At the conclusion of this spirited National Anthem, the Border States chaps who have been singing it are invited to have another interview with the President, who has only seen them twice the same morning. As they pass out, the celebrated Miss Columbia appears, wrapt in deep thought and the American flag, and reading the twenty-third proclamation for the current month. She asks her heart if she is indeed divorced--if her once happy Union is indeed broken; and as her heart refuses to answer any such common question, a doubt is allowed to remain in the bosom of the spectator. In deep agony she kneels at the monument of Washington and softly sings "Hail Columbia," while the Southern Confederacy, who has just arrived, proceeds to plant batteries all round her, assisted in the work by reliable contrabands. After some moments spent in prayer for the repose of Secretary Welles, Columbia discovered her surroundings, and is about to make a faint, when the spirit of Napoleon appears, and tells her she has nothing to fear, as he is about to change his base of operations, and take Richmond. He tells her he would have taken it long before but for the Tribune. This is a very fine scene--very fine. The spirit of Napoleon then proceeds to pick up everything he can find and throw it over to the Southern Confederacy, at the same time swinging himself around so that his left fist may be presented to the enemy instead of his right, only pausing long enough to drive back a reliable contraband who has started to desert to him. Matters are progressing admirably, and the Confederacy has only planted 24 more batteries around Columbia, when the Conservative Chorus comes tearing back to the scene, with the news that the President has determined to pay for all runaway slaves in postage-stamps! This splendid stroke of policy so completely staggers the Confederacy, that he only erects thirty-two more batteries, and acknowledges that his back-bone is broken: Strange to say, Columbia still labors under the delusion that she is in danger; but is finally re-assured by the spirit of Napoleon, who convinces her that all is going well, and at once draws his shovel and commences to dig a hole. Columbia asks: "Wherefore this digging?" To which the response is: "Our Union in its broken state Is discord to the soul: And therefore are we digging here To make the Union hole."