Peter Cooper, the learned, astute, and never to be forgotten Peter, finds it to be invaluable to his health, to snuff the sea breeze in the classic freshness of Long Branch. Archbishop John, fatigued with the cares of Cathedral dedication, found it likewise to his advantage to smell the air in the same locality, and for fear of want of amusement he brought with him the Vicar General of his diocese, and a brother of some order—probably of the Redemptorists, or of some other evangelical pawnbrokers. And a very strange peculiarity in the atmosphere brought to the self-same spot, our most illustrious municipal executive Daniel F. Tiemann. And being mutual acquaintances, on Sunday last, they enjoyed a most comfortable chat, regulating the moral, sanitary and religious condition of our citizens, when Peter suddenly disappeared, and his body was only recovered a few hours before nightfall, when he was discovered thoroughly impregnated with a speech, which he will probably transmit to posterity upon the walls of the Institute, but which in reality is the personal property of Archbishop Hughes. And on the morrow Peter, like his saintly namesake, being a fisher of fish as well as of men, went forth to angle with the Vicar General, and the tonsured monk, but what caught he beside religious truths, which ever hang like diamonds upon the voices of the Archbishop’s town friends, we regret to say we could not learn. There must be something over refreshing in the air of Long Branch, some resuscitating principle which can allure to that spot such a bevy of worthies, who, to while away their leisure, have probably settled in every manner, not only the Apostolic succession, but Mayor Tiemann’s re-election. * * * * * We would like some of our cotemporaries to tell us what the people have gained in the election of Daniel F. Tiemann and the defeat of Fernando Wood. The latter is a statesman, a fine lawyer, quick perception, brilliant talents, and with all the accusations against him, proved himself an able, efficient magistrate. But Tiemann, what shall the historian say of him? Echo answers write—on his tomb stone—“Here lies the paint manufacturer, Daniel F. Tiemann, who was unfortunately elected Mayor of New York, through a mistake of his friends. He’s gone—speak gently of his errors—the city debt mourns—the people they say—nothing.” * * * * * Owing to the large and increasing demand for the ALLIGATOR, we are induced, by Mr. Branch’s friends, to enlarge, consequently next week will appear a full grown monster—covering eight pages. Look out for next number. It will be rich and racy—full of spice. * * * * *