Mr. Smith--you know Mr. Smith, sir, I suppose?"

"Why, yes; the name strikes me as _somewhat_ familiar; do you refer to
_John Smith_?" I observed, beginning to participate in the joke, which
began to develop itself pretty distinctly.

"Yes, sir; I believe his name is John--John R. Smith; he's a splendid
artist, sir; _his_ sketch or panorama is a beauty! Sir! did you ever see
his panorama?"

"I think I did, in New York," I replied.

By this time some dozen or two visitors had congregated around us, and I
was the centre of a considerable circle, and from the whispers, and
pointing of fingers, I felt duly sensible, that, great or small, I was a
LION! Under what auspices, I was in too dense a fog to make out; to me
it was an unaccountable mist'ry.

"I'll tell you what I can do, sir," continued my toady; "I can have a
small platform erected, outside of the cupola, for you, to place your
_designs_ or sketches on, and you'll not be so liable to be disturbed.
Mr. Smith, he had a platform made, sir."

I beckoned the man to step aside, in the Senate Chamber.

"Now, sir," said I, "you will please inform me, who the devil do you
take me for?"

"Oh, I knew who you were, the moment you came in, sir," said he, with a
very knowing leer out of his half-squinting eyes.

"Did you? Well then I must certainly give you credit for devilish keen
perception; but, if it's a fair question," I continued, "what do you
mean by fixing a platform for my _designs_? You don't think I'm going to
fly, jump or deliver orations from the cupola, do you?"

"No, I don't; but you're to draw a grand panorama of Boston, ain't you?"

"ME?"

"Yes, you; ain't your name Mr. Banvard?"

"Oh, yes, yes--I understand--you've found me out, but keep dark--mum's
the word--you understand?" said I, winkingly.

"Yes, sir; I'll fix it all right; you'll want the platform outside, I
guess."

"Yes; out with it, and _keep dark until I come!_"

I skeeted down them steps into the Common to let off my corked up
risibilities.--Whether the man actually did prepare a platform for my
designs, or whether Banvard ever went to take his designs there, I am
unable to say, as I went South a few days afterward, and did not return
for some time.

The Exorbitancy of Meanness.

Few _extravaganzas_ of man or woman lay such a heavy _stress_ upon the
pocket-book or purse as meanness. This may seem paradoxical, but it's
nothing of the kind. How many thousands to save a ce