A Western paper gives the following notice:--All notices of marriage, where no bride-cake is sent, will be set up in small type, and poked into some outlandish corner of the papers. Where a handsome piece of cake is sent, it will be put conspicuously in large letters; when gloves, or other bride favours are added, a piece of illustrative poetry will be given in addition. When, however, the editor attends the ceremony in _propriâ personâ_, and kisses the bride, it will have especial notice--very large type, and the most appropriate poetry that can be begged, borrowed, stolen, or coined from the brain editorial. A HOMELY FLAG OF TRUCE.--48. A rebel at Gettysburg, wishing to surrender, and having nothing else for a flag of truce, dived his hands into his pantaloons, and elevated his shirt above his head, amid roars of laughter from the Federals, who immediately accepted his unconditional surrender. Rather a good thing for that rebel that he was the possessor of such a luxury as a reasonably clean shirt. HE HAD HIM THAT TIME.--49. A candidate for office, wishing to describe his opponent as a "soulless man," said: "Some persons hold the opinion that just at the precise moment after one human being dies, another is born, and the soul enters and animates the new-born babe. Now, I have made particular inquiries concerning my opponent, and I find that for some hours before he drew breath nothing but a donkey died. Fellow-citizens, I will now leave you to draw the inference." "DE DISSOLUTION OF COPARSNIPS."--50. A coloured firm in Newark, New Jersey, having suffered some pecuniary embarrassments, recently closed business, and the senior member gave to the public the following "notis:"--"De dissolution of coparsnips heretofo resisting twixt me and Mose Jones in the barber perfession, am heretofo resolved. Pussons who ose must pay to de scriber. Dem what de firm ose must call on Jones, as de firm is insolved." UNACCEPTABLE GRATITUDE.--51. Lieutenant J----n, late of the 16th regiment, was, a few days ago, walking down Main Street, Utica, when he was accosted by a fellow, half soldier, half beggar, with a most reverential military salute. "God bless your honour," said the man, whose accent betrayed him to be Irish, "and long life to you." "How do you know me?" said the lieutenant. "Is it how do I know your honour?" responded Pat. "Good right, sure, I have to know the man who saved my life in battle." The lieutenant, highly gratified at this tribute to his valour, slid a fifty cent bill into his hand, and asked him when. "God bless your honour, and long life to you," said the grateful veteran. "Sure it was at Antietam, when, seeing your honour run away as fast as your legs could carry you from the rebels I followed your lead, and ran after you out of the way whereby, under God, I saved my life. Oh! good luck to your honour; I never will forget it to you." FEELING HER WAY.--52.