THE MAN OF ASHLAND.
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Somebody, it seems, has composed march,
and dedicated it to Mr.. Clay, and somebody else
has asked him to &c cut a stick to be staff for
a dandy coon-banner that is to be. We suppose
the march is to be played when Mr. Clay goes
next to look at the White House, and think more
than probable that the stick is to be held over
the swimming heads and tOttering forms of a cho-
sen band of hard-ciderites. Mr.. Clay is welcome
to all the honor he may gain by such Disgusting
mummery.