'CALIBAN.' "'The wind bloweth where it listeth.

Thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, nor whither it goeth.' That, I believe, is Scripture, though in what chapter or book, or whether it be correctly quoted, I can't possibly say.

However, it behoves me to write a letter to a young woman of the name of E., with whom I was once acquainted, 'in life's morning march, when my spirit was young.' This young woman wished me to write to her some time since, though I have nothing to say--I e'en put it off, day by day, till at last, fearing that she will 'curse me by her gods,' I feel constrained to sit down and tack a few lines together, which she may call a letter or not as she pleases.

Now if the young woman expects sense in this production, she will find herself miserably disappointed.

I shall dress her a dish of salmagundi--I shall cook a hash--compound a stew--toss up an _omelette soufflee a la Francaise_, and send it her with my respects.