"You air in favor of the Proclamashun!" red the offisser. "Yis, and of ventilation." The young man was not drafted, but he is still single--single-ar to say. The abov is a correct report of the story as I heern it--I only heern the naims, fancy has supplide the rest. P.S.--I larfed all the wa home; observin witch severil peple gave me the hole walk, evidently taking me for a hilarious loonatic. A. Ward will shortly lecshoor on Asstronmy, I heer, partickly upon the Konstlashun ov the Suthern Cross, which he portends he found out to be a MULATTO. 7.21. MR. WARD ATTENDS A GRAFFICK (SOIREE.) [Shortly after the publication in this country of "Artemus Ward His Book," I received from a friend the following article, purporting to have been written by Mr. W. during a stay in Bristol. The sketch appeared in the "Bristol Record,"* and upon writing to the editor for further information concerning it, I received from that gentleman such a cautious reply as confirmed a previous suspicion that "the showman" had not visited the great western city, and that the article was either a concoction in Mr. Ward's style, or one of the papers of Josh Billings, an imitator of Mr. W., slightly altered to suit the locality of its republication. Whether these conjectures are correct or not, the article is here given for the English reader's criticism, and, although not equal in humour to A. Ward's more successful pieces, certain pleasantries of expression and droll extravagances observable in it will, at least, repay perusal.] Prefixed to the article in the Record was the following:-" A letter has just been shown to us, of which we subjoin a portion, from which it will appear that Mr. -- (we suppress the name for obvious reasons) is not the only illustrious American who is sojourning at present at Clifton. Artemus Ward has retired for the present from his professional duties, in consequence of the rough treatment which he lately received in the Southern States. His admirers have sent him to England to recruit, and he was last week at Clifton, and dined with Mr. --. We are violating no literary confidence in mentioning the above, as Mr. Ward is combining business with pleasure, and his letters will appear in the New York Tribune, to which journal he has temporarily attached himself as special European correspondent.--Ed. B. R. WALL, we had a just sittled down to our wine, when sez the Squire soddenlick, "Mr. W., would you like to go to a Graffick?" "What's a Graffick?" sed I. "A Pictur-shew," sed he, "with a swoiree between, and all the fashionables of this interestin location there." "Don't care if I duz," sed I, "perwided u go the Ticket." "Sertingly," sed he. "Mr. Ward, you are my guest for the evening."