The corps on the seelin, under Genral Bludsucker, was ordered to take the inishiativ. Formin in a compact falanx, the band playin the wile, they simmultaneoushly took the perylus leep, landing rite in the middle of my defense. Poor fellows! they met the fate of many others. Miscalculate the distance they had fallen upon the Funny collum of the _Presbyteeryan Banner_, and its well known soporiffic effects completely overcom them. Seein the discomfertufe of the Bludsuckers command Genral Robeson advanced, on the dubbel quick, over my N.Y. _Sun_ barrycade. He had almost reeched the leg of my chare, wen urgin his men forward he crossed a line, and rushed rite into deth, yes a suddin and horrybel deth! Poor fellus! they didnt notis in there hurried adyanse, that they were attemptin to cross a sarcastick and vengeful dubble ledded editorial, on the United States navy, by Charles A. Danamite. The survivors will no dout erect a monument over the remains of there brave and darin comrads, beerin the inskripshun “Dide of broken harts.” Genral Robert Ingersol, seein the destruckshun of Robesons forces, determined to advanse slowly, he had jest scaled the back of my barrycade, and was preparin for a rush, wen his eyes cot site of the title of the book. He immejiately sounded the retreet. Biblical Reasons Why was too much for him, and he did not feel like crossin the kasm, and exposin his men to more numerus and hotter perrils. A counsil of war was then held, and it was decided to get the forces all together, and make one determined effort, to capture my fortress from the see. A half burnt mach was obtained, and a company of soldjers embarked upon it. The ma-sheenary of the transport must of giv out, cos the bote became unmanageable, and its livin freight, seein there hopeless condish-un, joined in singin', “We're goin down to Glory.” By this time, the sun streemin thru the cracks of the curtin, warned the survivors of the approch of day, and a genral recall was sounded, and the entire force retreeted to there impenetrabel fortresses in the cracks of the bedsted, leavin me completely master of the situashun. Now, Mr. Diry, can you wunder at my feelin sum wot tired after such a xperiense, and a tedjus ride down from Troy? Prap's you may consider me a liar. If you do, you are mistakin, cos every wurd I have rittin in you to nite is the solium truth, without “any prevaricashun, eggsagerashun, or magnifycashun, and besides that, every-bodie wot knoes me, sinse I packed away my petty cotes, will tell you, I'm a littel Georgie Washinton. CHAPTER XVI. HE REPORTS A DRY GOODS OPENIN.--A XPENSIV KOSTUM WOT FINDS ITS WAY TO THE STABLISHMENT OF A JURNULISTICK MILLYUN-HAIR.-- FEMMERNINE FEMMERNINITY'S, WITH MICE AS APPENDAGES.--THE NEET THING IN A HAT.