* * * * *

THE WATERING PLACES.

Punchinello's Vacations.

Vain heading! This paper is not intended to communicate anything about a
vacation. "Would that it were! says Mr. PUNCHINELLO, from the bottom of
his heart.

Last week Mr. P. intended going to the White Mountains.

But he didn't go.

On his way to the Twenty-third Street depot, he met the Count JOANNES.

"Ah ha! my noble friend!" said the latter. ""Whither away"?"

Mr. P. explained whither he was away; and was amazed to see the singular
expression which instantly spread itself over the countenance of his
noble friend.

"To the "White Mountains!"cried the Count," why, my good fellow, what
are you thinking of? Do you not know that this is September?"

"Certainly I do,"said Mr. P." I know that this is the season when Nature
revels in her richest hues, and Aurora gilds the fairest landscape; when
the rays of glorious old Sol are tempered by the soft caresses of the
balmiest zephyrs, and--"