As I gazed mournfully upon the smoking relics of the ancient allies of our house, I resolved to record this strange adventure; but you know I never had much taste for writing, Jack, so I now confide the task to you. As he concluded, my uncle raised his tumbler to his lips, and I could perceive a tear sparkling in his eye—a genuine tribute of regard to the memory of the venerated “Wife Catchers.” CORRESPONDENCE EXTRAORDINARY. Wrote Paget to Pollen, With face bright as brass, “T’other day in the Town Hall You mention’d an ass: “Now, for family reasons, I’d like much to know, If on me you intended That name to bestow?” “My lord,” says Jack Pollen, “Believe me, (’tis true,) I’d be sorry to slander A donkey or you.” “Being grateful,” says Paget, “I’d ask you to lunch; But just, Sir John, tell me. Did you call me PUNCH?” “In wit, PUNCH is equalled,” Says Pollen, “by few; In naming him, therefore, I couldn’t mean you,” “Thanks! thanks! To bear malice,” Save Paget, “I’m loath; Two answers I’ve got, and I’m Charm’d with them both.” EPIGRAMS. 1.—THE CAUSE. Lisette has lost her wanton wiles— What secret care consumes her youth, And circumscribes her smiles?— A spec on a front tooth! 2.—PRIDE. Fitzsmall, who drinks with knights and lords, To steal a share of notoriety, Will tell you, in important words, He mixes in the best society. ENGLISH AND AMERICAN PRODUCE. We find, by the Times of Saturday, the British teasel crops in the parish of Melksham have fallen entirely to the ground, and from their appearance denote a complete failure. Another paragraph in the same paper speaks quite as discouragingly of the appearance of the American Teazle at the Haymarket.