“I will write a first rate notice,” says Snooks, “and mark it for the benefit of country members, and if that doesn’t _settle_ Graham and Godey, I’ll write you an article for nothing.” “Goodness!” says the new editor—“but—but do you think it is exactly fair to break down their business all at once, in that way? Remember their interesting families, Mr. Snooks.” “Families, sir! who talks about families when we commence a Thundergust! Get up a breeze! Pile on the agony, sir! You are too meek, sir!—too tame!—chicken-hearted, sir!—too tender!—too—too—will you oblige me with $20 till to-morrow? _Settle_ is the word!” An awkward one it is, too—this settling with Indians, when they turn on you. * * * * * The fishermen of Philadelphia recently turned out in opposition to the firemen. They kept themselves closely concealed in covered wagons. _Sell-fish_ fellows! * * * * * Du Solle turned out a poor number of his new paper, “The Extra,” lately. “Extra?” inquires a wag—“this is extra-_ordinary_.” * * * * * I CAN’T MAKE UP MY MIND: THE WORDS FROM HOOD’S MAGAZINE, ADAPTED TO A MELODY BY F. OTTO, AND ARRANGED FOR THE PIANO BY CHAS. GROBE. Presented by G. Willig, No. 171 Chestnut St. Published by G. Willig Jr. Baltimore. [Entered according to act of Congress, by G. Willig, Jr., in the year 1848, at the Clerk’s Office, of the District Court of Md.] [Illustration] 1st Verse. I can’t make up my mind, mamma, In such unseemly haste; Nor pick from all my dying swains A husband to my taste. There’s gay Charles Dash, a charming man, Most affable and kind Who loves me so de- [Illustration] vo-ted-ly, But I can’t make up my mind. SECOND VERSE. And, next, there’s frank, young Harry West, So fond, so true, so clever, Who though I scold him all the day, Adores me more than ever. There’s Roger Snipe, the pink of beaux, Or else your daughter’s blind, And yet when Snipe grows serious, I I can’t make up my mind. THIRD VERSE.