MR. LINCOLN OPENS THE BALL-HE THINKS MRS.

O'KANE A VERY SERIOUS MATTER.

His Excellency the President, who had been sitting, curled up in an arm-chair, with his legs loosely crossed one over the other, now began to rise, slowing untwisting the kinks of his back, and towering up like one of the genii, or afrites, released from the jar, or jug, in which they had been bottled up for

centuries under the seal of Solomon.

Aisy!" exclaimed Mr. Luke Clark, with unaffected dismay. "It's dashin' your brains out agin the ceilin' you'll be, or tanglin' your shouldhers in the top notches of the shandyleer!"

At length, Mr. Lincoln reached his full height, and said, that he had not quite caught the drift of the song; but from what little of it he did catch, it was just as well that he had caught no more.

"Hear, hear," from Father Murphy, who had reentered the room during the singing of the last four lines.

Being on friendly terms with Great Britain, Mr. Lincoln continued, he trusted that, the song would go no further.

"Hear, hear," from Lord Lyons, who was trying

hard to smother some refluent waves of laugh

ter.

"There are themes," continued Mr. Lincoln"and Mrs. O'Kane is one of them—much too serious to be joked about." With this admonition, made as gentle as he could, he would now ask Private O'Reilly's opinion as to how the next Presidency was going?

PRIVATE O'REILLY ON THE SUCCESSION.

Private O'Reilly's stammer immediately became very bad again, insomuch that Colonel Hay, remembering the successful treatment previously recommended, had to administer, but only as a medicine, another small dose of some amber-hued beverage.

"I think," said Private Miles, when he had recovered his breath, and again wiped his lips with his coat cuff: "I think that the politicianers is all wrong about it, your Riverence's Excellency; and there's not the humblest gossoon in the army to-day, that couldn't tell them more than they know on that subject, wid all their caucussings and convintions."

"Well, explain," said Mr. Chase, rather anxiously, but still preserving all his aplomb of manner and gracious courtesy of smile.

"They could tell them," said Private Miles, "that there's but one man who wears a Black Coat in the United States this blessed and holy day, that can be elected to that office. Mind, I'm not sayin'-for I'm no flattherer, and I'm no seventh son-that he will be. All I do say is, that there's only one Black Coat in the Union, that can be a successful candydate for that office."

HOW THE SOLDIERS WILL VOTE.

"You think blue, with brass buttons, the healthiest color for Presidential aspirants to appear in," queried Mr. Seward, casting a sly glance as he spoke from under his shaggy gray eyebrows in the direction of Secretary Chase.

"Faix, sir, you might sing that same, if you knew any tune that would fit it," was Private O'Reilly's answer. "Every Presidential candidate should appear in blue an' goold, the way Ticknor and Fields publishes their pocket editions of the poicks. There's half a million of us that can vote, though Governor Saymour won't let any of us New York boys vote by proxy; and it's for no black coat in the Union, except one, that the army vote will be given. Everything depinds now on how the war goes. It may be