"Last evening I started out on a cruise, with the view of seeing the elephant on the streets by gas-light. I saw the identical elephant to be seen every evening, and with which you are all familiar, and I began to think about eleven o'clock that I should be compelled to retire to rest without having seen anything worthy of note. To be sure, I had seen a fight between a nigger and Irishman, which, after the first round, was finished by each party running away as fast as his legs could carry him, thereby tacitly acknowledging that he was beaten; but what was this? Every one of you have been in fights, and of course it would be unnatural to suppose that a description of a scrimmage of brief duration between an Irishman and a nigger would be particularly interesting. I was about to turn my footsteps homeward, when the movements of an individual attracted my attention. The person in question was a gentleman of about forty-five years of age. His height was fully six feet, his form was very spare, his face thin, his nose sharp and prominent, his eyes and hair grey, and his face closely shaven, wrinkled, and sallow. He was dressed in a plain black dress-coat and pants, of a style about three years old. His vest was of black satin, his shirt-bosom was scrupulously white; a black silk choker was tightly enveloped about his neck, above which peered a diminutive collar, which, when it was put on, was without doubt a standing-collar, but the starch had not been made of such a consistency as to render it consistent for the collar to stand up against the unstiffening effects of a hot day's sweating. As I saw him, he was coming down the street at a rapid rate, describing all sorts of geometrical figures on the sidewalk, and making efforts to sing the words of "Yankee Doodle" to the tune of "Old Hundred." Whenever he ran against an awning-post, he would stop, and expostulate with the post for its want of civility, and would insist that the post had never been born and bred in the St. Lawrence country, or it would have shown more politeness to strangers. He was entirely unable to account for the sudden revolutions of the earth, which made day and night follow each other in such quick succession. When he ran against a lamp-post, he would look up to the light and insist that it was dinner-time, and would wonder why the old woman didn't blow the horn. At that moment a policeman came along, and was going to take him into custody. On observing the policeman's uniform, he inquired of him whether he was a 'Merican or British soger, and whether the Russians had whipped Nicholas, and whether Cuba had begun to bombard General Pierce at Sebastopol. I knew the officer very well, and he suggested that as the man seemed to be quite respectable in his appearance, it might be well to take him to a hotel for the night. I volunteered to do this, and accordingly took him under my care. On going down, he asked me if I was