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+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #61301 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/61301)
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-Project Gutenberg's The Works of Thomas Hood; Vol. 02 (of 11), by Thomas Hood
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
-almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
-re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
-with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license
-
-
-Title: The Works of Thomas Hood; Vol. 02 (of 11)
-       Comic and Serious, in Prose and Verse, With All the Original
-       Illustrations
-
-Author: Thomas Hood
-
-Editor: Tom Hood
-        Frances Freeling Broderip (née Hood)
-
-Release Date: February 2, 2020 [EBook #61301]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WORKS OF THOMAS HOOD ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Jane Robins, Reiner Ruf, and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
-file was produced from images generously made available
-by The Internet Archive)
-
-
-
-
-
-
-  ####################################################################
-
-                          Transcriber’s Notes
-
-    This e-text is based on the print version of ‘The Works of Thomas
-    Hood, Vol. II,’ published in 1882. Inconsistent and uncommon
-    spelling and hyphenation have been retained; punctuation and
-    typographical errors have been corrected. Footnotes have been moved
-    to the end of the sections in which their respective footnote
-    anchors are situated.
-
-    Small caps have been changed to uppercase letters.
-
-  ####################################################################
-
-
-
-
-                              HOOD’S OWN.
-
-
-
-
-                               THE WORKS
-
-                                  OF
-
-                             THOMAS HOOD.
-
-
-            COMIC AND SERIOUS, IN PROSE AND VERSE, WITH ALL
-                      THE ORIGINAL ILLUSTRATIONS.
-
-
-                          EDITED, WITH NOTES,
-                       BY HIS SON AND DAUGHTER.
-
-
-                               VOL. II.
-
-
-                                LONDON:
-                   WARD, LOCK, & CO., WARWICK HOUSE,
-                        SALISBURY SQUARE, E.C.
-                       NEW YORK: 10 BOND STREET.
-
-
-
-
-CONTENTS.
-
-
-                                                                    PAGE
-
-    The Boy at the Nore                                                1
-
-    The Run-Over                                                       4
-
-    Johnsoniana                                                       11
-
-    The Great Earthquake at Marylebone                                16
-
-    Ode to St. Swithin                                                20
-
-    The Apparition. A True Story                                      24
-
-    A Blind Man                                                       28
-
-    The Supper Superstition. A Pathetic Ballad                        30
-
-    A Snake-Snack                                                     33
-
-    A Storm at Hastings, and the Little Unknown                       36
-
-    Lines to a Lady on her Departure for India                        45
-
-    The Nelson                                                        48
-
-    Sonnet to a Scotch Girl Washing Linen after her Country
-      Fashion                                                         51
-
-    My Apology                                                        52
-
-    Sonnet to a Decayed Seaman                                        54
-
-    The Great Conflagration                                           55
-
-    Huggins and Duggins                                               97
-
-    Domestic Didactics. By an Old Servant                            101
-
-    Pain in a Pleasure-Boat. A Sea Eclogue                           107
-
-    A Spent Ball                                                     111
-
-    Literary and Literal                                             113
-
-    The Accident                                                     120
-
-    Sonnet to Lord Wharncliffe, on his Game Bill                     123
-
-    Literary Reminiscences. No. I.                                   124
-
-    Ode to Perry, the Inventor of the Patent Perryan Pen             132
-
-    Sketches on the Road                                             139
-
-    The Undying One                                                  144
-
-    A Gipsy Party                                                    148
-
-    Cockle _v._ Cackle                                               157
-
-    A Lawyer’s Letter                                                162
-
-    The Sweep’s Complaint                                            167
-
-    Letter from an Old Sportsman                                     173
-
-    The Sub-Marine                                                   179
-
-    The Island                                                       182
-
-    Dog-grel Verses. By a poor Blind                                 188
-
-    The Kangaroos. A Fable                                           193
-
-    Literary Reminiscences. No. II.                                  195
-
-    The Domestic Dilemma. A True Story from the German of
-      Jean Paul Nemand                                               201
-
-    Ode for the Ninth of November                                    222
-
-    Sonnet                                                           228
-
-    Rondeau. (Extracted from a Well-known Annual)                    229
-
-    London Fashions for November. Remarks                            230
-
-    Symptoms of Ossification                                         233
-
-    The Poacher. A Serious Ballad                                    234
-
-    Sketches on the Road. The Sudden Death                           237
-
-    I cannot Bear a Gun                                              252
-
-    Trimmer’s Exercise for the Use of Children                       257
-
-    Some Account of William Whiston                                  259
-
-    The Fox and the Hen. A Fable                                     263
-
-    The Comet. An Astronomical Anecdote                              267
-
-    Literary Reminiscences. No. III.                                 270
-
-    The Ocean. Considered per se                                     275
-
-    Love and Lunacy                                                  295
-
-    Those Evening Bells. “I’d be a Parody.”                          331
-
-    Lines to a Friend at Cobham                                      332
-
-    The Quakers’ Conversazione                                       333
-
-    Sketches on the Road. The Morning Call                           344
-
-    The Lament of Toby, the Learned Pig                              348
-
-    To a Bad Rider                                                   351
-
-    My Son and Heir                                                  352
-
-    Literary Reminiscences. No. IV.                                  358
-
-    The Carnaby Correspondence                                       395
-
-    A Rise at the Father of Angling                                  425
-
-    Right and Wrong. A Sketch at Sea                                 431
-
-    Patronage                                                        440
-
-    Animal Magnetism                                                 452
-
-    The Forlorn Shepherd’s Complaint. An Unpublished Poem,
-      from Sidney                                                    464
-
-    Anacreontic. By a Footman                                        468
-
-
-[Illustration: “HAVE I A WOTE FOR GRINNAGE?”]
-
-
-
-
-                              HOOD’S OWN:
-
-                    OR, LAUGHTER FROM YEAR TO YEAR.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: THE ISLE OF MAN.]
-
-
-
-
-THE BOY AT THE NORE.
-
-    “Alone I did it!--Boy!”--CORIOLANUS.
-
-
-    I SAY, little Boy at the Nore,
-      Do you come from the small Isle of Man?
-    Why, your history a mystery must be,--
-      Come tell us as much as you can,
-                        Little Boy at the Nore!
-
-    You live it seems wholly on water,
-      Which your Gambier calls living in clover;--
-    But how comes it, if that is the case,
-      You’re eternally half seas over,--
-                          Little Boy at the Nore?
-
-    While you ride--while you dance--while you float--
-      Never mind your imperfect orthography;--
-    But give us as well as you can,
-      Your watery auto-biography,
-                          Little Boy at the Nore!
-
-
-LITTLE BOY AT THE NORE LOQUITUR.
-
-    I’m the tight little Boy at the Nore,
-      In a sort of sea negus I dwells;
-    Half and half ’twixt saltwater and Port,
-      I’m reckon’d the first of the swells--
-                        I’m the Boy at the Nore!
-
-    I lives with my toes to the flounders,
-      And watches through long days and nights;
-    Yet, cruelly eager, men look--
-      To catch the first glimpse of my lights--
-                        I’m the Boy at the Nore.
-
-    I never gets cold in the head,
-      So my life on salt water is sweet,--
-    I think I owes much of my health
-      To being well used to wet feet--
-                        As the Boy at the Nore.
-
-    There’s one thing, I’m never in debt:
-      Nay!--I liquidates more than I _oughtor_[1];
-    So the man to beat Cits as goes by,
-      In keeping the head above water,
-                        Is the Boy at the Nore.
-
-    I’ve seen a good deal of distress,
-      Lots of Breakers in Ocean’s Gazette;
-    They should do as I do--rise o’er all;
-      Aye, a good floating capital get,
-                        Like the Boy at the Nore!
-
-[Illustration: THE BUOY AT THE NORE.]
-
-    I’m a’ter the sailor’s own heart,
-      And cheers him, in deep water rolling;
-    And the friend of all friends to Jack Junk,
-      Ben Backstay, Tom Pipes, and Tom Bowling,
-                        Is the Boy at the Nore!
-
-    Could I e’er but grow up, I’d be off
-      For a week to make love with my wheedles;
-    If the tight little Boy at the Nore
-      Could but catch a nice girl at the Needles,
-                      We’d have _two_ at the Nore!
-
-    They thinks little of sizes on water,
-      On big waves the tiny one skulks,--
-    While the river has Men of War on it--
-      Yes--the Thames is oppress’d with great Hulks,
-                And the Boy’s at the Nore!
-
-    But I’ve done--for the water is heaving
-      Round my body, as though it would sink it!
-    And I’ve been so long pitching and tossing,
-      That sea-sick--you’d hardly now think it--
-                        Is the Boy at the Nore!
-
-[Illustration: AS SAFE AS THE BANK.]
-
-
-  [1] A word caught from some American Trader in passing.
-
-
-
-
-THE RUN-OVER.
-
-
-“DO you see that ’ere gentleman in the buggy, with the clipt un?”
-enquired Ned Stocker, as he pointed with his whip at a chaise, some
-fifty yards in advance. “Well, for all he’s driving there so easy like,
-and comfortable, he once had a gig-shaft, and that’s a fact, driv right
-through his body!”
-
-“Rather him than me,” drawled a passenger on the box, without removing
-his cigar from his mouth.
-
-“It’s true for all that,” returned Ned, with a nod of his head equal
-to an affidavit. “The shaft run in under one armpit, right up to the
-tug, and out again at t’other besides pinning him to the wall of the
-stable--and that’s a thing such as don’t happen every day.”
-
-“Lucky it don’t,” said the smoker, between two puffs of his cigar.
-
-“It an’t likely to come often,” resumed Ned, “let alone the getting
-over it afterwards, which is the wonderfullest part of it all. To
-see him bowling along there, he don’t look like a man pinned to a
-stable-wall with the rod through him, right up to the tug--do he?”
-
-“Can’t say he does,” said the smoker.
-
-“For my part,” said Ned, “or indeed any man’s part, most people in such
-a case would have said, it’s all up with me, and good reason why, as
-I said afore, with a shaft clean through your inside, right up to the
-tug--and two inches besides into the stable wall, by way of a benefit.
-But somehow he always stuck to it--not the wall, you know--but his own
-opinion, that he should get over it--he was as firm as flints about
-that--and sure enough the event came off exactly.”
-
-“The better for him,” said the smoker.
-
-“I don’t know the rights on it,” said Ned, “for I warn’t there--but
-they do say when he was dextricated from the rod, there was a regular
-tunnel through him, and in course the greatest danger was of his
-ketching cold in the lungs from the thorough draught.”
-
-“Nothing more likely,” said the fumigator.
-
-“Howsomever,” continued Ned, “he was cured by Dr. Maiden of Stratford,
-who give him lots of physic to provoke his stomach, and make him eat
-hearty; and by taking his feeds well,--warm mashes at first, and then
-hard meat, in course of time he filled up. Nobody hardly believed it,
-though, when they see him about on his legs again--myself for one--but
-he always said he would overcome it, and he was as good as his word. If
-that an’t game, I don’t know what is.”
-
-“No more do I,” said the man with the Havannah.
-
-“I don’t know the philosophy on it,” resumed Ned, “but it’s a remark of
-mine about recovering, if a man says he will, he will,--and if he says
-he won’t, he won’t--you may book that for certain. Mayhap a good pluck
-helps the wounds in healing kindly,--but so it is, for I’ve observed
-it. You’ll see one man with hardly a scratch on his face, and says he,
-I’m done for--and he turns out quite correct--while another as is cut
-to ribbons will say--never mind,--I’m good for another round, and so he
-proves, particularly if he’s one of your small farmers. I’ll give you a
-reason why.”
-
-“Now then,” said the smoker.
-
-“My reason is,” replied Ned, “that they’re all as hard as
-nails--regular pebbles for game. They take more thrashing than their
-own corn, and that’s saying something. They’re all fortitude, and
-nothing else. Talk about punishment! nothing comes amiss to ’em, from
-butt-ends of whips and brickbats down to bludgeons loaded with lead.
-You can’t hurt their feelings. They’re jist like badgers, the more you
-welt ’em the more they grin, and when it’s over, maybe a turn-up at a
-cattle fair, or a stop by footpads, they’ll go home to their missises
-all over blood and wounds as cool and comfortable as cowcumbers,
-with holes in their heads enough to scarify a whole hospital of army
-surgeons.”
-
-“The very thing Scott has characterised,” I ventured to observe, “in
-the person of honest Dandie.”
-
-“Begging your pardon, Sir,” said Ned, “I know Farmer Scott very well,
-and he’s anything but a dandy. I was just a going to bring forward, as
-one of the trumps, a regular out-and-outer. We become friends through
-an axident. It was a darkish night, you see, and him a little lushy
-or so, making a bit of a swerve in his going towards the middle of
-the road, before you could cry Snacks! I was over him with the old
-Regulator.”
-
-“Good God!” exclaimed my left-hand companion on the roof. “Was not the
-poor fellow hurt?”
-
-“Why, not much for HIM,” answered Ned, with a very decided
-emphasis on the pronoun. “Though it would have been a quietus for nine
-men out of ten, and, as the Jews say, Take your pick of the basket. But
-he looked queer at first, and shook himself, and made a wryish face,
-like a man that hadn’t got the exact bit of the joint he preferred.”
-
-“Looked queer!” ejaculated the compassionate passenger, “he must have
-looked dreadful! I remember the Regulator, one of the oldest and
-heaviest vehicles on the road. But of course you picked him up, and got
-him inside, and----”
-
-“Quite the reverse,” answered Ned, quietly, “and far from it; he picked
-himself up, quite independent, and wouldn’t even accept a lift on the
-box. He only felt about his head a bit, and then his back, and his
-arms, and his thighs, and his lines, and after that he guv a nod, and
-says he, ‘all right,’ and away he toddled.”
-
-“I can’t credit it,” exclaimed the man on the roof.
-
-“That’s jist what his wife said,” replied Ned, with considerable
-composure, in spite of the slur on his veracity. “Let alone two black
-eyes, and his collar bone, and the broke rib, he’d a hole in his head,
-with a flint sticking in it bigger than any one you can find since
-Macadaming. But he made so light on it all, and not being very clear
-besides in his notions, I’m blest if he didn’t tell her he’d only been
-knockt down by a man with a truck!”
-
-“Not a bad story,” said the smoker on the box.
-
-I confess I made internally a parallel remark. Naturally robust as my
-faith is, I could not, as Hamlet says, let “Belief lay hold of me,”
-with the coachman’s narrative in his hand, like a copy of a writ. I am
-no stranger, indeed, to the peculiar hardihood of our native yeomanry;
-but Ned, in his zeal for their credit, had certainly overdrawn the
-truth. As to his doctrine of presentiments, it had never been one of
-the subjects of my speculations; but on a superficial view, it appeared
-to me improbable that life or death, in cases of casualty, could be
-predetermined with such certainty as he had averred; and particularly
-as I happen to know a certain lady, who has been accepting the Bills
-of Mortality at two months’ date, for many years past--but has never
-honoured them when due. It was fated, however, that honest Ned was to
-be confirmed in his theories and corroborated in his facts.
-
-We had scarcely trotted half a mile in meditative silence, when we
-overtook a sturdy pedestrian, who was pacing the breadth as well as
-the length of the road, rather more like a land surveyor than a mere
-traveller. He evidently belonged to the agricultural class, which
-Ned had distinguished by the title of Small Farmers. Like Scott’s
-Liddesdale yeoman, he wore a shaggy dreadnought, below which you saw
-two well-fatted calves, penned in a pair of huge top-boots--the tops
-and the boots being of such different shades of brown as you may
-observe in two arable fields of various soil, a rich loam and a clay.
-In his hand he carried a formidable knotted club-stick, and a member of
-the Heralds’ College would have set him down at once a tenant of the
-Earl of Leicester, he looked so like a bear with a ragged staff.
-
-I observed that Ned seemed anxious. One of his leaders was a bolter,
-and his wheelers were far from steady; and the man ahead walked not
-quite so straightly as if he had been ploughing a furrow. We were
-almost upon him--Ned gave a sharp halloo--the man looked back, and
-wavered. A minute decided the matter. He escaped Scylla, but Charybdis
-yawned for him--in plain prose, he cleared the Rocket, but contrived to
-get under the broad wheel of a Warwickshire waggon, which was passing
-in the opposite direction. There was still a chance,--even a fly-waggon
-may be stopped without much notice--but the waggoner was inside,
-sweethearting with three maids that were going to Coventry. Every voice
-cried out Woh! but the right one. The horses plodded on--the wheels
-rumbled--the bells jingled--we all thought a knell.
-
-Ned instantly pulled up, with his team upon their haunches--we all
-alighted, and in a moment the sixteen the Rocket was licensed to
-carry were at the fatal spot. In the midst of the circle lay, what we
-considered a bundle of last linen just come home from the mangle.
-
-“That’s a dead un,” said the smoker, throwing away as he spoke the
-butt-end of a cigar.
-
-“Poor wretch,” exclaimed the humane man from the roof, “what a shocking
-spectacle!”
-
-“It’s over his chest,” said I.
-
-“It’s all over,” said the passenger on my right.
-
-“And a happy release,” said a lady on my left; “he must have been a
-cripple for life.”
-
-“He can’t have a whole rib in his body,” said a man from the dicky.
-
-“Hall to hattums,” said a gentleman from the inside.
-
-“The worst I ever see, and I’ve had the good luck to see many,” said
-the guard.
-
-“No, he can’t get over that,” said Ned himself.
-
-To our astonishment, however, the human mass still breathed. After
-a long sigh it opened one eye--the right--then the other--the mouth
-gasped--the tongue moved--and at last even spoke, though in disjointed
-syllables.
-
-“We’re nigh--hand--an’t we--the nine--milestun?”
-
-“Yes--yes--close to it,” answered a dozen voices, and one in its
-bewilderment asked, “Do you live there?” but was set right by the
-sufferer himself.
-
-“No--a mile fudder.”
-
-“Where is there a surgeon?” asked the humane man, “I will ride off for
-him on one of the leaders.”
-
-“Better not,” said the phlegmatic smoker, who had lighted a fresh cigar
-with some German tinder and a lucifer--“not used to saddle--may want a
-surgeon yourself.”
-
-“Is there never a doctor among the company?” inquired the guard.
-
-“I am a medical man,” replied a squat vulgar-looking personage. “I sell
-Morison’s pills--but I haven’t any about me.”
-
-“Glad of it,” said the smoker, casting a long puff in the other’s face.
-
-[Illustration: “THIS IS THE TIME WHEN CHURCH-YARDS YAWN.”]
-
-“Poor wretch!” sighed the compassionate man. “He is beyond human aid.
-Heaven help the widow and the fatherless--he looks like a family man!”
-
-“I were not to blaame,” said the waggoner. “The woife and childerin
-can’t coom upon I.”
-
-“Does anyone know who he is?” inquired the coachman, but there was no
-answer.
-
-“Maybe the gemman has a card or summut,” said the gentleman from the
-inside.
-
-“Is there no house near?” inquired the lady.
-
-“For to get a shutter off on,” added the gentleman.
-
-“Ought we not to procure a postchaise,” inquired a gentleman’s footman.
-
-“Or a shell, in case,” suggested the man from the dicky.
-
-“Shell be hanged!” said the sufferer, in a tone that made us all jump
-a yard backward. “Stick me up agin the milestun--there, easy does
-it--that’s comfortable--and now tell me, and no nonsense,--be I flat?”
-
-“A little pancakey,” said the man with the cigar.
-
-“I say,” repeated the sufferer, with some earnestness, “be I
-flat--quite flat--as flat like as a sheet of paper? Yes or no?”
-
-“No, no, no,” burst from sixteen voices at once, and the assurance
-seemed to take as great a load off his mind as had lately passed
-over his body. By an effort he contrived to get up and sit upon the
-milestone, from which he waved us a good-bye, accompanied by the
-following words:--
-
-“Gentlefolk, my best thanks and my sarvice to you, and a pleasant
-journey. Don’t consarn yourselves about me, for there’s nothing
-dangerous. I shall do well, I know I shall; and I’ll tell you what I’ll
-go upon--if I bean’t flat I shall get round.”
-
-
-
-
-JOHNSONIANA.
-
-    “None despise puns but those who cannot make them.”--SWIFT.
-
-
-_To the Editor of the Comic Annual._
-
-    SIR,
-
-    As I am but an occasional reader in the temporary indulgence of
-    intellectual relaxation, I have but recently become cognizant
-    of the metropolitan publication of Mr. Murray’s Mr. Croker’s Mr.
-    Boswell’s Dr. Johnson: a circumstance the more to be deprecated,
-    for if I had been simultaneously aware of that amalgamation of
-    miscellaneous memoranda I could have contributed a personal
-    quota of characteristic colloquial anecdotes to the biographical
-    reminiscences of the multitudinous lexicographer, which although
-    founded on the basis of indubitable veracity, has never transpired
-    among the multifarious effusions of that stupendous complication
-    of mechanical ingenuity, which, according to the technicalities
-    in usage in our modern nomenclature, has obtained the universal
-    cognomen of the press. Expediency imperiously dictates that the
-    nominal identity of the hereditary kinsman, from whom I derive my
-    authoritative responsibility, shall be inviolable and umbrageously
-    obscured; but in future variorum editions his voluntary addenda
-    to the already inestimable concatenation of circumstantial
-    particularisation might typographically be discriminated from
-    the literary accumulations of the indefatigable Boswell and the
-    vivacious Piozzi, by the significant classification of Boz, Poz,
-    and Coz.
-
-    In posthumously eliciting and philosophically elucidating the
-    phenomena of defunct luminaries, whether in reference to corporeal,
-    physiognomical, or metaphysical attributes, justice demands the
-    strictest scrupulosity, in order that the heterogeneous may not
-    preponderate over the homogeneous in the critical analysis.
-    Metaphorically speaking, I am rationally convinced that the
-    operative point I am about to develop will remove a pertinacious
-    film from the eye of the biographer of the memorable Dr. Johnson;
-    and especially with reference to that reiterated verbal aphorism
-    so preposterously ascribed to his conversational inculcation,
-    namely, that “he who would make a pun would pick a pocket;”
-    however irrelevant such a doctrinarian maxim to the irrefragable
-    fact, that in that colossal monument of etymological erudition
-    erected by the stupendous Doctor himself (of course implying his
-    inestimable Dictionary), the paramount gist, scope, and tendency
-    of his laborious researches was obviously to give as many meanings
-    as possible to one word. In order, however, to place hypothesis
-    on the immutable foundation of fact, I will, with your periodical
-    permission, adduce a few Johnsonian repartees from my cousin’s
-    anecdotical memorabilia, which will perspicuously evolve the
-    synthetical conclusion, that the inimitable author of Rasselas
-    did not dogmatically predicate such an aggravated degree of moral
-    turpitude in the perpetration of a double entendre.
-
-    Apologistically requesting indulgence for the epistolary laxity of
-    an unpremeditated effusion,
-
-    I remain, Sir,
-    Your very humble obedient servant,
-    SEPTIMUS REARDON.
-
-    _Lichfield, October 1, 1833._
-
-“Do you really believe, Dr. Johnson,” said a Lichfield lady, “in the
-dead walking after death?”--“Madam,” said Johnson, “I have no doubt
-on the subject; I have heard the Dead March in Saul.” “You really
-believe then, Doctor, in ghosts?”--“Madam,” said Johnson, “I think
-_appearances_ are in their favour.”
-
-The Doctor was notoriously very superstitious. The same lady once
-asked him--“if he ever felt any presentiment at a winding-sheet in the
-candle.”--“Madam,” said Johnson, “if a _mould_ candle, it doubtless
-indicates death, and that somebody will go out like a _snuff_; but
-whether at Hampton _Wick_ or in _Greece_, must depend upon the
-_graves_.”
-
-Dr. Johnson was not comfortable in the Hebrides. “Pray, Doctor, how did
-you sleep?” inquired a benevolent Scotch hostess, who was so extremely
-hospitable that some hundreds always occupied the same bed.--“Madam,”
-said Johnson, “I had not a wink the whole night long; sleep seemed to
-_flee_ from my eyelids, and to _bug_ from all the rest of my body.”
-
-The Doctor and Boswell once lost themselves in the Isle of Muck, and
-the latter said they must “_spier_ their way at the first body they
-met.” “Sir,” said Dr. Johnson, “you’re a scoundrel: you may spear
-anybody you like, but I am not going to ‘run a-Muck and tilt at all I
-meet.’”
-
-[Illustration: AN ILLUMINATED MS.]
-
-“What do you think of whiskey, Dr. Johnson?” hiccupped Boswell after
-emptying a sixth tumbler of toddy. “Sir,” said the Doctor, “it
-penetrates my very soul like ‘the _small-still_ voice of conscience,’
-and doubtless the worm of the still is the ‘worm that never dies.’”
-Boswell afterwards inquired the Doctor’s opinion on illicit
-distillation, and how the great moralist would act in an affray between
-the smugglers and the Excise. “If I went by the _letter_ of the law, I
-should assist the Customs, but according to the _spirit_ I should stand
-by the contrabands.”
-
-The Doctor was always very satirical on the want of timber in the
-North. “Sir,” he said to the young Laird of Icombally, who was going
-to join his regiment, “may Providence preserve you in battle, and
-especially your nether limbs. You may grow a walking-stick here, but
-you must import a wooden leg.” At Dunsinane the old prejudice broke
-out. “Sir,” said he to Boswell, “Macbeth was an idiot; he ought to have
-known that every wood in Scotland might be carried in a man’s hand. The
-Scotch, Sir, are like the frogs in the fable: if they had a Log they
-would make a King of it.”
-
-Boswell one day expatiated at some length on the moral and religious
-character of his countrymen, and remarked triumphantly that there was
-a Cathedral at Kirkwall, and the remains of a Bishop’s Palace. “Sir,”
-said Johnson, “it must have been the poorest of Sees: take your _Rum_
-and _Egg_ and _Mull_ altogether, and they won’t provide for a _Bishop_.”
-
-East India company is the worst of all company. A Lady fresh from
-Calcutta once endeavoured to curry Johnson’s favour by talking of
-nothing but howdahs, doolies, and bungalows, till the Doctor took, as
-usual, to _tiffin_. “Madam,” said he, in a tone that would have scared
-a tiger out of a jungle, “India’s very well for a rubber or for a
-bandana, or for a cake of ink, but what with its Bhurtpore, Pahlumpore,
-Barrackpore, Hyderapore, Singapore, and Nagpore, its Hyderabad,
-Astrabad, Bundlebad, Sindbad, and Guzzaratbadbad, it’s a _poor_ and
-_bad_ country altogether.”
-
-Master M., after plaguing Miss Seward and Dr. Darwin, and a large tea
-party at Lichfield, said to his mother that he would be good if she
-would give him an apple. “My dear child,” said the parent, feeling
-herself in the presence of a great moralist, “you ought not to be good
-on any consideration of gain, for ‘virtue is its own reward.’ You ought
-to be good disinterestedly, and without thinking what you are to get
-for it.” “Madam,” said Dr. Johnson, “you are a fool; would you have the
-boy _good for nothing_?”
-
-The same lady once consulted the Doctor on the degree of turpitude to
-be attached to her son’s robbing an orchard. “Madam,” said Johnson,
-“it all depends upon the weight of the boy. I remember my schoolfellow
-Davy Garrick, who was always a little fellow, robbing a dozen of
-orchards with impunity, but the very first time I climbed up an apple
-tree, for I was always a heavy boy, the bough broke with me, and it was
-called a judgment. I suppose that’s why Justice is represented with a
-pair of scales.”
-
-Caleb Whitefoord, the famous punster, once inquired seriously of
-Dr. Johnson whether he really considered that a man ought to be
-transported, like Barrington, the pickpocket, for being guilty of a
-double meaning. “Sir,” said Johnson, “if a man means well, the more he
-means the better.”
-
-
-
-
-THE GREAT EARTHQUAKE AT MARY-LE-BONE.
-
-    “Do you never deviate?”--JOHN BULL.
-
-
-IT was on the evening of the 7th of November, 18--, that I went by
-invitation to sup with my friend P., at his house in Highstreet,
-Mary-le-bone. The only other person present was a Portuguese, by
-name Senor Mendez, P.’s mercantile agent at Lisbon, a person of
-remarkably retentive memory, and most wonderful power of description.
