A moist-eyed man, with red hair, here stepped
forward, and, with apologies, laid a silver dollar
on the table (the rescuer bowed, and went on
talking; his half drowned brother was moody and
depressed). A second man put down a two, a
third a five, dollar bill; there was soon a respectable
pile, and all for the gallant and faithful
youth who had risked his own life to save a
brother's.

"Smart chaps," said a bystander from a
suburban village, who saw the two brothers
depart cheered by the sympathising crowd.

"Why, do you know them?" said a second
man, who had laid down the dollars pretty
freely.

"Know them, sure I do. Why, those are the
two fellers as go about saving each other's lives
every day or two. They are the two smartest
swimmers this side of the Alleghany Mountains."

My next is a New York story, and treats of a
possible relation of the two heroic brothers of
Cincinnati.

A New York loafer, the other day, being almost
starved, and afraid of venturing into any bar-
room, or eleven o'clock "restorator," for fear of
being "booted," at last ventured into an eating
booth near the market, magnetically drawn by
the savour of fresh pies and roasted oysters.
Boldly in he went, ordered a fowl of "Old Java,"
swallowed a dish of the best Shrewsbury oysters,
gulped down six sandwiches, topped off with
the biggest half-plate of pumpkin pie, then
called for two of the best "Golden Lion" cigars,
and pronounced everything darned capital—
excellent. The proprietor, not accustomed to such
patrons, gloated over the impending four and
sixpence.

Suddenly the loafer's face, staring out of
window, became convulsed, and roaring out,
"Thunder! there goes my horse!" he ran down
the street, whip in hand, fleet as an Indian
scout.

By the latest accounts, our epicurean and
excitable friend has not yet recovered his
horse.

And now I will give in dialogue the latest
"nigger" story, the point of which is simple
enough, and not in itself worth quoting. I
will call it

A DARKY'S BULL.

Two burly whitewashers met in Broad-street,
New York, and the following conversation took
place:

"Look yeah, Zeke, you knows Roob Guffum?"

"Wal, I duzn't know nobody else."

"Wal, Roob and dis chile had a splay ob
scientific poozleistics last night."

"Wot you call dem poozleistics?"

"W'y, a set-to, niggah."

"Whar?"

"Down Long Wharf."

"Wal, wot o' dat?"

"Nuffin 'ticular, Sam, only I spec dis chile
didn't make much by the peculashun."

"How's dat, Gumbo?"

"W'y, you see, Zeke, dat Roob Guffum
wouldn't treat liquors round wen dis niggah ask
him cibily, an' so I jest pulls his shapo down
ober his forard."

"Wot den?"

"W'y, Sam, to tell you de troof, I spect I
heard sum 'n drop on the pa'ment d'rectly
afterwards, an' wen I turn round to ax what
it wus, I found it was dis niggah and nuffin
shorter. Hi-yah!"

Now, these rude and simple stories, dull as
they are, serve better to illustrate Negro-American
and American-English than all the disquisitions
in the world, or than all Murray or
Webster ever penned. It is impossible to
explain to an Englishman how clearly the use of
"I guess," "I reckon," and "I calkilate," betray
the peculiar state from which the speaker
comes. The peculiar force of that extraordinary
interjection, "Du-tell!" which sounds so like
an entreaty, must be heard to be appreciated.
The peculiar force of "Sure," "Yes, sir," "It is
so," cannot well be described without examples.

The sly use of the word "some," as in "some
corn," meant to indicate millions of bushels, is
not more especially American than those strange
metaphors, such as "Lively as a snapping
turtle," or a "Heart as hard as a hickory nut,
and as tender as a green-house flower." But
it would take a volume to show how full of
metaphors and sly dryness American conversation
generally is.

NEW WORK
BY SIR EDWARD BULWER LYTTON.
NEXT WEEK
Will be continued (to be completed next March)
A STRANGE STORY,
BY THE AUTHOR OF "MY NOVEL," "RIENZI," &c. &c.

Now ready, in 3 vols. post 8vo,
THE FIFTH EDITION of
GREAT EXPECTATIONS.
BY CHARLES DICKENS.
CHAPMAN AND HALL, 193, PICCADILLY.

Just published, price 5s. 6d., bound in cloth,
THE FIFTH VOLUME
of
ALL THE YEAR ROUND.
Containing from Nos. 101 to 120, both inclusive.
The preceding Volumes are always to be had.