g-places--Stuyvesant Square.

"Uncle Teddy," exclaimed Billy, with ardor, "I wish I could do something
to show you how much I think of you for being so good to me. I don't
know how. Would it make you happy if I was to learn a hymn for you,--a
smashing big hymn--six verses, long metre, and no grumbling?"

"No, Billy; you make me happy enough just by being a good boy."

"Oh, Uncle Teddy!" replied Billy, decidedly, "I'm afraid I can't do it.
I've tried so often, and I always make such an awful mess of it." ...

We now got into a Broadway stage going down, and being unable, on
account of the noise, to converse further upon those spiritual conflicts
of Billy's which so much interested me, amused ourselves with looking
out until just as we reached the Astor House, when he asked me where we
were going.

"Where do you guess?" said I.

He cast a glance through the front window, and his face became
irradiated. Oh, there's nothing like the simple, cheap luxury of
pleasing a child, to create sunshine enough for the chasing away of the
bluest adult devils.

"We're going to Barnum's!" said Billy, involuntarily clapping his hands.

So we were; and, much as stuck-up people pretend to look down on the
place, I frequently am. Not only so, but I always see that class largely
represented there when I do go. To be sure, they always make believe
that they only come to amuse the children, or because they've country
cousins visiting them, and never fail to refer to the vulgar set one
finds there, and the fact of the animals smelling like any thing but
Jockey Club; yet I notice that after they've been in the hall three
minutes they're as much interested as any of the people they come to
pooh-pooh, and only put on the high-bred air when they fancy some of
their own class are looking at them. I boldly acknowledge that I go
because I like it. I am especially happy, to be sure, if I have a child
along to go into ecstasies, and give me a chance, by asking questions,
for the exhibition of that fund of information which is said to be one
of my chief charms in the social circle, and on several occasions has
led that portion of the public immediately about the Happy Family into
the erroneous impression that I was Mr. Barnum, explaining his five
hundred thousand curiosities.

On the present occasion, we found several visitors of the better class
in the room devoted to the aquarium. Among these was a young lady,
apparently about nineteen, in a t