A newspaper item conveys the interesting intelligence that THIERS, the renowned statesman and historian, consumes snuff to the amount of a quarter of a pound daily. That M. THIERS is thoroughly "up to snuff" every body knows; but that he has so much idle time on his hands as to be able to use a quarter of a pound of it daily, will be news to most people. Let any one of our readers try it. Let him be ever so "good at a pinch," he will find that to feed his proboscis from a quarter of a pound of snuff until he has reached the last pinch, would take up, at a moderate computation, no less than eight hours at a stretch, allowing reasonable intervals for sneezing and blowing his nose. Evidently the story is an idle one--more idle than M. THIERS ever could have been. Perhaps it was "pinching" poverty in the way of items that drove the itemizer to invent it. At any rate, he has made a "mull" of it. * * * * * Apropos of Susan B. Anthony. "Was ever woman in this humor One?" * * * * * A Gale Brewing. Boston is agitating a reproduction of the Coliseum, and GILMORE hints at an orchestra of three thousand, with eighteen hundred _wind_ instruments. A gale far more disastrous than that memorable southeaster of last autumn may therefore be expected. * * * * * [Illustration: WOMAN IN WALL STREET _Lady Broker, (to applicant for stock.)_ "O DEAR, DEAR! HOW CAN I ATTEND TO BUSINESS WHEN I'VE THE BABY TO MIND?"] * * * * * CHAT ABOUT RAILROADS. PARTIES: _A Simpleton from the Wilderness, and a Misanthropic Traveller. [The Simpleton asks for information.]_ "They say that railroads now an't safe. Say, mister, how is that?" It comes of "accidents," my friend-- Where cheap rails spread out flat, Cheap axles break, cheap boilers burst, Cheap trestle-work gives way: No wonder, when you think of that, They kill a man a day! Well, folks must travel; must go fast; Must take the cars--and risk; They can't afford a Special Train, Like VANDERBILT or FISK; They know a curve that's pretty sharp, A bank that's pretty steep, Rocks that may roll upon the track, "Sleepers" that never sleep; Here was a "smash-up" not long since, That killed about a score; Two trains "collided" yesterday, And maimed a dozen more. But, go they must--by railroad, too, And all its risks defy: For no American believes That _he_ will ever die! _[The Simpleton, with open mouth, further questions the Traveller.]_ "In God's name, citizen, pray tell How this can go on, so!" You ask a simple thing, my friend, As I will quickly show. _Directors know their countrymen,_ And _that_ is why we bleed: So long as nothing's done to them, The slaughter will proceed.