-The conversation somehow turned upon the memorable great earthquake
-at Lisbon, in the year of our Lord----, and Senor Mendez, who was
-residing at that time in the Portuguese capital, gave us a very
-lively picture--if lively it may be called--of the horrors of that
-awful convulsion of nature. The picture was dreadful; the Senor’s own
-house, a substantial stone mansion, was rent from attic to cellar: and
-the steeple of his parish church left impending over it at an angle
-surpassing that of the famous Leaning Tower of Bologna!
-
-The Portuguese had a wonderfully expressive countenance, with a
-style of narration indescribably vivid; and as I listened with the
-most intense interest, every dismal circumstance of the calamity
-became awfully distinct to my apprehension. I could hear the dreary
-ringing of the bells, self-tolled from the rocking of the churches;
-the swaying to and fro of the steeples themselves, and the unnatural
-heavings and swellings of the Tagus, were vividly before me. As the
-agitations increased, the voice of the Senor became awfully tremulous,
-and his seat seemed literally to rock under him. I seemed palsied, and
-could see from P.’s looks that he was similarly affected. To conceal
-his disorder, he kept swallowing large gulps from his rummer, and I
-followed his example.
-
-[Illustration: “DO THY SPIRITING GENTLY.”]
-
-This was only the first shock;--the second soon followed, and, to
-use a popular expression, it made us both “shake in our shoes.”
-Terrific, however, as it was, the third was more tremendous; the order
-of nature seemed reversed; the ships in the Tagus sank to the bottom,
-and their ponderous anchors rose to the surface; volcanic fire burst
-forth from the water, and water from dry ground; the air, no longer
-elastic, seemed to become a stupendous solid; swaying to and fro, and
-irresistibly battering down the fabrics of ages; hollow rumblings
-and moanings as from the very centre of the world, gave warning of
-deafening explosions, which soon followed, and seemed to shake the
-very stars out of the sky. All this time the powerful features of
-the Senor kept working, in frightful imitation of the convulsion he
-was describing, and the effect was horrible; I saw P. quiver like an
-aspen--there seemed no such thing as terra firma. Our chairs rocked
-under us; the floor tossed and heaved; the candles wavered, the windows
-clattered, and the teaspoons rang again, as our tumblers vibrated in
-our hands.
-
-Senor Mendez at length concluded his narrative, and shortly took leave;
-I staid but a few minutes after him, just to make a remark on the
-appalling character of the story, and then departed myself,--little
-thinking, that any part of the late description was to be so speedily
-realised by my own experience!
-
-The hour being late, and the servants in bed, P. himself accompanied me
-to the door. I ought to remark here that the day had been uncommonly
-serene--not a breath stirring, as was noticed on the morning of the
-great catastrophe at Lisbon; however, P. had barely closed the door,
-when a sudden and violent motion of the earth threw me from the step
-on which I was standing, to the middle of the pavement; I had got
-partly up when a second shock, as smart as the first, threw me again
-on the ground. With some difficulty I recovered my legs a second
-time, the earth in the mean time heaving about under me like the deck
-of a ship at sea. The street lamps, too, seemed violently agitated,
-and the houses nodded over me as if they would fall every instant.
-I attempted to run, but it was impossible; I could barely keep on
-my feet. At one step I was dashed forcibly against the wall; at the
-next I was thrown into the road; as the motion became more violent
-I clung to a lamp-post, but it swayed with me like a rush. A great
-mist came suddenly on, but I could perceive people hurrying about,
-all staggering like drunken men; some of them addressing me, but so
-confusedly as to be quite unintelligible; one--a lady--passed close to
-me in evident alarm: seizing her hand, I besought her to fly with me
-from the falling houses, into the open fields; what answer she made I
-know not, for at that instant, a fresh shock threw me on my face with
-such violence as to render me quite insensible. Providentially, in this
-state I attracted the notice of some of the night police, who humanely
-deposited me, for safety, in St. Anne’s watch-house, till the following
-morning; when being sufficiently recovered to give a collected account
-of that eventful evening, the ingenious Mr. W., of the Morning Herald,
-was so much interested by my narrative that he kindly did me the favour
-of drawing it up for publication in the following form.
-
-[Illustration: “WELL! I NEVER COULD KEEP MY LEGS!”]
-
-
-_Police Intelligence.--Bow Street._
-
-“This morning a stout country gentleman, in a new suit of mud,
-evidently town made, was charged with having walked _Waverly_
-over-night till he got his _Kennelworth_ in a gutter in Mary-le-bone.
-The Jack-o’-lanthorn who picked him up could make nothing out of him,
-but that he was some sort of a _Quaker_, and declared that the whole
-country was in a _shocking_ state. He acknowledged having taken rather
-too much _Lisbon_; but according to Mr. Daly, he sniffed of whiskey ‘as
-strong as natur.’ The defendant attempted with a _sotto voce_ (Anglice,
-a tipsy voice), to make some excuse, but was stopped and fined in
-the usual sum, by Sir Richard. He found his way out of the office,
-muttering that he thought it very hard to have to pay _five hogs_ for
-being only as drunk as _one_.”
-
-
-
-
-ODE TO ST. SWITHIN.
-
-“The rain it raineth every day.”
-
-
-    THE Dawn is overcast, the morning low’rs,
-    On ev’ry window-frame hang beaded damps
-    Like rows of small illumination lamps,
-    To celebrate the Jubilee of Show’rs!
-    A constant sprinkle patters from all leaves,
-    The very Dryads are not dry, but soppers,
-      And from the Houses’ eaves
-      Tumble eaves-droppers.
-
-    The hundred clerks that live along the street,
-    Bondsmen to mercantile and City schemers,
-    With squashing, sloshing, and galoching feet,
-    Go paddling, paddling, through the wet, like steamers,
-    Each hurrying to earn the daily stipend--
-    Umbrellas pass of every shade of green,
-    And now and then a crimson one is seen,
-      Like an Umbrella _ripen’d_.
-
-      Over the way a waggon
-    Stand with six smoking horses, shrinking, blinking,
-      While in the George and Dragon
-    The man is keeping himself dry--and drinking!
-    The Butcher’s boy skulks underneath his tray,
-      Hats shine--shoes don’t--and down droop collars,
-    And one blue Parasol cries all the way
-      To school, in company with four small scholars!
-
-[Illustration: PRIDE AND HUMILITY.]
-
-    Unhappy is the man to-day who rides,
-    Making his journey sloppier, not shorter;
-    Aye, there they go, a dozen of outsides,
-    Performing on “a Stage with real water!”
-    A dripping Pauper crawls along the way,
-      The only real willing out-of-doorer
-      And says, or seems to say,
-    “Well, I am poor enough--but here’s a _pourer!_”
-
-    The scene in water colours thus I paint,
-    Is your own Festival, you Sloppy Saint!
-    Mother of all the Family of Rainers!
-      Saint of the Soakers!
-      Making all people croakers,
-    Like frogs in swampy marshes, and complainers!
-    And why you mizzle forty days together,
-    Giving the earth your water-soup to sup,
-    I marvel--Why such wet, mysterious weather?
-      I wish you’d _clear it up_!
-
-      Why cast such cruel dampers
-    On pretty Pic Nics, and against all wishes
-    Set the cold ducks a-swimming in the hampers,
-    And volunteer, unask’d, to wash the dishes?
-    Why drive the Nymphs from the selected spot,
-      To cling like lady-birds around a tree--
-      Why spoil a Gipsy party at their tea,
-    By throwing your cold water upon hot?
-
-    Cannot a rural maiden, or a man,
-    Seek Hornsey-Wood by invitation, sipping
-      Their green with Pan,
-    But souse you come, and show their Pan all dripping!
-    Why upon snow-white table-cloths and sheets,
-    That do not wait, or want a second washing,
-        Come squashing?
-    Why task yourself to lay the dust in streets,
-    As if there were no Water-Cart contractors,
-    No pot-boys spilling beer, no shop-boys ruddy
-      Spooning out puddles muddy,
-    Milkmaids, and other slopping benefactors!
-
-    A Queen you are, raining in your own right,
-    Yet oh! how little flatter’d by report!
-
-      Even by those that seek the Court,
-    Pelted with every term of spleen and spite.
-    Folks rail and swear at you in every place;
-    They say you are a creature of no bowel;
-    They say you’re always washing Nature’s face,
-      And that you then supply her,
-          With nothing drier,
-    Than some old wringing cloud by way of towel!
-    The whole town wants you duck’d, just as you duck it,
-    They wish you on your own mud porridge supper’d,
-    They hope that you may kick your own big bucket,
-    Or in your water-butt go sous! heels up’ard!
-    They are, in short, so weary of your drizzle,
-    They’d spill the water in your veins to stop it--
-    Be warn’d! You are too partial to a mizzle--
-          Pray _drop it_!
-
-[Illustration: “IT NEVER RAINS BUT IT POURS.”]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: A FIGURE OF SPEECH:--A BROAD SCOTCHMAN.]
-
-
-
-
-THE APPARITION.
-
-A TRUE STORY.
-
-
-“To keep without a reef in a gale of wind like that--Jock was the only
-boatman on the Firth of Tay to do it!”--
-
-“He had sail enough to blow him over Dundee Law.”--
-
-“She’s emptied her ballast and come up again,--with her sails all
-standing--every sheet was belayed with a double turn.”
-
-I give the sense rather than the sound of the foregoing speeches, for
-the speakers were all Dundee ferry-boatmen, and broad Scotchmen, using
-the extra-wide dialect of Angus-shire and Fife.
-
-At the other end of the low-roofed room, under a coarse white sheet,
-sprinkled with sprigs of rue and rosemary, dimly lighted by a small
-candle at the head, and another at the feet, lay the object of
-their comments--a corpse of startling magnitude. In life, poor Jock
-was of unusual stature, but stretching a little, perhaps, as is
-usual in death, and advantaged by the narrow limits of the room, the
-dimensions seemed absolutely supernatural. During the warfare of the
-Allies against Napoleon, Jock, a fellow of some native humour, had
-distinguished himself by singing about the streets of Dundee, ballads,
-I believe his own, against old Boney. The nick-name of Ballad-Jock was
-not his only reward; the loyal burgesses subscribed among themselves,
-and made him that fatal gift, a ferry-boat, the management of which
-we have just heard so seriously reviewed. The catastrophe took place
-one stormy Sunday, a furious gale blowing against the tide, down
-the river--and the Tay is anything but what the Irish call “weak
-tay,” at such seasons. In fact, the devoted Nelson, with all sails
-set,--fair-weather fashion,--caught aback in a sudden gust,--after
-a convulsive whirl capsized, and went down in forty fathoms, taking
-with her two-and-twenty persons, the greater part of whom were on
-their way to hear the celebrated Dr. Chalmers,--even at that time
-highly popular,--though preaching in a small church at some obscure
-village, I forget the name, in Fife. After all the rest had sunk in
-the waters, the huge figure of Jock was observed clinging to an oar,
-barely afloat,--when some sufferer probably catching hold of his feet,
-he suddenly disappeared, still grasping the oar, which afterwards
-springing upright into the air, as it rose again to the surface, showed
-the fearful depth to which it had been carried. The body of Jock was
-the last found; about the fifth day, it was strangely enough deposited
-by the tide almost at the threshold of his own dwelling, at the Craig,
-a small pier or jetty, frequented by the ferry-boats. It had been
-hastily caught up, and in its clothes laid out in the manner just
-described, lying as it were in state, and the public, myself one, being
-freely admitted, as far as the room would hold, it was crowded by
-fish-wives, mariners, and other shore-haunters, except a few feet next
-the corpse, which a natural awe towards the dead kept always vacant.
-The narrow death’s door was crammed with eager listening and looking
-heads, and by the buzzing without, there was a large surplus crowd in
-waiting before the dwelling for their turn to enter it.
-
-On a sudden, at a startling exclamation from one of those nearest
-the bed, all eyes were directed towards that quarter. One of the
-candles was guttering and sputtering near the socket,--the other just
-twinkling out, and sending up a stream of rank smoke,--but by the
-light, dim as it was, a slight motion of the sheet was perceptible
-just at that part where the hand of the dead mariner might be supposed
-to be lying at his side! A scream and shout of horror burst from all
-within, echoed, though ignorant of the cause, by another from the
-crowd without. A general rush was made towards the door, but egress
-was impossible. Nevertheless horror and dread squeezed up the company
-in the room to half their former compass: and left a far wider blank
-between the living and the dead! I confess at first I mistrusted my
-sight; it seemed that some twitching of the nerves of the eye, or
-the flickering of the shadows, thrown by the unsteady flame of the
-candle, might have caused some optical delusion; but after several
-minutes of sepulchral silence and watching, the motion became more
-awfully manifest, now proceeding slowly upwards, as if the hand of the
-deceased, still beneath the sheet, was struggling up feebly towards
-his head. It is possible to conceive, but not to describe, the popular
-consternation,--the shrieks of women,--the shouts of men--the struggles
-to gain the only outlet, choked up and rendered impassable by the very
-efforts of desperation and fear!--Clinging to each other, and with
-ghastly faces that _dared_ not turn from the object of dread, the
-whole assembly backed with united force against the opposite wall,
-with a convulsive energy that threatened to force out the very side
-of the dwelling--when, startled before by silent motion, but now by
-sound,--with a smart rattle something fell from the bed to the floor,
-and disentangling itself from the death drapery, displayed--a large
-pound Crab!--The creature, with some design, perhaps sinister, had
-been secreted in the ample clothes of the drowned seaman, but even
-the comparative insignificance of this apparition gave but little
-alleviation to the superstitious horrors of the spectators, who
-appeared to believe firmly, that it was only the Evil One himself,
-transfigured.--Wherever the crab straddled sidelong, infirm beldame
-and sturdy boatman equally shrank and retreated before it,--aye, even
-as it changed place, to crowding closely round the corpse itself,
-rather than endure its diabolical contact. The crowd outside, warned
-by cries from within, of the presence of Mahound, had by this time
-retired to a respectful distance, and the crab, doing what herculean
-sinews had failed to effect, cleared itself a free passage through
-the door in a twinkling, and with natural instinct began crawling as
-fast as he could clapperclaw, down the little jetty before mentioned
-that led into his native sea. The Satanic Spirit, however disguised,
-seemed everywhere distinctly recognised. Many at the lower end of the
-Craig lept into their craft; one or two even into the water, whilst
-others crept as close to the verge of the pier as they could, leaving
-a thoroughfare--wide as “the broad path of honour,”--to the Infernal
-Cancer. To do him justice, he straddled along with a very unaffected
-unconsciousness of his own evil importance. He seemed to have no aim
-higher than salt water and sand, and had accomplished half the distance
-towards them, when a little decrepit poor old sea-roamer, generally
-known as “Creel Katie,” made a dexterous snatch at a hind claw, and
-before the Crab-Devil was aware, deposited him in her patchwork
-apron, with an “Hech, Sirs, what for are ye gaun to let gang siccan a
-braw partane?” In vain a hundred voices shouted out, “Let him bide,
-Katie,--he’s no cannie;” fish or fiend, the resolute old dame kept a
-fast clutch of her prize, promising him, moreover, a comfortable simmer
-in the mickle pat, for the benefit of herself and that “puir silly body
-the gudeman:” and she kept her word. Before night the poor Devil was
-dressed in his shell, to the infinite horror of all her neighbours.
-Some even said that a black figure, with horns, and wings, and hoofs,
-and forky tail, in fact old Clooty himself, had been seen to fly out
-of the chimney. Others said that unwholesome and unearthly smells, as
-of pitch and brimstone, had reeked forth from the abominable thing,
-through door and window. Creel Kate, however, persisted, aye, even to
-her dying day and on her deathbed, that the Crab was as sweet a Crab
-as ever was supped on; and that it recovered her old husband out of a
-very poor low way,--adding, “And that was a thing, ye ken, the Deil a
-Deil in the Dub of Darkness wad hae dune for siccan a gude man, and
-kirk-going Christian body, as my ain douce Davie.”
-
-
-
-
-A BLIND MAN
-
-
-Is a Blackamoor turned outside in. His skin is fair, but his lining is
-utter dark; his eyes are like shotten stars,--mere jellies; or like
-mock-painted windows since the tax upon daylight: what his mind’s eye
-can be, is yet a mystery with the learned, or if he hath a mental
-capacity at all--for, “out of sight is out of mind.”
-
-Wherever he stands, he is antipodean, with his midnight to your noon.
-The brightest sunshine serves only to make him the gloomier object;
-like a dark house at a general illumination. When he stirs, it is like
-a Venetian blind, being pulled up and down by a string; he is a human
-kettle tied to a dog’s tail, and with much of the same tin twang in
-his tone. With botanists he is a species of solanum, or night-shade,
-whereof the berries are in his eyes;--amongst painters he is only
-contemned, for his ignorance of clare-obscure; but by musicians
-marvelled at for playing, ante-sight, on an invisible fiddle. He stands
-against a wall with his two blank orbs, like a figure in high relief,
-howbeit but seldom relieved; and though he is fond of getting pence,
-yet he is confessedly blind to his own interest.
-
-[Illustration: A MISGUIDED MAN.]
-
-In his religion he is a materialist, putting no faith but in things
-palpable. In politics, no visionary; in his learning a smatterer, his
-knowledge of all being superficial; in his age a child, being yet in
-leading-strings; in his life immortal, for death may lengthen his
-night, but can put no end to his days; in his courage, heroic, for
-he winks at no danger; in his pretensions humble, confessing that he
-is nothing, even in his own eyes; in his malady hopeless, for eyes
-of _looking_-glass would not help him to see. To conclude--he is
-pitied by the rich, relieved by the poor, oppressed by the beadle, and
-horse-whipped by the fox-hunter, for not giving the view holloa!
-
-[Illustration: “BE TO THEIR FAULTS A LITTLE BLIND.”]
-
-
-
-
-THE SUPPER SUPERSTITION.
-
-A PATHETIC BALLAD.
-
-“Oh flesh, flesh how art thou fishified.”--MERCUTIO.
-
-
-I.
-
-    ’Twas twelve o’clock by Chelsea chimes,
-      When all in hungry trim,
-    Good Mister Jupp sat down to sup
-      With wife, and Kate, and Jim.
-
-
-II.
-
-    Said he, “Upon this dainty cod
-      How bravely I shall sup,”--
-    When, whiter than the table-cloth,
-      A GHOST came rising up!
-
-
-III.
-
-    “O, father dear, O, mother dear,
-      Dear Kate, and brother Jim,--
-    You know when some one went to sea,--
-      Don’t cry--but I am him!
-
-
-IV.
-
-    “You hope some day with fond embrace
-      To greet your absent Jack,
-    But oh, I am come here to say
-      I’m never coming back!
-
-
-V.
-
-    “From Alexandria we set sail,
-      With corn, and oil, and figs,
-    But steering ‘too much Sow,’ we struck
-      Upon the Sow and Pigs!
-
-
-VI.
-
-    “The Ship we pump’d till we could see
-      Old England from the tops;
-    When down she went with all our hands,
-      Right in the Channel’s Chops.
-
-
-VII.
-
-    “Just give a look in Norey’s chart,
-      The very place it tells;
-    I think it says twelve fathom deep,
-      Clay bottom, mixed with shells.
-
-
-VIII.
-
-    “Well, there we are till ‘hands aloft,’
-      We have at last a call;
-    The pug I had for brother Jim,
-      Kate’s parrot too, and all.
-
-
-IX.
-
-    “But oh, my spirit cannot rest,
-      In Davy Jones’s sod,
-    Till I’ve appear’d to you and said,--
-      Don’t sup on that ’ere Cod!
-
-
-X.
-
-    “You live on land, and little think
-      What passes in the sea;
-    Last Sunday week, at 2 P.M.,
-      That cod was picking me!
-
-
-XI.
-
-    “Those oysters too, that look so plump,
-      And seem so nicely done,
-    They put my corpse in many shells,
-      Instead of only one.
-
-
-XII.
-
-    “O, do not eat those oysters then,
-      And do not touch the shrimps;
-    When I was in my briny grave,
-      They suck’d my blood like imps!
-
-
-XIII.
-
-    “Don’t eat what brutes would never eat,
-      The brutes I used to pat,
-    They’ll know the smell they used to smell;
-      Just try the dog and cat!”
-
-
-XIV.
-
-    The Spirit fled--they wept his fate,
-      And cried, Alack, alack!
-    At last up started brother Jim.
-      “Let’s try if Jack was Jack!”
-
-
-XV.
-
-    They call’d the Dog, they call’d the Cat,
-      And little Kitten too,
-    And down they put the Cod and sauce,
-      To see what brutes would do.
-
-
-XVI.
-
-    Old Tray lick’d all the oysters up,
-      Puss never stood at crimps,
-    But munch’d the Cod--and little Kit
-      Quite feasted on the shrimps!
-
-
-XVII.
-
-    The thing was odd, and minus Cod
-      And sauce, they stood like posts;
-    O, prudent folks, for fear of hoax,
-      Put no belief in Ghosts!
-
-[Illustration: FRIENDS AWAITING A SAILOR’S RETURN.]
-
-
-
-
-A SNAKE-SNACK.
-
-“Twine ye, twine ye.”--SIR W. SCOTT.
-
-
-IT was my good fortune once, at Charing Cross, to witness the feeding
-of the Boa Constrictor; rather a rare occurrence, and difficult of
-observation, the reptile not being remarkable for the regularity of
-its dinner-hour; and a very considerable interval intervenes, as the
-world knows, between Gorge the First, and Gorge the Second, Gorge the
-Third, and Gorge the Fourth. I was not in time to see the serpent’s
-first dart at the prey; she had already twisted herself round her
-victim,--a living White Rabbit--who with a large dark eye gazed
-piteously through one of the folds, and looked most eloquently that
-line in Hamlet--
-
-    “O could I shuffle off this mortal _coil_!”
-
-[Illustration: THE BOA AFTER A MEAL.]
-
-The Snake evidently only embraced him in a kill-him-when-I-want-him
-manner, just firmly enough to prevent an escape--but her lips were
-glued on his, in a close “Judas’ kiss.” So long a time elapsed, in
-this position, both as marble-still as poor old Laocoon with his
-leaches on, that I really began to doubt the tale of the Boa’s ability
-in swallowing; and to associate the hoax before me, with that of the
-Bottle Conjuror. The head of the snake, in fact, might have gone
-without difficulty into a wine-glass, and the throat, down which the
-rabbit was to proceed whole, seemed not at all thicker than my thumb.
-In short, I thought the reported _cram_ was nothing but _stuff_,
-and the only other visitor declared himself of my opinion: “If that
-’ere little wiper swallows up the rabbit, I’ll bolt um both!” and he
-seemed capable of the feat. He looked like a personification of what
-Political Economists call the Public Consumer; or, Geoffrey Crayon’s
-Stout Gentleman, seen through Carpenter’s Solar Microscope; a genuine
-Edax Rerum; one of your devourers of legs of mutton and trimmings, for
-wagers: the delight of eating-houses, and the dread of ordinaries. The
-contrast was whimsical, between his mountain of mummy, and the slim
-Macaroni figure of the Snake, the reputed Glutton. However, the Boa
-began at last to prepare for the meal, by lubricating the muzzle of the
-Rabbit with her slimy tongue, and then commenced in earnest,
-
-    As far as in her lay to take him in,
-    A stranger dying with so fair a skin.
-
-The process was tedious--“one swallow makes a summer”--but it gradually
-became apparent, from the fate of the head, that the whole body might
-eventually be “lost in the Serpentine.” The Reptile, indeed, made ready
-for the rest of the interment by an operation rather horrible. On a
-sudden, the living cable was observed, as a sailor would say, to haul
-in her slack, and with a squeeze evincing tremendous muscular power,
-she reduced the whole body into a compass that would follow the head
-with perfect ease. It was like a regular smash in business:--the poor
-rabbit was completely broken--and the wily winder-up of his affairs
-recommenced paying herself in full. It was a sorry sight and sickening.
-As for the Stout Gentleman, he could not control his agitation. His
-eyes rolled and watered; his jaws constantly yawned like a panther’s;
-and his hands with a convulsive movement were clasped every now and
-then on his stomach;--but when the whole rabbit was smothered in
-snake, he could restrain himself no longer, and rushed out of the
-menagerie as if he really expected to be called upon to fulfil his
-rash engagement. Anxious to ascertain the true nature of the impulse,
-I hurried in pursuit of him, and after a short but sharp chase, I saw
-him dash into the British Hotel, and overheard his familiar voice--the
-same that had promised to swallow both Snake and Snack--bellowing out,
-guttural with hunger--“Here!--waiter!--Quick!--Rabbits in onions for
-two!”
-
-[Illustration: THE GREAT SEA SERPENT DISCOVERED FROM THE MAST-HEAD.]
-
-
-
-
-A STORM AT HASTINGS
-
-AND THE LITTLE UNKNOWN.
-
-
-    ’TWAS August--Hastings every day was filling--
-    Hastings, that “greenest spot on memory’s waste!”
-    With crowds of idlers willing or unwilling
-    To be bedipped--be noticed--or be braced,
-    And all things rose a penny in a shilling.
-    Meanwhile, from window and from door, in haste
-    “Accommodation bills” kept coming down,
-    Gladding “the world of letters” in that town.
-
-    Each day pour’d in new coach-fulls of new cits,
-    Flying from London smoke and dust annoying,
-    Unmarried Misses hoping to make hits,
-    And new-wed couples fresh from Tunbridge toying.
-    Lacemen and placemen, ministers and wits,
-    And Quakers of both sexes, much enjoying
-    A morning’s reading by the ocean’s rim,
-    That sect delighting in the sea’s broad brim.
-
-[Illustration: AN ABRIDGMENT OF ALL THAT IS PLEASANT IN MAN.]
-
-    And lo! amongst all these appear’d a creature,
-    So small, he almost might a twin have been,
-    With Miss Crachami--dwarfish quite in stature,
-    Yet well proportion’d--neither fat nor lean,
-    His face of marvellously pleasant feature.
-    So short and sweet a man was never seen--
-    All thought him charming at the first beginning--
-    Alas, ere long they found him far too winning!
-
-    He seem’d in love with chance--and chance repaid
-    His ardent passion with her fondest smile,
-    The sunshine of good luck, without a shade,
-    He staked and won--and won and staked--the bile
-    It stirr’d of many a man and many a maid,
-    To see at every venture how that vile
-    Small gambler snatch’d--and how he won them too--
-    A living Pam, omnipotent at loo!
-
-[Illustration: A TIDE-WAITER.]
-
-    Miss Wiggins set her heart upon a box,
-    ’Twas handsome, rosewood, and inlaid with brass,
-    And dreamt three times she garnish’d it with stocks,
-    Of needles, silks, and cottons--but alas!
-    She lost it wide awake.--We thought Miss Cox
-    Was lucky--but she saw three caddies pass
-    To that small imp:--no living luck could loo him!
-    Sir Stamford would have lost his Raffles to him!
-
-    And so he climb’d--and rode, and won--and walk’d,
-    The wondrous topic of the curious swarm
-    That haunted the Parade. Many were balk’d
-    Of notoriety by that small form
-    Pacing it up and down:--some even talk’d
-    Of ducking him--when lo! a dismal storm
-    Stepp’d in--one Friday, at the close of day--
-    And every head was turn’d another way--
-
-    Watching the grander guest. It seem’d to rise
-    Bulky and slow upon the southern brink
-    Of the horizon--fann’d by sultry sighs--
-    So black and threatening, I cannot think
-    Of any simile, except the skies
-    Miss Wiggins sometime _shades_ in Indian ink--
-    _Miss_-shapen blotches of such heavy vapour,
-    They seem a deal more solid than her paper.
-
-    As for the sea, it did not fret, and rave,
-    And tear its waves to tatters, and so dash on
-    The stony-hearted beach;--some bards would have
-    It always rampant, in that idle fashion,--
-    Whereas the waves roll’d in, subdued and grave,
-    Like schoolboys, when the master’s in a passion,
-    Who meekly settle in and take their places,
-    With a very quiet awe on all their faces.
