"I rushed to the room where I am now sealed. There is but one hope left me. "In the Territory of Nebraska, far to the west thereof, lies a tract of land which the early French trappers, with shrewd fitness called the' Mauvaises Terres.' It is a region of rocks, petrifactions, and other pre-Adamite peculiarities. In a paper written by Dr. Leid of Philadelphia, and published by the Smithsonian Institute, we are assured that there once lived in these bad lands, turtles six feet square, and alligators, compared with which the present squatter sovereigns of the territory are lovely and refined. The fossil remains of these ancient inhabitants still encumber the earth of that region, and make it unpleasant to view with an agricultural eye; but here and there the general desolation is relieved by a fertile valley, with a running brook and green slopes. White men, whisky, and Funny Fellows have not yet penetrated there. I will go to this sanctuary. A snug cabin will contain my necessary household--to wit--twelve shirts and a Bible. I will plant my corn, and tobacco, and vines on the fertile slope that looks to the south; my cattle and sheep shall browse the rest of the valley, while a few agile goats shall stand in picturesque positions upon the rocky monsters described by Dr. Leidy. My guests shall be the brave and wise red men who never try to make bad jokes. I do not think they ever try to be Funny; but to make assurance doubly sure, I shall not learn their language, so that any melancholy attempts they may possibly make, will fall upon unappreciative ears. By day I will cultivate my crops and tend my flocks and herds; and in the long evenings smoke the calumet with the worthy aborigines. If I should find there some dusky maiden, like Palmer's Indian girl, who has no idea of puns, polkas, crinoline, or eligible matches, I will woo her in savage hyperbole, and she shall light my pipe with her slender fingers, and beat for me the tom-tom when I am sad. I will live in a calm and conscientious way; the Funny Fellow shall become like the dim recollection of some horrible dream, and"-- Mr. Green seems not to have finished his interesting reflections, and I shall not attempt to complete them. As well might I try to finish the Cathedral at Cologne. But I heartily sympathize with the feelings he has expressed, and trust that his new home in the West will never be invaded by conversational garroters. Sincerely your friend, TOMPKINS. --_The Pasha Papers_. CHARLES FARRAR BROWNE. ("ARTEMUS WARD.") (BORN, 1834--DIED, 1867.) * * * * * THE TOWER OF LONDON. MR. PUNCH,--_My Dear Sir_:--I skurcely need inform you that your excellent Tower is very pop'lar with pe'ple from the agricultooral districks, and it was chiefly them class which I found waitin at the gates the other mornin.