And ah! the merry summer-tide!' as a Minnisinger and many another singer have sung. As we write, summer is losing its last traces in the peach-time of September. Bartlett pears are dead ripe--like the engagements formed at Newport and Saratoga--and china-asters and tuberoses tell of coming frosts. Well, 'tis over--the second season of the year is with the snows of year before last. 'Mais ou sont les neiges d'antan!' and we may continue the service by singing a LAMENT FOR SUMMER BY J. W. LEEDS. Like an argosy deep laden With the wealth of Indian sands, Sailing down a summer ocean To far-off Northern lands,-- Like a golden-visioned story-- Like the hectic's bright decay, Dying in the painted glory Of the autumn sere and hoary, Fade the summer days away. * * * * * Persons who insist that 'after all, the Rebels are slandered as to waging warfare in a barbarous manner,' will do well to cast their eyes over the following from the Richmond _Dispatch_ of September 24: "The Yankees are about to send their army captured at Harper's Ferry against the Indians. Has the Government no means of retaliating for such a breach of faith?' 'A breach of faith!' So, then, we are to understand that the latest uprising of the Indians, as well as that led by that brutal Falstaff, ALBERT PIKE, the Southwest, are all in the service of the Confederacy? For where is there a breach of faith unless the Indians in question are the allies of our Southern foes? This is, we presume, a part of 'the defensive policy of exhausting in detail the superior numbers of the invading North,' which has been proposed as forming a portion of the Confederate policy--other items of which consist of killing prisoners by neglect, and having torpedoes and mines in abandoned villages. We commend this admission of alliance with savages to the special consideration of the London _Times_. * * * * * We observe that a new planet has been discovered at Bilk, in Germany. Well, we have no doubt of the fact, but we don't like the name of the place where they found it. A Bilk planet is extremely suggestive of a Moon hoax. And, talking of hoaxes, has anybody with a sharp stick been as yet deputed by the government to look after the man who gets up proposals of peace for the Philadelphia _Inquirer_? Ancient friend of ours, such yarns (unintentionally) do harm. They are reprinted in Dixie, and the Dixians say that we are frightened, while Northern doughfaces grasp at them, and get to thinking. Excellent _Inquirer_! this is not a good time to set people to thinking over peace proposals and compromises. Does our friend know, by the way, what sort of fowl are hatched from mares' nests'? They are _canards_. Don't let there be too many of them hatched in serious times like these. * * * * *