_Liberty._ "HALT!" ]

* * * * *

HIRAM GREEN IN GOTHAM.

The venerable "Lait Gustise" sees the Sights, under Perplexing
Difficulties.

The native borned Gothamite mite have notissed, a short time since, a
venerable lookin' ex-Statesman, dressed in a becomin' soot of clothes
and a slick lookin' white hat.

The a-four-said honest old man carried a bloo cotton umbreller in one
hand, and an acksminister carpet bag in t'other. He had jest arroven to
the meetropolis on a North River steambote. The reader has probly gessed
by this time, that the man in question was the subscriber.

If he hasen't so surmised, I would inform him that it was. Jess so.
Arrivin' at a well-known tavern, where hash is provided for man and
beast, I handed my carpet bag over the counter.

The clerk at the offis put on rather more airs than a Revenoo offiser.
In fact, he was so full of airs I got a vilent cold standin' in his
pressence.

"Shan't I take that anshient circus tent?" said he, pintin' to my
umbreller, "and lock it up in the safe?"

I made no reply to this onmanerly interogetory, but strikin' an attitude
of pain, give him one of those gazes which BEN BUTLER allers makes tell,
in tryin' criminal cases.

I looked at that clerk cross-eyed, and it made him squirm.

I wasen't blind--not much.

That clerk wanted to steel _that_ umbreller, to send to HORRIS GREELEY,
so the Filosifer could keep the reign storms of Tammany from spatterin'
his white cote.

I understood his little dodge and nipped it.

"Snowball," said I, addressin' a dark skinned individual with a white
apern, while I was seated at the dinner table, "what in the deuce makes
all your dishes so small?"

"Dem is for one pusson, sah," said he. "Dat is an indiwidual butter
dish, sah. Dem is indiwidual vegetable dishes--and dat's an indiwidual
salt-cellar, sah," said he, pintin' to each piece of crockery.

I was hungry, and the crockery was soon empty.

Seein' a platter of ice cream down the table aways, I got up onto my
feet, and havin' a good long arm, reached for it.

It was awful cold, and sot my stumps to achin'.

I got one holler tooth full of the stuff.

"Snowball," said I, "look here."

"Well, sah?" he replied.

"I've got my tooth full of that cold puddin'," said I, pintin' to the
dish; "please bring me an individual toothpick, so I can dig it out."
He vanished. I coulden't wait, so I undertook to dig it out with my
fork.