A note for me, and the man waiting for an answer, said ye? Now, by the shade of Shadrach, and the chimney of Nebuchadnezzar's fiery furnace! 'tis the bill for the new chimney! Bills, bills, bills! How can a man name his child William? The horrid idea of the partner of his joys, and sorrows, presenting him with a Bill!—and to have that Bill continually in the house-constantly running up and down stairs-always unsettled,-Distraction's in the thought! Tell that man, Bridget, I'm sick; and, lucky thought, say it's the smallpox; and ask him to call again when I've got better, and gone to San Diego for my health.He's gone. I see him from a hole in the window curtain, flying off in a zigzag direction, and looking back timorously, like a jacksnipe, with his long bill. I shall write no more; like that bill, I feel unsettled. Adieu! SQUIBOB IN BENICIA BENICIA, October 1st, 1850. LEAVING the metropolis last evening by the gradually-increasing-in-popularity steamer, "West Point," I "skeeted" up Pablo Bay with the intention of spending a few days at the world-renowned seaport of Benicia. Our Captain (a very pleasant and gentlemanly little fellow by the way) was named Swift, our passengers were emphatically a fast set, the wind blew like well-watered rose-bushes, and the tide was strong in our favor. All these circumstances tended to impress me with the idea that we were to make a wonderfully quick passage, but alas," the race is not always to the Swift," the "Senator" passed us ten miles from the wharf, and it was nine o'clock, and very dark at that, when we were roped in by the side of the "ancient and fishlike " smelling hulk that forms the broad wharf of Benicia. As I shouldered. my carpet-bag, and stepped upon the wharf among the dense crowd of four individuals that were there assembled, and gazing upon the mighty city whose glimmering lights, feebly discernible through the Benician darkness, extended over an area of five |