Upon going into the supper-room, my boy, I beheld a paradise of eatables that made me wish myself a knife and pork, with nothing but a bottle of mustard to keep me company. There were oysters _à la fundum_; turkeys _à la ruffles_; chickens _à la Methusaleh_; beef _à la Bull Run_; fruit _à la stumikake_; jellies _à la Kallararmorbus_; and ices _à la aguefitz_. The ornamental confectionary was beautifully symbolical of the times. At one end of the table, there was a large lump of white candy, with six carpet-tacks lying upon it. This represented the "Tax on Sugar." At the other end was a large platter, containing imitation mud, in which two candy brigadiers were swimming towards each other, with their swords between their teeth. This symbolized "War." These being very hard times, my boy, and the Executive not being inclined to be too expensive in its marketing, a most ingenious expedient was adopted to make it appear that there was just twice as much of certain costly delicacies on the table as there really was. About the centre of the table lay a large mirror, and on this were placed a few expensive dishes. Of course, the looking-glass gave them a double effect. For instance, if there was a pound of beefsteak on the plate, it produced another pound in the glass, and the effect was two pounds. When economy can be thus artistically blended with plentitude, my boy, money ceases to be king, and butcher-bills dwindle. Hereafter, when I receive for my rations a pint of transparent coffee and two granite biscuit, I shall use a looking-glass for a plate. It was the very which-ing hour of the night when the general and myself left the glittering scene, and we had to ask several patrols "which" way to go. On parting with my comrade-in-arms, says I: "General, the ball is a success." He looked at me in three winks, and says he: "It _was_ a success--particularly the bowl of punch!" Yours, for soda-water, ORPHEUS C. KERR. LETTER XXXI. TREATING OF THE GREAT MILITARY ANACONDA, AND THE MODERN XANTIPPE. WASHINGTON, D.C., February 16th, 1862. There is still much lingual gymnastics, my boy, concerning the recent _fête_ sham-pate at the White House; but Colonel Wobert Wobinson, of the Western Cavalry, has extinguished the grumblers by proving that the entertainment was strictly Constitutional. He profoundly observes, my boy, that it comes under the head of that clause of the Constitution which secures to the people of America the "pursuit of happiness;" and, as he justly remarks, if you stop the "pursuit of happiness," where's the Instrument of our Liberties? It pleases me greatly to announce, my boy, that the General of the Mackerel Brigade believes in McClellan, and gorgeously defends him against the attacks of that portion of the depraved press which has friends dying of old age in the Army of the Potomac.