CONTENTS PAGE LIFE OF STEPHEN H. BRANCH. 2 STEPHEN H. BRANCH’S ALLIGATOR. 6 FRA DIAVOLO AND HIS ITALIAN BRIGANDS. 7 ICE CREAM. 7 OUR COUNTRY’S RUIN. 9 DEV’L-IN A BAKERY. 10 FOR PALE STUDENTS, AND ROMANTIC VIRGINS. 11 [Illustration: STEPHEN H. BRANCH’S ALLIGATOR. Volume I.—No. 2.] SATURDAY, MAY 1, 1858. [Price 2 Cents.] STEPHEN H. BRANCH’S ALLIGATOR. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857, by STEPHEN H. BRANCH, In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York. Life of Stephen H. Branch. John Horsewell was a poor boy, and had duck legs. My brother William was taller and older than John, and had a new suit of clothes, with which I clad John from head to foot. Bill’s hat and boots were too large for John, and his coat on John nearly grazed the ground. I put on my Sunday suit, and off we went to Boston, forty miles distant. We quarrelled on the road, in a deep wood, and I demanded John to take off Bill’s clothes, at which he called me hard names, and I left him, and directed my steps towards Providence, leaving him reclining on the embankment of the forest road. I wandered half a mile at a quick and revengeful pace; but as twilight was approaching, and I heard the bark of a dog, with lungs of thunder, I became alarmed, and hurried back to John, and craved his pardon, and we lingered until the stage arrived, when we took passage for Boston, reaching the Marlboro’ Hotel at midnight. Mr. Barker was the host, and, on our inquiry for lamps to retire, he exclaimed: “Who are you, and whence came you?” John was disconcerted, but I was cool, and replied: “Our names are Branch and Horsewell, and we are from Providence.” “Did you visit Boston with the permission of your father and mother?” “No, sir.” “You ran away, then?” “No, sir; we walked away.” “What can you do in Boston in your clouts?” “Learn a trade, sir.” “Have you any money?” “Forty cents, sir.” “Bob: Take these brats to your room, and make a bunk on the floor, and lock the door, and watch their movements closely until morning, when I will put them in the poor house or county jail.” And off we tramped to bed, up four flights of stairs, and were locked in until Bob came to bed, when we snored terribly, pretending to be in a doze so profound, that a cannon could not arouse us. John cried all night, and at daylight we crawled softly from our hard nests, while Bob was asleep, and softly turned the key, and descended the stairs in our stockings, and fled for our lives. We went to the market, and got a cheap breakfast, and then sought the theatre, where we saw Mac Cready announced as