Yure's of the 6th reseved, and contense, including for my pussenel expenses, dooly noted, Washinton Hall has been moped out for you and is clene as a pin, six new tin cannel sticks have been put up in the antyrum by the propryetor, this is lyberul, all the hanbils has been distributid, and the posters stuck up, sum of em wrong side down, owin to the bilposter bein a little week-minded, which will be a kind of curosity, and an advantije to you I think. I have sent tickets to the village pastures and their famylis, as yu requested and they red the notises last Sunday and advised everybuddy to go. I have gut public opinion all rite for yu here, now cum on with yer panyrammer of Afriky. Yure's trooly, B. PERSIMMON, p.m. This was cheering; and Tiffles only hoped that he would be able to secure so faithful an ally in every postmaster, for he had decided to do this preliminary work through that variety of public functionary, until the success of the panorama would justify hiring a special courier to go in advance and smooth the way for him, All these preparations having been satisfactorily made; and the panorama, with the curtains, the lighting apparatus, and the other properties, having been forwarded in three enormous boxes to the scene of the impending conflict with public opinion, Tiffles made ready to follow. And, on the eventful morning of the----- of April, 185-, he might have been seen at the Cortlandt-street ferry, accompanied by Patching, who had graciously consented to see how the "thing worked" on its first public trial. Patching pulled his enormous hat still farther over his eyes, so that he might not be recognized. This gave him an extremely questionable aspect; and the ticket taker at the ferry peered under the huge brim suspiciously as Patching came in. He also attracted the attention of a detective in citizen's clothes, and was a general object of interest to all the people congregated in the ferry house and waiting for the boat. "This is fame," muttered Patching, glancing at his scrutinizers from the shadow of the far-reaching hat. "This is what people starve and die for. It is a bore." He struck an attitude, as if unconsciously, folding his arms, and appearing to be in a profound revery. Then, after another cautious glance about, he turned to Tiffles, by his side, and said: "It is useless. I am recognized. But remember your solemn promise. I had no hand in the painting of it." "Not a little finger, my dear fellow," cheerfully replied Tiffles, who had given the artist similar assurances of secrecy five times that morning. At that moment a hand touched Tiffles familiarly on the shoulder. He turned suddenly, for he was always expecting rear attacks from creditors. He saw Marcus Wilkeson.