-
-    Some love to draw the ocean with a head,
-    Like troubled table-beer,--and make it bounce,
-    And froth and roar, and fling--but this, I’ve said,
-    Surged in scarce rougher than a lady’s flounce:--
-    But then, a grander contrast thus it bred
-    With the wild welkin, seeming to pronounce
-    Something more awful in the serious ear,
-    As one would whisper that a lion’s near--
-
-    Who just begins to roar; so the hoarse thunder
-    Growl’d long--but low--a prelude note of death,
-    As if the stifling clouds yet kept it under,
-    But still it mutter’d to the sea beneath
-    Such a continued peal, as made us wonder
-    It did not pause more oft to take its breath,
-    Whilst we were panting with the sultry weather,
-    And hardly cared to wed two words together,
-
-    But watch’d the surly advent of the storm,
-    Much as the brown-cheek’d planters of Barbadoes
-    Must watch a rising of the Negro swarm:--
-    Meantime it steer’d, like Odin’s old Armadas,
-    Right on our coast;--a dismal, coal-black form;--
-    Many proud gaits were quell’d--and all bravadoes
-    Of folly ceased--and sundry idle jokers
-    Went home to cover up their tongs and pokers.
-
-    So fierce the lightning flashed. In all their days
-    The oldest smugglers had not seen such flashing,
-    And they are used to many a pretty blaze,
-    To keep their Hollands from an awkward clashing
-    With hostile cutters in our creeks and bays:--
-    And truly one could think without much lashing
-    The fancy, that those coasting clouds so awful
-    And black, were fraught with spirits as unlawful.
-
-    The gay Parade grew thin--all the fair crowd
-    Vanish’d--as if they knew their own attractions,--
-    For now the lightning through a near hand cloud
-    Began to make some very crooked fractions--
-    Only some few remain’d that were not cow’d,
-    A few rough sailors, who had been in actions,
-    And sundry boatmen, that with quick yeo’s,
-    Lest it should _blow_,--were pulling up the _Rose_:
-
-    (No flower, but a boat)--some more hauling
-    The _Regent_ by the head:--another crew
-    With that same cry peculiar to their _calling_--
-    Were heaving up the _Hope_:--and as they knew
-    The very gods themselves oft get a mauling
-    In their own realms, the seamen wisely drew
-    The _Neptune_ rather higher on the beach,
-    That he might lie beyond his billows’ reach.
-
-    And now the storm, with its despotic power
-    Had all usurp’d the azure of the skies,
-    Making our daylight darker by an hour,
-    And some few drops--of an unusual size--
-    Few and distinct--scarce twenty to the shower,
-    Fell like huge tear-drops from a Giant’s eyes--
-    But then this sprinkle thicken’d in a trice
-    And rain’d much _harder_--in good solid ice.
-
-    Oh! for a very storm of words to show
-    How this fierce crash of hail came rushing o’er us!
-    Handel would make the gusty organs blow
-    Grandly, and a rich storm in music score us!--
-    But ev’n his music seem’d composed and low,
-    When we were _handled_ by this Hailstone Chorus;
-    Whilst thunder rumbled, with its awful sound,
-    And frozen comfits roll’d along the ground--
-
-    As big as bullets:--Lord! how they did batter
-    Our crazy tiles:--And now the lightning flash’d
-    Alternate with the dark, until the latter
-    Was rarest of the two:--the gust too dash’d
-    So terribly, I thought the hail must shatter
-    Some panes,--and so it did--and first it smash’d
-    The very square where I had chose my station
-    To watch the general illumination.
-
-    Another, and another, still came in,
-    And fell in jingling ruin at my feet,
-    Making transparent holes that let me win
-    Some samples of the storm:--Oh! it was sweet
-    To think I had a shelter for my skin,
-    Culling them through these “loopholes of retreat”--
-    Which in a little we began to glaze--
-    Chiefly with a jacktowel and some baize!
-
-    By which, the cloud had pass’d o’erhead, but play’d
-    Its crooked fires in constant flashes still,
-    Just in our rear, as though it had array’d
-    Its heavy batteries at Fairlight Mill,
-    So that it lit the town, and grandly made
-    The rugged features of the Castle Hill
-    Leap, like a birth, from chaos, into light,
-    And then relapse into the gloomy night--
-
-    As parcel of the cloud:--the clouds themselves,
-    Like monstrous crags and summits everlasting,
-    Piled each on each in most gigantic shelves,
-    That Milton’s devils were engaged in blasting.--
-    We could e’en fancy Satan and his elves
-    Busy upon those crags, and ever casting
-    Huge fragments loose--and that we _felt_ the sound
-    They made in falling to the startled ground.
-
-    And so the tempest scowl’d away,--and soon,
-    Timidly shining through its skirts of jet,
-    We saw the rim of the pacific moon,
-    Like a bright fish entangled in a net,
-    Flashing its silver sides,--how sweet a boon,
-    Seem’d her sweet light, as though it would beget,
-    With that fair smile, a calm upon the seas--
-    Peace in the sky--and coolness in the breeze!
-
-    Meantime the hail had ceased:--and all the brood
-    Of glaziers stole abroad to count their gains;--
-    At every window, there were maids who stood
-    Lamenting o’er the glass’s small remains,--
-    Or with coarse linens made the fractious good,
-    Stanching the wind in all the wounded panes,--
-    Or, holding candles to the panes, in doubt:
-    The wind resolved--blowing the candles out.
-
-    No house was whole that had a southern front,--
-    No green-house but the same mishap befell:--
-    _Bow_-windows and _bell_-glasses bore the brunt,--
-    No sex in glass was spared!--For those who dwell
-    On each hill side, you might have swam a punt
-    In any of their parlours;--Mrs. Snell
-    Was slopp’d out of her seat,--and Mr. Hitchin
-    Had a _flow’r_-garden wash’d into a _Kitchen_.
-
-[Illustration: SHE FROM OCEAN RISING.]
-
-    But still the sea was mild, and quite disclaim’d
-    The recent violence.--Each after each
-    The gentle waves a gentle murmur framed,
-    Tapping, like Woodpeckers, the hollow beach.
-    Howbeit his _weather eye_ the seaman aim’d
-    Across the calm, and hinted by his speech
-    A gale next morning--and when morning broke
-    There was a gale--“quite equal to bespoke.”
-
-    Before high water--(it were better far
-    To christen it not _water_ then, but _waiter_,
-    For then the tide is _serving at the bar_)
-    Rose such a swell--I never saw one greater!
-    Black, jagged billows rearing up in war
-    Like ragged roaring bears against the baiter,
-    With lots of froth upon the shingle shed,
-    Like stout pour’d out with a fine _beachy head_.
-
-    No open boat was open to a fare,
-    Or launch’d that morn on seven-shilling trips;
-    No bathing woman waded--none would dare
-    A dipping in the wave--but waived their dips;
-    No seagull ventured on the stormy air,
-    And all the dreary coast was clear of ships;
-    For two _lea shores_ upon the river Lea
-    Are not so perilous as one at sea.
-
-    Awe-struck we sat, and gazed upon the scene
-    Before us in such horrid hurly-burly,--
-    A boiling ocean of mix’d black and green,
-    A sky of copper colour, grim and surly,--
-    When lo, in that vast hollow scoop’d between
-    Two rolling Alps of water,--white and curly!
-    We saw a pair of little arms a-skimming,
-    Much like a first or last attempt at swimming!
-
-    Sometimes a hand--sometimes a little shoe--
-    Sometimes a skirt--sometimes a hank of hair,
-    Just like a dabbled seaweed, rose to view,
-    Sometimes a knee, sometimes a back was bare--
-    At last a frightful summerset he threw
-    Right on the shingles. Any one could swear
-    The lad was dead--without a chance of perjury,
-    And batter’d by the surge beyond all surgery!
-
-    However, we snatch’d up the corse thus thrown,
-    Intending, Christian-like, to sod and turf it,
-    And after venting Pity’s sigh and groan,
-    Then Curiosity began with _her_ fit;
-    And lo! the features of the Small Unknown!
-    ’Twas he that of the surf had had this surfeit!--
-    And in his fob, the cause of late monopolies!
-    We found a contract signed Mephistopheles!
-
-    A bond of blood, whereby the sinner gave
-    His forfeit soul to Satan in reversion,
-    Providing in this world he was to have
-    A lordship over luck, by whose exertion
-    He might control the course of cards, and brave
-    All throws of dice,--but on a sea excursion
-    The juggling Demon, in his usual vein,
-    Seized the last cast--and _Nick’d_ him in the _main_!
-
-
-
-
-LINES
-
-TO A LADY ON HER DEPARTURE FOR INDIA.
-
-
-    Go where the waves run rather Holborn-hilly,
-    And tempests make a soda-water sea,
-    Almost as rough as our rough Piccadilly,
-                              And think of me!
-
-    Go where the mild Madeira ripens _her_ juice,--
-    A wine more praised that it deserves to be:
-    Go pass the Cape, just capable of ver-juice,
-                              And think of me!
-
-[Illustration: KETCHING ITS PREY.]
-
-    Go where the Tiger in the darkness prowleth
-    Making a midnight meal of he and she;
-    Go where the Lion in his hunger howleth,
-                              And think of me!
-
-    Go where the serpent dangerously coileth,
-    Or lies along at full length like a tree,
-    Go where the Suttee in her own soot broileth,
-                              And think of me!
-
-    Go where with human notes the Parrot dealeth
-    In mono-_polly_-logue with tongue as free,
-    And like a woman, all she can revealeth,
-                              And think of me!
-
-    Go to the land of muslin and nankeening,
-    And parasols of straw where hats should be,
-    Go to the land of slaves and palankeening,
-                              And think of me!
-
-    Go to the land of Jungles and of vast hills,
-    And tall bamboos--may none _bamboozle_ thee!
-    Go gaze upon their Elephants and Castles,
-                              And think of me!
-
-    Go where a cook must always be a currier,
-    And parch the pepper’d palate like a pea,
-    Go where the fierce musquito is a worrier,
-                              And think of me!
-
-[Illustration: “A SOW WESTER OFF THE CAPE:--PIGS IN THE TROUGH OF THE
-SEA.”]
-
-    Go where the maiden on a marriage plan goes,
-    Consign’d for wedlock to Calcutta’s quay,
-    Where woman goes for mart, the same as mangoes,
-                              And think of me!
-
-    Go where the sun is very hot and fervent,
-    Go to the land of pagod and rupee,
-    Where every black will be your slave and servant,
-                              And think of me!
-
-
-
-
-THE NELSON.
-
-    This here, your honour, upon wheels, is the true genuine real
-    _Nelson’s Car_.
-
-    GUIDE TO GREENWICH HOSPITAL.
-
-
-“THE Nelson,” I repeated to myself, as I read that illustrious name on
-the dicky of the vehicle--“the Nelson.” My fancy instantly converted
-the coach into a first-rate, the leaders and wheelers into sea-horses,
-the driver into Neptunus, brandishing a trident, and the guard into a
-Triton blowing his wreathed shell. There was room for one on the box,
-so I climbed up, and took my seat beside the coachman. “Now, clap on
-all sail,” said I, audibly, “I am proud to be one of the crew of the
-great Nelson, the hero of Aboukir.”
-
-“Begging your pardon, Sir,” said the coachman, “the Hero ain’t a booker
-at Mrs. Nelson’s: it goes from some other yard.” Gracious powers! what
-a tumble down stairs for an idea! As for mine, it pitched on its head,
-as stunned and stupefied as if it had rolled down the whole flight
-at the Monument. “I have made a Bull, indeed,” I exclaimed, as the
-noted inn at Aldgate occurred to my memory; “but we are the slaves of
-association,” I continued, addressing the coachman, “and the name of
-Nelson identified itself with the Union Jack.”
-
-“I really can’t say,” replied the coachman, very civilly, “whether
-the name of Mrs. Nelson is down to the Slave Associations or not: but
-as for Jack, if you mean Jack Bunce, he’s been off the Union these
-six months. Too fond of the _Bar_, Sir” (here he tipped me the most
-significant of winks), “to keep his seat on the _Bench_.”
-
-“I alluded, my good fellow, to Nelson, the wonder of the maritime
-world--the dauntless leader when yard was opposed to yard, and seas
-teemed with blood.”
-
-“We’re all right--as right as a trivet,” said the coachman, after a
-pause of perplexity; “I thought our notions were getting rather wide
-apart, and that one of us wanted putting straight; but I see what you
-mean, and quite go along with your opinion, step for step. To be sure,
-Mrs. Nelson has done the world and all for coaching; and the Wonder
-_is_ the crack of all the drags in London, and so is the Dauntless,
-let yard turn out agin yard, as you say, any day you like. And as for
-leaders, and teams full of blood, there’s as pretty a sprinkling of
-blood in the tits I’m now tooling of--”
-
-“The vehicles of the proprietress, and the appearance of the animals,
-with their corresponding caparisons,” said I, “have often gratified my
-visual organs and elicited my mental plaudits.”
-
-“That’s exactly what _I_ says,” replied the coachman, very briskly,
-“there’s no humbug nor no nonsense about Mrs. Nelson. You never see her
-a standing a-foaming and fretting in front o’ the Bank, with a regular
-mob round her, and looking as if she’d bolt with the Quicksilver. And
-you never see her painted all over her body, wherever there’s room for
-’em, with Saracen Heads, and Blue Boars, and Brown Bears, from her
-roller bolts to her dicky and hind boot. She’s plain and neat, and
-nothin’ else--and is fondest of having her body of a claret colour,
-pick’d out with white, and won’t suffer the Bull, no where, except on
-the back-gammon board.”
-
-I know not how much further the whimsical description might have gone,
-if a strapping, capless, curly-headed lass, running with all her might
-and main, had not addressed a screaming retainer to the coachman. With
-some difficulty he pulled up, for he had been tacitly giving me a proof
-that the craft of _his_ Nelson was a first-rate, with regard to its
-rate of travelling.
-
-“If you please, Mr. Stevens,” said the panting damsel, holding up
-something towards the box--“if you please, Mr. Stevens, mother’s gone
-to Lonnon--in the light cart--and will you be so kind as to give
-her--her linchpin.”
-
-Mr. Stevens took the article with a smile, and I fancied with a sly
-squeeze of the hand that delivered it.
-
-“If such a go had been anyone’s but your mother’s, Fanny,” he slyly
-remarked, “I should have said it was somebody in love.” The Dispatch
-was too strictly timed to allow of further parley; the horses broke, or
-were rather broken, into a gallop, in pursuit of the mother of Fanny,
-the Flower of Waltham; and the pin secretly acting as a spur, we did
-the next five mile in something like twenty minutes.
-
-In spite, however, of this unusual speed, we never overtook Mrs.
-Merryweather and her cart till we arrived at the Basing-House, where we
-found her chirping over a cup of ale; as safe and sound as if linchpins
-had never been invented; in fact, she made as light of the article,
-when it was handed to her, as if it had been only a pin out of her gown!
-
-[Illustration: FANCY PORTRAIT--MRS. NELSON.]
-
-“Well, I must say one thing for Mrs. Nelson,” said our coachman, as he
-resumed his seat on the box, “and that’s this. There’s no pinning at
-the Bull. She sets her face against everything but the patent boxes.
-She may come to a runaway with a bolter--or drop the ribbons--or make a
-mistake in clearing a gate, by being a little lushy--but you’ll never
-see Mrs. Nelson lying flat on her side in the middle of the road, with
-her insides gone to smash, and her outsides well distributed, because
-she’s been let go out of the yard without one of her pins.”
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: THE STAMP DUTY ON SCOTCH LINEN.]
-
-
-
-
-SONNET
-
-TO A SCOTCH GIRL, WASHING LINEN AFTER HER COUNTRY FASHION.
-
-
-    WELL done and wetly, thou Fair Maid of Perth,
-      Thou mak’st a washing picture well deserving
-      The pen and pencilling of Washington Irving:
-    Like dripping Naiad, pearly from her birth,
-    Dashing about the water of the Firth,
-      To cleanse the calico of Mrs. Skirving,
-      And never from thy dance of duty swerving
-    As there were nothing else than dirt on earth!
-    Yet what is thy reward? Nay, do not start!
-      I do not mean to give thee a new damper,
-    But while thou fillest this industrious part
-      Of washer, wearer, mangler, presser, stamper,
-    Deserving better character--thou art
-      What Bodkin would but call--“a common tramper.”
-
-
-
-
-MY APOLOGY.
-
-
-    GENTLE READERS,
-
-For the present month, there must be what Dr. Johnson called a solution
-of continuity in my “Literary Reminiscences.” Confined to my chamber
-by what ought to be termed _room_atism--then attacked by my old
-livery complaint--and finally, by a minor, but troublesome malady,
-the Present has too much prevailed over the Past, to let me indulge
-in any retrospective reviews. In such cases, on the stage, when a
-Performer is unable to support his character, a substitute is usually
-found to read the part; but, unfortunately, in the present case there
-is no part written, and consequently it cannot be read. But apropos of
-theatricals--there is an anecdote on point.
-
-In the Olympic days of the great Elliston, there was one evening a
-tremendous tumult at his Theatre, in consequence of the absence of a
-favourite performer. One man in the pit--a Butcher--was especially
-vociferous in his cry for “Carl! Carl! Carl!” Others called for the
-Manager, who duly made his appearance, and black as the weather
-looked, he was the very sort of pilot to weather the storm. With one
-of his princely bows he proceeded to address the House. “Ladies
-and Gentlemen--but by your leave I will address myself to a single
-individual. I will ask that gentleman (pointing to the vociferous
-Butcher) what right he has to demand the appearance of Mr. Carl?”
-
-“’Cos,” said the Butcher, “’cos he’s down in the Bill.” Such an
-undeniable answer would have staggered any other Manager than Elliston,
-but he was not easily to be disconcerted. “Because he is down in the
-bill!” he echoed, in a tone of the loftiest indignation: “Ladies and
-Gentlemen, the Mr. Carl, so unseasonably, so vociferously and so
-unfeelingly called for, is at this very moment labouring under severe
-illness--he is in bed. And let me ask, is a man, a fellow-creature,
-a human being, to be torn from his couch, from his home, on a cold
-night, from the affectionate attentions of his wife and family, at
-the risk of his valuable life perhaps, to go through a fatiguing part
-because he happens to be DOWN IN THE BILL?” [Cries of “Shame, shame!”
-from all parts of the house.] “And yet, ladies and gentlemen, there
-stands a man--if I may call him so--a Butcher, that for his own selfish
-gratification--the amusement of a few short hours--would risk the very
-existence of a deserving member of society, a good husband, father,
-friend, and one of your favourite actors, and all, forsooth, because
-he is DOWN IN THE BILL!” [Universal hooting, with cries of “Turn him
-out.”] “By all means,” acquiesced the Manager, with one of his best
-bows--and the indignant pittites actually hooted and kicked their own
-champion out of the theatre, as something more than a Butcher, and less
-than a Christian.
-
-Now I am myself, gentle readers, in the same predicament with Mr.
-Carl. Like him I am an invalid--and like him I am unfortunately down
-in the Bill. It would not become me to set forth my own domestic or
-social virtues, or to hint what sort of gap my loss would make in
-society--still less would it consist with modesty to compare myself
-with a favourite actor--but as a mere human being I throw myself on
-your mercy, and ask, in common charity, would you have had me leave
-my warm bed, to shiver in a printer’s damp sheets, at the risk of my
-reputation perhaps, and for the mere amusement of some half hour, or
-more probably for no amusement at all--simply because I was “_down in
-the Bill_?”
-
-But there is no such Butcher, or Butcheress, or little Butcherling,
-amongst you; and by your good leave and patience, the instalment of my
-Reminiscences that is over due, shall be paid with interest in the NEXT
-NUMBER.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: THE TOP OF HIS PROFESSION.]
-
-
-
-
-SONNET TO A DECAYED SEAMAN.
-
-
-    HAIL! seventy-four cut down! Hail, Top and Lop!
-      Unless I’m much mistaken in my notion,
-    Thou wast a stirring Tar, before that hop
-      Became so fatal to thy locomotion;--
-    Now, thrown on shore, like a mere weed of ocean,
-      Thou readest still to men a lesson good,
-    To King and Country showing thy devotion,
-      By kneeling thus upon a stump of wood!
-    Still is thy spirit strong as alcohol;
-      Spite of that limb, begot of acorn-egg,--
-    Methinks,--thou Naval History in one Vol.--
-      A virtue shines, e’en in that timber leg,
-    For unlike others that desert their Poll,
-      Thou walkest ever with thy “Constant Peg!”
-
-
-
-
-THE GREAT CONFLAGRATION.
-
-
-_Dreadful Fire--Destruction of both Houses of Parliament--The Speaker’s
-House gutted--Reports of Incendiarism._
-
-IT is our unexpected lot to announce that the Houses of Lords and
-Commons, so often threatened with combustion, are in a state of actual
-ignition. At this moment, both fabrics are furiously burning. We are
-writing this paragraph without the aid of lamp or candles; by the mere
-reflection of the flames. Nothing is known of the origin of the fire,
-although it is throwing a light upon everything else.--_Evening Star._
-
-The devouring element which destroyed Covent Garden and Drury Lane,
-the Royalty and the Pantheon, has made its appearance on a new stage,
-equally devoted to declamatory elocution. St. Stephen’s Chapel is in
-flames! The floor which was trodden by the eloquent legs of a Fox,
-a Burke, a Pitt, and a Sheridan, is reduced to a heap of ashes; and
-the benches which sustained the Demosthenic weight of a Wyndham, a
-Whitbread, and a Wilberforce, are a mere mass of charcoal. The very
-roof that re-echoed the classicalities of Canning is nodding to its
-fall. In Parliamentary language, Fire is in possession of the House:
-the Destructive spirit is on its legs, and the Conservative principle
-can offer but a feeble opposition.--_Daily Post._
-
-The blow is struck. What we have long foreseen has come to pass.
-Incendiarism triumphs! The whole British Empire, as represented by the
-three estates, is in a blaze! The Throne, the Lords, and the Commons,
-are now burning. The cycle is complete. The spirit of Guy Fawkes
-revives in 1834!
-
-England seems to have changed places with Italy; London with Naples.
-We stand hourly on the brink of a crater; every step we take is on
-a solfaterra--not a land of Sol Fa, as some musical people would
-translate it; but a frail crust, with a treacherous subsoil of ardent
-brimstone! At length the eyes of our rulers are opened; but we must
-ask, could nothing short of such an eruption awaken them to a sense
-of the perilous state of the country? For weeks, nay, months past, at
-the risk of being considered alarmists, we have called the attention
-of the legislature and magistracy to a variety of suspicious symptoms
-and signs of the times, and in particular to the multiplied chemical
-inventions, for the purpose of obtaining instantaneous lights. Well
-are certain matches or fire-boxes called Lucifers, for they may be
-applied to the most diabolical purposes! The origin of the fire cannot
-raise the shadow of a doubt in any reasonable mind. Accident is out
-of the question. Tell us not of tallies. We have just tried our
-milk-woman’s, and it contained so much water, that nothing could make
-it ignite.--_Britannic Guardian_.
-
-The Houses of Parliament are in flames. We shall stop the press to give
-full particulars. Our reporters are at the spot, and Mons. C----, the
-celebrated Salamander, is engaged to give a description of the blazing
-_interiors_, exclusively for this journal.--_Daily Times._
-
-
-_From a Correspondent._
-
-On Thursday evening, towards seven o’clock, I was struck by the
-singular appearance of the moon silvering the opposite chimneys with
-a blood-red light, a lunar phenomenon, which I conceived belonged
-only to our theatres. It speedily occurred to me that there must be
-a conflagration in my vicinity, and after a little hunting by scent
-as well as sight, I found myself in front of the Houses of Lords
-and Commons, which were burning with a rapidity and brilliancy that
-I make bold to say did not always characterise their proceedings.
-By favour of my natural assurance, which seemed to identify me with
-the firemen, I was allowed to pass through the lines of guards and
-policemen, who surrounded the blazing pile, and was thus enabled to
-select a favourable position for overlooking the whole scene. It was
-an imposing sight. The flames rose from the Peers’ in a volume, as red
-as the Extraordinary Red Book, and the House of Commons was not at
-all behind-hand in voting supplies of timber and other combustibles.
-Westminster Hall reminded me vividly of a London cry, “Hall hot, Hall
-hot,” that was familiar in our childhood--and the Gothic architecture
-of the Abbey seemed unusually _florid_. Instead of dingy stone, the
-venerable pile appeared to be built of the well-baked brick of the
-Elizabethan age. Indeed, so red-hot was its aspect, that it led to a
-ludicrous misapprehension on the part of the populace. A procession,
-bearing several male and female figures in a state of insensibility,
-naturally gave rise to the most painful conjectures, inferring loss of
-human life by the devouring element, but I have reason to believe it
-was only the Dean and Chapter saving the Wax-Work. As far as my own
-observation went, the first object carried out certainly bore a strong
-resemblance to General Monk.
-
-In the meantime a select party had effected an entrance into the Hall,
-but not without some serious delay, occasioned, I believe, by somebody
-within bringing the wrong key, that belonged to a tea-caddy. However,
-at last they entered, and I followed their example. The first person
-I beheld was the veteran Higginbottom, so unfairly, but facetiously,
-put to death by the authors of the Rejected Addresses; for no man is
-more alive to his duty. But he was sadly hampered. First came one
-Hon. Gent. said to be Mr. Morrison, and insisted on directing the
-_Hose_ department; and next arrived a noble Lord from Crockford’s, who
-wouldn’t sit out, but persisted in taking a hand, and playing, though
-every body agreed that he played too high. I mention this, because some
-of the journals have imputed mismanagement to the engines, and have
-insinuated that the pipes wanted organising; indeed, I myself overheard
-a noble director of the Academy of Music lamenting that the firemen did
-not “play in concert.”
-
-[Illustration: PLAYING AT HAZARD.]
-
-The same remark applies with greater force to the House of Commons.
-Here all was confusion worse confounded, and Higginbottom’s station
-was enviable, compared with that of some of the poor fellows in St.
-Stephen’s Chapel. A considerable number of members had arrived, and
-without any attention to their usual parliamentary rules, were all
-making motions at once, which nobody seconded. The most prominent,
-I was informed, were Mr. Hume, Mr. O’Connell, Mr. Attwood, Mr.
-Buckingham, Mr. Pease, Sir Andrew, and Mr. Buxton--the latter almost
-covered with blacks. The clamour was terrific, and I really expected
-that the poor foremen who held the pipes would be torn in pieces. Every
-body wanted to command the Coldstream. Nothing but shouts of “Here!
-here! here!” answered like an Irish echo by cries of “There! there!
-there!” “Oh, save my savings!”--“My poor, Poor Bill!” “More water--more
-water for my Drunkenness!” “Work awa, lads, work awa--it’s no the
-Sabbath, and ye may just play at what ye like!”
-
-In pleasing contrast to this tumult, was the unusual and cordial
-unanimity of the members of both Houses, in rescuing whatever was
-portable from the flames. It was a delightful novelty to see the
-Lords helping the Commons in whatever they moved or carried. No party
-spirit--no Whig, pulling at one leg of the table, whilst a Tory tugged
-at another in the opposite direction. They seemed to belong to the
-Hand-in-Hand. Peers and Commoners were alike seen burthened with loads
-of papers or furniture. Mr. Calvert, in particular, worked like any
-porter. Of course, in rescuing the papers and parchments, there was no
-time for inspecting their contents, and some curious results were the
-consequence. Every body remembers the pathetic story in the Tatler,
-of the lover who saved a strange lady from a burning theatre, under
-the idea that he was preserving the mistress of his affections, and
-some similar mistakes are currently reported to have occurred at the
-late conflagration--and equally to the chagrin of the parties. I go
-by hearsay, and cannot vouch for the facts, but it is said that the
-unpopular Six Acts, including what I believe is called the Gagging
-Act, were actually preserved by Mr. Cobbett. Mr. O’Connell saved the
-Irish Coercion Bill, whilst the Reform Bill was snatched like “a brand
-out of the fire,” by a certain noble Duke, who resolutely set his face
-against it in all its stages! Amongst others, Mr. Ricardo saved an old
-tattered flag, which he thought was “the standard of value.”
-
-[Illustration: CRIBBAGE:--ONE FOR HIS NOB AND TWO FOR HIS HEELS.]
-
-However deficient in general combination, and concentration of
-energies, individual efforts were beyond all praise. The instances of
-personal exertion and daring were numerous. Mr. Rice worked amidst
-the flames till he was nearly baked; and everybody expected that Mr.
