I do declare that, when I saw this sad, sad end to all that grand amount of reel true Love, the tears run down my cheeks like rain, and I was a getting up to go away, when presently in came the lovly angel again, whose name I was told was Love, and told him that such love as his could conker Death itself; and she brort the pore wife to life again, and all hended, as all things shood end, jovial, and cumferal, and happy. What a wunderful thing is Music! It didn't seem at all strange to me that not one single word was spoke all the heavening, but ewery word sung, and in a forren tung, too, that I didn't hunderstand, the bewtiful story kep my atention fixt the hole time, and I warked home in the poring rain, werry thankful, and jest a leetle prowd, that in one thing, at least, I was not xacly like BROWN, who slept carm and content thro the hole of the larst hact. ROBERT. * * * * * THE FATE OF SALVATION ARMY GENERALS. "Each General is, by a deed of appointment, executed and placed in safe custody with certain formalities, &c."--_Gen. Booth's Letter to the Times, Nov._ 27. This is dreadful! Why should the Generals be executed? What have they done to deserve this cruel fate? And what is the use of placing them in safe custody _after_ they have been executed? And what are the "certain formalities"? We pause for a reply to all these questions. * * * * * SEASONABLE.--CHRISTMAS IS COMING.--In the _Morning Post_, one day last week, appeared an announcement to the effect that Madame NOËL had left one residence in the West End for another in the same quarter. Odd this, just now. But go where she will, _Le bon père_ NOËL will be in London and the country on the 25th instant; so the best way is to prepare to receive Father Christmas. * * * * * SO-HO, THERE!--Some persons think that the proper place for "The Pelican" ought still to be--the wilderness. * * * * * NOVELTY.--Quartette for three players--"Whist! the Dumby Man!" * * * * * EDUCATIONAL WORK (BY C.S. P-RN-LL).--_The Crammer's Guide to Politics_. * * * * * [Illustration: IRISH ACTORS IN AMERICA.] * * * * * A DRESS DRAMA. (BY A PERPLEXED PLAYWRIGHT.) I've got myself into a horrible mess, Of that there can be no manner of doubt, And my forehead is aching, because I've been making A desperate effort to get myself out, And I'm given away, so it seemeth to me, Like a threepenny vase with a pound of tea. I promised an actress to write her a play, With herself, of course, in the leading part, With abundance of bathos paraded as pathos, And a gallery death of a broken heart-- It's a capital plan, I find, to try To arrange a part where the audience cry.