We are glad to announce the recovery of the Potato. It has been too long absent from the festive board, and we are sure its reappearance at the dinner table will be hailed with all the warmth of a public friend, whose generous nature enables thousands to keep the pot boiling all the year round. How rejoiced the Baked Leg of Mutton will be to embrace its old companion once more! The two agree so well that they never should be separated. We can imagine the pans and kettles too, which have been growing rather rusty in its absence, will now brighten up again at its return, and bless "its dear eyes," _à la_ T. P. Cooke, to see it looking so well. In Ireland its recovery will be quite a national feast. The "whole biling" of them will be, let us hope, in every man's mouth. In England, also, it will be a guest everywhere, from the palace to the potato-can. England is proud of its Champion; and justly—for no Champion strips so quickly for his rounds as the Potato. May it never leave us again! We could well spare a better vegetable. HOW TO MAKE SURE TO WIN. A TALE OF A FAT CATTLE SHOW. The other day, in some country town, A husbandman, who owned the name of Brown, Had such a heifer as was never matched In all the homesteads round; So fine a head, such legs, and buttocks clean, Small-boned, well-fleshed, its peer was never seen, _Juste milieu_—fat and lean. Farmers admired, and graziers praised galore. Until the lucky owner vowed and swore, "The lowest price for't wor a hundred pound." But we all know that love can't get fat upon flowers, And the heifer was found to fatten on praise. Rent day _would_ come round, Yet no hundred pound Appearing—our farmer "flared up" to a blaze, And getting a hint the "stumpy" to raise, Thought the very best way to get the best price Was to dabble a bit—he was not very nice— In a morsel of gambling, and offer his friends A chance for the prize, which should certainly go By way of a _raffle_—five guineas a throw. ——