-Pease would be parched. The greatest danger was from the melted metal
-pouring down from the windows and roof. The heads of some of the Hon.
-Gentlemen were literally nothing but lead. Great apprehensions were
-entertained of the falling in of one of the walls, which eventually
-gave way, but fortunately everybody had retreated on the timely warning
-of a gentleman, Mr. O’Connell, I believe, who declared that he saw a
-Rent in it.
-
-I did not enter the House of Lords, which was now one mass of glowing
-fire, but directed my attention towards the Speaker’s mansion, which
-was partially burning. The garden behind was nearly filled with
-miscellaneous property--and numbers of well-dressed gentlemen were
-every moment rushing into the house, from which they issued again,
-laden with spits, sauce-pans, and other culinary implements. I, myself,
-saw one zealous individual thus encumbered--with a stew-pan on his
-head, the meat-screen under one arm, the dripping-pan under the other,
-the frying-pan in his right hand, the grid-iron in his left, and the
-rolling-pin in his mouth. Indeed, it is said that every article in the
-kitchen was saved down to the salt-box; and the cook declares that such
-was the anxiety to save her she was “cotched up in twelve gentlemen’s
-arms, and never felt her feet till the corner of Abingdon Street.”
-
-The whole of the Foot Guards were in attendance, as well as a
-great number of the police, but the thieves had mustered in great
-force, and there was a good deal of plundering, which was however
-checked temporarily by a gentleman said to be one of the members and
-magistrates for Essex, who jumped up on a railing and addressed the
-populace to the following effect, “How do you hall dare!”
-
-The origin of the fire is involved in much mystery; nor is it correctly
-ascertained by whom it was first discovered. Some say that one of the
-serjeants, in taking up the insignia, was astonished to find the mace
-as hot as ginger. Others relate that a Mr. Spell, or Shell, or Snell,
-whilst viewing the House, although no dancer, began suddenly, and in
-his boots, to the utter amazement of his companions and Mrs. Wright,
-the housekeeper, to jump and caper like a bear upon a hotted floor.
-This story certainly seems to countenance a report that the mischief
-originated in the warming apparatus, an opinion that is very current,
-but, for my own part, I cannot conceive that the Collective Wisdom,
-which knows how to lay down laws for us all, should not know how to lay
-down flues. Rumours of Incendiarism are also very generally prevalent,
-and stories are in circulation of the finding of half-burnt matches and
-other combustibles. But these facts rest on very frail foundations. The
-links said to have been found in the Speaker’s garden have turned out
-to be nothing but German sausages; and another cock-and-a-bull that has
-got abroad will probably come to no better end. A Mr. Dudley affirms
-that he smelt the fire before it broke out, at Cooper’s Hill; but such
-olfactories are too much like manufactories to be believed.
-
-    I am, Sir, your most obedient Servant,
-    X. Y. Z.
-
-
-_Another Account._
-
-The writer of these lines, who resides in Lambeth, was first awakened
-to a sense of conflagration by a cry of “Fire” from a number of persons
-who were running in the direction of Westminster Bridge. Owning myself
-a warm enthusiast on the subject of ignition, and indeed not having
-missed a fire for the last fifty years, except one, and that was only a
-chimney, it may be supposed the exclamation in question had an electric
-effect. We are all the slaves of some physical bias, strange as it may
-appear to others with opposite tendencies. It is recorded of some great
-marshal that he disliked music, but testified the liveliest pleasure at
-a salvo of artillery or a roll of thunder, and the rumble of an engine
-has the same effect on the author of these lines. To say I am a guebre,
-or fire-worshipper, is only to confess the truth. I have a sort of
-observatory erected on the roof of my house, from which, if there be a
-break-out within the circuit of the metropolis, it may be discovered,
-and before going to bed I invariably visit this look-out.
-
-Every man has his hobby-horse, and, figuratively speaking, mine was
-always kept harnessed and ready to run to a fire with the first engine.
-Many a time I have arrived before the turncocks, though I perhaps had
-to traverse half London, and I scarcely remember an instance that I
-did not appear long before the water. Habit is second nature--I verily
-believe I could sniff a conflagration by instinct; and if I was not, I
-ought to have been, the trainer of the firemen’s dog, which at present
-attracts so much of the public attention, by his eager running along
-with the Sun, the Globe, the British, and the Hand-in-Hand.
-
-[Illustration: “’TIS DISTANCE LENDS ENCHANTMENT TO THE VIEW.”]
-
-Of course I have seen a great many fires in my time--Rotherhithe,
-the theatres, the Custom-house, &c. &c. I remember in the days of
-Thistlewood and Co., when the metropolis was expected to be set on
-fire, I slept for three weeks in my clothes in order to be ready for
-the first alarm; for I had the good fortune to witness the great riots
-of 1780, when no less than eight fires were blazing at once, and a
-lamentable sight it was. I say lamentable, because it was impossible
-to be present at them all at the same time; but my good genius directed
-me to Langdale’s the Distiller, which made (excuse the vulgar popular
-phrase) a very satisfactory flare-up.
-
-The Rotherhithe fire, not the recent little job, but some fifteen
-or twenty years ago, was also on a grand scale, and very lasting.
-The engine-pipes were wilfully cut; and I remember some of my
-friends rallying me on my well-known propensity, jocularly accusing
-me of lending my knife and my assistance. The Custom-house was a
-disappointment; it certainly cleared itself effectually, but it was
-done by day-light, and consequently the long-room fell short of my
-anticipations. Drury-lane and Covent-garden were better: but I have
-observed generally that theatres burn with more attention to stage
-effect. They avoid the noon; a dark night to a fire is like the black
-letters in a benefit-bill, setting off the red ones.
-
-The destruction of the Kent Indiaman I should like to have witnessed,
-but contrary to the opinion of many experienced amateurs I conceive
-the Dartford Mills must have been a failure. Powder magazines make
-very indifferent conflagrations; they are no sooner on fire than they
-are off,--all is over before you know where you are, and there is no
-getting under, which quite puts you out. But fires, generally, are not
-what they used to be. What with gas, and new police, steam, and one
-cause or other, they have become what one might call slow explosions.
-A body of flame bursts from all the windows at once, and before B 25
-can call fi-er in two syllables, the roof falls in, and all is over.
-It was not so in _my_ time. First a little smoke would issue from a
-window-shutter, like the puff of a cigar, and after a long spring of
-his rattle, the rheumatic watchman had time to knock double and treble
-knocks, from No. 9 to No. 35, before a spark made its appearance out of
-the chimney-pot. The Volunteers had time to assemble under arms, and
-muffle their drums, and the bell-ringers to collect in the belfry, and
-pull an alarm peal backwards. The parish engines even, although pulled
-along by the pursy churchwardens, and the paralytic paupers, contrived
-to arrive before the fire fairly broke out in the shape of a little
-squib-like eruption from the garret-window. The affrighted family,
-fourteen in number, all elaborately drest in their best Sunday clothes,
-saved themselves by the street-door, according to seniority, the
-furniture was carefully removed, and after an hour’s pumping, the fire
-was extinguished without extending beyond the room where it originated,
-namely a bed-room on the second floor. Such was the progress _in my
-time_ of a fire, but it is the fashion now to sacrifice everything
-to _pace_. Look at our race-horses, and look at our fox-hounds,--and
-I will add look at our conflagrations. All that is cared for is a
-burst--no matter how short, if it be but rapid. The devouring element
-never sits down now to a regular meal--it pitches on a house and
-_bolts_ it.
-
-But I am wandering from the point. The announcement of both Houses of
-Parliament being in flames thrilled through every fibre. It seemed
-to promise what I may call a crowning event to the Conflagrationary
-Reminiscences of an Octogenarian. I snatched up my hat, and rushed into
-the street, at eighty years of age, with the alacrity of eighteen, when
-I ran from Highgate to Horselydown, to be present at the gutting of a
-ship chandler’s. As the bard says--
-
-    “Ev’n in our ashes live their wonted _fires_,”
-
-and I could almost have supposed myself a fireman belonging to the
-Phœnix. My first step into the street discouraged me, the moonlight was
-so brilliant, and in such cases the most splendid blaze is somewhat
-“shorn of its beams.” But a few steps reassured me. Even at the Surrey
-side of the river the sparks and burning particles were falling like
-flakes of snow--I mean of course the red snow formerly discovered by
-Captain Ross, and the light was so great that I could have read the
-small print of the Police Gazette with the greatest ease, only I don’t
-take it in. I of course made the best of my way towards the scene, but
-the crowd was already so dense that I could only attain a situation on
-the Strand opposite Cotton Gardens, up to my knees in mud. Both Houses
-of Parliament were at this time in a blaze, and no doubt presented as
-striking objects of conflagration as the metropolis could offer. I say,
-“no doubt,”--forgetting jammed against a barge with my back towards
-the fire, I am unable to state anything on my own authority as an
-eye-witness, excepting that the buildings on the Surreyside exhibited
-a glowing reflection for some hours. At last the flowing of the tide
-caused the multitude to retreat, and releasing me from my retrospective
-position allowed me to gaze upon the ruins. By what I hear, it was a
-most imposing sight--but in spite of my Lord Althorpe, I cannot help
-thinking that Westminster Hall, with its long range, would have made
-up an admirable fire. Neither can I agree with the many that it was an
-Incendiary Act, that passed through both houses so rapidly. To enjoy
-the thing, a later hour and a darker night would certainly have been
-chosen. Fire-light and moon-light do not _mix well_:--they are best
-_neat_.
-
-    I am, Sir, Yours, &c.,
-    SENEX.
-
-
-_Various Accounts._
-
-WE are concerned to state that Sir Jacob Jubb the new member for Shrops
-was severely burnt, by taking his seat in the House, on a bench that
-was burning under him. The danger of his situation was several times
-pointed out to him, but he replied that his seat had cost him ten
-thousand pounds, and he wouldn’t quit. He was at length removed by
-force.--_Morning Ledger._
-
-A great many foolish anecdotes of the fire are in circulation. One
-of our contemporaries gravely asserts that the Marquis of Culpepper
-was the last person who left the South Turret, a fact we beg leave to
-question, for the exquisite reason that noble lord alluded to is at
-present at Constantinople.--_The Real Sun._
-
-We are enabled to state that the individual who displayed so much
-coolness in the South Turret was Captain Back.--_The Public Journal._
-
-[Illustration: FANCY PORTRAIT:--CAPTAIN BACK.]
-
-It is said that considerable interest was evinced by the members of the
-House of Commons who were present at the fire, as to the fate of their
-respective Bills. One honourable gentleman, in particular, was observed
-anxiously watching the last scintillations of some burnt paper. “Oh, my
-Sabbath Observances!” he exclaimed, “There’s an end of religion! There
-go the Parson and Clerk!”--_Public Diary._
-
-The Earl of M. had a very narrow escape. His lordship was on the point
-of kicking a bucket when a labourer rushed forward and snatched it out
-of the way. The individual’s name is M’Farrel. We understand he is a
-sober, honest, hard-working man, and has two wives, and a numerous
-family; the eldest not above a year old.--_Daily Chronicle._
-
-The exclamation of a noble lord, high in office, who was very active
-at the fire, has been very incorrectly given. The words were as
-follows:--“Blow the Commons! let ’em flare up--but oh,--for a save-all!
-a save-all.”--_Morning News._
-
-The public attention has been greatly excited by the extraordinary
-statement of a commercial gentleman, that he smelt the fire at the Cock
-and Bottle, in Coventry. He asserts that he mentioned the fact in the
-commercial room to a deaf gentleman, and likewise to a dumb waiter, but
-neither have any recollection of the circumstance. He has been examined
-before the Common Council, who have elicited that he actually arrived
-at Coventry on the night in question, by the Tallyho, and the near
-leader of that coach has been sent for by express.--_New Monitor._
-
-We were in error in stating that the Atlas was the first engine at
-the scene of action. So early as five o’clock Mr. Alderman A. arrived
-with his own garden engine, and began immediately to play upon the
-Thames.--_British Guardian._
-
-It must have struck everyone who witnessed the operations in the House
-of Commons, that there was a lamentable want of “order! order! order!”
-A great many gentlemen succeeded in making pumps of themselves, without
-producing any check on the flames. The conduct of the military also was
-far from unexceptionable. On the arrival of the Coldstream at the fire
-they actually refused to fall in. Many declined to stand at ease on the
-burning rafters--but what is the public interest to a private?--_Public
-Advertiser._
-
-
-_Monsieur C.’s Account. (Exclusive.)_
-
-WHEN I am come first to the fire it was not long burnt up; and I was
-oblige to walk up and down the floor to keep myself warm. At last, I
-take my seat on the stove, quite convenient to look about. In the House
-of Commons there was nobody, and I am all alone. The first thing I
-observe was a great many rats, ratting about--but they did not known
-which way to turn. So they were all burnt dead. The flames grew very
-fast; and I am interested very much with the seats, how they burned,
-quite different from one another. Some seats made what you call a great
-splutter, and popped and bounced, and some other seats made no noise
-at all. Mr. Bulwer’s place burned of a blue colour; Mr. Buckstone’s
-turned quite black; and there was one made a flame the colour of a
-drab. I observe one green flame and one orange, side by side, and they
-hiss and roar at one another very furious. The gallery cleared itself
-quite quickly, and the seat of Messieurs the reporters, exploded itself
-like a cannon of forty-eight pounds. The speaking chair burnt without
-any sound at all.
-
-When everything is quite done in the Commons I leave them off, and go
-to the House of Lords, where the fire was all in one sheet, and almost
-the whole of its inside burnt out. I was able in this room to take
-off my great coat. I could find nothing to be saved except one great
-ink-stand, that was red hot, and which I carry away in my two hands.
-Likewise here, as well as in the Commons, I bottled up several bottles
-of smoke, to distribute afterwards, at five guineas a-piece, and may be
-more; for I know the English people admire such things, and are fond
-after reliques, like a madness almost. I did not make a long stop, for
-whenever I was visible, the pompiers was so foolish as play water upon
-me, and I was afraid of a catch-cold. In fact, when I arrive at home,
-I find myself stuffed in my head, and fast in my chest, and my throat
-was a little horse. I am going for it into a bath of boiling water, and
-cannot write any more at full length.
-
-
-_A Letter to a Labouring Man._
-
-    BUSHELL,
-
-When you made a holiday last Whitsuntide to see the Sights of London,
-in your way to the Waxwork and Westminster Abbey, you probably noticed
-a vast pile of buildings in Palace Yard, and you stood and scratched
-that shock head of yours, and wondered whose fine houses they were.
-Seeing you to be a country clodpole, no doubt some well-dressed
-vagabond, by way of putting a hoax upon the hawbuck, told you that in
-those buildings congregated all the talent, all the integrity and
-public spirit of the country--that beneath those roofs the best and
-wisest, and the most honest men to be found in three kingdoms, met
-to deliberate and enact the most wholesome, and just, and judicious
-laws for the good of the nation. He called them the oracles of our
-constitution, the guardians of our rights, and the assertors of our
-liberties. Of course, Bushell, you were told all this; but nobody told
-you, I dare say, that within those walls your master had lifted up his
-voice, and delivered the only sound, rational, and wholesome, upright,
-and able speeches that were ever uttered in St. Stephen’s Chapel. No,
-nobody told you that. But when I come home, Bushell, I will lend you
-all my printed speeches, and when you have spelt them, and read them,
-and studied them, and got them by heart, bumpkin as you are, Bushell,
-you will know as much of legislation as all our precious members
-together.
-
-[Illustration: “OUR CONSTITUTION’S GONE!”]
-
-Well, Bushell, the fine houses you stood gaping at are burnt down,
-gutted, as the vulgar call it, and nothing is left but the bare walls.
-You saw Farmer Gubbins’ house, or, at least, the shell of it, after
-the fire there: well, the Parliament Houses are exactly in the same
-state. There is news for you! and now, Bushell, how do you feel? Why,
-if the well-dressed vagabond told you the truth, you feel as if you had
-had a stroke--for all the British Constitution is affected, and you
-are a fraction of it, that is to say, a British subject. Your bacon
-grows rusty in your mouth, and your table-beer turns to vinegar on your
-palate. You cannot sleep at night, or work by day. You have no heart
-for anything. You can hardly drag one clouted shoe after another. And
-how do you look? Why, as pale as a parsnip, and as thin as a hurdle,
-and your carroty locks stand bolt upright as if you had just met old
-Lawson’s ghost with his head under his arm. I say thus you must feel
-and look, Bushell, if what the well-dressed vagabond told you is the
-truth. But is that the case? No. You drink your small-beer with a sigh
-and smack of delight; and you bolt your bacon with a relish, as if, as
-the virtuous Americans say, you could “go the whole hog.” Your clouted
-shoes clatter about as if you were counting hobnails with the Lord
-Mayor, and you work like a young horse, or an old ass, and at night
-you snore like an oratorio of jews’ harps. Your face is as bold and
-ruddy as the Red Lion’s. Your carroty locks lie sleek upon your poll,
-and as for poor old Lawson’s ghost, you could lend him flesh and blood
-enough to set him up again in life. But what, say you, does all this
-tend to? I will tell you, Bushell. There are a great many well-dressed
-vagabonds, besides the one you met in Palace Yard, who would persuade
-a poor man that a House of Lords or Commons is as good to him as his
-bread, beer, beef, bacon, bed, and breeches; and therefore I address
-this to you, Bushell, to set such notions to rights by an appeal to
-your own back and belly. And now I will tell you what you shall do. You
-shall go three nights a week to the Red Lion (when your work is done),
-and you may score up a pint of beer, at my cost, each time. And when
-the parson, or the exciseman, or the tax-gatherer, or any such gentry,
-begin to talk of that deplorable great burning, and the national
-calamity, and such-like trash, you shall pull out my letter and read
-to them--I say, Bushell, you shall read this letter to them, twice
-over, loudly and distinctly, and tell them from me, that the burning of
-twenty Parliament Houses wouldn’t be such a national calamity as a fire
-at No. 1, Bolt Court.
-
-
-PRIVATE CORRESPONDENCE.
-
-_To Mary Price, Fenny Hall, Lincolnshire._
-
-O Mary,--I am writing in such a quiver, with my art in my mouth, and
-my tung sticking to it. For too hole hours Ive bean Doin nothink but
-taking on and going off, I mean into fits, or crying and blessing
-goodness for my miraclus escape. This day week I wear inwallopped in
-flams, and thinkin of roth to cum, and fire evverlasting. But thenks
-to Diving Providings, hear I am, althowgh with loss of wan high brew
-scotched off, a noo cap and my rite shew. But I hav bean terrifid to
-deth. Wen I was ate, or it mite be nine, I fell on the stow, and hav
-had a grate dred of fire evver since. Gudge then how low I felt at the
-idear of burning along with the Lords and Communer’s. It as bean a
-Warnin, and never, no, never never never agin will I go to Clandestiny
-parties behind Mississis backs. I now see my errer, but temtashun
-prevaled, tho the clovin fut of the Wicked Wan had a hand in it all:
-Oh Mary, down on yure marrybones, and bless yure stars for sitiating
-you in a loanly stooped poky place, wear you cant be lead into liteness
-and gayty, if you was evver so inclind. Fore wipping willies and a
-windmill is a dullish luck out, shure enuff, but its better then moor
-ambishus prospex, and stairing at a grate fire, like a suckin pig, till
-yure eyes is reddy to drop out of yure hed!
-
-[Illustration: “WHY DON’T THE MEN PROPOSE?”]
-
-You no wen Lady Manners is absent, a certin person allways givs a good
-rowt:--and I had a card in Coarse. I went verry ginteel, my Cloke cost
-I wont say Wot, and a hat and fethers to match. But it warnt to be.
-After takin off my things, I had barely set down, wen at the front
-dore there cums a dubble nock without any end to it, and a ring of the
-bell at the saim time, like a triangle keepin cumpany with a big drum.
-As soon as the door were opened a man with a pail face asked for the
-buckits, and that was the fust news we had of the fire. Oh Mary, never
-trust to the mail sects! They are all Alick from the Botcher and Backer
-that flurts at the front dore, down to the deer dissevers you throw
-away yure arts upon. For all their fine purfessions, they are only
-filling your ears with picrust, they make trifles of yure afections,
-and destroy yure comfits for life. They think no moore of parjuring
-themselvs then I do of sweeping the earth. If yure wise you will sit
-yure face agin all menkind and luv nonsense, as I meen to in futer,
-or may be, wen you are dreeming of brid cake and wite fevers, you may
-find yureself left with nothink but breeches of prommis. John Futman
-is a proof in pint. Menny tims Ive give him a hiding at number fore,
-and he allways had the best of the lardur at our stolin meatings, and
-God nose Ive offun alloud him to idelize me wen I ort to have bean at
-my wurks, besides larning to rite for his sack. Twenty housis afire
-ort not to hav abaited his warmth, insted of witch to jump up at the
-fust allurm and run away, leaving me to make my hone shifts. A treu
-luver wood have staid to shear my fat. O Mary, if ever there was a
-terryfickle spectikle that was won. Flams before and flams behind,
-and flams overhead. Sich axing and hollowing out, and mobbing and
-pumpin, and cussing and swaring, and the peple’s rushes into the Hous
-purvented all gitting out. For my hone parts, I climed up the dresser,
-and skreeked, but nobbody was man enuff to purtect. Men ant what they
-was. I am sick of the retches! It used to be femails fust, but now its
-furniter. I fully thort one gintleman was comin to cotch me up in arms,
-but he prefered the fish kettle. As for the sogers they marcht off to
-the wind seller and the pantry, ware they maid beleave to preserve
-the gusberry gam. How I was reskewd at last Lord nose, for my hed was
-unsensible tell I found meself setten on the pickid pinted ralings of
-St. Margret’s Church, with my fethers all frizzild, and a shew off. But
-of all lossis, my ridicule was most serius, for it had my puss in it.
-
-How and ware it broke out is a mistery. Sum say both Howses was under
-minded. Sum say the Common members got over heatid in there fluency.
-A grate deal of property was burned, in spit of Lord Allthorp,
-who ingaged every cotch, cab, and gobbing porter as conveyancers.
-Westmunster may thenk his Lordship it did not lose its All. They say
-the Lords and Communs was connectid with a grate menny historicle
-associashuns, wich of coarse will hav to make good all dammage.
-
-Fortnately, the Speker’s mornin, noon, and evning services of plait was
-not at home, or it mite hav sufferd, for they say goold and silver as
-stud the fire verry well, melted down when it got furthur off. Tauking
-of plait a gentilman, who giv his card, Mr. William Soames, were verry
-kind and partickler in his inquerries efter Mr. Speker’s vallybles. I
-hope he will hav a place givn him for his indevvers.
-
-Ware the poor burnt-out creturs will go noboddy nose. Sum say Exter
-Hall, sum say the Refudge for the Destitut, and sum say the King will
-lend them his Bensh to set upon! All I no is, I’ve had a frite that
-will go with me to my grave. I am allways snifing fire by day and
-dreeming on it by nite. Ony last Fryday I allarmd the hole naberhood by
-screaching out of winder for the warter to be plugged up. Liting fires,
-or striking lite, or making tindur, throes me into fits.
-
-[Illustration: A REFINED WOMAN.]
-
-I shall nevver be the womman I was; but that is no excus for John’s
-unconstancy. I don’t dare to take my close off to go to bed, and I
-practice clambering up and down by a rop in case, and I giv police M
-25 a shillin now and than to keep a specious eye to number fore, and
-be reddy to ketch anny won in his harms. But it cums to munny, and
-particly givin the ingin keeper a pint of bear from time to time,
-and drams to the turncox: where there’s nabers fires will happen,
-howevver cerefull and precocius you may be youreself. I dred our too
-nex dores; number three is a Gurmin fammily, and them orrid forriners
-think nothink of smocking siggars in bed, witch will ketch sum day to
-a curtainty. Number fiv is wus; since his wif’s deth Mr. Sanders has
-betuck himself to comicle studis, and offin has a littel blo up amung
-his pistles and morters. O! Mary, how happy is them as livs lick you,
-as the song says, “Fur from the buzzy aunts of men.” If yu’re inflamd
-its nobbody’s folt but youre hone. Pray take the gratest car. Have sure
-eyes about you, and luck out for sparks; watever the men may say, don’t
-allow backerpips or long snufs, and let evvery boddy be thurrowly put
-out. Don’t neglect to rake out evvery nite, see that evvery sole in
-the hows is turnd down or xtinguished, and allways blo yureself out
-befour you go to yure piller. Thenk gudness you nevver larnd to reed,
-and therefor will not take anny bucks to bed with you. Allways ware
-stuff or woollin, insted of lite cottons and gingums, in case of the
-coles throwin out coffens or pusses, by witch munny persons gains their
-ends. In case of yure pettycots catchin don’t forgit standin on yure
-hed, as recommended by the Human Society, becoz fire burns uppards,
-but its a posishun as requiers practis. Have yure chimbly swept reglar
-wonce a munth, and wen visiters cum neveer put hot coles in the warmin
-pan, for fear you forgit and leave it in the spair bed. Remember fire
-is a good sarvent but a bad master, and sure enuff wen it is master it
-never gives a sarvent a munth’s notis. To be shure we have won marsy
-in town that is unbenone in the country, and that is Swingeing; there
-is no cornstax or heyrix in St. Jims’s Square. That is yure week pint,
-and I trembil for the barns; a rockite or a roaming candle mite set you
-in a blaze. But I hop and trust wat I say will never pruve the truth.
-Oppydildock is good for burns, and I am, dear Mary,
-
-    Yure old and afexionate feller sarvent,
-    ANN GALE.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: THE SWELL MOB.]
-
-
-
-
-THE JUBB LETTERS.
-
-
-_From Lady Jubb to Mrs. Phipps, Housekeeper at the Shrubbery,
-Shrewsbury, Shrops._
-
-    MRS. PHIPPS,
-
-You will prepare the house directly for the family’s return, not that
-our coming back is absolutely certain, but events have happened to
-render our stay in Portland Place very precarious. All depends upon
-Sir Jacob. In Parliament or out of Parliament his motions must guide
-ours. By this time what has happened will be known in Shropshire, but I
-forbid your talking. Politics belong to people of property, and those
-who have no voice in the country ought not to speak. In your inferior
-situations it’s a duty to be ignorant of what you know. The nation is
-out of your sphere, and besides, people out of town cannot know the
-state of the country. I want to put you on your guard; thanks to the
-press, as Sir Jacob says, public affairs cannot be kept private, and
-the consequence is, the ignorant are as well informed as their betters.
-The burning of both Houses of Parliament I am afraid cannot be hushed
-up--but it is not a subject for servants, that have neither upper nor
-lower members amongst them, and represent nobody. I trust to you, Mrs.
-Phipps, to discourage all discussions in the kitchen, which isn’t the
-place for parliamentary canvassing. The most ridiculous notions are
-abroad. I should not be surprised even to hear that Sir Jacob had lost
-his seat, because the benches were burnt, but we have been deprived
-of none of our dignities or privileges. You will observe this letter
-is _franked_; the fire made no difference to your master, he is not
-dissolved, whatever the Blues may wish--he is still Sir Jacob Jubb,
-Baronet, M.P.
-
-[Illustration: THE LIGHT HORSE.]
-
-The election of Sir Jacob at such a crisis was an act of Providence.
-His firmness at the fire affords an example to posterity; although
-the bench was burning under him he refused to retreat, replying
-emphatically, “I will sit by my order.” As far as this goes you may
-mention, and no more. I enjoin upon all else a diplomatic silence. Sir
-Jacob himself will write to the bailiff, and whatever may be the nature
-of his directions, I desire that no curiosity may be indulged in, and
-above all, that you entertain no opinions of your own. You cannot
-square with the upper circles. I would write more, but I am going to
-a meeting, I need not say where, or upon what subject. I rely, Mrs.
-Phipps, on your discretion, and am, &c.,
-
-    ARABELLA ANASTASIA JUBB.
-
-
-_To T. Crawfurd, junior, Esquire, the Beeches, near Shrewsbury, Shrops._
-
-    DEAR TOM,
-
-Throw up your cap and huzza. There’s glorious news, and so you’ll say
-when I tell you. I could almost jump out of my skin for joy! Father’s
-dismembered! The House of Commons caught fire, and he was dissolved
-along with the rest.
