"And I'll see to the bill, Sheriff, while the waiter brings the ale,"
said the Ex-M. C., leaving the room "for a moment," to speak to the
landlord.

"Landlord," says the Diddler, "do you know that gentleman with whom I've
dined in 15?"

"No, I don't," says the landlord.

"Well," continues Diddler, "I've no _particular_ acquaintance with him;
he invited me here to dine; I suppose he intends to pay for what he
ordered, but (whispering) _you had better get your money before he gets
out of that room!_"

"Oh! oh! coming that are dodge, eh? I'll show him!" said the burly
landlord, making tracks for the room, from which the Sheriff was now
emerging, to look after his prisoner.

"There's for the ale," says the Diddler, placing half a dollar in the
waiter's hand; "I ordered that, and there's for it." So saying, he
vamosed.

"Say, but look here, Buck, I say, hold on; I've got a writ, and--"

"Hang the writ! Pay your bill like a gentleman, and come along!"
exclaimed the Ex-M. C., making himself _scarce!_

It was in vain that the Sheriff stated his "authority," and innocence in
the pecuniary affairs of the dinner, for the waiter swore roundly that
the other gentleman had paid for all he ordered, and the landlord, who
could not be convinced to the contrary, swore that the idea was to gouge
him, which couldn't be done, and before the Sheriff got off, he had his
wallet depleted of five dollars; and he not only lost his prisoner, but
lost his temper, at the trick played upon him by the Hon. Jeremy
Diddler.

Governor Mifflin's First Coal Fire.

It is truly astonishing, that the inexhaustible beds--mines of
anthracite coal, lying along the Schuylkill river and ridges, valleys
and mountains, from old Berks county to the mountains of Shamokin, were
not found out and applied to domestic uses, fully fifty years before
they were! Coal has been exhumed from the earth, and burned in forges
and grates in Europe, from time immemorial, we think, yet we distinctly
remember when a few canal boats only were engaged in transporting from
the few mines that were open and worked along the Schuylkill--the
comparatively few tons of anthracite coal consumed in Philadelphia, not
sent away. As far back as 1820, we believe, there was but little if any
coal shipped to Philadelphia, from the Schuylkill mines at all.

Our venerable friend, the still vivacious and clear-headed Col. Davis,
of Delaware, gave us, a few years ago, a rather amu