_Thursday_.--Settlers want to know when I am going to begin. They are always in such a darned hurry. They ought to know I am the hero of a hundred fights (see my Autobiography--a few copies of which may still be had at the almost nominal price of half-a-dollar) and should rely on me accordingly. Am to visit the Indian Camp to-morrow. _Friday_.--Terms agreed. SMALL BITE and fifty braves engage themselves for six months certain, sharing terms, travelling exes, and one clear benefit. I find front of the curtain and advertising, they provide entertainment, which is to include Ghost-Dance (with banners and red fire) religious rites, war-dance, and scalping expedition with incidentals (SMALL BITE says he knows "some useful knockabout niggers") and procession in and out of towns. Think I can boom it. _Saturday_.--My connection with war ended. Calculate I start to-morrow with the Show across the herring-pond, to wake up the Crowned Heads of Europe! * * * * * TO THE BIG BACILLICIDE. O DOCTOR KOCH, if you can slay Those horrid germs that kill us, You'll be _the_ hero of the day, Great foe of the Bacillus! What champion may we match with you In all the world of fable? St. George, who the Great Dragon slew, The Knights of ARTHUR's Table, E'en gallant giant-slaying JACK, The British nursery's darling; Or JENNER, against whom the pack Of faddists now are snarling, Must second fiddle play to him Who stayed the plague of phthisis, And plumbed a mystery more dim And deep than that of Isis. For what are Dragons, Laidly Worms, And such-like mythic scourges, Compared with microscopic germs 'Gainst which the war he urges? Hygeia, goddess, saint, or nymph, We trust there's no big blunder, And hope your votary's magic lymph May prove no nine days' wonder. We dare not trust each pseudo-seer Who'd powder, purge, or pill us; But pyramids to him we'll rear Who baffles the Bacillus. * * * * * STRANGE TRANSFORMATION.--From the _Times_ Correspondent, U.S., we learned, last week, that somebody who had been "a Bull," was now "a Bear." What next will he be?--A donkey? Or did he begin with this, and will he end by being a goose? * * * * * PROSPECT FOR CHRISTMAS.--"TUCK," i.e., RAPHAEL of that ilk. The "Correct (Christmas) Card." * * * * * "A PAIR OF SPECTACLES." [Illustration]