* The feast of Purim, an ancient Jewish festival, held yearly on the 7th of March, is in commemoration of the fall of Hainan and his ten sons. This feast is generally spent in public rejoicing, such as masked balls, letting off fireworks, &c. At one time a Fair was held in the vicinity of Duke's Place; but which the authorities of the City of London have put down for several years past. Amongst the more respectable order, family parties are kept up to a very late hour. The tables are generally adorned with hung beef, to commemorate the hanging of Haman. On the evening of this feast, the Jews attend their synagogues, where the Reader chants the Book of Esther in the Hebrew language; and at one time, (the practice is now partially abolished,) whenever the Reader repeated the name of Haman, the younger branches of the congregation beat the seats, and otherwise created a noise, with small wooden hammers, which were designated Haman-clappers. --like the French butcher, * for joy! I played first comedy before the lamps and second fiddle behind'em,--walking gentlemen and running footmen,--bravos and bishops, ** --swept the boards with Tragedy's sweeping pall, and a birch-broom,-- * A Slaughter-man, in the interval of killing, strolled from a neighbouring abattoir to Père la Chaise. Shedding tears like rain, and clasping his blood-stained hands, he stood before the tomb of Abelard and Eloisa; while ever and anon he blubbered out, “Oh! l'amour, l'amour!” He then wiped his eyes with his professional apron, and returned to business! This is truly French. ** Garrick was in the habit of employing a whimsical fellow whose name was Stone, to procure him theatrical supernumeraries. The following correspondence passed between the “Sir, Thursday Noon. “Mr. Lacy turned me out of the lobby yesterday, and behaved very ill to me. I only ax'd for my two guineas for the last Bishop, and he swore I shouldn't have a farthing. I can't live upon air. I have a few Cupids you may have cheap, as they belong to a poor journeyman shoemaker, who I drink with now and then. “Your humble sarvant, “Wm. Stone.” “Stone, Friday Morn. “You are the best fellow in the world. Bring the Cupids to the theatre to-morrow. If they are under six, and well made, you shall have a guinea a piece for them. If you can get me two good murderers, I will pay you handsomely, particularly the spouting fellow who keeps the apple-stand on Tower-hill; the cut in his face is quite the thing. Pick me up an Alderman or two, for Richard, if you can; and I have no objection to treat with you for a comely Mayor. The barber will not do for Brutus, although I think he will succeed in Mat. “D. G.”