I went to bed at last. "And so," I said, "thou hast no ear for sweet melody?" A silvery snore was my only answer. BETSY SLEPT. Artemus Ward. 7.6. ARTEMUS WARD IN WASHINGTON. [The following paper was contributed by Mr. Browne to "Vanity Fair," the New York "Punch," which terminated its career during the late war. Some of the allusions are, of course, to matters long past; but the old fun and genuine humour of the showman are as enjoyable now as when first written.] Washington, April 17, 1863. My wife stood before the lookin-glass, a fussin up her hair. "What you doin, Betsy?" I inquired. "Doin up my back hair," she replied. "Betsy," said I, with a stern air, "Betsy, you're too old to think about such frivolities as back hair." "Too old? TOO OLD?" she screamed, "too old, you bald-heded idiot! You ain't got hair enuff onto YOUR hed to make a decent wig for a single-brested grasshopper!" The Rebook was severe, but merited. Hens4th I shall let my wife's back hair alone. You heard me! My little dawter is growin quite rapid, and begins to scrootinize clothin, with young men inside of it, puthy clost. I obsarve, too, that she twists pieces of paper round her hair at nights, and won't let me put my arms round her any more for fair I'll muss her. "Your mother wasn't 'fraid I'd muss HER when she was your age, my child," sed I one day, with a sly twinkle into my dark bay eye. "No," replied my little dawter, "she probly liked it." You ain't going to fool female Young America much. You may gamble on THAT. But all this, which happened in Baldinsville a week ago, hain't nothin to do with Washington, from whither I now write you, hopin the iterms I hereby sends will be exceptable to the Gin-Cocktail of America--I mean the "Punch" thereof. [A mild wittikism.--A.W.] Washington, D.C., is the Capital of "our once happy country"--if I may be allowed to koin a frase! The D.C. stands for Desprit Cusses, a numerosity which abounds here, the most of whom persess a Romantic pashun for gratooitous drinks. And in this conjunction I will relate an incident. I notist for several days a large Hearse standin in front of the principal tavern on Pennsylvany Avenoo. "Can you tell me, my fair Castillian," sed I this mornin, to a young Spaniard from Tipperary, who was blackin boots in the washroom--"can you tell me what those Hearse is kept standin out there for?" "Well, you see our Bar bisness is great. You've no idee of the number of People who drink at our Bar durin a day. You see those Hearse is necessary." I SAW.