EDITOR'S TABLE.

GOSSIP WITH READERS AND CORRESPONDENTS. There is a lesson in the following, which, carefully heeded, will be found fruitful of salutary monition: also a 'bit' of local description, which gives to a stranger a vivid idea of at feast one of the prominent features of the 'City of the Prairies: '

'EIGHT squares west of the lake shore, the Chicago River forks, the two branches running north and south. The city is thus tri-sected. The three divisions are connected by draw-bridges. The vicinity of these and especially of the two which unite North and South Chicago- usually presents a very animated scene. A large amount of shipping daily passes up and down the river and its branches; and when the wind is favorable for the entry of vessels into port, the bridges are kept open nearly all the time. The law permits no obstruction of the river. Priority of right is with the vessels, and when one approaches a bridge, the latter must immediately open; and if a second, and third, or more, come up before the first has gone by, they too must effect a passage before the accumulating mass of vehicles and men on each side of the river can be permitted to cross. A detention of ten minutes often collects a hundred drays and carts and carriages at each end of a draw. Policemen are present, whose business it is to see that these vehicles form into line, and come up in regular succession, but in spite of their efforts disorder is inevitable. The populace may have a becoming respect for the police, but frightened horses are ignorant of municipal authority, and for them the lone star' has no terrors.

'Let us stop a moment near one of the bridges. One or two vessels have passed, and the cry is still they come;' while the crowd grows larger and more dissatisfied. Scrutinize the faces of the pedestrians: men of business, anxious to get to their offices: clerks behind time, and every moment's delay risking situations much more easily lost than obtained: Norwegian women, loaded down with great bags of wood, carried on their heads, or strapped upon their backs. Here comes a brig, freighted with lumber, and nearly bridging the channel. Propelled by man-power hand-over-hand, it 'drags its slow length along' at a provokingly wearisome pace. It is a mystery to me how Young America can tolerate such a nuisance. But see, a wiry, long-legged, mercurial individual has leaped upon the boards, is running across the vessel, and now he has reached the other shore, and is off about his business. Most of the male bipeds 'follow their leader,' like a flock of sheep, and are soon safe 'over Jordan.' Safe over, except one, a carpenter, with a plane in his hand, who arrives at the farther side a little too late to leap the chasm, which, as soon as the vessel leaves the bridge, becomes too wide to be cleared by ordinary saltatory skill. Nothing daunted, he throws his plane upon the bank, jumps into the river, makes for a low portion of the wharf, recovers his

plane, and is off after his nose, and possibly after a late breakfast, in which case his courage is easily accounted for, as hunger makes heroes of the greatest cowards.

'The draw has at length closed. Get up on this pile of wood, so as to have a fair view of the spectacle. The scene is worthy of HOGARTH'S pencil. Here, at our side, a wheel has come off a wagon, over-loaded with baggage and emigrants. Emigrants and baggage are tumbled promiscuously into the street. The former, in no wise troubled by the accident, but grinning and chuckling-perhaps at the thought of being carried so far for nothing — shoulder their trunks and march. A few steps from us, the wheels of two wagons have become involved, and the teamsters are making vigorous but ineffectual efforts to disentangle them, assailed meanwhile by a deadly rear-fire of draymen's curses, and urged forward by the stentorian lungs of the bridge-tender, who, seeing more vessels already approaching, vociferates: 'Hurry up! vessels coming! bridge must open!' And see: a pair of enterprising horses, attached to a milk-cart, compassionating the numerous families, who, by reason of this detention, are drinking their coffee without the lacteal fluid, have taken to the side-walk, as presenting the only visible channel of egress from the sea of difficulties which surrounds them. Pedestrians retire into the stores and into the street, giving free right of way to their horseships, who are rapidly nearing the river, a plunge into which will cool their zeal and mix a little more water with the milk. One or two leaps from the brink of the pier, at the side of the bridge, their flight is checked, and they bring up against a store-front, to the consternation of the shopman, who is deeply exercised with fear that he may not be paid for the show-pane which has been shattered in the collision. The knocking down of a flaunting lager-bier sign is the only other injury done by the runaways, who are now quite crest-fallen and subdued, and meekly suffer themselves to be led away, wondering that there is so little appreciation of their efforts to expedite the business of the milkman, and relieve the wants of his customers. Observe that policeman. He is sending back to the very tail of the line a carter, who has been trying to steal a march, and get an advanced place in the procession. At the first street which cuts this at right angles, a man, hauling a car with a single horse, has stalled directly in the crossing, and is receiving his share of draymen's curses, which, however, he generously hands over to his horse, with blows into the bargain. Now the sign, 'Keep off the bridge! is raised from a vertical to a horizontal position. Vehicles are instantly stopped, and if any driver ventures upon what is now forbidden ground, he is forced to take the 'back track.' The prohibition does not extend to pedestrians, who are permitted to cross as long as they think it safe to do so: and those at a distance, observing the sign up, and the draw in motion, quicken their pace, and come up to the bridge at a sharp trot, or more generally a full run. As the draw veers round, and a passage-way of only a few feet is left at the banks, and that rapidly decreasing, collisions occur, persons are knocked down, bonnets are stove in, hats fall into the river. See how composedly that hatless man moves on, without deigning a single look in the direction where his beaver went over-board. He takes for granted that it is ruined. But some 'wrecker' has leaped upon a canal-boat, fortunately moored near the scene of the disaster, and with hooked pole is trying to recover the hat, which rides the waters like a thing of life.' More serious accidents than this often occur. We leave them to graver chroniclers. A company has been formed for the purpose of tunnelling the river. This is probably the only effectual mode of remedying the evils to which allusion has been made. But the draw-bridges are no doubt charged with a great many delays which they have no agency whatever in causing. 'I was detained at the bridge,' is a standing excuse for boarders who come late to their meals, business men who fail to meet their engagements, and especially those lords of creation' who keep late hours, and must have some plea with which to prevent or mollify the wrath of their better halves. The following piece of gossip about one of the latter class, rests on good newspaper authority. A. B. lives in the North Division, and used to find it very convenient, when he had lingered too long among a lot of 'good fellows' on the other side, to plead the bridge. 'The bridge was open, my dear, and I could not get across.' Madam said nothing, but with the subtle deviltry of the sex, plotted revenge and a radical cure of her husband's

