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During the period in which I have had control over the Herald. I have endeavored to the best of my ability to amuse and interest its readers, and I cannot but hope that my good humored efforts have proved successful. If I have given offence to any by the tone of my remarks, I assure them that it has been quite unintentional, and to prove that I bear no malice, I hereby accept their apologies. Certainly no one can complain of a lack of versatility in the last six numbers. Commencing as an Independent Journal, I have gradually passed through all the stages of incipient Whiggery, decided Conservatism, dignified Recantation, budding Democracy and rampant Radicalism, and I now close the series with an entirely literary number, in which, I have carefully abstained from the mention of Baldo and Wigler, I mean, Wagler and Bildo, no-never mind-as Toodles says, I haven't mentioned any of 'em, but been careful to preserve a perfect armed neutrality.

The paper this week will be found particularly stupid. This is the result of deep design on my part; had I attempted any thing remarkably brilliant, you would all have detected it, and said, probably with truth;-Ah, this is Phoenix's last appearance, he has tried to be very funny, and has made a miserable failure of it. Hee! hee! hee! Oh! no, my Public, an ancient weasel may not be detected in the act of slumber, in that manner. I was well aware of all this, and have been as dull and prosy as possible to avoid it. Very little news will be found in the Herald this week: the fact is, there never is much news in it, and it is very

well that it is so; the climate here is so delightful, that residents, in the enjoyment of their dolce far niente, care very little about what is going on elsewhere, and residents in other places, care very little about what is going on in San Diego, so all parties are likely to be gratified with the little paper, "and long may it wave.”

In conclusion, I am gratified to be able to state that Johnny's office (the fighting department), for the last six weeks, has been a sinecure, and with the exception of the atrocious conduct of one miscreant, who was detected very early one morning, in the act of chalking a s s on our office door, and who was dismissed with a harmless kick, and a gentle admonition that he should not write his name on other persons' property, our course has been peaceful, and undisturbed by any expression of an unpleasant nature.

So, farewell Public, I hope you will do well; I do, upon my soul. This leader is ended, and if there be any man among you who thinks he could write a better one, let him try it, and if he succeeds, I shall merely remark, that I could have done it myself if I had tried. Adios!

Respectably Yours.

INTERVIEW BETWEEN THE EDITOR AND PHOENIX.

The Thomas Hunt had arrived, she lay at the wharf at New Town, and a rumor had reached our ears that "the

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"Judge " was on board. Public anxiety had been excited to the highest pitch to witness the result of the meeting between us. It had been stated publicly that "the Judge: would whip us the moment he arrived; but though we thought a conflict probable, we had never been very sanguine as to its terminating in this manner. Coolly we gazed from the window of the Office upon the New Town road; we descried a cloud of dust in the distance; high above it waved a whip lash, and we said, "the Judge " cometh, and “his driving is like that of Jehu the son of Nimshi, for he driveth furiously."

Calmly we seated ourselves in the " arm chair,” and continued our labors upon our magnificent Pictorial. Anon, a step, a heavy step, was heard upon the stairs, and "the Judge " stood before us.

"In shape and gesture proudly eminent, stood like a but his face deep scars of thunder had in

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trenched, and care sat on his faded cheek; but under brows of dauntless courage and considerate pride, waiting revenge."

We rose, and with an unfaltering voice said: "Well, Judge, how do you do?" He made no reply, but commenced taking off his coat.

We removed ours, also our cravat.

The sixth and last round, is described by the pressman and compositors, as having been fearfully scientific. We held

"the Judge" down over the Press by our nose (which we had inserted between his teeth for that purpose), and while our hair was employed in holding one of his hands, we held the other in our left, and with the "sheep's foot " brandished above our head, shouted to him, "say Waldo," Never! he gasped

Oh! my Bigler he would have muttered,

But that he 'dried up,' ere the word was uttered.

At this moment, we discovered that we had been laboring under a “misunderstanding," and through the amicable intervention of the pressman, who thrust a roller between our faces (which gave the whole affair a very different complexion), the matter was finally settled on the most friendly terms" and without prejudice to the honor of either party." We write this while sitting without any clothing, except our left stocking, and the rim of our hat encircling our neck like a 'ruff' of the Elizabethan era-that article of dress having been knocked over our head at an early stage of the proceedings, and the crown subsequently torn off, while the Judge is sopping his eye with cold water, in the next room, a small boy standing beside the sufferer with a basin, and glancing with interest over the advertisements on the second page of the San Diego Herald, a fair copy of which was struck off upon the back of his shirt, at the time we held him over the Press. Thus ends our description of this long anticipate l personal collision, of which the public can believe precisely as much as they please if they dis

believe the whole of it, we shall not be at all offended, but can simply quote as much to the point, what might have been the commencement of our epitaph, had we fallen in the conflict,

"HERE LIES PHOENIX.'

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