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The play is, upon the whole, highly moral; it has three commendable ends in view, to show first that Buffalo Bill, Texas Jack and Cale Durg (Ned Buntline) are the three greatest men that ever lived; second, that Lo, the poor Indian, is a fraud, and third that gunpowder and bourbon whisky are the most destructive and explosive material agents at present known to the descendants of Adam. If the plot were not so complicated we would explain it at length, but it's subtle character will not admit of proper analysis at the hands of daily journalism. Suffice it to say that the plot passes ordinary comprehension, and is only less remarkable than the heroes it calls into work. Before describing the illustrations and never to be forgotten trinity, the reader must know that the "Scouts" is prefaced by a beautiful and most impressive sketch called "Love's Battle," This gem serves three highly useful purposes- First, that of a prologue to the "Scouts;" second, to display the versatility of Mormon Ben, and third, to exhibit the delicate, airy, and altogether admirable form of the sprightly Mlle, Morlacohi, who dances the brain of Mormon Benjamin clean away in a maze of gauze skirts, tight drawers, languishing looks and suggestive smiles, The battle ends with Benjamin's capitulation, just as every body with any perception of justice saw it must end.

The battle being over the curtain rises upon any portion of the Rocky Mountains conveniently at hand in the theatre. The part at hand in the Academy last night bore a suspicious resemblance to the imposing eminence that did service a few weeks ago in Jefferson's Rip Van Winkle. The first character who appeared was the tragic and impressive Cale Durg (Mr. Edward Buntline writer of soul stirring romance for the kitchen companion, and waiting maid souvenir). Thegentle Cale with a stately tread advances to the footlights, ans in a husky voice proceeds to apostrophise the orchestra, the rooks, mountains and silvery steams so dear to him. He tells in a sweetly confidential tone how, induced to leave the haunts of white avarice, he had found a home among those wilds, and experienced a friendship at the hands of these great grand and glorious products of nature (still talking earnestly at the leader of the German band) that had amply compensated for the loss of civilized luxurious. In the taking soliloquy he consumes five minutes, to the delight of the youths and maidens before referred to. At its and he suddenly recollects that his object on the scene was not so much to charm the woods and hills as to meet his friends Texas Jack and Buffalo Bill. He wonders for a moment that they have not yet appeared, but looking at the sun discovers that it is just the moment when the braves were to appear, and with that discovery they do appear, to the immense delight of the gallery. Over the heights constructed for Rip Van Winkle's goblins the rade hunters make their descent, and are soon by the side of the redoubtable Cale, and then there is a scene, and what a scene! The sweet familiarity, the ease, the grace, the intense naturalness, are not to be described. The three look at the leader of the orchestra, and make that good soul shake in his boots as they swear to take his scalp at the first favorable opportunity. After this they look to their arms and, seeing evidently for the first time that they are nre, proceed to puff the makers who presented them. The scene closes at this joint and the next opens with an Indian fight in which several trihes are entirely

The play is, upon the whole, highly moral; it has three commendable ends in view, to show first that Buffalo Bill, Texas Jack and Cale Durg (Ned Buntline) are the three greatest men that ever lived; second, that Lo, the poor Indian, is a fraud, and third that gunpowder and bourbon whisky are the most destructive and explosive material agents at present known to the descendants of Adam. If the plot were not so complicated we would explain it at length, but it's subtle character will not admit of proper analysis at the hands of daily journalism. Suffice it to say that the plot passes ordinary comprehension, and is only less remarkable than the heroes it calls into work. Before describing the illustrations and never to be forgotten trinity, the reader must know that the "Scouts" is prefaced by a beautiful and most impressive sketch called "Love's Battle," This gem serves three highly useful purposes- First, that of a prologue to the "Scouts;" second, to display the versatility of Mormon Ben, and third, to exhibit the delicate, airy, and altogether admirable form of the sprightly Mlle, Morlacohi, who dances the brain of Mormon Benjamin clean away in a maze of gauze skirts, tight drawers, languishing looks and suggestive smiles, The battle ends with Benjamin's capitulation, just as every body with any perception of justice saw it must end. The battle being over the curtain rises upon any portion of the Rocky Mountains conveniently at hand in the theatre. The part at hand in the Academy last night bore a suspicious resemblance to the imposing eminence that did service a few weeks ago in Jefferson's Rip Van Winkle. The first character who appeared was the tragic and impressive Cale Durg (Mr. Edward Buntline writer of soul stirring romance for the kitchen companion, and waiting maid souvenir). Thegentle Cale with a stately tread advances to the footlights, ans in a husky voice proceeds to apostrophise the orchestra, the rooks, mountains and silvery steams so dear to him. He tells in a sweetly confidential tone how, induced to leave the haunts of white avarice, he had found a home among those wilds, and experienced a friendship at the hands of these great grand and glorious products of nature (still talking earnestly at the leader of the German band) that had amply compensated for the loss of civilized luxurious. In the taking soliloquy he consumes five minutes, to the delight of the youths and maidens before referred to. At its and he suddenly recollects that his object on the scene was not so much to charm the woods and hills as to meet his friends Texas Jack and Buffalo Bill. He wonders for a moment that they have not yet appeared, but looking at the sun discovers that it is just the moment when the braves were to appear, and with that discovery they do appear, to the immense delight of the gallery. Over the heights constructed for Rip Van Winkle's goblins the rade hunters make their descent, and are soon by the side of the redoubtable Cale, and then there is a scene, and what a scene! The sweet familiarity, the ease, the grace, the intense naturalness, are not to be described. The three look at the leader of the orchestra, and make that good soul shake in his boots as they swear to take his scalp at the first favorable opportunity. After this they look to their arms and, seeing evidently for the first time that they are nre, proceed to puff the makers who presented them. The scene closes at this joint and the next opens with an Indian fight in which several trihes are entirely