"Ha!" says Villiam, starting up, and eyeing me closely through the bottom of a bottle, "you behold me in the agonies of composition. Read this poickry," says he, "and if it aint double X with the foam off, where's your Milton?" I took the paper, my boy, which resembled a specimen-card of dead flies, and read this poem: "The God of Bottles be our aid, When rebels crack us; We'll bend the bottle-neck to him, And he will Bacchus. "By Capt. VILLIAM BROWN, Eskevire." I told Villiam that everything but the words of his poem reminded me of Longfellow, and says he: "Don't mention my undoubted genius in public; because if Seward knew that I wrote poickry, he'd think I wanted to be President in 1865, and he'd get the Honest Old Abe to remove me. I think," says Villiam, abstractedly, "that the Honest Old Abe is like a big bumble bee with his tail cut off, when his Cabinet comes humming around him." Villiam once stirred up the monkeys in a menagerie, my boy, and his metaphors from Natural History are chaste. At this moment a file of the Mackerel Brigade came in, bringing a son of Africa, who looked like a bottle of black ink wrapt up in a dirty towel, and a citizen of Accomac, who claimed him as his slave. "Captain," says the citizen of Accomac, "this nigger belongs to me, and I want him back. Besides, he stole a looking-glass from me, and has got it hid somewheres." Villiam smiled like a pleased clam, and says he: "You say he stole a looking-glass?" "I reckon," says Accomac. "Prisonier!" says Villiam, to the Ethiop, "did you ever see the devil?" "Nebber, sar, since missus died." "Citizen of Accomac," says Villiam, sternly, "you have told a whopper; and I shall keep this child of oppression to black the boots of the United States of America. You say he stole a looking-glass. He says he has never seen the devil. Observe now," says Villiam, argumentatively, "how plain it is, that if he _had_ even _looked_ at your looking-glass, he _must_ have seen the devil about the same time." The citizen of Accomac saw that his falsehood was discovered, my boy, and returned to the bosom of his family cursing like a rifled parson. Villiam then adjourned the court for a week, and sent the contraband out to enjoy the blessings of freedom, digging trenches. It is pleasing, my boy, to see our commanders dispensing justice in this manner; and I don't wonder at the President's wanting to abolish the Supreme Court. Yours, judicially, ORPHEUS C. KERR. LETTER XXIII. CONCERNING BRITISH NEUTRALITY AND ITS COSMOPOLITAN EFFECTS, WITH SOME ACCOUNT OF HOW CAPTAIN BOB SHORTY LOST HIS COMPANY. WASHINGTON, D.C., December 20th, 1861.