procrastinating tendencies. A few weeks ago, as he approached his residence, about the noon of the night, he observed a white dress, enveloping a figure not unlike his wife's, disappear within the door, while a man retreated hastily round the corner. The next night he was home early, but found his wife had just stepped out with a gentleman. On inquiry he learned that the escort was a 'handsome young fellow,' but could not discover his name. His jealousy was now fully aroused, and he resolved on a thorough investigation of the matter. He retired to a front room on the second floor, and pacing hurriedly back and forward, awaited the coming of his truant spouse, while dark suspicions and vague forebodings of impending evil filled his mind. The 'witching hour of night' came, and 'the wee short hour ayant the twal,' but still no wife. His agitation momentarily increased. At last voices are heard. The false one appears, leaning heavily upon the arm of her gallant, and looking up lovingly into his eyes. They linger a moment upon the step. His arm is thrown around her waist- and by JOVE, he's kissing her! The injured husband rushes frantically down stairs, taking six steps at a time, tears open the door, and his wife coolly says: 'Are you home? Let me make you acquainted with my brother.' The brother had arrived from the East the day before, the wife having kept his expected visit a secret. A. B. good-naturedly joined in the laugh against himself, pulled his brother-in-law into the door, and begged to keep the joke quiet: but it leaked out. A. B. gets home in good season now, the bridge to the contrary notwithstanding.

N.'

There's a 'lesson!' ONE among the most pleasant inanimate things to be seen - and smelled as we pass rapidly back and forth from town to country, (on the 'ISAAO P. SMITH' or 'ARROW' steamers, both newly placed in perfect order, and ably commanded,) is the Cedar - Ware, from the extensive Pail and Tub Factory of Storms Brothers, at Nyack. Not a downtransit is made by those steamers without having on board more or less of this beautiful ware, with its smooth outer and inner surface, its bright narrow brass or band-iron hoops, emitting, moreover, a 'sweet-smelling cedar' odor, which so delights the human olfactory. But let us speak of another kind of factory. We visited the Tub and Pail Establishment of the Messrs. STORMS, on a recent occasion; and no similar 'institution' that we ever saw gave us more pleasure. The matériel, in the first place, is of the very best. The cedar is from North-Carolina and Florida; and the hoops, (cut and rolled to measure,) are made expressly for the factory by Messrs. BROWN AND BROTHERS, Waterbury, (Conn.) The machinery 'works like a charm,' in all its parts, and is propelled by the handsomest steam-engine, of twenty-five horse-power, that we 'ever set eyes on.' This is in part the modus operandi: The staves are first sawed out with cylindrical saws. They are then placed in a drying-room, heated with steam-pipes. Next they are cut to a proper width by a circular saw, then ploughed and grooved. The next operation is to place them around the inner circumference of a heavy iron hoop, which, when driven down, holds the staves together. The tub is then placed over a 'chunk,' and turned off outside in a few moments, and hooped. It is next placed in a hollow chunk and turned out, perfectly smooth, inside. The chine is then cut and the bottom inserted, almost as quickly as we could describe the operation. Bails and ears of pails, and handles of tubs are cut and fastened, and wooden button-knob covers turned, before your eyes, with the most astonishing rapidity and precision. Indeed, the whole process is worth going fifty miles to witness. The Factory supplies

