An American naval officer, who had spent considerable time in China, narrates an amusing experience of the ignorance of the Chinese maidens of the custom of kissing. Wishing to complete a conquest he had made of a young _mei jin_ (beautiful lady), he invited her—using the English words—to give him a kiss. Finding her comprehension of his request somewhat obscure, he suited the action to the word and took a delicious kiss. The girl ran away into another room, thoroughly alarmed, exclaiming, “Terrible man-eater, I shall be devoured.” But in a moment, finding herself uninjured by the salute, she returned to his side, saying, “I would learn more of your strange rite. Ke-e-es me.” He knew it wasn’t “right,” but he kept on instructing her in the rite of “ke-e-es me,” until she knew how to do it like a native Yankee girl; and after all that, she suggested a second course, by remarking, “Ke-e-es me some more, _seen jine_ Mee-lee-kee!” (_Anglicé_—American), and the lesson went on until her mamma’s voice rudely awakened them from their delicious dream. Notwithstanding the alleged infrequency of the custom of kissing in the Chinese dominions, we learn, from the Chinese poems which have been so happily translated by Mr. G. C. Stent, that the people of far Cathay are quite as susceptible to the spell of physical beauty as the people of other lands, and that they know as well how to sing and flatter it. Take the following extract, for example: “Bashfully, swimmingly, pleadingly, scoffingly, Temptingly, languidly, lovingly, laughingly, Witchingly, roguishly, playfully, naughtily, Wilfully, waywardly, meltingly, haughtily, Gleamed the eyes of Yang-kuei-fei. When she smiled, her lips unclosing, Two rows of pearly teeth disclosing; Cheeks of alabaster, showing The warm red blood beneath them glowing,— Peaches longing to be bitten, First dew-moistened, then sun-smitten. Four lines Li-tai-pai has written In more expressive words convey What others might in vain essay: ‘Oh for those blushing, dimpled cheeks, That match the rose in hue! If one is kissed, the other speaks, By blushes, _Kiss me too!_’” NEW YEAR’S DAY IN NEW AMSTERDAM. In Diedrich Knickerbocker’s veracious history of New York, we are told that New Year’s day was the favorite festival of the renowned governor Peter Stuyvesant, and was ushered in by the ringing of bells and firing of guns. On that genial day, says Mr. Irving, the fountains of hospitality were broken up, and the whole community was deluged with cherry brandy, true Hollands, and mulled cider; every house was a temple of the jolly god, and many a provident vagabond got drunk out of pure economy,—taking in liquor enough gratis to serve him half a year afterwards.