-
-[Illustration: “THE LAST DAYS OF POMP--.”]
-
-I’ve never been happy since we came up to London, and all through
-Parliament. The election was good sport enough. I liked the riding up
-and down, and carrying a flag; and the battle, with sticks, between
-the Blues and the Yellows, was famous fun; and I huzza’d myself hoarse
-at our getting the day at last. But after that came the jollup, as we
-used to say at Old Busby’s. Theme writing was a fool to it. If father
-composed one maiden speech he composed a hundred, and he made me
-knuckle down and copy them all out, and precious stupid stuff it was. A
-regular physicker, says you, and I’d worse to take after it. He made us
-all sit down and hear him spout them, and a poor stick he made.--Dick
-Willis, that we used to call Handpost, was a dab at it compared to him.
-He’s no better hand at figures, so much the worse for me. Did you ever
-have a fag, Tom, at the national debt? I don’t know who owes it, but I
-wish he’d pay it, or be made bankrupt at once. I’ve worked more sums
-last month than ever I did at school in the half year,--geography the
-same. I had to hunt out Don Carlos and Don Pedro, all over the maps. I
-came in for a regular wigging one day, for wishing both the Dons were
-well peppered, as Tom Tough says. I’ve seen none of the sights I wanted
-to see. He wouldn’t let me go to the play, because he says the theatres
-are bad schools, and would give me a vicious style of elocution. The
-only pleasure he promised me was to sit in the gallery at the Commons
-and see him present his petitions. Short-hand would have come next,
-that I might take down his speechifying--for he says the reporters all
-garble. An’t I well out of it all--and a place he was to get for me
-besides, from the Prime Minister? I suppose the Navy Pay, to sit on a
-high stool and give Jack Junk one pound two and ninepence twice a year.
-I’d rather be Jack Junk himself, wouldn’t you, Tom? But father’s lost
-his wicket, and huzza for Shropshire! In hopes of our soon meeting, I
-remain, my dear Tom,
-
-    Your old chum and schoolfellow,
-    FREDERICK JUBB.
-
-P.S.--A court gentleman has just come in, with a knock-me-down-again.
-He says there’s to be a new election. I wish you’d do something; it
-would be a real favour, and I will do as much for you another time.
-What I want of you is, to get your father to set up against mine. Do
-try, Tom--there’s a good fellow. I will ask every body I know to give
-your side a plumper.
-
-[Illustration: AN ADDER UP.]
-
-
-_To Mr. Roger Davis, Bailiff, the Shrubbery, near Shrewsbury._
-
-    DAVIS,
-
-I hope to God this will find you at home--I am writing in a state
-of mind bordering on madness. I can’t collect myself to give
-particulars--you will have a newspaper along with this--read that,
-and your hair will stand on end. Incendiarism has reached its height
-like the flaming thing on the top of the Monument. Our crisis is come.
-To my mind--political suicide--is as bad as felo de se. Oh Whigs,
-Whigs, Whigs--what have you brought us to! As the Britannic Guardian
-well says--England is gone to Italy--London is at Naples--and we are
-all standing on the top of Vesuvius. I have heard--and I believe
-it--that an attempt has been made to choke Aldgate Pump. A Waltham
-Abbey paper says positively that the mills were recently robbed of 513
-barrels of powder, the exact number of the members for England and
-Wales. What a diabolical refinement--to blow up a government with its
-own powder! I can hardly persuade myself I am in England. God knows
-where it will spread to--I mean the incendiary spirit. The dry season
-is frightful--I suppose the springs are all dry. Keep the engine
-locked in the stable for fear of a cut at the pipes. I’ll send you
-down two more. Let all the labourers take a turn at them, by way of
-practice. I’m persuaded the Parliament houses were burnt on purpose.
-The flue story is ridiculous. Mr. Cooper’s is a great deal more to the
-point. I believe everything I hear. A bunch of matches was found in
-the Speaker’s kitchen. I saw something suspicious myself--some said
-treacle, but I say tar. Have your eyes about you--lock all the gates,
-day as well as night--and above all, watch the stacks. One Tiger is not
-enough--get three or four more, I should have said Cæsar, but you know
-I mean the house-dog. Good mastiffs,--the biggest and savagest you can
-get. The gentry will be attempted first--beginning with the M.P.’s.
-You and Barnes and Sam must sit up by turns--and let the maids sit up
-too--women have sharp ears and sharp tongues.--If a mouse stirs I would
-have them squall--danger or no danger. It’s the only way to sleep in
-security--and comfort. I have read that the common goose is a vigilant
-creature--and saved Rome. Get a score of them at the next market--don’t
-stand about price--but choose them with good cackles. Alarm them now
-and then to keep them watchful, Fire the blunderbuss off every night,
-and both fowling pieces and all the pistols. If all the Gentry did
-as much, it might keep the country quiet. If you were to ring the
-alarm-bell once or twice in the middle of the night, it would be as
-well--you would know then what help to depend upon. Search the house
-often from the garret to the cellar, for combustibles--if you could
-manage to go without candles, or any sort of light, it would be better.
-
-[Illustration: THE MOVEMENT PARTY.]
-
-You’d find your way about in the dark after a little practice. Pray
-don’t allow any sweethearts; they may be Swings and Captain Rocks in
-disguise, and their pretended flames turn out real. I’ve misgivings
-about the maids. Tie them up and taste their liver, before they eat
-it themselves--I mean the house-dogs; but my agitation makes me
-unconnected. The scoundrels often poison them, before they attempt
-robbery and arson. Keep the cattle in the cowhouse for fear of their
-being houghed and hamstrung. Surely there were great defects somewhere.
-The Houses could not have been properly protected--if they had been
-watched as well as they were lighted--but it is too late to cast any
-blame on individuals. A paltry spirit of economy has been our bane. A
-few shillings would have purchased a watch-dog; and one or two geese in
-each house might have saved the capitol of the constitution! But the
-incendiary knew how to choose his time--an adjournment when there were
-none sitting.
-
-I say incendiary, because no doubt can exist in any cool mind, that
-enters into the conflagration. I transcribe conclusive extracts from
-several papers, the editors of which I know to be upright men, and they
-all write on one side.
-
-“We are confidently informed,” says the Beacon, “that a quantity of
-tar-barrels was purchased at No. 2, High-street, Shadwell, about ten
-o’clock on the morning of the fire. There was abundant time before six
-a.m., for removing the combustibles to Westminster. The purchaser was a
-short, squat, down-looking man, and the name on his cart was I. Burns.”
-
-“Trifling circumstances,” says the Sentinel, “sometimes point to great
-results. Our own opinion is formed. We have made it our business to
-examine the Guys in preparation for the impending anniversary of the
-Gunpowder Plot, and we affirm that every one of the effigies bore a
-striking resemblance to some member or other of assemblies we need not
-name. These are signs of the times.”
-
-“We should be loth,” says the Detector, “to impute the late calamity to
-any particular party: but we may reasonably inquire what relative stake
-in the country is possessed by the Whigs and the Tories. The English
-language may be taken as a fair standard. The first may lay claim to
-perri-_wig_, scratch-_wig_, tie-_wig_, bob-_wig_, in short, the whole
-family of the perruques, with _whig_-maleery. The latter, not to
-mention other good things, have a vested right in ora_tory_, his_tory_,
-terri_tory_, and vic_tory_. Can a man of common patriotism have a doubt
-which side it is his interest to adhere to?”
-
-[Illustration: “WHEN SHALL WE THREE MEET AGAIN?”]
-
-That last paragraph, Davis, is what I call sound argument. Indeed I
-don’t see how it is to be answered. You see they are all nem. con.
-as to our danger, and decidedly reckon fire an inflammatory agent.
-Take care what you read. Very pernicious doctrines are abroad, and
-especially across the Western Channel. The Irish are really frightful.
-I’m told they tie the cows’ tails together, and then saw off their
-horns for insurrectionary bugles. The foundations of society are
-shaken all over the world--the Whiteboys in Ireland, and the Blacks
-in the West Indies, all seem to fight under the same colours. It’s
-time for honest men to rally round themselves--but I’m sorry to say
-public spirit and love of one’s country are at a low ebb. There’s too
-much Americanism. One writer wants us to turn all our English wheat
-to Indian corn, and to grow no sort of apples but Franklin pippins.
-We want strong measures against associations and unions. There’s
-demagogues abroad--and they wear white hats. By-the-bye, I more
-than half suspect that fellow Johnson is a delegate. Take him to the
-ale-house, and treat him freely--it may warm him to blab something.
-Besides, you will see what sort of papers the public-houses take in.
-You may drop a hint about their licenses. Give my compliments to Dr.
-Garratt, and tell him I hope he will preach to the times, and take
-strong texts. I wish I could be down amongst you, but I cannot desert
-my post. You may tell the tenantry, and electors--I’m burnt out and
-gutted--but my heart’s in the right place--and devoted to constituents.
-Come what may, I will be an unshaken pillar on the basis of my circular
-letter. Don’t forget any of my precautions. I am sorry I did not bring
-all the plate up to town--but at the first alarm bury it. Take in no
-letters or notices; for what you know they may be threatenings. If
-any Irishman applies for work, discharge him instantly. All the old
-spring-guns had better be set again, they are not now legal, but I am
-ministerial, and if they did go off, the higher powers would perhaps
-wink at them. But it’s fire that I am afraid of, fire that destroyed
-my political roof, and may now assail my paternal one. Walk, as I may
-say, bucket in hand, and be ready every moment for a break out. You
-may set fire to the small faggot stack, and try your hands at getting
-it under--there’s nothing worse than being taken by surprise. Read
-this letter frequently, and impress these charges on your mind. It
-is a sad change for England to have become, I may say, this fiery
-furnace. I have not the least doubt, if properly traced, the burning
-cliff at Weymouth would be found to be connected with Incendiarism, and
-the Earthquakes at Chichester with our political convulsions. Thank
-Providence in your prayers, Davis, that your own station forbids your
-being an M.P., for a place in parliament is little better than sitting
-on a barrel of gunpowder. Honour forbids to resign, or I should wish I
-was nothing but a simple country gentleman. Remember, and be vigilant.
-Once more I cry Watch, Watch, Watch! By adopting the motions I propose,
-a conflagration may be adjourned sine die, which is a petition
-perpetually presented by
-
-    Your anxious but uncompromising Master,
-    JACOB JUBB, M.P.
-
-
-_To Lady Jubb, at 45, Portland Place._
-
-    RESPECTED MADAM,
-
-I received your Ladyship’s obliging commands, and have used my best
-endeavours to conform to the wishes condescended therein. In respect
-to political controversy, I beg to say I have imposed a tacit silence
-on the domestic capacities as far as within the sphere of my control,
-but lament to say the Bailiff, Mr. Davis, is a party unamenable to
-my authority, and as such has taken liberties with decorum quite
-unconsistent with propriety and the decency due. However reluctant
-to censoriousness, duty compels to communicate subversive conduct
-quite unconformable to decency’s rules and order in a well-regulated
-establishment. I allude to Mr. Davis’s terrifically jumping out from
-behind doors and in obscure dark corners, on the female domestics, for
-no reasonable purpose I can discover, except to make them exert their
-voices in a very alarming manner. The housemaid, indeed, confirms me
-by saying in her own words, “he considered her skreek the best skreek
-in the family.” If impropriety had proceeded no further, I should have
-hesitated to trouble your Ladyship with particulars; but Mr. Davis,
-not satisfied with thus working on the unsophisticated terrors of
-ignorant females, thought proper to horrify with inflammatory reports.
-
-[Illustration: A MARKED MAN.]
-
-[Illustration: WAPPING OLD STARES.]
-
-One night, as a prominent instance, about twelve o’clock, he rang the
-alarm bell so violently, at the same time proclaiming conflagration,
-that the law of preservation became our paramount duty, and, as a
-consequence, we all escaped in a state of dishabille only to be
-ambiguously hinted at, by saying that time did not allow to put on my
-best lutestring to meet the neighbouring gentry--and must add, with
-indignation, in the full blaze of a heap of straw, thought proper to
-be set on fire by Mr. Davis in the fore-court. I trust your Ladyship
-will excuse a little warmth of language, in saying it was highly
-reprehensible; but I have not depictured the worst. I, one evening,
-lighted up what I conceived to be a mould candle, and your Ladyship
-will imagine my undescribable fright when it exploded itself like a
-missile of the squib description, an unwarrantable mode, I must say,
-of convincing me, as Mr. Davis had the audaciousness to own to,
-that we may be made to be actors in our own combustion. To suppose
-at my years and experience, I can be unsensible of the danger of
-fire, must be a preposterous notion; but all his subsequent acts
-partake an agreeable character. For fear of being consumed in our
-beds, as he insidiously professed, he exerted all his influential
-arguments to persuade the females to set up nocturnally all night,
-a precaution of course declined, as well as his following scheme,
-being almost too much broached with absurdity to enumerate. I mean
-every retiring female reposing her confidence on a live goose in her
-chamber, as were purchased for the express purpose, but need not add
-were dispensed with by rational beings. I trust your ladyship will
-acquit of uncharitableness if I suspect it was out of vindictive
-feelings at their opposition to the geese that Mr. Davis insinuated a
-strict inquiry into every individual that came into the house, as far
-even as requiring to be personally present at all that passed between
-the dairymaid and her cousin. It escaped memory to say that when the
-feminine department refused to be deprived of rest, the male servants
-were equally adverse to go to bed, being spirited up by Mr. Davis to
-spend the night together, and likewise being furnished with the best
-strong ale in the cellar by his imperious directions, which, by way of
-climax to assurance, was alleged to be by order of Sir Jacob himself.
-I say nothing reflectively on his repeatedly discharging his artillery
-at unseasonable hours, the shock principally concerning my own nervous
-constitution, which was so vibrated as to require calling in physical
-powers: and Doctor Tudor, considering advanced age and infirmity, is
-of opinion I may require to be under his professional hands for an
-ensuing twelvemonth. Of startling effects upon other parties I may
-make comments more unreserved, and without harsh extenuation must
-say, his letting off reports without due notice, frequently when the
-females had valuable cut glass and china in their hands, or on their
-trays, was blamable in the extreme, to express the least of it. Another
-feature which caused much unpleasantness, was Mr. Davis persisting to
-scrutinise and rummage the entire premises from top to bottom, but on
-this characteristic tediousness forbids to dwell, and more particularly
-as mainly affecting himself, such as the flow of blood from his nose,
-and two coagulated eyes, from the cellar door, through a peculiar
-whim of looking for every thing in a state of absolute obscurity. I
-may add, by way of incident, that Mr. Davis walks lame from a canine
-injury in the calf of his leg, which I hope will not prove rabid in the
-end,--but the animals he has on his own responsibility introduced on
-the premises, really resemble, begging your Ladyship’s pardon for the
-expression, what are denominated D.’s incarnate.
-
-Such, your Ladyship, is the unpropitious posture of domestic affairs
-at the Shrubbery, originating, I must say, exclusively from the
-unprecedented deviations of Mr. Davis. A mild construction would infer,
-from such extraordinary extravagance of conduct, a flightiness, or
-aberration of mind in the individual, but I deeply lament to say a
-more obvious cause exists to put a negative on such a surmise. For
-the last week Mr. Davis has betrayed an unusual propensity to pass
-his evenings at the George Tavern, and in consequence has several
-times exhibited himself in a Bacchanalian character to our extreme
-discomforture, and on one occasion actually trespassed so far beyond
-the bounds of modesty, as to offer me the rudeness of a salute. I
-blush to impart such details to your Ladyship; but justice demands an
-explicit statement, however repulsive to violated reserve and the rules
-of virtue. Amongst less immoral actions, I must advert to the arrival
-of two new engines with a vast number of leathern buckets, I fear
-ordered by Mr. Davis at my honoured master’s expense, and which are
-periodically exercised in pumping every day, by the gardeners and the
-hinds, being induced thereto by extra beverages of strong beer. By such
-means the aquatic supply of the well is frequently exhausted by playing
-upon nothing,--and at this present moment I am justified in stating we
-have not sufficient water to fulfil culinary purposes, or the demands
-of cleanliness. I feel ashamed to say there is not a strictly clean cap
-in the whole household.
-
-[Illustration: THE UNITED SERVICE.]
-
-In short, Madam, we labour under an aggravated complication of
-insubordination, deprivation, discomfort, and alarm, daily and nightly,
-such as to shock my eyes whilst it grieves my heart, and I may almost
-say turns my head to be present at, without sufficient authority to
-dictate or power to enforce a course more consistent with the line of
-rectitude. As my sway does not extend to Mr. Davis, I humbly beseech
-your Ladyship’s interference and influence in the proper quarter,
-in behalf, I may say, of a body of persecuted females, some of whom
-possess cultivated minds and sensitive feelings beyond their sphere.
-
-    I remain, respected Madam,
-    Your Ladyship’s most obliged and very humble Servant,
-    AMELIA PHIPPS.
-
-P.S.--One of Mr. Davis’s savage bull-baiting dogs has just rushed with
-a frightful crash into the china-closet, in pursuit of the poor cat.
-
-
-_To Sir Jacob Jubb, Baronet, M.P._
-
-    HONNERD SUR,
-
-Yure faver enclosin the Ruings of the Parlimint houses cam dully to
-hand, and did indeed put up all the hares on my hed. It cam like the
-bust of a thunder bolt. You mite hav nockt me down with the fether of a
-ginny ren. My bran swum. I seamed rooted to the hearth--and did not no
-weather I was a slip or a wack, on my hed or my heals. I was perfecly
-unconshunable, and could no more kollect meself then the Hirish tiths.
-I was a long Tim befor I cud perswade meself that the trooth was trew.
-But sich a dredful fire is enuff to unsettil wons resin. A thowsend
-ears mite role over our heds, and not prodeuce sich a blo to the
-constitushun. I was barley sensible. The Currier dropt from my hands
-wen I cam to the perrygraft witch says “Our hops are at an end. The
-Hous of Communs is a boddy of Flams, and so is the Hous of Pears! The
-Lords will be dun!”
-
-[Illustration: GENERAL ELECTION.]
-
-Honnerd Sur, I beg to kondole as becums on yure missin yure seat. It
-must have bean the suddinest of shox, & jest wen goin to sit after
-standin for the hole county, on yure hone futting, at your sole
-expens. But I do hop and trust it will not be yure dissolushun, as sum
-report; I do hop it is onely an emty rummer pict up at sum publick
-Hous. At such an encindery crisus our wust frend wood be General
-Elixion, by stirrin up inflametory peple, particly if there was a
-long pole. You see, Sir Jacob, I konker in evvery sentashus sentemint
-in yure respected Letter. The Volkano you menshun I can enter into.
-Theres a great deal of combustibul sperits in the country that onely
-wants a spark to convart them into catarax:--and I greave to say evvery
-inflammetory little demy Gog is nust, and has the caudle support of
-certin pappers. Im alludin to the Press. From this sort of countenins
-the nashunal aspec gits moor friteful evvery day. I see no prospex for
-the next gennerashun but rocking and swinging. I hav had a grate menny
-low thorts, for wat can be moor dispiritin then the loss of our two
-gratest Publick Housis! There is nothin cumfortable. There is a Vesuvus
-under our feat, and evvery step brings us nearer to its brinks. Evvery
-reflective man must say we are a virgin on a precipus.
-
-Honnerd Sur! In the mean tim I hav pade atenshuns to yure letter, and
-studid its epistlery derecshuns, witch I hav made meself very particler
-in fulfiling to the utmost xtent. If the most zellus effuts have not
-sucksedid to wish I humbly beg to blame but wat is dew may fall on me,
-and hope other peples shears will visit their hone heds. The axident
-with the spring gun was no neglex of mine. After Barnes settin it
-himself, his tumblin over the wier must be lade to his hone dore along
-with his shot legs. I sent for two surgings to sea to him, and they
-cauld in too moor, so that he is certin of a good dressin, but he was
-very down-harted about gitting a livin, till I tolled him yure honner
-wood settle on him for the rest of his days. I may say the lik of the
-other axident to Sanders and Sam, who got badly woundid wile wotchin
-the stax, by apprehendin won another after a sanguine conflic by
-mistake for incinderies. I have promist in yure honners nam to reword
-them boath hansumly for their vigilings, but they stedfistly refus
-to padrol anny moor after dusk, tho they ar agreble by daylit, which
-leavs me at my whits ends for Firegards, as strange men wood not be
-trusswurthy.
-
-Honnered Sur--I am sorry I cood not git the mad servents to set up
-for theaves, even for wun nite runnin. I tried the Currier on them,
-but it didn’t wurk on there minds; they tuck lites in their hands and
-waukd to there pillers as if they hadn’t a car on there heds, and wen
-I insistid on their allarmin me they all give me warnin. As for the
-swetharts there’s a duzzen domesticatted luvers in the kitchen, and
-I’m sorry to say I can’t give them all a rowt. I ketchd the cook’s bo
-gettin in at a winder, and sercht his pockets for feer of fosfrus, but
-he contaned nothin xcept a cruckid sixpens, a taler’s thimbel, and a
-tin backy-box, with a lock of hare witch did not match with cook’s. It
-is dangerus wurk. Becus I luck after the mades candels they tie strings
-to the banesters to ketch my fut, and I have twice pitcht from the
-hed to the futt of the stars. I am riting with my forrid brandid and
-brown pepperd, and my rite hand in a poltus from gropping in the dark
-for cumbustibils in the cole seller, and diskivering nothin but the
-torturous kat and her kittings.
-
-[Illustration: “TWO HEADS ARE BETTER THAN ONE.”]
-
-Honnerd Sur--I got six capitol gees a bargin, but am verry dubbius
-weather they possess the propperty that ort to make them wakful and
-weary of nites. The old specious may be lost. The Roman gees you
-menshun wood certinly hav nevver sufferd themselves to be stolen
-without a cakeling, as our hone did too nites ago. As for the wotch
-dogs, to be candied, they were all errors in gudgment. There was to
-much Bul in the bread. The verry fust nite they were let lose they flew
-in a rag, and began to vent their caning propensities on each other’s
-curcases. I regret to say too was wurrid to deth before the next
-mourning, and the rest were so full of bad bits and ingeries in there
-vitties they were obligated to be kild. In shutting Seazer with the
-blunderbush, I lament to ad it hung fire, and in liftin it up it went
-off of its hone hed and shot the bucher’s horse at the gait, and he has
-thretind to tak the law if he isn’t made good, as he was verry vallyble.
-
-Honnerd Sur--Accordin to orders I tuck Johnson the suspishus man evvery
-nite to the Gorge, and told him to caul for wat he likt, witch was
-allways an ot suppir and Punch. As yet he as diskivered nothin but sum
-lov nonsins about a deary-made, so that its uncertin weather he is a
-dillygate or not; but I shood say a desinin won, for by sum artful
-meens he allways manniged to make me drunk fust, and gennerally lent
-a hand to carry me home. I told the landlord to let him have aney
-thing he wantid and yure Honner wood pay the skore, but I think it was
-unprudent of Mr. Tapper to let him run up to ten pound. But it isn’t
-all drink, but eating as well--Johnson has a very glutinous appetit,
-and always stix to the tabel as long as there is meet.
-
-Honnerd Sur--Last fridy morning there was grate riotism and sines of
-the populus risin, and accordin I lost no time in berryin the plait as
-derected by yure ordirs. I am gratifid to say the disturbans turned out
-onely a puggleistical fit; but owen to our hurry and allarm, the spot
-ware the plait was berrid went out of our heads. We have since dug up
-the hole srubbery, but without turnin up anny thing in its shape. But
-it cant be lost, tho’ it isnt to be found. The gardner swares the srubs
-will all di from being transplanted at unpropper sesin--but I trust it
-is onely his old grumblin stile witch he cannot git over.
-
-Honnerd Sur--The wust is to cum. In casis of Fire the trooth is shure
-to brake out suner or latter, so I may as well cum to the catstrophy
-without any varnish on my tail. This morning according to yure order, I
-hignitted the littel faggit stak, fust takin the precawshuny meshure
-of drawin up a line of men with buckits, from the dux-pond to the sene
-of combusting. Nothin can lay therefor on my sholders: it all riz
-from the men strikin for bear, wen they ort to hav bean handin warter
-to won another. I felt my deuty to argy the pint, which I trust will
-be apruved, and wile we were cussin and discussin the fire got a hed
-that defide all our unitted pours to subdo. To confess the fax, the
-fire inguns ware all lokt up in a stabble with a shy key that had lost
-itself the day before, and was not to be had wen we wantid to lay hands
-on it. Not that we could have wurkd the inguns if they had faverd with
-their presens, for want of hands. Evvery boddy had run so offen at
-the allarm bell that they got noboddy to go in there steed. It was an
-hawful site; the devowring ellemint swallerd won thing after another as
-sune as cotched, and rushed along roring with friteful violins. Were
-the finger of Providins is the hand as does we must not arrange it,
-but as the him says, “we must submit and humbel Bee.” Heavin direx the
-winds, and not us. As it blue towards the sow the piggry sune cotchd,
-and that cotchd the foul housis, and then the barn cotchd with all the
-straw, and the granery cotchd also, witch it wood not have dun if we
-had puld down the hay stax that stud between. That was all the cotching
-excep the hay stax, from Jenkins runnin about with a flaimin tale to
-his smoak frock. At last, by a blessin, when there was no moor to burn
-it was got under and squentched itself, prays be given without loss of
-lif or lim. Another comfit is all bein inshured in the Sun, enuff to
-kiver it; and I shud hop they will not refus to make gud on the ground
-that it was dun wilful by our hone ax and deeds. But fire officis are
-sumtimes verry unlibberal, and will ketch hold of a burning straw,
-and if fax were put on their oths I couldn’t deni a bundil of rags,
-matchis, candel ends, and other combustibils pokt into the faggits, and
-then litin up with my hone hand. Tim will sho. In the meenwhile I am
-consienshusly easy, it was dun for the best, though turned out for the
-wust, and am gratified to reflect that I hav omitted nothin, but have
-scruppleusly fulfild evvery particler of yure honner’s instruxions, and
-in hop of approval of the saim, await the faver of furthir commands,
-and am,
-
-    Honnerd Sur Jacob,
-    Your humbel, faithful, and obedient Servint,
-    ROGER DAVIS.
-
-[Illustration: LIGHT-FINGERED.]
-
-
-
-
-HUGGINS AND DUGGINS.
-
-A PASTORAL AFTER POPE.
-
-
-    TWO swains or clowns--but call them swains--
-    While keeping flocks on Salisbury Plains,
-    For all that tend on sheep as drovers,
-    Are turned to songsters, or to lovers,
-    Each of the lass he called his dear,
-    Began to carol loud and clear.
-
-    First Huggins sang, and Duggins then,
-    In the way of ancient shepherd men;
-    Who thus alternate hitch’d in song,
-    “All things by turns, and nothing long.”
-
-
-HUGGINS.
-
-    Of all the girls about our place,
-    There’s one beats all in form and face;
-    Search through all Great and Little Bumpstead,
-    You’ll only find one Peggy Plumpstead.
-
-[Illustration: FOLLOW MY LEADER.]
-
-
-DUGGINS.
-
-    To groves and streams I tell my flame,
-    I make the cliffs repeat her name:
-    When I’m inspired by gills and noggins,
-    The rocks re-echo Sally Hoggins!
-
-
-HUGGINS.
-
-    When I am walking in the grove,
-    I think of Peggy as I rove.
-    I’d carve her name on every tree,
-    But I don’t know my A, B, C.
-
-
-DUGGINS.
-
-    Whether I walk in hill or valley,
-    I think of nothing else but Sally.
-    I’d sing her praise, but I can sing
-    No song, except “God save the King.”
-
-
-HUGGINS.
-
-    My Peggy does all nymphs excel,
-    And all confess she bears the bell,--
-    Where’er she goes swains flock together,
-    Like sheep that follow the bellwether.
-
-
-DUGGINS.
-
-    Sally is tall and not too straight,--
-    Those very poplar shapes I hate;
-    But something twisted like an S,--
-    A crook becomes a shepherdess.
-
-
-HUGGINS.
-
-    When Peggy’s dog her arms imprison,
-    I often wish my lot was hisn;
-    How often I should stand and turn,
-    To get a pat from hands like hern.
-
-
-DUGGINS.
