The Innocents Abroad.

We are indebted to the Hartford Publishing Company for a copy of Mark Twain’s new work, bearing the above title. Written in the easy and pleasing style of that distinguished humorist, the book is an exception to most traveller’s journals, being not only graphic in its descriptions and reliable in its statements, but in every way eminently readable. Humor is there in no unstinted measure, and pathos is not wanting. We shall refer to the work at greater length in a few days. Sold only by subscription.

“Is this the editorial room of The Buffalo Express?”

“It is,” responded a chorus of voices.

“Are you sure that this is the editorial room of The Buffalo Express?”

“Certainly, what can we do for you?”—and one or two chair occupants made inviting gestures for the stranger to enter the room.

There was a brief pause and then Samuel L. Clemens stepped across the threshold, and with cold and biting emphasis drawled: “Well, if this is the editorial room of The Buffalo Express I think that I ought to have a seat, for I am the editor.”

Of course, the enlightened politicians were effusive in their greetings and each one tried to express his appreciation of “Mark Twain’s little joke,” but the new editor frowned them down and made no bones of letting them know that the nature of his work made it desirable that he be alone. Mark Twain and the politicians never affiliated.

In the many years that Postmaster Almon M. Clapp controlled The Buffalo Express, the counting room and editorial room had become headquarters—or rather lounging places—for local Republican politicians. Each evening would find some of these politicians in the editorial room. Mr. Clapp did not object to their assembling there and the editorial writers bore with them patiently although they often must have interfered with work. Mr. Clemens had not met any of the politicians and not one of them had seen him up to the time of his self-introduction to them on the first evening that he undertook to do editorial work. On that occasion he found every chair in the room occupied and not one familiar face. A general smoke-fest was in progress and nobody paid any attention to the stranger who stood in the doorway. (Berry)

A Pleasant Reunion.—On Saturday last a pleasant company partook of the hospitalities of Mr. E. R. Jewett, at his elegant country residence, located on what used to be known as the “Buffalo Plains,” but which is now far inside our city boundaries, and adjoining the proposed new Park. The company was largely composed of representatives of the Press of our city—of which the host is a founder—and the hours were passed in viewing the beauties of the scenery, in pleasant converse, and in partaking of an elegant repast. There are few so delightful spots about Buffalo, and none where hospitality is more gracefully dispensed.