dish of baked beans. FORNEY vexes his gigantic intellect with iced water
and tobacco, (of the latter, "two papers, both daily.") Mr. TILTON composes
as he reposes in his night-dress, with his hair powdered and "a strawberry
mark upon his left arm." Mr. PARTON writes with his toes, his hands being
employed meanwhile knitting hoods for the destitute children of Alaska. Mr.
P. is a philanthropist. BAYARD TAYLOR writes only in his sleep or while in
a trance state--notwithstanding the fact that he lives in the State of
Pennsylvania. He will then dictate enough to require the services of three
or four stenographers, and in the morning is ready to attend to the
laborious and exacting duties attached to the position of stockholder in
the New-York _Tribune_. Mr. GREELEY conceives some of his most
brilliant editorial articles while churning the mercurial milk of the
Chappaqua farm into butter; or vexing the gracious grain with the flying
flail; or listening to the pensive murmurings of the plaintive pigs, and
the whispered cadences of the kindly cattle. RICHARD GRANT WHITE can't
write, it is said, until a towel moistened with Cologne water is applied to
his nostrils. Sometimes, however, he varies the monotony of this method by
riding several miles in a Third Avenue car, which produces a similar
effect. OAKEY HALL writes his best things while riding on horseback in
Central Park; his saddle being arranged with a writing-desk accompaniment;
and while OAKEY dashes off the sentences, his horse furnishes the Stops.
And just here we propose to stop furnishing further revelations concerning
the men whose deeds have made their names famous in current national and
local history.

* * * * *

[Illustration: GOSSIP IN A SCHOOL-HOUSE.

_Teacher_. "WELL, MINNIE, HAVE YOU ANY THING NEW AT HOME?"