as it was amusing we notice it. A half drunken beachman or fisherman, just so far gone as to be witty, but who was unmistakeably a Blue, planted himself in front of the balcony, and by his extraordinary shouting succeeded in making himself heard above the surrounding tumult. There was some natural humour about this fellow, and the way in which he shouted excited the laughter of the Mayor and both parties on the balcony. The man shouted until the veins grew large in his forehead; he jumped and screamed—he laughed and waved his hat, and others laughed with him—indeed, for a time all laughed with him; he was in a state of ecstacy or violent enthusiasm. It was difficult for a time to make out what the man meant, but at length he was understood, and his fun was appreciated. Sir E. Lacon wears a full moustache, and so does Sir H. Stracey, and those hirsute ornaments were the objects of this excited individual’s enthusiasm. He laughed and shouted—his voice being heard above the murmur of the crowd,—for fully an hour,—“The beard! the beard! will nobody shave him? A shave! a shave! Fetch a barber! fetch a barber!—(Loud laughter.)—A clean shave! A shilling for a razor! a razor! a razor! O Lord, a clean shave,” &c. Ultimately the man climbed to the top of a post, and threw his hat into the face of a railway porter; the porter ran to him and struck him in the mouth two or three times, with a force that evidently astonished him, and as his scream then became somewhat distressing, he was ignominiously removed to the outside of the crowd. Many other noticeable incidents occurred, which will be found mentioned in our report. But there is one circumstance which did not altogether develop itself at the meeting, that we feel compelled to notice. Society, from experience, knows that the prude is the loudest and severest advocate of virtue; but, as Josephus has remarked, “Every man will think of this as it seemeth good unto him.” We have noticed the Gorleston voters, we have recorded the boastings and professions on both sides, and we have ventilated rumours which have been so far well founded. The incident we are about to mention we can vouch for; it is possible, should circumstances necessitate it, of being proved. On the Wednesday evening, mob law, intimidation, corruption, “the screw,” and all the worst elements of electioneering were resorted to; and we regret to say that the parties who most publicly exhibited themselves as disorderlies were persons whom we won’t classify, but who cried out, “Down with Lacon and Stracey” and “Three cheers for Watkin.” “THE TIN CANISTER.”