-
-    I tell Sall’s lambs how blest they be,
-    To stand about and stare at she;
-    But when I look, she turns and shies,
-    And won’t bear none but their sheep’s-eyes!
-
-
-HUGGINS.
-
-    Love goes with Peggy where she goes.--
-    Beneath her smile the garden grows;
-    Potatoes spring, and cabbage starts,
-    ’Tatoes have eyes, and cabbage hearts!
-
-
-DUGGINS.
-
-    Where Sally goes it’s always spring,
-    Her presence brightens every thing;
-    The sun smiles bright, but where her grin is,
-    It makes brass farthings look like guineas.
-
-
-HUGGINS.
-
-    For Peggy I can have no joy,
-    She’s sometimes kind, and sometimes coy,
-    And keeps me, by her wayward tricks,
-    As comfortless as sheep with ticks.
-
-[Illustration: RAMSAY’S GENTLE SHEPHERD.]
-
-
-DUGGINS.
-
-    Sally is ripe as June or May,
-    And yet as cold as Christmas day;
-    For when she’s asked to change her lot,
-    Lamb’s wool,--but Sally, she wool not
-
-
-HUGGINS.
-
-    Only with Peggy and with health,
-    I’d never wish for state or wealth;
-    Talking of having health and more pence,
-    I’d drink her health if I had fourpence.
-
-
-DUGGINS.
-
-    Oh, how that day would seem to shine,
-    If Sally’s banns were read with mine;
-    She cries, when such a wish I carry,
-    “Marry come up!” but will not marry.
-
-
-
-
-DOMESTIC DIDACTICS.
-
-BY AN OLD SERVANT.
-
-
-IT is not often when the Nine descend that they go so low as into
-areas; it is certain, nevertheless, that they were in the habit of
-visiting John Humphreys, in the kitchen of No. 189, Portland Place,
-disguised, no doubt, from mortal eye, as seamstresses or charwomen--at
-all events, as Winifred Jenkins says, “they were never ketch’d in the
-fact.” Perhaps it was the rule of the house to allow no followers, and
-they were obliged to come by stealth, and to go in the same manner;
-indeed, from the fragmental nature of John’s verses, they appear
-to have often left him very abruptly. Other pieces bear witness of
-the severe distraction he suffered between his domestic duty to the
-Umphravilles, twelve in family, with their guests, and his own secret
-visitors from Helicon. It must have been provoking, when seeking for
-a simile, to be sent in search of a salt-cellar; or when hunting
-for a rhyme, to have to look for a missing teaspoon. By a whimsical
-peculiarity, the causes of these lets and hindrances are recorded in
-his verses, by way of parenthesis: and though John’s poetry was of a
-decidedly serious and moralising turn, these little insertions give
-it so whimsical a character, as to make it an appropriate offering
-in the present work. Poor John! the grave has put a period to his
-didactics, and the publication of his lays in “Hood’s Own,” therefore,
-cannot give him pain, as it certainly would have done otherwise, for
-the MSS. were left by last will and testament “to his very worthy
-master, Joshua Umphraville, Esq., to be printed in Elegant Extracts,
-or Flowers of English Poetry.” The Editor is indebted to the kindness
-of that gentleman for a selection from the papers; which he has been
-unable to arrange chronologically, as John always wrote in too great a
-hurry to put dates. Whether he ever sent any pieces to the periodicals
-is unknown, for he kept his authorship as secret as Junius’s, till
-his death discovered his propensity for poetry, and happily cleared
-up some points in John’s character, which had appeared to his
-disadvantage. Thus when his eye was “in fine frenzy rolling,” bemused
-only with Castalian water, he had been suspected of being “bemused with
-beer;” and when he was supposed to indulge in a morning sluggishness,
-he was really rising with the sun, at least with Apollo. He was accused
-occasionally of shamming deafness, whereas it was doubtless nothing but
-the natural difficulty of hearing more than Nine at once. Above all,
-he was reckoned almost wilfully unfortunate in his breakage; but it
-appears that when deductions for damage were made from his wages, the
-poetry ought to have been stopped, and not the money. The truth is,
-John’s master was a classical scholar, and so accustomed to read of
-Pegasus, and to associate a Poet with a Horseman, that he never dreamt
-of one as a Footman.
-
-[Illustration: NOT UP YET.]
-
-The Editor is too diffident to volunteer an elaborate criticism of the
-merits of Humphreys as a Bard--but he presumes to say thus much, that
-there are several Authors, of the present day, whom John ought not to
-walk behind.
-
-
-THE BROKEN DISH.
-
-    WHAT’S life but full of care and doubt,
-      With all its fine humanities,
-    With parasols we walk about,
-      Long pigtails and such vanities.
-
-    We plant pomegranite trees and things,
-      And go in gardens sporting,
-    With toys and fans of peacocks’ wings,
-      To painted ladies courting.
-
-    We gather flowers of every hue,
-      And fish in boats for fishes,
-    Build summer-houses painted blue,--
-      But life’s as frail as dishes.
-
-    Walking about their groves of trees,
-      Blue bridges and blue rivers,
-    How little thought them two Chinese
-      They’d both be smash’d to shivers.
-
-
-ODE TO PEACE.
-
-WRITTEN ON THE NIGHT OF MY MISTRESS’S GRAND ROUT.
-
-    OH Peace! oh come with me and dwell--
-          But stop, for there’s the bell.
-    Oh Peace! for thee I go and sit in churches,
-        On Wednesday, when there’s very few
-          In loft or pew--
-    Another ring, the tarts are come from Birch’s.
-    Oh Peace! for thee I have avoided marriage--
-          Hush! there’s a carriage.
-    Oh Peace! thou art the best of earthly goods--
-          The five Miss Woods.
-    Oh Peace! thou art the Goddess I adore--
-          There come some more.
-    Oh Peace! thou child of solitude and quiet--
-    That’s Lord Drum’s footman, for he loves a riot.
-
-              Oh Peace!
-          Knocks will not cease.
-    Oh Peace! thou wert for human comfort plann’d--
-          That’s Weippert’s band.
-    Oh Peace! how glad I welcome thy approaches--
-          I hear the sound of coaches.
-    Oh Peace! oh Peace!--another carriage stops--
-          It’s early for the Blenkinsops.
-
-    Oh Peace! with thee I love to wander,
-    But wait till I have show’d up Lady Squander,
-    And now I’ve seen her up the stair,
-    Oh Peace!--but here comes Captain Hare.
-    Oh Peace! thou art the slumber of the mind,
-    Untroubled, calm and quiet, and unbroken,--
-    If that is Alderman Guzzle from Portsoken,
-    Alderman Gobble won’t be far behind;
-    Oh Peace! serene in worldly shyness,--
-    Make way there for his Serene Highness!
-
-    Oh Peace! if you do not disdain
-    To dwell amongst the menial train,
-    I have a silent place, and lone,
-    That you and I may call our own;
-    Where tumult never makes an entry--
-    Susan, what business have you in my pantry?
-
-    Oh Peace! but there is Major Monk,
-    At variance with his wife--Oh Peace!
-    And that great German, Vander Trunk,
-    And that great talker, Miss Apreece;
-    Oh Peace! so dear to poets’ quills--
-    They’re just beginning their quadrilles--
-    Oh Peace! our greatest renovator;--
-    I wonder where I put my waiter--
-    Oh Peace!--but here my Ode I’ll cease;
-    I have no peace to write of Peace.
-
-
-A FEW LINES ON COMPLETING FORTY-SEVEN.
-
-    When I reflect with serious sense,
-      While years and years run on,
-    How soon I may be summoned hence--
-      There’s cook a-calling John.
-
-    Our lives are built so frail and poor,
-      On sand and not on rocks,
-    We’re hourly standing at Death’s door--
-      There’s some one double-knocks.
-
-    All human days have settled terms,
-      Our fates we cannot force;
-    This flesh of mine will feed the worms--
-      They’re come to lunch of course.
-
-    And when my body’s turn’d to clay,
-      And dear friends hear my knell,
-    O let them give a sigh and say--
-      I hear the upstairs bell.
-
-
-TO MARY HOUSEMAID,
-
-ON VALENTINE’S DAY.
-
-    Mary, you know I’ve no love-nonsense,
-      And, though I pen on such a day,
-    I don’t mean flirting, on my conscience,
-      Or writing in the courting way.
-
-    Though Beauty hasn’t form’d your feature,
-      It saves you, p’rhaps, from being vain,
-    And many a poor unhappy creature
-      May wish that she was half as plain.
-
-    Your virtues would not rise an inch,
-      Although your shape was two foot taller,
-    And wisely you let others pinch
-      Great waists and feet to make them smaller.
-
-    You never try to spare your hands
-      From getting red by household duty,
-    But, doing all that it commands,
-      Their coarseness is a moral beauty.
-
-    Let Susan flourish her fair arms
-      And at your odd legs sneer and scoff,
-    But let her laugh, for you have charms
-      That nobody knows nothing of.
-
-[Illustration: WHAT ODD LEGS!]
-
-
-
-
-PAIN IN A PLEASURE-BOAT.
-
-A SEA ECLOGUE.
-
-    “I apprehend you!”--SCHOOL OF REFORM.
-
-
-BOATMAN.
-
-    SHOVE off there!--ship the rudder, Bill--cast off! she’s under way!
-
-MRS. F.
-
-    She’s under what?--I hope she’s not! good gracious, what a spray!
-
-BOATMAN.
-
-    Run out the jib, and rig the boom! keep clear of those two brigs!
-
-MRS. F.
-
-    I hope they don’t intend some joke by running of their rigs!
-
-[Illustration: SEE-VIEW:--BROAD STARES.]
-
-BOATMAN.
-
-    Bill, shift them bags of ballast aft--she’s rather out of trim!
-
-MRS. F.
-
-    Great bags of stones! they’re pretty things to help a boat to swim!
-
-BOATMAN.
-
-    The wind is fresh--if she don’t scud, it’s not the breeze’s fault!
-
-MRS. F.
-
-    Wind fresh, indeed, I never felt the air so full of salt!
-
-BOATMAN.
-
-    That Schooner, Bill, harn’t left the roads, with oranges and nuts!
-
-MRS. F.
-
-    If seas have roads, they’re very rough--I never felt such ruts!
-
-BOATMAN.
-
-    It’s neap, ye see, she’s heavy lade, and couldn’t pass the bar.
-
-MRS. F.
-
-    The bar! what, roads with turnpikes too? I wonder where they are!
-
-BOATMAN.
-
-    Ho! brig ahoy! hard up! hard up! that lubber cannot steer!
-
-MRS. F.
-
-    Yes, yes,--hard up upon a rock! I know some danger’s near!
-    Lord, there’s a wave! it’s coming in! and roaring like a bull!
-
-BOATMAN.
-
-    Nothing, Ma’am, but a little slop! go large, Bill! keep her full!
-
-MRS. F.
-
-    What, keep her full! what daring work! when full, she must go down!
-
-BOATMAN.
-
-    Why, Bill, it lulls! ease off a bit--it’s coming off the town!
-    Steady your helm! we’ll clear the _Pint_! lay right for yonder pink!
-
-MRS. F.
-
-    Be steady--well, I hope they can! but they’ve got a pint of drink!
-
-BOATMAN.
-
-    Bill, give that sheet another haul--she’ll fetch it up this reach.
-
-MRS. F.
-
-    I’m getting rather pale, I know, and they see it by that speech!
-    I wonder what it is, now, but----I never felt so queer!
-
-BOATMAN.
-
-    Bill, mind your luff--why Bill, I say, she’s yawing--keep her near!
-
-MRS. F.
-
-    Keep near! we’re going further off; the land’s behind our backs.
-
-[Illustration: STERNE’S MARIA.]
-
-BOATMAN.
-
-    Be easy, Ma’am, it’s all correct, that’s only ’cause we tacks:
-    We shall have to beat about a bit,--Bill, keep her out to sea.
-
-MRS. F.
-
-    Beat who about? keep who at sea?--how black they look at me!
-
-BOATMAN.
-
-    It’s veering round--I knew it would! off with her head! stand by!
-
-MRS. F.
-
-    Off with her head! whose? where? what with?--an axe I seem to spy!
-
-BOATMAN.
-
-    She can’t not keep her own, you see; we shall have to pull her in!
-
-MRS. F.
-
-    They’ll drown me, and take all I have! my life’s not worth a pin!
-
-BOATMAN.
-
-    Look out you know, be ready, Bill--just when she takes the sand!
-
-MRS. F.
-
-    The sand--O Lord! to stop my mouth! how every thing is planned!
-
-BOATMAN.
-
-    The handspike, Bill--quick, bear a hand! now Ma’am, just step
-        ashore!
-
-MRS. F.
-
-    What! an’t I going to be kill’d--and welter’d in my gore?
-    Well, Heaven be praised! but I’ll not go a sailing any more!
-
-
-
-
-A SPENT BALL.
-
-    “The flying ball.”--GRAY.
-
-
-A BALL is a round, but not a perpetual round, of pleasure. It spends
-itself at last, like that from the cannon’s mouth; or rather, like that
-greatest of balls, “that great globe itself,” is “dissolved with all
-that it inherits.”
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Four o’clock strikes. The company are all but gone, and the musicians
-“put up” with their absence. A few “_figures_,” however, remain, that
-have never been danced, and the hostess, who is all urbanity and
-turbanity, kindly hopes that they will stand up for “one set more.” The
-six figures jump at the offer; they “wake the Harp,” get the fiddlers
-into a fresh scrape, and “the Lancers” are put through their exercise.
-This may be called the Dance of Death, for it ends every thing. The
-band is disbanded, and the Ball takes the form of a family circle. It
-is long past the time when church-yards yawn, but the mouth of Mamma
-opens to a bore, that gives hopes of the Thames Tunnel. Papa, to whom
-the Ball has been anything but a force-meat one, seizes eagerly upon
-the first eatables he can catch, and with his mouth open and his eyes
-shut, declares, in the spirit of an “Examiner” into such things, that a
-“Party is the madness of many for the gain of a few.” The son, heartily
-tired of a suit of broad cloth cut narrow, assents to the proposition,
-and having no further use for his curled head, lays it quietly on
-the shelf. The daughter droops; art has had her Almack’s, and nature
-establishes a Free and Easy. Grace throws herself, skow-wow any-how, on
-an ottoman, and Good Breeding crosses her legs. Roses begin to relax,
-and Curls to unbend themselves; the very Candles seem released from the
-restraints of gentility, and getting low, some begin to smoke, while
-others indulge in a gutter. Muscles and sinews feel equally let loose,
-and by way of a joke, the cramp ties a double-knot in Clarinda’s calf.
-
-Clarinda screams. To this appeal the maternal heart is more awake than
-the maternal eyes, and the maternal hand begins hastily to bestow its
-friction, not on the leg of suffering, but on the leg of the sofa.
-In the mean time, paternal hunger gets satisfied; he eats slower,
-and sleeps faster, subsiding, like a gorged Boa Constrictor, into
-torpidity; and in this state, grasping an extinguished candle, he
-lights himself up to bed. Clarinda follows, stumbling through her steps
-in a doze-à-doze; the brother is next, and Mamma having seen with half
-an eye, or something less, that all is safe, winds up the procession.
-
-Every Ball, however, has its rebound, and so has this in their
-dreams--with the mother who has a daughter, as a Golden Ball; with the
-daughter, who has a lover, as an eye-ball; with his son, who has a
-rival, as a pistol-ball; but with the father, who has no dreams at all,
-as nothing but the blacking-ball of oblivion.
-
-
-
-
-LITERARY AND LITERAL.
-
-
-    THE March of Mind upon its mighty stilts,
-    (A spirit by no means to fasten mocks on,)
-    In travelling through Berks, Beds, Notts, and Wilts,
-        Hants--Bucks, Herts, Oxon,
-    Got up a thing our ancestors ne’er thought on,
-    A thing that, only in our proper youth,
-    We should have chuckled at--in sober truth,
-    A Conversazione at Hog’s Norton!
-
-    A place whose native dialect, somehow,
-    Has always by an adage been affronted,
-    And that it is all _gutturals_, is now
-              Taken for grunted.
-
-    Conceive the snoring of a greedy swine,
-    The slobbering of a hungry Ursine Sloth--
-    If you have ever heard such creature dine--
-    And--for Hog’s Norton, make a mix of both!--
-
-    O shades of Shakspeare! Chaucer! Spenser!
-      Milton! Pope! Gray! Warton!
-    O Colman! Kenny! Planche! Poole! Peake!
-      Pocock! Reynolds! Morton!
-    O Grey! Peel! Sadler! Wilberforce! Burdett!
-      Hume! Wilmot Horton!
-    Think of your prose and verse, and worse--delivered in Hog’s
-        Norton!--
-
-    The founder of Hog’s Norton Athenæum
-              Framed her society
-              With some variety
-    From Mr. Roscoe’s Liverpool museum;
-    Not a mere pic-nic, for the mind’s repast,
-    But tempting to the solid knife-and-forker,
-    It held its sessions in the house that last
-              Had killed a porker.
-
-              It chanced one Friday,
-    One Farmer Grayley stuck a very big hog,
-    A perfect Gog or Magog of a pig-hog,
-    Which made of course a literary high day,--
-    Not that our Farmer was a man to go
-    With literary tastes--so far from suiting ’em,
-    When he heard mention of Professor _Crowe_,
-    Or Lalla-_Rookh_, he always was for shooting ’em!
-    In fact in letters he was quite a log,
-              With him great Bacon
-              Was literally taken.
-
-[Illustration: “’TIS PLEASANT SURE TO SEE ONE’S SELF IN PRINT.”]
-
-    And Hogg--the Poet--nothing but a Hog!
-    As to all others on the list of Fame,
-    Although they were discuss’d and mention’d daily,
-    He only recognised one classic name,
-    And thought that _she_ had hung herself--_Miss Baillie_!
-
-    To balance this, our Farmer’s only daughter
-    Had a great taste for the Castalian water--
-    A Wordsworth worshipper--a Southey wooer,--
-    (Though men that deal in water-colour cakes
-    May disbelieve the fact--yet nothing’s truer)
-              She got the _bluer_
-    The more she dipped and dabbled in the _Lakes_.
-    The secret truth is, Hope, the old deceiver,
-    At future Authorship was apt to hint,
-    Producing what some call the _Type-us_ Fever,
-    Which means a burning to be seen in print.
-
-    Of learning’s laurels--Miss Joanna Baillie--
-    Of Mrs. Hemans--Mrs. Wilson--daily
-    Dreamt Anne Priscilla Isabella Grayley;
-    And Fancy hinting that she had the better
-    Of L.E.L. by one initial letter,
-    She thought the world would quite enraptur’d see
-
-    “LOVE LAYS AND LYRICS
-    BY
-    A P I G.”
-
-    Accordingly, with very great propriety,
-    She joined the H. N. B. and double S.,
-    That is,--Hog’s Norton Blue Stocking Society;
-    And saving when her Pa his pigs prohibited,
-              Contributed
-    Her pork and poetry towards the mess.
-
-    This feast, we said, one Friday was the case
-    When farmer Grayley--from Macbeth to quote--
-    Screwing his courage to the “sticking place,”
-    Stuck a large knife into a grunter’s throat;--
-    A kind of murder that the law’s rebuke
-    Seldom condemns by shake of its peruke,
-    Showing the little sympathy of _big-wigs_
-                  With _pig-wigs_!
-
-    The swine--poor wretch!--with nobody to speak for it,
-    And beg its life, resolved to have a squeak for it;
-    So--like the fabled swan--died singing out,
-    And, thus, there issued from the farmer’s yard
-    A note that notified without a card,
-    An invitation to the evening rout.
-
-[Illustration: BREAKING UP, NO HOLIDAY.]
-
-    And when the time came duly,--“At the close of
-    The day,” as Beattie has it, “when the ham--”
-    Bacon and pork were ready to dispose of,
-    And pettitoes and chit’lings too, to cram,--
-
-    Walked in the H. N. B. and double S.’s,
-    All in appropriate and swinish dresses,
-    For lo! it is a fact, and not a joke,
-    Although the Muse might fairly jest upon it,
-    They came--each “Pig-faced Lady,” in that bonnet
-              We call _a poke_.
-
-    The Members all assembled thus, a rare woman
-    At pork and poetry was chosen _chairwoman_;--
-    In fact, the bluest of the Blues, Miss Ikey,
-    Whose whole pronunciation was so piggy,
-    She always named the authoress of “_Psyche_”--
-              As Mrs. _Tiggey_!
-
-    And now arose a question of some moment,--
-    What author for a lecture was the richer,
-    Bacon or Hogg? there were no votes for Beaumont,
-              But some for _Flitcher_;
-    While others, with a more sagacious reasoning,
-              Proposed another work,
-              And thought their pork
-    Would prove more relishing from Thomson’s Season-ing!
-
-    But, practised in Shakspearian readings daily--
-    O! Miss Macaulay! Shakspeare at Hog’s Norton!--
-    Miss Anne Priscilla Isabella Grayley
-    Selected _him_ that evening to snort on.
-    In short, to make our story not a big tale,
-              Just fancy her exerting
-              Her talents, and converting
-    The Winter’s Tale to something like a pig-tale!
-              Her sister auditory
-    All sitting round, with grave and learned faces,
-              Were very plauditory,
-    Of course, and clapped her at the proper places;
-    Till fanned at once by fortune and the Muse,
-    She thought herself the blessedest of Blues.
-    But Happiness, alas! has blights of ill,
-    And Pleasure’s bubbles in the air explode;--
-    There is no travelling through life but still
-    The heart will meet with breakers on the road!
-
-              With that peculiar voice
-    Heard only from Hog’s Norton throats and noses,
-    Miss G., with Perdita, was making choice
-    Of buds and blossoms for her summer posies,
-    When coming to that line, where Proserpine
-    Lets fall her flowers from the wain of Dis;
-              Imagine this--
-    Uprose on his hind legs old Farmer Grayley,
-    Grunting this question for the club’s digestion,
-    “Do _Dis’s Waggon_ go from the Ould Bäaley?”
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-THE ACCIDENT.
-
-    “We thought she never would ride it out, and expected her every
-    moment to go to pieces.”--NAVAL SKETCH BOOK.
-
-
-“THERE you go, you villain--that’s the way to run over people! There’s
-a little boy in the road--you’d better run over _him_, for you won’t
-call out to him, no, not you, for a brute as you are! You think poor
-people an’t common Christians,--you grind the faces of the poor, you
-do. Ay, cut away, do--you’ll be Wilful Murdered by the Crowner some
-day! I’ll keep up with you and tell the gentlemen on the top! Women
-wasn’t created for you to gallop over like dirt, and scrunch their
-bones into compound fractions.--Don’t get into his coach, Ma’am! he’s
-no respect for the sects--he’ll lay you up in the hospital for months
-and months, he will, the inhuman hard-hearted varmin!”
-
-The speaker, a little active old woman, had run parallel with the coach
-some fifty yards, when it stopped to take up a lady who was as prompt
-as ladies generally are, in giving dinner instructions to the cook,
-and setting domestic lessons to the housemaid, besides having to pack
-a parcel, to hunt for her clogs, to exchange the cook’s umbrella for
-her own, and to kiss all her seven children. Mat, thus reduced to a
-door-mat, was unable to escape the volley which the Virago still poured
-in upon him; but he kept a most imperturbable face and silence till he
-was fairly seated again on the box.
-
-“There, gentlemen,” said he, pointing at the assailant with his whip;
-“that’s what I call gratitude. Look at her figure now, and look at what
-it was six months ago. She never had a waist till I run over her.”
-
-“I hope, friend, thee art not very apt to make these experiments on the
-human figure,” said an elderly Quaker on the roof. “Not by no means,”
-answered Mat; “I have done very little in the accidental line--nothing
-worth mentioning. All the years I’ve been on the road, I’ve never
-come to a kill on the spot; them sort o’things belongs to Burrowes,
-as drives over one with the Friend in Need, and he’s got quite a name
-for it. He’s called ‘Fatal Jack.’ To be sure, now I think of it, I was
-the innocent cause of death to one person, and she was rather out of
-the common.” “You fractured her limbs, p’r’aps?” inquired one of the
-outsides. “No such thing,” said Mat, “there was nothing fractious in
-the case; as to running over her limbs, it was the impossible thing
-with a woman born without legs and arms.” “You must allude to Miss
-Biffin,” said the outsider--“the Norfolk phenomenon.”
-
-“Begging your pardon,” said Mat, “it was before the Phenomenon was
-started. It was one of the regular old long-bodied double-coaches,
-and I drove it myself. Very uneasy they were; for springs at that
-time hadn’t much spring in ’em; and nobody on earth had thought of
-Macadaming Piccadilly. You could always tell whether you were on the
-stones, or off, and no mistake. I was a full hour behind time--for
-coaches in them days wasn’t called by such names as Chronometers and
-Regulators, and good reason why. So I’d been plying a full hour after
-time, without a soul inside, except a barrel of natives for a customer
-down the road: at last, a hackney-coach pulls up, and Jarvey and the
-waterman lifts Miss Biffin into my drag. Well, off I sets with a light
-load enough, and to fetch up time astonished my team into a bit of a
-gallop--and it wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to keep one’s seat
-on the box, the coach jumped so over the stones. Well, away I goes,
-springing my rattle till I come to the gate at Hyde Park Corner, where
-one of my insides was waiting for me--and not very sorry to pull up,
-for the breath was almost shook out of my bellows. Well, I opens the
-door, and what do I see lying together at the bottom of the coach,
-but Miss Biffin bruised unsensible, and the head out of the barrel of
-oysters!”
-
-[Illustration: FANCY PORTRAIT--OLD SARUM.]
-
-“I do hope, friend,” said the elderly Quaker, “that thou didst replace
-them on their seats.”
-
-“To be sure I did,” answered Mat, “and the oysters took it quietly
-enough, without opening their mouths; but it didn’t go quite so smooth
-with Miss B. She talked of an action for damages, and consulted
-counsel; but, Lord bless you, when it came to taking steps agin us, she
-hadn’t a leg to stand upon!”
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: DICKY BIRDS.]
-
-
-
-
-SONNET.
-
-TO LORD WHARNCLIFFE, ON HIS GAME-BILL.
-
-
-    I’m fond of partridges, I’m fond of snipes,
-    I’m fond of black cocks, for they’re very good cocks--
-    I’m fond of wild ducks, and I’m fond of woodcocks--
-    And grouse that set up such strange moorish pipes.
-    I’m fond of pheasants with their splendid stripes--
-    I’m fond of hares, whether from Whig or Tory--
-    I’m fond of capercailzies in their glory,--
-    Teal, widgeons, plovers, birds in all their types:
-    All these are in your care, Law-giving Peer,
-    And when you next address your Lordly Babel,
-    Some clause put in your Bill, precise and clear,
-    With due and fit provision to enable
-    A man that holds all kinds of game so dear
-    To keep, like Crockford, a good Gaming Table.
-
-
-
-
-LITERARY REMINISCENCES.
-
-No. I.
-
-    TIME was, I sat upon a lofty stool,
-    At lofty desk, and with a clerkly pen
-    Began each morning, at the stroke of ten,
-    To write in Bell and Co.’s commercial school;
-    In Warnford Court, a shady nook and cool,
-    The favourite retreat of merchant men;
-    Yet would my quill turn vagrant even then,
-    And take stray dips in the Castalian pool.
-    Now double entry--now a flowery trope--
-    Mingling poetic honey with trade wax--
-    Blogg, Brothers--Milton--Grote and Prescott--Pope--
-    Bristles--and Hogg--Glyn Mills and Halifax--
-    Rogers--and Towgood--Hemp--the Bard of Hope--
-    Barilla--Byron--Tallow--Burns--and Flax!
