On the Six Hundred.

Whiskey to right of them,
Cocktails to left of them,
Popping corks after them,
Volleyed and thundered,
Yet, 'twere but truth to tell,--
Many a hero fell.
Tho' some did stand it well,
Those that were left of them,
Left of Six Hundred.

Oh! what a bill was paid,
Oh! what a noise they made,
All Long Branch wondered;
Oh! what a noise they made,
They of the Ninth Brigade,
Jolly Six Hundred!

* * * * *

A Sun-burst.

The _Sun_ regretfully announces that PUNCHINELLO is about to "give up
the ghost." PUNCHINELLO begs to assure the Sun that he doesn't keep a
ghost; though, at the same time, the mistake was a natural one enough to
emanate from Mr. C. A. (D. B.) DANA, who keeps a REAL ghost in his
closet.

* * * * *