ify that the system by which he was enabled to
see is just the thing to enable the deaf to hear! But an instant's
reflection convinced us of the true state of the case. There is an old
German song which translated saith:

'I am the Doctor Iron-beer,
The one who makes the blind to hear,
The man who makes the deaf to see:--
Come with your invalids to me.'

We evidently have a Doctor Iron-beer among us. 'He still lives,' and
enables people to outdo the clairvoyants, who read with their fingers,
by qualifying his patients to peruse the papers with their auricular
organs.

* * * * *

Walter will receive our thanks for the following aesthetic
communication:--

DEAR CONTINENTAL:

Do you know the superb picture of Judith and Holofernes, by
ALLORI? Of course. But the legend?

The painter ALLORI was blessed and cursed with a mistress, one of
the most beautiful women in an age of beauty. He loved her, and
she tormented him, until, to set forth his sufferings, he painted
_la belle dame sans mercy_ as Judith, holding his own decapitated
head by the hair.

'She was more than a match for her lover,' said a young lady,
who--between us--I think is more beautiful than the 'Judith.'

'Yes,' was the answer; 'the engraving proves that she got a-head
of him.'

Of course it was Holofernally bad. I once heard a better one on
the same subject, of scriptural be-head-edness. Where is a centaur
first mentioned? John's head on a charger. The postage stamp on
your lawyer's bill--mine especially--represents the same thing,
with the substitution of General Washington for John. Rarey tamed
Cruiser--I wonder if he could do anything by way of 'taking down'
this legal 'charger' of mine.

Yours truly,
WALTER

* * * * *

Much has been written on oysters. There was a time when England sent
nothing else abroad. 'The poor Britons--they are good for something,'
says SALLUST, in 'The Last Days of Pompeii;' 'they produce an oyster.'
In these days, they export no oysters, but in lieu thereof give us
plenty of pepper-sauce. But to the point,--we mean to the poem,--for
which we are indebted to a Philadelphia contributor:--

OYSTERS!

He stood beside the oysters. Near him lay
A dozen raw upon the half-shell: he
With fork stood ready to engulf them all,
When to his side a reverend gray-