ABOUT five o'clock on the evening of the 23d, the Janson passed Castle Pinckney, ran up to the wharf with the flood-tide, let go her anchor, and commenced warping into the dock. Her condition attracted sundry persons to the end of the wharf, who viewed her with a sort of commiseration that might have been taken for sincere feeling. The boarding officer had received her papers, and reported her character and condition, which had aroused a feeling of speculative curiosity, that was already beginning to spread among ship-carpenters and outfitters. Conspicuous among those gathered on the wharf was a diminutive little dandy, with an olive-colored frock-coat, black pants, embroidered vest, and an enormous shirt-collar that endangered his ears. This was secured around the neck with a fancy neckcloth, very tastefully set off with a diamond pin, He was very slender, with a narrow, feminine face, round popeyes--requiring the application of a pocket-glass every few minutes--and very fair complexion, with little positive expression of character in his features. His nose was pointed; his chin, projected and covered with innumerable little pimples, gave an irregular and mastiff-shaped mouth a peculiar expression. He wore a very highly-polished and high-heeled pair of boots, and a broad-brimmed, silk-smooth hat. He seemed very anxious to display the beauty of two diamond rings that glittered upon his delicate little fingers, made more conspicuous by the wristbands of his shirt. Standing in a very conspicuous place upon the capsill of the wharf, he would rub his hands, then running from one part of the wharf to another, ordering sundry niggers about making fast the lines, kicking one, and slapping another, as he stooped, with his little hand. All paid respect to him. The Captain viewed him with a smile of curiosity, as much as to say, “What important specimen of a miss in breeches is that?” But when the little fellow spoke, the secret was told. He gathered the inflections of his voice, as if he were rolling them over the little end of a thunderbolt in his mouth. As the vessel touched the wharf, he sprang to the corner and cried out at the top of his voice, “Yer' welcome to Charleston, Captain Thompson! Where did you get that knocking?--where are ye bound for?--how many days are you out?--how long has she leaked in that way?” and a strain of such questions, which it would be impossible to trace, such was the rapidity with which he put them. The Captain answered him in accordance with the circumstances; and supposing him clothed with authority, inquired where he should find some hands to work his pumps, in order to relieve his men. “By-Je-w-hu! Captain, you must a' had a piping time, old feller. Oh! yes, you want help to work your pumps. Get niggers, Captain, there's lots on 'em about here. They're as thick as grasshoppers in a cotton-patch.”