Daily National Intelligencer

TO ALL WHOM IT MAY CONCERN.

The last time I came to the city, I mentioned the bad state of the only street by which it can be entered direct from Montgomery county, and requested the attention of the persons who are appointed for the purpose of keeping it in repair. I was in hopes that my representation would have attracted notice; but, on the strictest enquiry, I cannot find that the street has since been looked at, except by such poor devils as have attempted a short cut to the city, and stuck fast in the mud holes with which it abounds.

In talking with a neighbor of mine the other day about this street, poh! says he; you will never get them to mend it. How so, says I? Because, says he, you cannot get into the city council. What, says I, has that to do with mending a street? Ask, says he, Mr. A, and Mr. B, and Mr. C, if they would have succeeded in getting streets opened to their doors, if they had not been in the City Council. Now, suppose Mr. A says to Mr. B, will you vote for an appropriation to open a street to my lots if I vote for one to be opened to yours? Yes, says Mr. B, and the bargain is closed. Now, you cannot make such agreement, unless you can get into the City Council; and, Mr. Simple, I see very little probability of that. You may write and write, until doomsday, and so may Mr. "A Waterman," about his pump; but, unless you can get into the City Council, you will both write in vain. Now, this I think very hard of, considering I have no other way of engaging the attention of their honors. I have no right to address them in any other way, as I pay no taxes: and have resorted to this as one least likely to offend, and one, too, which it is probable they will all see. Mr. "A Waterman" says an election will soon take place; this I did not know before; but, since it is so, I take the liberty of asking those interested in the welfare of the city, to elect those who will give more attention to its general than to their own particular interests.

SOLOMON SIMPLE.

N. B. There have been great talks about turnpikes; and some of my neighbors are delighted with the idea of the one to Rockville. But, says I, if we can't get them to mend their streets, they will never make a turnpike worth a fig. Are not your present roads better than this same street about which we have been talking? Now you can cut into the woods, and escape ruts a thousand different ways, which is more than you could do if you had a ditch on each side of you, as would be the case on this turnpike, and as is the case in this said street. You would have to drag along through mud, mire, and ruts, pay your toll, and be patient. No turnpike for me, says I, until we have a better specimen of what can be done in that way, than the aforesaid street.

S. S.