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300 SCENE IN A MUSIC STORE. Proprietor and customer discussing the merits of anew piano. Neither of them can play. Enter a freckle-faced, sharp, grey-eyed individual, with a grey coat, a round felt hat and mud boots, lie comes in with quite a free and easy step and manner, merely as if a sudden curi osity seized him in passing. Evidently he was never in a music store before. Just as evidently from the country — sharp but “green.” Stands staring at the piano for a moment without being no ticed. Suddenly “dabs” his big lingers on the keys, and drawls back, startled at the noise he produces. “My golly, stranger, what d’you call that ere critter ?” “A piano, sir,” said the proprietor briefly, and turning away impatiently. “Gee huminy ! a pyanner. Jist so! My Swouns, ain’t it a critter! Is that what you make singing with, stranger'?” “No, sir ;itisto be played upon. Ex cuse me for a moment. lam busy.” “Jist so! Well, 1 swoun Id like to hear the critter talk. Play a teune, stran ger, won’t you?” “1 don’t play, sir. Besides, I am busy.” “Jist so! Now do oblige a feller, won’t you ? I’ll do the same for yeou one time or nother. Jist come up my wav, and see es I don’t show yeou the •/ ‘ •/ ropes. Play a teune, won’t yeou?” “No, sir !” replied the proprietor, curtly and sharply. “Well, yeou need’nt get riled abeout it. Stranger, you play a feller a teune, won’t you?” said the country man, turn ing to the customer, with an earnest look. “I only play in the morning before breakfast,” replied the customer gravely. “Now, don’t be obstroperous, stran ger. Jevvhilikins !if yeou wanted to hear a planner as bad as 1 dew, yeou’d make the old thing rip right olf.” “Never play after breakfast, sir ; it’s against my principles.” “Oh, deni your principles, stranger.” Jist play a feller a teune. By golly, I’ll pay for it, es it cost dad the old grey mare. “Can’t do it sir.” “Yeou won’t.” “No.” “Well, I jist tell you what, stranger,” said the countryman, getting red in the face and straitening himself, “I don’t be lieve yeou ever did play on the denied old thing.” “You’ve hit it to a TANARUS,” replied the cus tomer, smiling. “Jist so ! All I’ve got to say is yeou’re a mighty mean, ignorant set o’white peo pie, es you don’t know heow to play on the pyanner,” And the youth withdrew indignant. N. 0. Picayune. SOUTHERN LITERARY GAZETTE. STALE PUNS. A witty London newspaper, once is sued the following edict against certain puns which are peculiarly apt to beset the votaries of that form of wit: — All the following travelling puns are strictly prohibited : —All allusions upon entering a town, to the pound and the stocks —knowing a man by his gait, and not liking his style —calling a tall turn pike keeper a colossus of roads—paying the post-boy’s charges of ways and means —seeing no sign of an inn —or, replying sir, you are out, to your friend who says he does—talking of a hedger having a stake in the bank —all allusions to sun and air to anew married couple—all stuff about village belles —calling the bel fry a court of a peal —saying, upon two carpenters putting up paling, that they are very peaceable men to be fencing in a field—all trash about “ manors make the man,” in the shooting season, and all such stuff about trees, after this fashion, “that’s a pop’lar tree —I’ll turn over, a new leaf and make my bough f &c., &c. Buns upon field sports, such as racing being a matter of course —horses starting without being shy—a good shot being fond of his butt and his barrel —or saying that a man fishing deserves a rod for ta king such a line; if he is sitting under a bridge, calling him an arch fellow—or supposing him a nobleman because he takes his place among the piers —or that ho will catch nothing but cold, and no fish by hook or by crook. All these are prohibited. To talk of yellow pickles at dinner, and say the way to Turn ‘em Green is through Hammersmith —all al lusions to eating men, for Eton men, or Staines on the table-cloth, or Egg-ham, are all exploded —as is all stuff —about Maids and Thornbacks, and Plaice —or saying to a lady who asks you to help her to the wing of a chicken, that it is a mere matter of a pinion —all quibbles about dressing hare and cutting it —all stuff about a merry fellow being given to wine —or upon helping yourself to say you have a platonic affection for roast beef—all are entirely banished. We have not room to set down all the prohibited puns extant; but we have just shown that the things which one hears, when one dines in the city, (where men eat peas with a tw r o pronged fork, and bet hats with eacli other,) as novelties, and the perfection of good fun, are all flat, stale, and unprofitable to those who have lived a little longer and seen a little more cl of the world, and who have heard puns when it was the fashion to commit them at the west end of the town. These hints are thrown out for the particular use of some sprightly persons, with whose (ace tiousness we have of late extremely pes tered—we apologize to our rational read ers for the insertion of such stuff, even by way of surfeit to our quibbling patients. RANDOM READINGS. — “Send Down Sal !”—A correspon dent of the Milwaukie News says he once attended a meeting of “cullud pus suns,” in Maryland, and was much amus ed at the execution of a chorus by the choir. The masculine darkies were ar ranged “like four and twenty black-birds all in a row” on one side, and the female on the other. The latter commenced the chorus with : “Oh ! for a man—oh ! for a man—oh ! for a man sion in the skies !” To which the former responded : “Send down sal—send down sal—send down sal vation to my soul!” —A pedantic fellow called for a bottle of hock at a tavern, which the waiter not hearing distinctly, asked him to repeat. “A bottle of hock—hie—hsec —hock,” replied the visitor. After sitting, however, for a long time, and no wine appearing, he ventured to ring again, and inquire into the cause of the delay. “Did 1 not order some hock, sir ? Why is it not brought in.” “Because,” answered the water, who had been taught Latin grammar, “you afterwards declined it.” —llorneTooke, being asked by George 111. whether he played at cards, refilled, “1 cannot, your majesty, tell a Icing from a knave.” “You’ve a cowld, Mrs. Leary, dear,” said one of a swarm of Irish hop-pickers, to her crony, at Farnham. “Indeed, and it’s thrue for you, Mrs. Mahon.” “And where did you get that, honey ?” “Shure,’ and I slept last night in the field, and for got to shut the gate, now /” —An elderly lady, residing in South ernhay, asked Tompkins what sort of a tree the tree of liberty was. “A pop'lar tree, ma’am,” was the immediate reply of our sagacious friend. —General Lane said one day, at In dianapolis, in his speech after dinner, that he was u too full for utterance —“Millions for de fencef as the darkey exclaimed when the dog chased him through the apple orchard. —Mr. Bottlebury says if there’s any thing he does utterly loathe, hate, detest, abhor, it is a grog shop. It robs a man of his fourpences, bis time, his sleep, and his domestic feelings. If a man must j drink, let him buy his liquor by the gal- j lon, and share it with his wife and child- j ren. In this way he will keep his aflfec-! tions centered at home ; besides, it looks so very cosy to see a kind husband and a loving father get drunk in the bosom of his family. Go it Bottlebury!— True , Flag. [.December 25,