There is hardly any other public question of greater interest, at the present, than is that of our national paper money. Every man has or wishes to have some of it in his pocket, and is greatly exercised in mind as to its value. The prevailing impression is that it is not a safe thing to keep, for there was never before so much reckless extravagance. So it was, the records tell us, in the days of the old Continental currency. Army officers lived fast then, as too many of them are living now, and it was that sort of folly which began the ruin of General Benedict Arnold.
There is a very deep interest in these national engravings, representing dollars, and one of the Washington papers last evening printed a stiffly formal notice that "the original greenback" would be on free exhibition at 8 o'clock this morning in front of the President's house. No doubt there will be a crowd gathered for a look at such a show as that, and we will be on hand half an hour or so ahead of time.
Almost all of these residences, larger or smaller, around this open square opposite the White House, are connected with historical reminiscences. We have no time now for anecdotes. Out there, in the middle of the square, is the equestrian marvel in bronze which did so much for Clark Mills. It also did something for Andrew Jackson, recording the fact that he was a good horseman, and could keep the saddle while the brute under him was on his hind feet. Also, that he always rode a horse with a high rolling tail, of a size and sweep sufficient to balance the animal himself after both were turned into bronze. Just before Lincoln got here, and when the city seemed to be all one hothouse of sympathy with Secession, that statue did someting better than to merely keep its balance. It was very much the fashion among the young women sympathizers and some others, to wear what were called secession rosettes. Early one morning, Andrew Jackson's brass horse got hold of altogether the largest and most brilliant rosette of that kind that had yet