-
-
-MY commercial career was a brief one, and deserved only a sonnet in
-commemoration. The fault, however, lay not with the muses. To commit
-poetry indeed is a crime ranking next to forgery in the counting-house
-code; and an Ode or a song dated Copthall Court, would be as certainly
-noted and protested as a dishonoured bill. I have even heard of an
-unfortunate clerk, who lost his situation through being tempted by the
-jingle to subscribe under an account current
-
-    “Excepted all errors
-    Made by John Ferrers,”
-
-his employer emphatically declaring that Poetry and Logwood could never
-coexist in the same head. The principal of _our_ firm on the contrary
-had a turn for the Belles Lettres, and would have winked with both
-eyes at verses which did not intrude into an invoice or confuse their
-figures with those of the Ledger. The true cause of my retirement from
-Commercial affairs was more prosaic. My constitution, though far from
-venerable, had begun to show symptoms of decay: my appetite failed,
-and its principal creditor, the stomach, received only an ounce in the
-pound. My spirits daily became a shade lower--my flesh was held less
-and less firmly--in short, in the language of the price current, it
-was expected that I must “submit to a decline.” The Doctors who were
-called in, declared imperatively that a mercantile life would be the
-death of me--that by so much sitting, I was hatching a whole brood of
-complaints, and that no Physician would insure me as a merchantman from
-the Port of London to the next Spring. The Exchange, they said, was
-against me, and as the Exchange itself used to ring with “Life let us
-Cherish,” there was no resisting the advice. I was ordered to abstain
-from Ashes, Bristles, and Petersburg yellow candle, and to indulge in
-a more generous diet--to take regular country exercise instead of the
-Russia Walk, and to go to bed early even on Foreign Post nights. Above
-all I was recommended change of air, and in particular the bracing
-breezes of the North. Accordingly I was soon shipped as per advice,
-in a Scotch Smack, which “_smacked_ through the breeze,” as Dibdin
-sings so merrily, that on the fourth morning we were in sight of the
-prominent old Steeple of “Bonny Dundee.”
-
-My Biographer, in the Book of Gems, alludes to this voyage, and
-infers from some verses--“Gadzooks! must one swear to the truth of a
-song?”--that it sickened me of the sea. Nothing can be more unfounded.
-The marine terrors and disagreeables enumerated in the poem, belong
-to a Miss Oliver, and not to me, who regard the ocean with a natural
-and national partiality. Constitutionally proof against that nausea
-which extorts so many wave-offerings from the afflicted, I am as
-constant as Captain Basil Hall himself, in my regard “for the element
-that never tires.” Some washy fellows, it is true, _Fresh_-men from
-Cambridge and the like, affect to prefer river or even pond water for
-their aquatics--the tame ripple to the wild wave, the prose to “the
-poetry of motion.” But give _me_ “the multitudinous sea,” resting
-or rampant, with all its variable moods and changeable colouring.
-Methought, when pining under the _maladie du pays_, on a hopeless, sick
-bed, inland, in Germany, it would have relieved those yearnings but to
-look across an element so instinct with English associations, that it
-would seem rather to unite me to than sever me from my native island.
-And, truly, when I did at last stand on the brink of the dark blue
-sea, my home-sick wishes seemed already half fulfilled, and it was not
-till many months afterwards that I actually crossed the Channel. But
-I am, besides, personally under deep obligations to the great deep.
-Twice, indeed, in a calm, and in a storm, has my life been threatened
-with a salt-water catastrophe; but that quarrel has long been made
-up, and forgiven, in gratitude for the blessing and bracing influence
-of the breezes that smack of the ocean brine. Dislike the sea!--With
-what delight aforetime used I to swim in it, to dive in it, to sail
-on it! Ask honest Tom Woodgate, of Hastings, who made of me, for a
-landsman, a tolerable boatsman. Even now, when do I feel so easy in
-body, and so cheerful in spirit, as when walking hard by the surge,
-listening, as if expecting some whisperings of friendly but distant
-voices, in its eternal murmuring. Sick of the sea! If ever I have
-a water-drinking fancy, it is a wish that the ocean brine had been
-sweet, or sour instead of salt, so as to be potable; for what can be
-more tempting _to the eye_ as a draught, than the pure fluid, almost
-invisible with clearness, as it lies in some sandy scoop, or rocky
-hollow, a true “Diamond of the Desert,” to say nothing of the same
-living liquid in its effervescing state, when it sparkles up, hissing
-and bubbling in the ship’s wake--the very Champaigne of water! Above
-all what intellectual solar and soothing syrup have I not derived from
-the mere contemplation of the boundless main,--the most effectual and
-innocent of mental sedatives, and often called in aid of that practical
-philosophy it has been my wont to recommend in the present work. For
-whenever, owing to physical depression, or a discordant state of the
-nerves, my personal vexations and cares, real or imaginary, become
-importunate in my thoughts, and acquire, by morbid exaggeration, an
-undue prominence and importance, what remedy then so infallible as
-to mount to my solitary seat in the look-out, and thence gaze awhile
-across the broad expanse, till in the presence of that vast horizon,
-my proper troubles shrink to their true proportions, and I look on
-the whole race of men, with their insignificant pursuits, as so many
-shrimpers! But this is a digression--We have made the harbour of
-Dundee, and it is time to step ashore in “stout and original Scotland,”
-as it is called by Doctor Adolphus Wagner, in his German edition of
-Burns[2].
-
-Like other shipments, I had been regularly addressed to the care of a
-consignee:--but the latter, not anxious, probably, to take charge of
-a hobbledehoy, yet at the same time unwilling to incur the reproach
-of having a relative in the same town and not under the same roof,
-peremptorily declined the office. Nay, more, she pronounced against
-me a capital sentence, so far as returning to the place from whence I
-came, and even proceeded to bespeak my passage and reship my luggage.
-Judging from such vigorous measures the temper of my customer, instead
-of remonstrating, I affected resignation, and went with a grave face
-through the farce of a formal leave-taking; I even went on board, but
-it was in company with a stout fellow who relanded my baggage; and
-thus, whilst my transporter imagined, good easy soul! that the rejected
-article was sailing round St. Abb’s Head, or rolling off the Bass, he
-was actually safe and snug in Dundee, quietly laughing in his sleeve
-with the Law at his back. I have a confused recollection of meeting,
-some three or four days afterwards, a female cousin on her road to
-school, who at sight of me turned suddenly round, and galloped off
-towards home with the speed of a scared heifer.
-
-My first concern was now to look out for some comfortable roof, under
-which “for a consideration” one would be treated as one of the family.
-I entered accordingly into a treaty with a respectable widower, who had
-no sons of his own, but in spite of the most undeniable references, and
-a general accordance as to terms, there occurred a mysterious hitch in
-the arrangement, arising from a whimsical prepossession which only came
-afterwards to my knowledge--namely, that an English laddie, instead
-of supping parritch, would inevitably require a rump-steak to his
-breakfeast! My next essay was more successful; and ended in my being
-regularly installed in a boarding-house, kept by a Scotchwoman, who was
-not so sure of my being a beefeater. She was a sort of widow, with a
-seafaring husband “as good as dead,” and in her appearance not unlike a
-personification of _rouge et noir_, with her red eyes, her red face,
-her yellow teeth, and her black velvet cap. The first day of my term
-happened to be also the first day of the new year, and on stepping from
-my bed-room, I encountered our Hostess--like a witch and her familiar
-spirit--with a huge bottle of whiskey in one hand, and a glass in the
-other. It was impossible to decline the dram she pressed upon me, and
-very good it proved, and undoubtedly strong, seeing that for some time
-I could only muse its praise in expressive silence, and indeed, I was
-only able to speak with “a _small still_ voice” for several minutes
-afterwards. Such was my characteristic introduction to the Land of
-Cakes, where I was destined to spend the greater part of two years,
-under circumstances likely to materially influence the colouring and
-filling up of my future life.
-
-To properly estimate the dangers of my position, imagine a boy of
-fifteen, at the Nore, as it were, of life, thus left dependent on
-his own pilotage for a safe voyage to the Isle of Man; or conceive
-a juvenile Telemachus, without a Mentor, brought suddenly into the
-perilous neighbourhood of Calypso and her enchantments. It will hardly
-be expected, that from some half-dozen of young bachelors, there came
-forth any solemn voice didactically warning me in the strain of the
-sage Imlac to the Prince of Abyssinia. In fact, I recollect receiving
-but one solitary serious admonition, and that was from a she cousin of
-ten years old, that the Spectator I was reading on a Sunday morning,
-“was no the Bible.” For there was still much of this pious rigour
-extant in Scotland, though a gentleman was no longer committed to
-Tolboothia Infelix, for an unseasonable promenade during church time.
-It was once, however, my fortune to witness a sample of the _ancien
-régime_ at an evening party composed chiefly of young and rather
-fashionable persons, when lo! like an Anachronism confounding times
-past with times present, there came out of some corner an antique
-figure, with quaintly cut blue suit and three-cornered hat, not unlike
-a very old Greenwich Pensioner, who taking his stand in front of the
-circle, deliberately asked a blessing of formidable length on the thin
-bread and butter, the short cake, the marmalade, and the Pekoe tea. And
-here, _en passant_, it may be worth while to remark, for the benefit of
-our Agnews and Plumtres, as illustrating the intrinsic value of such
-sanctimonious pretension, that the elder Scotland, so renowned for
-armlong graces, and redundant preachments, and abundant psalm-singing,
-has yet bequeathed to posterity a singularly liberal collection of
-songs, the reverie of Divine and Moral, such as “can only be sung when
-the punch-bowl has done its work and the wild wit is set free[3].”
-
-To return to my boarding-house, which with all its chairs, had none
-appropriated to a Professor of Moral Philosophy. In the absence of
-such a monitor, nature, fortunately for myself, had gifted me with a
-taste for reading, which the languor of ill-health, inclining me to
-sedentary habits, helped materially to encourage. Whatever books, good,
-bad, or indifferent, happened to come within my reach, were perused
-with the greatest avidity, and however indiscriminate the course, the
-balance of the impressions thence derived was decidedly in favour of
-the allegorical lady, so wisely preferred by Hercules when he had
-to make his election between Virtue and Vice. Of the material that
-ministered to this appetite, I shall always regret that I did not
-secure, as a literary curiosity--a collection of halfpenny Ballads,
-the property of a Grocer’s apprentice, and which contained, amongst
-other matters, a new version of Chevy Chase, wherein the victory was
-transferred to the Scots. In the mean time, this bookishness acquired
-for me a sort of reputation for scholarship amongst my comrades, and
-in consequence my pen was sometimes called into requisition, in divers
-and sometimes delicate cases. Thus for one party, whom the Gods had
-not made poetical, I composed a love-letter in verse; for another,
-whose education had been neglected, I carried on a correspondence with
-reference to a tobacco manufactory in which he was a sleeping partner;
-whilst, on a graver occasion, the hand now peacefully setting down
-these reminiscences, was employed in penning a most horrible peremptory
-invitation to pistols and twelve paces, till one was nicked. The
-facts were briefly these. A spicy-tempered captain of Artillery, in a
-dispute with a superior officer, had rashly cashiered himself by either
-throwing up or tearing up his commission. In this dilemma he arrived
-at Dundee, to assume a post in the Customs, which had been procured
-for him by the interest of his friends. To his infinite indignation,
-however, he found that instead of a lucrative surveyorship, he had
-been appointed a simple tide-waiter! and magnificent was the rage with
-which he tore, trampled, and danced on the little official paper book
-wherein he had been set to tick off, bale by bale, a cargo of “infernal
-hemp.” Unluckily, on the very day of this revelation, a forgery was
-perpetrated on the local Bank, and those sapient Dogberries, the
-town officers, saw fit to take up our persecuted ex-captain, on the
-simple ground that he was the last stranger who had entered the town.
-Rendered almost frantic by this second insult, nothing would serve
-him in his paroxysm but calling somebody out, and he pitched at once
-on the cashier of the defrauded Bank. As the state of his nerves
-would not permit him to write, he entreated me earnestly to draw up a
-defiance, which I performed, at the expense of an agony of suppressed
-laughter, merely to imagine the effect of such a missive on the man of
-business--a respectable powdered, bald, pudgy, pacific little body,
-with no more idea of “going out” than a cow in a field of clover. I
-forget the precise result--but certainly there was no duel.
-
-
-  [2] The Baron Dupotet de Sennevoy and Doctor Elliotson, will
-      doubtless be glad to be informed, that the inspired Scottish
-      Poet was a believer in their magnetismal mysteries--at least in
-      the article of reading a book behind the back. In a letter to
-      Mr. Robert Ainslie, is the following passage in proof. “I have
-      no doubt but scholarcraft may be caught, as a Scotchman catches
-      the itch--by friction. How else can you account for it that born
-      blockheads, by mere dint of _handling_ books, grow so wise that
-      even they themselves are equally convinced of and surprised at
-      their own parts? I once carried that philosophy to that degree,
-      that in a knot of country folks, who had a library amongst them,
-      and who, to the honour of their good sense, made me factotum
-      in the business; one of our members, a little wiselook, squat,
-      upright, jabbering body of a tailor, I advised him instead of
-      turning over the leaves, _to bind the book on his back_. Johnnie
-      took the hint, and as our meetings were every fourth Saturday,
-      and Pricklouse having a good Scots mile to walk in coming, and
-      of course another in returning, Bodkin was sure to lay his hand
-      on some heavy quarto or ponderous folio; with and under which,
-      wrapt up in his gray plaid, he grew wise as he grew weary all
-      the way home. He carried this so far, that an old musty Hebrew
-      Concordance, which we had in a present from a neighbouring
-      priest, _by mere dint of applying it as doctors do a blistering
-      plaster, between his shoulders_, Stitch, in a dozen pilgrimages,
-      acquired as much rational theology as the said priest had done by
-      forty years’ perusal of its pages.”
-
-  [3] A. Cunningham.
-
-
-
-
-ODE TO PERRY,
-
-THE INVENTOR OF THE PATENT PERRYAN PEN.
-
-    “In this good work, Penn appears the greatest, usefullest of God’s
-    instruments. Firm and unbending when the exigency requires it--soft
-    and yielding when rigid inflexibility is not a desideratum, fluent
-    and flowing, at need, for eloquent rapidity--slow and retentive
-    in cases of deliberation--never spluttering or by amplification
-    going wide of the mark--never splitting, if it can be helped, with
-    any one, but ready to wear itself out rather in their service--all
-    things as it were with all men, ready to embrace the hand of Jew,
-    Christian or Mahometan,--heavy with the German, light with the
-    Italian, oblique with the English, upright with the Roman, backward
-    in coming forward with the Hebrew,--in short, for flexibility,
-    amiability, constitutional durability, general ability, and
-    universal utility, it would be hard to find a parallel to the great
-    Penn.”
-
-    PERRY’S CHARACTERISTICS OF A SETTLER.
-
-
-I.
-
-    O! Patent, Pen-inventing Perrian Perry!
-        Friend of the Goose and Gander,
-    That now unplucked of their quill-feathers wander,
-    Cackling, and gabbling, dabbling, making merry,
-          About the happy Fen,
-    Untroubled for one penny-worth of pen,
-    For which they chant thy praise all Britain through,
-        From Goose-Green unto Gander-Cleugh!--
-
-
-II.
-
-        Friend to all Author-kind--
-    Whether of Poet or of Proser,--
-    Thou art composer unto the composer
-    Of pens,--yea, patent vehicles for Mind
-    To carry it on jaunts, or more extensive
-      _Perry_grinations through the realms of Thought;
-    Each plying from the Comic to the Pensive,
-      An Omnibus of intellectual sort!
-
-
-III.
-
-    Modern Improvements in their course we feel;
-    And while to iron-railroads heavy wares,
-    Dry goods, and human bodies, pay their fares,
-        Mind flies on steel,
-    To Penrith, Penrhyn, even to Penzance.
-        Nay, penetrates, perchance,
-    To Pennsylvania, or without rash vaunts,
-      To where the Penguin haunts!
-
-
-IV.
-
-    In times bygone, when each man cut his quill
-        With little Perryan skill,
-    What horrid, awkward, bungling tools of trade
-    Appear’d the writing implements home-made!
-    What Pens were sliced, hew’d, hack’d, and haggled out,
-    Slit or unslit, with many a various snout,
-    Aquiline, Roman, crooked, square, and snubby,
-          Stumpy and stubby;
-    Some capable of ladye-billets neat,
-    Some only fit for Ledger-keeping Clerk,
-    And some to grub down Peter Stubbs his mark,
-    Or smudge through some illegible receipt;
-    Others in florid caligraphic plans,
-    Equal to Ships, and wiggy Heads, and Swans!
-
-
-V.
-
-    To try in any common inkstands, then,
-    With all their miscellaneous stocks,
-        To find a decent pen,
-    Was like a dip into a lucky box:
-      You drew,--and got one very curly,
-    And split like endive in some hurly-burly;
-    The next, unslit, and square at end, a spade;
-    The third, incipient pop-gun, not yet made;
-    The fourth a broom; the fifth of no avail,
-        Turn’d upwards, like a rabbit’s tail;
-    And last, not least, by way of a relief,
-    A stump that Master Richard, James, or John,
-    Had tried his candle-cookery upon,
-          Making “roast-beef!”
-
-
-VI.
-
-        Not so thy Perryan Pens!
-          True to their M’s and N’s,
-    They do not with a whizzing zig-zag split,
-    Straddle, turn up their noses, sulk, and spit,
-          Or drop large dots,
-          Huge fullstop blots,
-      Where even semicolons were unfit.
-      They will not frizzle up, or, broom-like, drudge
-          In sable sludge--
-      Nay, bought at proper “Patent Perryan” shops,
-      They write good grammar, sense, and mind their stops;
-    Compose both prose and verse, the sad or merry--
-    For when the Editor, whose pains compile
-        The grown-up Annual, or the Juvenile,
-      Vaunteth his articles, not women’s, men’s,
-      But lays “by the most celebrated Pens,”
-      What means he but thy Patent Pens, my Perry?
-
-
-VII.
-
-        Pleasant they are to feel!
-    So firm! so flexible! composed of steel
-    So finely temper’d--fit for tenderest Miss
-        To give her passion breath,
-    Or Kings to sign the warrant stern of death--
-    But their supremest merit still is this,
-        Write with them all your days,
-    Tragedy, Comedy, all kinds of plays--
-    (No Dramatist should ever be without ’em)--
-        And, just conceive the bliss,--
-    There is so little of the goose aboot ’em,
-        One’s safe from any hiss!
-
-
-VIII.
-
-    Ah! who can paint that first great awful night,
-        Big with a blessing or a blight,
-    When the poor Dramatist, all fume and fret,
-    Fuss, fidget, fancy, fever, funking, fright,
-    Ferment, fault-fearing, faintness--more f’s yet:
-    Flushed, frigid, flurried, flinching, fitful, flat,--
-    Add famished, fuddled, and fatigued, to that;
-    Funeral, fate-foreboding--sits in doubt,
-    Or rather doubt with hope, a wretched marriage,
-    To see his Play upon the stage come out;
-    No stage to him! it is Thalia’s carriage,
-    And he is sitting on the spikes behind it,
-    Striving to look as if he didn’t mind it!
-
-
-IX.
-
-      Witness how Beazley vents upon his hat
-      His nervousness, meanwhile his fate is dealt:
-    He kneads, moulds, pummels it, and sits it flat,
-    Squeezes and twists it up, until the felt
-    That went a Beaver in, comes out a Rat!
-    Miss Mitford had mis-givings, and in fright,
-        Upon Rienzi’s night,
-    Gnaw’d up one long kid glove, and all her bag,
-        Quite to a rag.
-    Knowles has confess’d he trembled as for life
-        Afraid of his own “Wife;”
-    Poole told me that he felt a monstrous pail
-    Of water backing him, all down his spine,--
-    “The ice-brook’s temper”--pleasant to the chine!
-    For fear that Simpson and his Co. should fail.
-    Did Lord Glengall not frame a mental pray’r,
-    Wishing devoutly he was Lord knows where?
-    Nay, did not Jerrold, in enormous drouth,
-    While doubtful of Nell Gwynne’s eventful luck,
-        Squeeze out and suck
-    More oranges with his one fevered mouth,
-    Than Nelly had to hawk from North to South?
-    Yea, Buckstone, changing colour like a mullet,
-    Refused, on an occasion, once, twice, thrice,
-    From his best friend, an ice,
-    Lest it should hiss in his own red-hot gullet.
-
-
-X.
-
-    Doth punning Peake not sit upon the points
-    Of his own jokes, and shake in all his joints,
-          During their trial?
-          ’Tis past denial.
-    And does not Pocock, feeling, like a peacock,
-    All eyes upon him, turn to very meacock?
-    And does not Planché, tremulous and blank,
-    Meanwhile his personages tread the boards,
-          Seem goaded by sharp swords,
-    And call’d upon himself to “walk the plank?”
-    As for the Dances, Charles and George to boot,
-          What have they more
-    Of ease and rest, for sole of either foot,
-    Than bear that capers on a hotted floor?
-
-
-XI.
-
-    Thus pending--does not Mathews, at sad shift
-    For voice, croak like a frog in waters fenny?--
-    Serle seem upon the surly seas adrift?--
-    And Kenny think he’s going to Kilkenny?--
-    Haynes Bayly feel Old ditto, with the note
-    Of Cotton in his ear, a mortal grapple
-        About his arms, and Adam’s apples
-    Big as a fine Dutch codling in his throat?
-    Did Rodwell, on his chimney-piece, desire
-    Or not to take a jump into the fire?
-    Did Wade feel as composed as music can?
-    And was not Bernard his own Nervous Man?
-    Lastly, don’t Farley, a bewildered elf,
-    Quake at the Pantomime he loves to cater,
-    And ere its changes ring, transform himself?--
-        A frightful mug of human delf?
-    A spirit-bottle--empty of “the cratur”?
-        A leaden-platter ready for the shelf?
-        A thunderstruck dumb-waiter?
-
-
-XII.
-
-        To clench the fact,
-    Myself once guilty, of one small rash act,
-      Committed at the Surrey
-        Quite in a hurry,
-        Felt all this flurry,
-        Corporal worry,
-      And spiritual scurry,
-      Dram-devil--attic curry!
-        All going well
-        From prompter’s bell,
-        Until befel
-    A hissing at some dull imperfect dunce--
-              There’s no denying,
-    I felt in all four elements at once!
-    My head was swimming, while my arms were flying,
-    My legs for running--all the rest was frying!
-
-[Illustration: HIS-TRIONICS.]
-
-
-XIII.
-
-    Thrice welcome, then, for this peculiar use,
-        Thy pens so innocent of goose!
-    For this shall Dramatists, when they make merry,
-              Discarding Port and Sherry,
-                Drink--“Perry!”
-      Perry, whose fame, pennated, is let loose
-              To distant lands,
-      Perry, admitted on all hands,
-          Text, running, German, Roman,
-        For Patent Perryans approach’d by no man!
-        And when, ah me! far distant be the hour!
-        Pluto shall call thee to his gloomy bow’r,
-    Many shall be thy pensive mourners, many!
-    And Penury itself shall club its penny,
-    To raise thy monument in lofty place;
-    Higher than York’s, or any son of War;
-    Whilst Time all meaner effigies shall bury,
-            On due pentagonal base,
-    Shall stand the Parian, Perryan, perriwig’d Perry
-    Perch’d on the proudest peak of Penman Mawr!
-
-[Illustration: “PENNSYLVANIA.”]
-
-
-
-
-SKETCHES ON THE ROAD.
-
-THE CHECK-STRING.
-
-
-THOSE who have travelled much, as inside passengers in a long
-stage-coach, whilst they admired the facility of starting off with
-one, must have occasionally remarked the difficulty of stopping with
-it, just at the point where it would be convenient to be set down.
-An ailing man may not have voice enough to lock all the four wheels
-at once; and should he be, as is probable, a nervous man besides,
-he will not without some hesitation make up his mind to request of
-some stentorian neighbour the loan of a set of lungs. In a six-inside
-coach, the timid occupier of a middle seat has no chance whatever,
-unless to take advantage of the first casual halt, or an upset. Even
-in the four-inside vehicle, a weakly, shy traveller’s case is equally
-hopeless, supposing the passengers on the roof to have properly tucked
-up the skirts of their great and little coats. To a bold, brassy fellow
-even, with a tongue like a trumpet, it is anything but an easy affair
-to say woh! with any effect to a Dart that is flying at twelve miles
-within the hour. The coachman, who ought to hear, will not: the horses
-hear but do not understand: the coach cannot hear: the outsiders admire
-the pace too much to hear anything but the patter of the hoofs. At
-last, when he has succeeded, the stout gentleman with the big voice,
-who wants to run home, finds generally that he has a good hundred yards
-or two allowed him of law, measured, as the Irish always mete it out,
-_backwards_.
-
-It was after a more serious dilemma,--for a little nervous bashful
-man with a little squeaking voice like Punch’s, though he was not so
-fond of exhibiting it, after suffering himself to be carried two miles
-beyond his house, had at last fractured the small bone of his leg, by
-opening the door in despair and jumping out,--that a discussion ensued
-in the Brighton “Age” as to the best means of being let out to order.
-Many different methods had been proposed before the little florid plump
-gentleman in black delivered his opinion, with his back to the horses.
-
-“For my own part, ratiocinating on hackney-coaches, I should
-hypothetically propose check-strings.”
-
-“Lord forbid!” exclaimed a voice from the other seat, on the same side.
-Nobody remembered to have heard that voice before, from London to
-Crawley Common.
-
-The friend to check-strings seemed thunderstruck by the explosion. He
-screwed himself round to take a look at his neighbour--didn’t like him
-at all--turned back again--stole another look--liked him worse than
-before--then looked for the third time, and hated him. His seat became
-uneasy--he had found a choke-pear, very like a hedgehog, and very like
-a bull terrier, he could neither kill it nor let it alone. It clung to
-him like a burr which you pull off your hat that it may stick on your
-right-hand glove, thence to be transferred to the left-hand one, and
-so on alternately till you finally get rid of it on your pantaloons.
-The “Lord forbid,” like Macbeth’s “Amen,” stuck in his throat--it
-buzzed in his head like a fly in a horse’s ear. However, he held his
-uncomfortable peace till silence itself became insupportable. At last
-he broke out:
-
-“Humph! Doubtful as I am whether common coach conversation ought to
-be tied by strict rules of logic, still I cannot suppress the remark,
-that when one gentleman syllogistically brings forward a proposition
-of check-strings, for another gentleman to cry ‘Lord forbid,’ does
-not appear to my mind to be following a regular line of argument. But
-perhaps the forbidding gentleman will have the goodness to explain the
-colloquial anomaly.”
-
-The forbidding gentleman thus appealed to, good-humouredly apologised.
-It was a mere slip of the tongue, he said: the words escaped from him
-involuntarily; but his fellow-traveller would probably excuse him, in
-consideration of the fact, that on account of a check-string he had
-lost the only hope of affluence he ever had in his life.
-
-“Indeed, Sir! why then I excuse the colloquial irregularity with all my
-heart,” said the warm man, putting both his hands into his pockets;
-“but, upon my life, Sir, it must have been a very extraordinary
-consequence.”
-
-[Illustration: A CHINESE PUZZLE.]
-
-“A very simple one, Sir,” returned the other. “The facts are briefly
-these: my maternal uncle had lately returned from India with an immense
-fortune, a handsome portion of which was my own in expectance, on no
-worse authority than his own promise. He was a widower with an only
-daughter, with whom, and himself, I one evening found myself in the
-carriage, on our way to a dinner-party given by a nobleman, then
-intimately connected with East Indian affairs. We were very late:
-and my uncle, the Nabob, who rode backward, was extremely fidgety,
-insisting that we were going beyond our destination. Every other minute
-he was thrusting his head out of the front window to dispute with the
-coachman, who in truth, was a little less sober, and more obstinate,
-than became him. And so we went onwards, till my uncle’s temper, always
-irritable, was worked up almost to combustion. In such moods he was
-rather apt to give vent to serio-comic ebullitions; and my ill-fortune
-has gifted me with risible muscles of exquisite sensibility. I was
-in the very midst of an ill-smothered laugh, when my fair cousin,
-giving me a sudden push, and then clasping her hands, exclaimed that
-we were going past the house. I instantly jumped up and made for the
-check-string, but with no more effect than if I had pulled at anything
-else. Gracious Heaven! I had better have pulled the string of a
-shower-bath, full of scalding hot water, to pour itself on my devoted
-head!--By that one infernal pull, Sir, I pulled myself out of half a
-plum!”
-
-“A sad pull, indeed, Sir!” said the florid plump man in black.
-“But--humph--begging your pardon, Sir, I cannot really derive any such
-deduction from the premises.”
-
-[Illustration: “A SPLIT WITH DUCROW.”]
