Feller Sittersuns,--The African may be our brother. Severil hily rispectable gentlemen and some talented females tell us so, and for argyment sake i might be injooced to grant it, tho' I don't beleeve it myself. But the African isn't our sister, and wife, and unkle. He isn't severil of our brothers and fust wife's relashuns. He isn't our grandfather and grate grandfather, and our aunt in the country. Scarcely: And yet numeris persons would have us think. It's troo he runs Congress and severil others grossery's, but he ain't everybody. But we've got the African, or ruther he's got us, and how are we going to do about it? He's a orful noosance. P'raps he isn't to blame for it. P'raps he was created for some wise purpis, like the measles and New England rum, but it's mity hard to see it. At any rate here, and as I stated to Mr. What-is-it, it's a pity he coodent go off somewheres quietly by hisself, where he cood wear red weskits and speckled necties, and gratefy his ambition in varis interestin wayse, without havin a eternal fuss up about him. P'raps I'm bearing down too hard on Cuffy. A QUAKER'S EXCUSE FOR FIRING.--164. A good story is told of a Quaker volunteer, who was in a Virginia skirmish. Coming in pretty close quarters with a Secessionist, he remarked: "Friend, 'tis very unfortunate, but thee standest just where I am going to shoot;" and, blazing away, down came his man. BROTHER OF FOUR MILLION CHILDREN.--165. A Kansas woman, named Million, was lately married, and by her marriage the bride becomes sister to her father and mother and aunt to her brothers and sisters. The groom becomes son of a younger brother, his sister-in-law becomes his mother, and he becomes the brother of four "Million" children. What relation were said parties previous to their marriage? SUSPECTING THE SHELL.--166. When the mine dug under Fort Hill, at Vicksburg, by General Logan, exploded, June 26th, a large number of rebels were killed and wounded. Among others who were blown high above the works was an American citizen of African descent, who fell on his head on the outside of the rebel fort, and to the astonishment of our soldiers was not killed. As some of the men ran towards the darkey, of course carrying their arms, he rose to his feet, and shouted, "For de Lord's sake, sogers, don't shoot dis nigger. I wasn't doin' no fighting; I was only totin' up grub." When asked how high he had been, he replied, "Two or dree mile, I reckon;" and on being asked how he came within our lines said, "Dunno, massa; shell, I spec." A SMART RAILWAY EMPLOYÉ.--167.