_Cor_. Good. Do you believe the Pope's infallible, Admiral? _Ad_. The Pope's what? _Cor_. Do you think that there is no such word as fail with PIO Nono? _Ad_. No, no! _Cor_. The Empress EUGENIE, Admiral, and Queen VICTORIA—which do you think is the prettiest of these women? _Ad_. Never saw 'em swimmin'. Can't say. _Cor_. What is your opinion about McFARLAND? Was he justifiable, think you? _Ad_. No! Poor shot. _Cor_. Have you seen _Frou Frou_, Admiral? _Ad_. Yes. In New-York. Cor. How did you like it, sir? _Ad_. Not much. Do for folks whose taste for that sort of thing is DAILY bred. _Cor_. What do you think of oar new City Charter? _Ad_. Is it a ship? _Cor_. Yes, sir. It is a sort of hardship for New-York. _Ad_. Well, the city must be used to that. Will take in its ale pretty much as usual, I reckon. _Cor_. What, sir, do you think of Chicago? _Ad_. Ah! go way. _Cor_. (_oblivious of hint_.) Where do you buy your pantaloon stuff, Mr. Secretary? _Ad_. (_sharply_.) Where the woodbine twineth. _Cor_. Admiral, have you any children? _Ad_. (_loudly_.) ROBESON! _Cor_. My dear sir, you surprise me! Is he your son? _Ad_. (_to assistant_.) ROBESON! Did you see MIKE HAINES? _Cor_. One moment. Admiral! Let me ask of you, in which, if any, of our New-York companies is your life insured; and do you wear the patent perforated buckskin?— Here the interview terminated. Your correspondent suddenly discovered that he would have barely time to catch the N. Y. Express, and he took leave with a renewed respect for the spirit of our Navy and its head. SNIQUE. [Illustration: COME, GENTLE SPRING.] SPRING has come. Now is the time to ask your friends for seed and roots, and to tell somebody they ought to see about the garden. Turn your chickens into your neighbors' grounds, and the cow too, if you think she would like to go there. Now also is the time for house-cleaning, as well as for settling up one's affairs generally; so, after you have called in all the money due you, and paid out as little as possible, perhaps you had better go out West for a week or so. The sort of Liquor most apt to Tell upon a Man. PEACH Brandy. Opinions of the Press. The _Sun_ thinks that the World's end would be a god-send. It also thinks that the Tribune is a try weakly and unique daily, besides being a four centenary. It thinks that the fact of the _Times_ being out of Joint is the reason it is getting the cold Shoulder from its subscribers. It thinks that the _Herald_ is not the leading paper, though it may have Ben-it. It thinks that the _Sun_ is awful shiny. The Politician's Half-and-Half. DEMAGOGUE and Demijohn. CONDENSED CONGRESS. SENATE.