ght hand, as if it still grasped the magic
brush and scissors. . . . THE reader will have gathered from an incidental
allusion in an article by Mr. GEORGE HARVEY, in our last number, some idea
of the fervent enthusiasm with which he has studied and copied Nature, in
her every variety of season and changes of the hour, in executing his
beautiful _Landscape Drawings_. We have neither the leisure nor space for
an _adequate_ notice of these pictures; but being solicitous that our town
readers should participate in the great enjoyment which they have afforded
us, we would direct them to Mr. HARVEY'S exhibition-room at the old Apollo
Gallery, nearly opposite the Hospital, in Broadway. . . . HERE is a
pleasant specimen of an '_Unnecessary Disclaimer_,' for which we are
indebted to a metropolitan friend: 'A few evenings since, as a gentleman
was walking up Broadway, and just as he was crossing the side-walk at the
junction of White-street, his feet suddenly slipped from under him, his
hat flew forward with the involuntary jerk, and he measured his length on
the side-walk, striking his bare head on the hard ice, till all rang
again. At the instant it chanced that a lady and gentleman were just
emerging from White-street into Broadway, and the prostrate sufferer,
lying directly across their path, interrupted for a moment their farther
progress. He soon recovered his feet, however, and with one hand on his
newly-developed bump, and the other on his breast, he turned to the couple
whose passage he had impeded, and exclaimed with cool gravity: 'Excuse me;
_I didn't intend to do it!_' Probably he didn't; at all events, his word
was not disputed. . . . MOST likely our readers have not forgotten an
admirable satire upon the 'Songs of the Troubadours,' from which we
extracted some months since the affecting story of 'The Taylzour's
Daughter.' Something in the same style is '_The Doleful Lay of the
Honorable I. O. Uwins_,' a gentleman who threw himself away upon a
bailiff's daughter, to escape from the restraints and pungent odors of a
sponging-house. The 'whole course of wooing' and the result are hinted at
in the ensuing lines:

'There he sate in grief and sorrow,
Rather drunk than otherwise,
Till the golden gush of morrow
Dawned once more upon his eyes;
Till the spunging bailiff's daughter,
Lightly tapping at the door,
Brought his draught of soda-water,
Brandy-bottomed as before.

'Sweet REBECCA! has your