In 1780, Washington defrayed the educational expenses of a youth, who was an immediate descendent of Pocahontas, and procured his passage to Scotland, where he became a student in its noble highlands. In his class were two youths, whom he loved with enthusiastic fondness. One was from Damascus, and the other from the Oriental Empire, who was born beneath the native village skies of Confucius, to whom he traced his blood. On the eve of graduation, and just prior to their departure for the remotest portions of the globe, they fondly rambled in the woods and groves, where they oft had wandered, and ascended majestic mountains, on whose celestial peaks, (with the pale moon in her zenith roaming,) they sung these pensive lines, in their favorite Alpine bowers: When shall we three meet again? When shall we three meet again? Oft shall glowing hope expire; Oft shall wearied love retire; Oft shall death and sorrow reign, Ere we three do meet again. Though in distant lands we sigh, Parched beneath a hostile sky; Though the deep between us rolls, Friendship shall unite our souls; Long may this loved bower remain; Here may we three meet again. When the dreams of life have fled; When its wasted lamp is dead; When in cold oblivion’s shade, Beauty, wealth and power are laid; Where immortal spirits reign, There may we three meet again. They soon departed for their respective countries, and never met again! Alas! “The human heart, like the muffled drum, Is ever beating funeral marches to the grave!” WANTED—Temperate, energetic, and impulsive young men to canvass the city for the Alligator, who can be carriers on those routes where they obtain subscribers. There are thousands of masters and misses, and fathers and mothers, and grandfathers and grandmothers who will take the Alligator. So, young men, off with your coats, and fly through the city like a tornado, for subscribers to the Alligator. And first visit the Astor, Saint Nicholas, Metropolitan, Lafarge, Everett, and other splendid Restaurants and Oyster Saloons, not one of whose proprietors will refuse the Alligator. But if they should, just let us know, and we may, in our wrath, blight their custom with our fatal jaw. And visit the Reverend Doctors Potts and Taylor, and see Brown, the fancy Sexton, and ask the loan of his magic whistle, which will guide you to victory like a wand of enchantment. If Potts and Taylor salute you like Diogenes, and Brown declines his festive and mausoleum whistle, we may haunt them with a peep through their private windows on the first dark and boisterous midnight. So, boys, look aloft, and arouse yourselves, and select your own routes without our consultation, until you desire our Alligators to serve your ecstatic patrons. The following was written, in 1854, by Stephen H. Branch, for Ald. Orison Blunt, then Alderman of the Third Ward, but is now Supervisor from the Fifteenth Ward: