When Villiam read this conservative proclamation, my boy, he looked thoughtfully into a recently-occupied tumbler for a few moments, and then says he: "There's some intelleck in that. The general covers the whole ground. Ah!" says Villiam, preparing, in a dreamy manner, to wash out the tumbler with something from a decanter, "the general so completely covers the whole ground sometimes, that the police departmink is required to clear it." I believe him, my boy. The intelligent and reliable contrabands, my boy, who have come into Paris from time to time, with valuable news concerning all recent movements not taking place in the Confederacy, were formed lately by Villiam, into a military company, called the Sambory Guard, Captain Bob Shorty being deputed to drill them in the colored-manual of arms. They were dressed in flaming red breeches and black coats, my boy, and each chaotic chap looked like a section of stove-pipe walking about on two radishes. I attended the first drill, my boy, and found the oppressed Africans standing in a line about as regular as so many trees in a maple swamp. Captain Bob Shorty whipped out his sleepless sword, straightened it on a log, stepped to the front, and was just about to give the first order, when, suddenly, he started, threw up his nose, and stood paralyzed. "What's the matter, my blue and gilt?" says I. He stood like one in a dream, and says he: "'Pears to me I smell something." "Yes," says I; "'tis the scent of the roses that hangs round it still." "True," says Captain Bob Shorty, recovering, "it does smell like a cent; and I haven't seen a cent of my pay for such a long time, that the novelty of the odor knocked me. Attention, company!" Only five of the troops were enough startled by this sudden order, my boy, to drop their guns, and only four stooped down to tie their shoes. One very reliable contraband left the ranks, and says he: "Mars'r, hadn't Brudder Rhett better gub out the hymn before the service commence?" "Order in the ranks!" says Captain Bob Shorty, with some asperity, "Attention, Company!--Order Arms!" The troops did this very well, my boy, the muskets coming down at intervals of three minutes, bringing each man's cap with them, and pointing so regularly toward all points of the compass, that no foe could possibly approach from any direction without running on a bayonet. "Excellent!" says Captain Bob Shorty, with enthusiasm. "Only, Mr. Rhett, you needn't hold your gun quite so much like a hoe. Carry arms!" Here Mr. Dana stepped out from the ranks, and says he: "Carrie who, mars'r?" "Go to the rear," says Captain Bob Shorty, indignantly. "Present Arms!" If Present Arms means to stick your bayonet into the next man's side, my boy, the troops did it very well. "Splendid!" says Captain Bob Shorty. "Shoulder Arms--Eyes Right--Double-quick, March! On to Richmond!" The troops obeyed the order, my boy, and haven't been seen since. Perhaps they're going yet, my boy.