_Peter_ (terribly cornered)—Doctor, no more of this. I have come to have you examine and dress my wounds, and if you can’t do it, without a tedious homily on temperance, I will go to the other Apothecary, down the Bowery, who has long been your rival, and would like the job mighty well. (This was a clincher, and smashed the Doctor’s impregnable position.) _Doctor_—That is all true, Mr. Cooper, and I will discharge my painful duty. Here, Samuel, bring me some warm water. (Washes Peter’s bloody nose and dark eyes, and dresses them. He then feels of his bruised ribs, and finds them unbroken, though very sore and inflamed.) _Peter_—Doctor, what is your charge? _Doctor_—Twenty-five cents. _Peter_—Business is very dull now, and your rival Apothecary, down the Bowery, would not have charged more than twenty cents. Can’t you take twenty, Doctor? _Doctor_—Twenty will do, if you will promise to come again, when nigger Jim beats you. _Peter_ (very slightly blushes)—I will certainly come again, when I have any more business in the Apothecary line. (Gives the Doctor an old pistareen, and departs, with poultices and bandages over his eyes and nose.) SUNDAY EVENING. _Peter’s Groggery full of political strikers and vagabonds and criminals of every hue—A primary election to come off early in the morning._ _Peter_—Now, boys, I want you to put me through to-morrow. _Thieves_—We will—we will. _Peter_—If you will, I’ll give you all the most glorious drunk you have had since the last election. _Head Thief_—We will elect a majority of our friends to the Convention, and you may regard your nomination as sure. _Peter_—Give me your hand on that delightful news, and now, boys, what are you going to drink? As it is Sunday evening, and as some of the stiff old deacons will soon be coming by on their way to Church, I will close my shop doors, and then we will all sit down, and drink and smoke until daylight appears, so that you can be earlier than our adversaries at the polls, and put in a handful or two of ballots before the polls open. What say you? _Jack_ (one of the primary inspectors)—Go it, Peter,—you are the boy for me. I put in a large handful of ballots with your name on them half an hour since. _Peter_—That’s the talk, my lad. I will remember you for that, if I’m elected. (Closes the doors, and brings jug of rum.) Now, boys, fill yourselves to your throats with rum, and in the mean time, I’ll get some crackers and cheese. _Thieves_ (all drink like fish while Peter is after the crackers and cheese.) (To be continued for a long time.) T. B. JOHNSTON has a complimentary benefit at Wallack’s Theatre on Saturday evening, the 26th of June. I shall go early, and take a front seat, and enjoy his extraordinary comicalities, and I advise all to follow my example. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Advertisements—25 Cents a line.