This sort of thing will go on. A revolution in newspaper presses will be the consequence, and quiet, sedate people, who read over the paper, and complain of the type—of the quality of the paper—of the long editorials—of the short editorials—of the light reading—of the heavy reading—of the political matter—of the want of political news and facts—of the poetry—of the advertisements—of the mails—of the carrier—of the publisher, the editor, and the “devil”—will be shocked at having a _bill_ to pay. Turkey must be paid for, as well as slaughtered. There is no community of goods in Turkey. Every landholder expects the pay for corn that feeds and fattens turkey—and subscribers must expect to—“PAY UP.” Graham will get the blame—but the revolution _will_ go on! People who grumble—and, some of them—swear! about their papers, must _pay for the luxury_. No man has a right to _be stupid_—nor can expect editors to eat turkeys and publish newspapers on air. “Mr. ——, do _you_ know that your subscription is _overdue_ to The ——?” “No?” “We thought so. Well, take Graham’s advice, and take $2, ‘pay up,’ and take a receipt at once. You have no idea how it will clear your conscience, and your eye-sight, too, as to the _merits_ of the paper.” * * * * * Snow-Balling in the South.—Our Southern friends seem to have been taken by surprise by Jack Frost, and to have had some difficulty in acknowledging his acquaintance. At New Orleans we see, that Sambo was out early in the morning, and came rushing back to his master exclaiming—“_Oh, Monsieur! regardez donc! la cour est pleine de sucre blanc!_” “Oh, sir, look: the yard is full of _white sugar_!” “The oldest inhabitants,” says the Delta, “stared with amazement. It snowed all night, and in the morning the earth was entirely invisible; a white carpet, to the depth of eight inches, covered its entire surface. Our population were all agog, and snow-balls flew as thick and as fast as bullets at Buena Vista. The hats of peaceable citizens were knocked into corners; eyes and mouths were filled with conglomerated masses of snow, and ears were stopped.” In Florida, according to the News, “There was no record nor tradition of such an event in the history of East Florida. Some of the oldest inhabitants recollect, on one or two occasions, having seen a slight sprinkle of snow, but not enough to whiten the ground, and it passed off like a dream. But on this occasion we had an opportunity of enjoying the delightful amusement of “snow-balling;” and ladies, as fair as the snow itself, joined heartily in an amusement, the opportunity for which presents itself only once in a century.” Mrs. Neal, in her very sprightly and delightful letters from Charleston, S. C., gives an animated picture of the scene in Palmettodom: “Even in Philadelphia, where snow is by no means an every day affair, you cannot credit the excitement it gave rise to. The children, many of whom had