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Corcoran regales the Northern mob, he tells of Southern regiments in which scarcely a man knows how to write his name. The airs that this ex- Queen's policeman in Ireland, and ex-doggery keeper of New York, puts on, are infinitely amusing. It is scarcely worth while to impeach the veracity of such a pink of decency as Michael Corcoran; but whilst he could certainly have had no opportunity of knowing the fact to which he testifies, he must at least admit, as was said in reply to a similar taunt in the first Revolution, by an officer who been cutting the British to pieces, that whether the Southern boys know how to write or not, they at least know ‘"how to make their mark. "’
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