orders from all parts of the Union, as well as from France and England. It employs twenty-three hands, and turns out from eight hundred to a thousand dollars' worth of cedar-ware weekly. Its ware, at the Great Exhibition at New-York, took the first premium-medal; and it took the first premiummedal also at the Paris Exhibition, the last held; an elaborate and tasteful work of art, which we were permitted to examine. Orders were received at once from Paris from the samples sent out, which were in no respect different from those turned out every day. The samples attracted so much attention during the exhibition, and so great was the demand for a portion of them, that the agent was compelled to distribute them to different parties, to be placed in the Museum and Royal Garden of Paris. Our notice of this most interesting establishment is already somewhat extended: but we wish to add one more fact, in justice to the proprietors, who are as modest as they are energetic: the factory, with all its machinery, was a 'total loss' by fire, on the twenty-ninth day of July, 1854. In three months from that day, at a cost of ten thousand dollars, it was in complete running order, all its complicated new machinery at work 'like a house a-fire:' no, not exactly that, either for the new building is all of brick, and mainly fire-proof. 'Enough said, for the present, at least. THE last number of that old and excellent bi-monthly, 'The Christian Examiner,' is well filled with good articles; and among them is one which we think does no more than simple justice to DICKENS and THACKERAY, and their comparative literary merits. We subjoin a single passage:

'SINCE DICKENS and THACKERAY are often named together, though no two authors ever stood farther apart, we cannot resist the temptation to record our impression of some of the leading contrasts between them. Mr. DICKENS always keeps himself distinct from his characters, having his own way of speaking for himself, and endowing them with the peculiar forms of expression which belong to each. Mr. THACKERAY runs by the side of his men and women with his caustic remarks and his by-play. The former has a great literary plan, which he wishes to construct or evolve. The other has some pictures on hand which he is willing to show to the spectators. One, genial and glowing from a thousand vivid experiences, is perpetually surprising us with some delicate touch of common feeling, which opens the covered recesses of the past, and thrills the very soul. The other, with slow sympathies, but intent on the business before him, like a hitter engaged at a bout with single-stick, or like a gazer after something ridiculous from his club-house windows-almost hides from us that there is such a thing as soul in man. One, full of natural affections, the tenderest, widest, and most various, seeks in the wretched aspects of our race and world something to pity rather than to scorn. Believing, with SHAKESPEARE'S Fifth HARRY, that

"THERE is some soul of goodness in things evil,
Would men observingly distil it out,'

he addresses himself with an earnest heart to that wise and benevolent chemistry. The other picks open the fairest show of things to discover the ugliness within; and, professing to be an analyzer, would fain demonstrate some lurking elements of bitterness and pollution in the brightest waters. One, picturesque and impassioned, carries us away as much with his many-sided suggestions as with his affecting story, so that we pause every little while for fear of losing something, and often cannot read aloud without a tightening of the throat, or read in silence without a throbbing breast and a moistened eye. The other, coldly sarcastic or dismally jovial, has no more poetry, no more elevation or beauty in what accompanies his pieces, than there is in the subjects of them. One has an eye for all that is lovely and grand in nature, for all that is common and uncommon in the most familiar objects, and for all those subtile connections which they mysteriously hold with the thoughts and affections and lives of men. The other looks but at the downright thing before him, and a very mean and artificial thing it usually is. His stage has no scenery. One has enriched our literature with whole galleries of photographs that almost live upon the walls: sun-shadows of such tender

beauty as little PAUL and little NELL. But who cares to remember the figures which the other has dashed off by gas-light and in tobacco-smoke? Who could find any use in remembering them?'

THE subjoined poem may strike some readers as not being entirely original. A greater mistake could not possibly be made. We, at least, have never seen any thing like it anywhere: and whoso has, let him point it out :

"PEARLS at random strung,

By future poets shall be sung.'

'THE night has come, but not too soon:

Westward the star of empire takes its way:

Ye banks and braes of bonnie Doon!

Blue spirits and white, black spirits and gray.

'Rocked in the cradle of the deep,

Old CASPER's work was done:

Piping on hollow reeds to his pent sheep,
Charge, CHESTER, charge! On, STANLEY, on!

There was a sound of revelry by night,
On Linden when the sun was low:

A voice replied far up the height,
Tall oaks from little acorns grow.

"What if a little rain should say,

I have not loved the world, nor the world me;
Ah! well a day!

Woodman, spare that tree!

My heart leaps up with joy to see
A primrose by the water's brim:
ZACCHEUS, he did climb the tree;

Few of our youth could cope with him.

The prayer of AJAX was for light,

The light that never was on sea or shore.
Pudding and beef make Britons fight
Never more!

'Under a spreading chesnut-tree,

For hours thegither sat;

I and my ANNABEL LEE:

A man's a man for a' that.

Truth crushed to earth shall rise again,

And waste its sweetness on the desert air.

In thunder, lightning, or in rain,

None but the brave deserve the fair.

'Tell me not in mournful numbers,

The child is father of the man:
Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber,

They can conquer who believe they can.

'A change came o'er the spirit of my dream;
Whatever is, is right;

And things are not what they seem:
My native land, good night!'