-
-“A moment’s patience, Sir,” continued the unfortunate coach-stopper.
-“Lord forbid check-strings,--Lord forbid all strings whatever! I was in
-despair, Sir. I could have sunk through the bottom of the carriage!--I
-believe I went down on my knees. I said everything I could think
-of--and begged fifty thousand pardons, but my uncle was obdurate. ‘Pray
-don’t mention it,’ he said, in his most caustic tone--‘it has saved me
-fifty thousand pounds. It’s a very good practical joke, although it
-will not read quite so well in my will.’”
-
-“But surely, Sir,” objected the plump man, “your uncle never acted on a
-conclusion, jumped to, as I may say, by such very imperfect inferences?”
-
-“You did not know my uncle, Sir,” answered the unfortunate kinsman,
-with a deep sigh. “But you shall judge of his character from the
-clause itself:--Item, I give and bequeath to my jocose nephew, Arthur
-Carruthers Oliphant, _for pulling his uncle’s pigtail_, the sum of one
-shilling, sterling.”
-
-
-
-
-THE UNDYING ONE.
-
-    “He shall not die.”--_Uncle Toby._
-
-
-I.
-
-    OF all the verses, grave or gay,
-      That ever whiled an hour,
-    I never knew a mingled lay
-      At once so sweet and sour,
-    As that by Ladye Norton spun,
-    And christened “The Undying One.”
-
-
-II.
-
-    I’m very certain that she drew
-      A portrait, when she penn’d
-    That picture of a perfect Jew,
-      Whose days will never end:
-    I’m sure it means my Uncle Lunn,
-    For he is an Undying One.
-
-
-III.
-
-    Those twenty years he’s been the same,
-      And may be twenty more;
-    But Memory’s Pleasures only claim
-      His features for a score;
-    Yet in that time the change is none--
-    The image of th’ Undying One!
-
-[Illustration: AN INN-QUEST.]
-
-
-IV.
-
-    They say our climate’s damp and cold,
-      And lungs are tender things;
-    My uncle’s much abroad and old,
-      But when “King Cole” he sings,
-    A Stentor’s voice, enough to stun,
-    Declares him an Undying One.
-
-
-V.
-
-    Others have died from needle-pricks,
-      And very slender blows;
-    From accidental slips or kicks,
-      Or bleedings at the nose;
-    Or choked by grape-stone, or a bun--
-    But he is the Undying One!
-
-
-VI.
-
-    A soldier once, he once endur’d
-      A bullet in the breast--
-    It might have kill’d--but only cured
-      An asthma in the chest;
-    He was not to be slain with gun,
-    For he is the Undying One.
-
-
-VII.
-
-    In water once too long he dived,
-      And all supposed him beat,
-    He seem’d so cold--but he revived
-      To have another heat,
-    Just when we thought his race was run,
-    And came in fresh--th’ Undying One!
-
-
-VIII.
-
-    To look at Meux’s once he went,
-      And tumbled in the vat--
-    And greater Jobs their lives have spent
-      In lesser boils than that,--
-    He left the beer quite underdone,
-    No bier to the Undying One!
-
-
-IX.
-
-    He’s been from strangulation black,
-      From bile, of yellow hue,
-    Scarlet from fever’s hot attack,
-      From cholera morbus blue;
-    Yet with these dyes--to use a pun--
-    He still is the Undying One.
-
-
-X.
-
-    He rolls in wealth, yet has no wife
-      His three per Cents. to share;
-    He never married in his life,
-      Or flirted with the fair;
-    The sex he made a point to shun,
-    For beauty an Undying One.
-
-
-XI.
-
-    To judge him by the present signs,
-      The future by the past,
-    So quick he lives, so slow declines,
-      The Last Man won’t be last,
-    But buried underneath a ton
-    Of mould by the Undying One!
-
-
-XII.
-
-    Next Friday week, his birth-day boast,
-      His ninetieth year he spends,
-    And I shall have his health to toast
-      Amongst expectant friends,
-    And wish--it really sounds like fun--
-      Long life to the Undying One!
-
-
-
-
-A GIPSY PARTY.
-
-    “Come stain your cheeks with nut or berry,
-    You’ll find a gipsy’s life is merry.”--GIPSY GLEE.
-
-
-I DO not know what imp of mischief could have put such a fancy into
-the dreaming head of Mrs. Carnaby, except Puck--but on a fine morning
-in August she awoke with a determination to get up a gipsy party, and
-have a day’s pleasure “under the green-wood tree.” She opened her
-mind therefore to Mr. C----, as soon as he had opened his eyes, and
-before breakfast they had arranged the whole affair. Hornsey Wood was
-stale, and Norwood was rejected, for the very paradoxical reason that
-it was such a haunt for Gipsies; and Mrs. Carnaby meant to take even
-her youngest children. After a good deal of debating, Hainault was the
-Forest fixed upon;--it lay so handy to Whitechapel, and the redletter
-day was marked to be the Wednesday in the following week, because then
-Master Carnaby would only lose half a day’s schooling.
-
-Accordingly, on the Wednesday, the Dryads of Wanstead were startled
-by the rumble of a well-laden tax-cart up that avenue which once led
-to a princely mansion; and the vehicle at last stopped, and set down
-its insides and outsides just where the lines of trees branch off into
-another verdant alley. “It was,” Mrs. Carnaby remarked, “a delicious
-green spot, and very handy to the Green Man for getting porter.” Mrs.
-C---- was assisted out of the cart; and then Miss C---- was lifted out
-by Mr. Hodges; and then the children were lifted out by the Mother; and
-then the nursemaid, an awkward plainlooking girl that nobody helped,
-tumbled out. In the mean time, Master C---- jumped out, all agog after
-blackberrying and birdnesting; and had swarmed half up a tree before
-his mother’s vigilance discovered, at a single glance, that he was
-tearing his trowsers, and had his best clothes on. This was a bad
-setting out for the boy; and the horse was not better, for directly
-he got out of harness, and felt himself free and at grass, after two
-or three preliminary kicks and plunges, it occurred to him to indulge
-in a roll, and so he rolled over a pigeon pie that was unfortunately
-unpacked, and finished by getting very much up with his fore-legs in
-a basket of ginger beer. But it was only a moment of enthusiasm; and,
-like other old nags, he betook himself to eating his green grass salad
-as gravely as a judge. None of the performers were fortunate in their
-debut. The first thing Mrs. Carnaby did in her hurry to save the pop,
-was to pop down one of the children on the basket of knives and forks;
-but it was a sharp child and soon got up again: and the first thing the
-other twin did was to trip over a stump, and fall, as Betty nursemaid
-said, “with its face in a fuz.” The first thing Mr. Hodges did, was
-to take Miss Carnaby round the waist and give her a smacking kiss; in
-return for which, as her first act, she gave him a playful push, that
-sent him, with his white ducks, into a muddy miniature pond, that had
-recently been stirred up by a cow in search of a cold bath. The first
-thing that Mr. C---- did was to recommend some brandy as a preventive
-against catching cold; but the last thing the brandy bottle had done
-had been to stay at home in the cupboard. Mr. Hodges, therefore, walked
-off to the Green Man for his health’s sake; and Master Carnaby sneaked
-off, nobody knew where, for the sake of blackberries;--while the
-Nursemaid, for the sake of society, took a romantic walk with the two
-twins, and a strange footman. Gipsies are a wandering race, and all the
-performers topped their parts; the very horse roamed away like a horse
-that had neither parish nor settlement: and Mr. Carnaby would have gone
-roaming after him, if his Wife and Daughter had not hung round his neck
-and made him swear not to leave ’em till the others returned, which was
-afterwards softened down to taking a little walk, provided he didn’t
-go out of sight and hearing. In the mean time Mrs. and Miss C---- laid
-the cloth, and began to review the eatables, not without lamenting over
-the smash of the pigeon pie; and when they came to plan their second
-course they found that the chief remove, a cold round of beef, had been
-pinned on the way down by a favourite bull-dog, that Master Carnaby had
-smuggled into the party. Luckily for the dog, he had also gone roving,
-with the whole forest before him, as naturally as if he had belonged to
-Bampfylde Moore Carew, the King of the Gipsies.
-
-[Illustration: COIL AND RECOIL.]
-
-[Illustration: DEADLY NIGHTSHADE.]
-
-Mrs. Carnaby was one of those characters emphatically called fidgets;
-she never rested till each individual came back, and she never rested
-when they did. Mr. C. was the first to return, and not in the first
-of tempers. He had been done out of his long-anticipated rural walk
-by setting his foot, before he had gone a hundred yards, on a yard of
-snake, and it had frightened him so that Mrs. Carnaby expected “it
-would turn his whole mash of blood, and give him the yellow jaundice.”
-Mr. Hodges came in second, but to the impatient eye of Miss C.
-certainly did not proceed from the Green Man with the straightness of a
-bullet from a rifle. Master Carnaby was a good third, for he had been
-well horse-whipped, just as he had got three little red blackberries
-and five thorns in his fingers, by a gentleman who did not approve of
-his trespassing upon his grounds. Boxer the bull-dog was fourth; he
-came back on three-legs, with his brindle well peppered with number
-six by the gamekeeper, to cure him of worrying park rabbits. In fact,
-poor Boxer, as Mrs. C. exclaimed, “was bleeding like a pig,” and the
-grateful animal acknowledged her compassionate notice by going and
-rubbing his shot hide against her shot silk, in return for which he
-got a blow quite hard enough to shiver the stick of something between
-a parasol and an umbrella. As for the nurse-maid and the twins they
-did not return for an hour, to the infinite horror of the mother; but
-just as they were all sitting down to dinner Betsey appeared with her
-charge, walked off their feet, with their “pretty mouths all besmeared”
-with blue and red juice; but no one of the party was botanist enough
-to tell whether the berries they were munching were hips and haws, or
-bilberries, or deadly nightshade, but maternal anxiety made sure it
-was the “rank pison.” Accordingly dinner was postponed, and they set
-to get up an extempore fire to make the kettle hot, and as soon as the
-water was warm enough, these “two pretty babes” were well drenched,
-and were soon as perfectly uncomfortable as they had been two months
-before in a rough steam trip to Margate. As soon as peace was restored
-it transpired, from an examination of the children, and a very cross
-examination of the nurse-maid, that they had met with a _real_ gipsy
-woman in the forest who had told Betty’s fortune, but had omitted to
-prognosticate that her mistress would give her warning on the spot, and
-that _her_ gipsying would end, as it actually did, in finding herself
-suddenly out of place in the middle of a forest. Like other servants,
-when they lose a comfortable situation, “some natural tears she shed,”
-but did not wipe them soon, as did “our general mother,” for the very
-excellent reason that she had spread her pocket handkerchief on the
-ground to sit upon, somewhere between Wanstead and Walthamstow, and had
-left it as a waif to the lord of the manor.
-
-[Illustration: BACKING OUT OF GOING TO MARKET.]
-
-Dinner time then came again, to the especial delight of the two empty
-children, though, thanks to the horse and dog, it was principally
-broken victuals. But on sitting down and counting heads Master C. had
-a second time absconded during the last bustle; and, as his mother
-could not touch a morsel for anxiety, Mr. Carnaby was obliged to set
-out fasting to look for him, and had soon the satisfaction of finding
-him sitting hatless crying in a wet ditch, and scraping a suit of brown
-off a suit of blue with an old oyster shell. His father, in the first
-transport of anger and hunger, gave him what boys call “a regular
-larruping,” then a good rubbing down with a bunch of fern, and then
-brought him back to the cold collation, with the comfortable threat
-that he should go without his dinner. As soon as the culprit could
-explain for sobbing, he told them that “he had gone for a little walk,
-like, and saw the most capital donkey with a saddle and bridle feeding
-wild about the forest as if he belonged to nobody, and he just got on
-him like, like they used to do at Margate; and then the donkey set off
-full tear, and never stopped till he came to a tent of gipsies in the
-middle of the wood; and they all set upon him, and swore at him like
-anything for running away with their donkey; and then all of a sudden
-he lost his hat and his handkerchief, and his money out of his pockets
-like conjuring; then they told him to run for his life, and so he did,
-and as for the mud it was all along of jumping over a hedge that had no
-other side to it.” This intelligence threw Mrs. Carnaby into an agony
-of horror which could only be pacified by their immediately packing up
-and removing, eatables and all, to a less lonesome place by the side
-of the road, an operation that was performed by their all pulling and
-pushing at the cart, as the horse had taken French leave of absence.
-
-It was now Miss Carnaby’s turn to be discomfited: her retiring
-disposition made her wince under the idea of dining in public; for
-being market day at Romford, they were over-looked by plenty of farmers
-and pig butchers: consequently, after a very miffy dialogue with her
-mother, the young lady took herself off, as she was desired, with “her
-romantical notions,” to a place of more solitude, and Mr. Hodges, as in
-gallantry bound, postponed his dinner till his tea to keep her company.
-In the mean time, Betsey, who had been sent up to the Green Man for
-the porter, returned with the empty tankard, and a terrified tale of
-being “cotch’d hold on by a ruffian in the wood, that had drunk up all
-the beer to all their very good healths.” The first impulse of Mr.
-Carnaby was to jump up to do justice on the vagabond, but Mrs. C----
-had the presence of mind to catch hold of his coat-flaps so abruptly,
-that before he could well feel his legs, he found himself sitting in
-a large plum pie, which the children had just set their hearts upon;
-of course it did not mend his temper to hear the shout from a dozen
-ragged boys who were looking on; and in the crisis of his vexation,
-he vented such a fervent devil’s blessing on gipsy parties, and all
-that proposed them, that Mrs. Carnaby was obliged to take it up, and
-to tell him sharply, what in reality was true enough, that “if people
-did have gipsy parties, it didn’t follow that their stupid husbands
-was to sit down on plum pies.” Heaven knows to what size and shape
-this little quarrel might have ripened, but for the appearance of Miss
-Carnaby, who, with a terrified exclamation sat herself down, and after
-a vain attempt to recover, went off into a strong fit of what her
-mother called “kicking hysterics.” The cause was soon explained by the
-appearance of Mr. Hodges, with one eye poached black, and a dog-bite
-in the calf of his leg, because “he had only stood looking on at two
-men setting wires for rabbits, thinking to himself if he watched them
-well he could learn how to do it.” Fortunately, Miss Carnaby came to
-just in time to concur with her father and Mr. Hodges in the opinion,
-that the best thing they could all do was to pack up and go home, but
-which was stoutly combated by Mrs. Carnaby, who insisted that she
-was resolved to take tea in a wood for once in her life, and she was
-seconded by the children and Master C----, who said they hadn’t had any
-pleasure yet. It was an unanswerable argument; sticks were collected,
-a fire was made, the kettle boiled, the tea-things were set in order,
-the bread and butter was cut, and pleasure began to smile on the gipsy
-party so placidly that Mr. Hodges was encouraged to begin playing “In
-my Cottage near a Wood,” on the key bugle, but was obliged to break
-off in the middle, on finding that it acted as a bugle call to a corps
-of observation, who came and stood round to see “Rural Felicity.”
-Mrs. Carnaby, however, was happy; but “there is many a slip between
-the tea-cup and the lip.” She was in the triumphant fact of pouring
-the hot water on her best souchong, in her best china tea-pot, when
-a very well-charged gun went off just on the other side of the park
-palings, and Mrs. Carnaby had not been born like her Grace, old Sarah
-of Marlborough, “before nerves came in fashion.” The tea-kettle dropped
-from her hand upon the tea-pot, which it dashed to atoms, and then lay
-on its side, hot watering the daisies and the dandelions that had the
-luck to grow near it. “Misfortunes never come single,” and the gun,
-therefore, acted like a double one in its inflictions; for no sooner
-did Boxer recognise its sound than he jumped up, and with an alarming
-howl dashed through the rest of the tea service, as if he had absorbed
-another ounce of number six: a fresh shout from the bystanders welcomed
-this new disaster, and with the true spirit of “biting a bitten cur,”
-they began to heap embarrassments on the disconcerted gipsyers. They
-kept pitching sticks into the fire till it grew a bonfire, and made
-cockshies of the remaining crockery; some audacious boys even helped
-themselves to bread and butter, as if on the principle that the open
-air ought to keep open house. As there were too many assailants to
-chastise, the only remedy was to pack up and take to the road as
-fast as they could, with a horse which they found with two broken
-knees, the consequence of his being too curious in the construction
-of a gravel-pit. “You may say what you like,” said Mr. Carnaby, in
-his summing up, “but for my part I must say of gipsying, that it’s
-impossible to take to it without being regularly ‘done brown.’”
-
-[Illustration: THE FORTUNE HUNTER.]
-
-
-
-
-COCKLE _v._ CACKLE.
-
-
-    THOSE who much read advertisements and bills,
-      Must have seen puffs of Cockle’s Pills,
-        Call’d Anti-bilious--
-    Which some Physicians sneer at, supercilious,
-    But which we are assured, if timely taken,
-        May save your liver and bacon;
-    Whether or not they really give one ease,
-        I, who have never tried,
-        Will not decide;
-    But no two things in union go like these--
-    Viz.--Quacks and Pills--save Ducks and Pease.
-
-    Now Mrs. W. was getting sallow,
-    Her lilies not of the white kind, but yellow,
-    And friends portended was preparing for
-        A human Pâté Périgord;
-    She was, indeed, so very far from well,
-    Her Son, in filial fear, procured a box
-    Of those said pellets to resist Bile’s shocks,
-    And--tho’ upon the ear it strangely knocks--
-    To save her by a Cockle from a shell!
-
-    But Mrs. W., just like Macbeth,
-    Who very vehemently bids us “throw
-    Bark to the Bow-wows,” hated physic so,
-    It seem’d to share “the bitterness of Death:”
-    Rhubarb--Magnesia--Jalap, and the kind--
-    Senna--Steel--Assa-fœtida, and Squills--
-    Powder or Draught--but least her throat inclined
-    To give a course to Boluses or Pills:
-    No--not to save her life, in lung or lobe,
-    For all her lights or all her liver’s sake,
-    Would her convulsive thorax undertake,
-    Only one little uncelestial globe!
-
-    ’Tis not to wonder at, in such a case,
-    If she put by the pill-box in a place
-    For linen rather than for drugs intended--
-    Yet for the credit of the pills let’s say
-        After they thus were stow’d away,
-        Some of the linen mended;
-    But Mrs. W. by disease’s dint,
-    Kept getting still more yellow in her tint,
-    When lo! her second son, like elder brother,
-    Marking the hue on the parental gills,
-    Brought a new charge of Anti-tumeric Pills,
-    To bleach the jaundiced visage of his Mother--
-    Who took them--in her cupboard--like the other.
-
-        “Deeper and deeper, still,” of course,
-        The fatal colour daily grew in force;
-    Till daughter W. newly come from Rome,
-    Acting the self-same filial, pillial, part,
-    To cure Mamma, another dose brought home
-    Of Cockles;--not the Cockles of her heart!
-        These going where the others went before,
-        Of course she had a very pretty store;
-    And then--some hue of health her cheek adorning,
-        The Medicine so good must be,
-        They brought her dose on dose, which she
-    Gave to the upstairs cupboard, “night and morning.”
-    Till wanting room at last, for other stocks,
-    Out of the window one fine day she pitch’d
-    The pillage of each box, and quite enrich’d
-    The feed of Mister Burrell’s hens and cocks,--
-        A little Barber of a by-gone day,
-                  Over the way
-    Whose stock in trade, to keep the least of shops,
-    Was one great head of Kemble,--that is, John,
-    Staring in plaster, with a _Brutus_ on,
-    And twenty little Bantam fowls--with _crops_.
-    Little Dame W. thought when through the sash
-        She gave the physic wings,
-        To find the very things
-    So good for bile, so bad for chicken rash,
-    For thoughtless cock, and unreflecting pullet!
-    But while they gathered up the nauseous nubbles,
-    Each peck’d itself into a peck of troubles,
-    And brought the hand of Death upon its gullet.
-
-    They might as well have addled been, or ratted,
-    For long before the night--ah woe betide
-    The Pills! each suicidal Bantam died
-                    Unfatted!
-
-        Think of poor Burrell’s shock,
-    Of Nature’s debt to see his hens all payers,
-    And laid in death as Everlasting Layers,
-    With Bantam’s small Ex-Emperor, the Cock,
-    In ruffled plumage and funereal hackle,
-    Giving, undone by Cockle, a last Cackle!
-    To see as stiff as stone, his unlive stock,
-    It really was enough to move his block.
-    Down on the floor he dash’d, with horror big,
-    Mr. Bell’s third wife’s mother’s coachman’s wig;
-    And with a tragic stare like his own Kemble,
-    Burst out with natural emphasis enough,
-        And voice that grief made tremble,
-    Into that very speech of sad Macduff--
-    “What!--all my pretty chickens and their dam,
-        At one fell swoop!--
-        Just when I’d bought a coop
-    To see the poor lamented creatures cram!”
-
-        After a little of this mood,
-        And brooding over the departed brood,
-    With razor he began to ope each craw,
-    Already turning black, as black as coals;
-    When lo! the undigested cause he saw--
-        “Pison’d by goles!”
-
-    To Mrs. W.’s luck a contradiction,
-    Her window still stood open to conviction;
-    And by short course of circumstantial labour,
-    He fix’d the guilt upon his adverse neighbour;--
-    Lord! how he rail’d at her: declaring now,
-    He’d bring an action ere next Term of Hilary,
-    Then, in another moment, swore a vow,
-    He’d make her do pill-penance in the pillory!
-    She, meanwhile distant from the dimmest dream
-    Of combating with guilt, yard-arm or arm-yard,
-    Lapp’d in a paradise of tea and cream;
-    When up ran Betty with a dismal scream--
-    “Here’s Mr. Burrell, Ma’am, with all his farm-yard!”
-    Straight in he came, unbowing and unbending,
-        With all the warmth that iron and a barber
-                Can harbour;
-    To dress the head and front of her offending,
-    The fuming phial of his wrath uncorking;
-    In short, he made her pay him altogether,
-    In hard cash, very _hard_, for ev’ry feather,
-    Charging of course, each Bantam as a Dorking;
-    Nothing could move him, nothing make him supple,
-    So the sad dame unpocketing her loss,
-    Had nothing left but to sit hands across,
-    And see her poultry, “going down ten couple.”
-
-[Illustration: HALFPENNY HATCH.]
-
-    Now birds by poison slain,
-    As venom’d dart from Indian’s hollow cane,
-    Are edible; and Mrs. W.’s thrift,--
-        She had a thrifty vein,--
-    Destined one pair for supper to make shift,--
-    Supper as usual at the hour of ten:
-    But ten o’clock arrived and quickly pass’d,
-    Eleven--twelve--and one o’clock at last,
-    Without a sign of supper even then!
-    At length, the speed of cookery to quicken,
-    Betty was called, and with reluctant feet,
-        Came up at a white heat--
-    “Well, never I see chicken like them chicken!
-    My saucepans, they have been a pretty while in ’em!
-    Enough to stew them, if it comes to that,
-    To flesh and bones, and perfect rags; but drat
-    Those Anti-biting Pills! there is no bile in ’em!”
-
-
-
-
-A LAWYER’S LETTER.
-
-
-_To Mr. Richard Walton, 32, Lincoln’s Inn._
-
-    DEAR DICK,
-
-IN re Pedro--Pike, Row, Badgery, and Crump, Mr. Theodore Hook’s
-attorneys, offered three years ago, and continued the allowance
-up to last Easter Term, to give me, with unexampled liberality,
-eighteen shillings per week as copying clerk, and to undertake the
-management of the Common Law--attend to the Chancery Department--do the
-out-door business--make out Bills of Costs--and make myself generally
-useful--which I have been doing as long as my health permitted. Not
-being strong, though with an attachment to the profession, I have been
-compelled to withdraw my record, and to sue out a Writ of Certiorari to
-carry my line of life into another court. Hearing that Don Pedro was
-about to bring an action against Don Miguel and Company, and that lots
-of John Does and Richard Roes were wanted, I took a retainer from an
-agent of the great Portuguese professional gentleman, and have really
-embarked in the cause. Being out here on the circuit, as one might call
-it (Mr. Chief Justice Sartorius goes it), and knowing the interest you
-take in my verdicts, I shall write at intervals the particulars of
-plaintiff’s demand, and account of set-off on the part of the enemy’s
-fleet, or Defendant. Pray call on Mr. Wilson, the Common Law Clerk at
-Pike, Row, and Co., and tell him I have four hours to myself and a
-chance of being paid, but do this if possible without the knowledge of
-the Principals. White of the same office, when I enlisted, was to have
-taken the benefit of the act, but on mustering at Gravesend, he did not
-attend the roll call, and was struck off the Rolls. I can’t but say,
-putting Truth on her oath in the Admiralty Court, that when the Blue
-Peter gave legal notice to quit, I felt some regret at leaving a land
-where I might have been, so to speak, a tenant at will. Nor was it much
-better when I came to the Nore. I heartily wished, with Mr. Matthews,
-that if Britannia does rule the waves, she would rule them evener! but
-it was “rule refused.” The sea ran very rough, and you will understand
-me when I say I took nothing by my motion. There was the thought of my
-mother, besides, and the numberless feelings for which, though matters
-of everyday practice, it is difficult to show cause.
-
-You remember Sugden with Hart & Co., and will not be surprised to hear
-that he volunteered to convince Don Miguel of his defective title.
-A few hours, however, sufficed to disgust him with conveyancing, as
-it is practised in the Marine Courts; and I heard him, by a verbal
-instrument, assign over with technical formality, the whole ship to the
-Devil, his Heirs, Executors, Administrators, and Assigns.
-
-As for Butterworth, the Captain gave instructions with regard to the
-stays, and Butterworth in going aloft fell overboard. We thought for
-some time that he was dead, but after rubbing, and other means of
-revival, we had the satisfaction of seeing him moving for a new trial,
-and that he was beginning _de novo_.
-
-You may conceive, professionally, our joy at entering the Douro with
-a prospect of being invited within the Bar,--but the anchors were
-instructed to stay proceedings, and we stayed the same. As I took notes
-of what happened afterwards, I will give you a rough draft.
-
-    _Michaelmas Term, Oct. 31._ Admiral took Counsel’s opinion with
-    regard to the Fort of St. Michael. Held that an action would lie.
-    Judgment affirmed.
-
-    _Nov. 2._ Action of assault and battery. Admiral’s ship opened the
-    case, and the others followed on the same side. Hills crowded with
-    witnesses. Enemy’s damages laid at a hundred and fifty men. Tax off
-    a hundred.
-
-[Illustration: DRAKE DISPERSING THE ARMADA.]
-
-    3. Discovering flaws and amending same. At intervals term reports.
-    Pollock died of his wounds, and was struck off the paper. Gave him
-    an undertaking.
-
-    4. _A dies non._ Poor Horne seized with lockjaw, and preparing for
-    the long vacation.
-
-    5. Notice of action. Enemy’s Fleet put in an appearance, but _non
-    pros_. Horne demised.
-
-    6. Joined issue with enemy’s flag ship. Wetherell killed by a ball
-    lodging in the Inner Temple, and Denman subpœnaed by a bullet out
-    of the main-top. Enemy attempted to put an officer and fifty men in
-    possession--but we served them with an ejectment. Night coming on,
-    agreed to withdraw a juror.
-
-    7. A violent storm, and a sail under a distress. Taken in execution
-    by a wave,--levied on longboat and three men, and all the hen-coops.
-
-    8. Fell in with a Portuguese brig, and lodged a detainer. Have not
-    received my share of prize, but have got a cognovit.
-
-    9. Enemy moved for a new trial. Bore up and fired a broadside;
-    replied to same. Admiral endeavoured, by intercepting the rear-most
-    ships, to cut off the entail. Boarding again,--obliged to fight
-    with all my Power of Attorney. Gave quarter to one man, he was such
-    a special pleader. Verdict--drawn battle.
-
-    10. Chitty fell overboard from the mizen chains. Action of trover
-    failed. Filed a bill of him in Ocean’s Chancery, and sent an office
-    copy to his Widow.
-
-    11. Enemy brought a fresh action. Boarding again, and obliged to
-    defend in person. Enemy nonsuited with costs.
-
-To abbreviate pleadings, you will see that our time has been Term time.
-Plenty of work at overhours, and I am sorry to say no extra charge. But
-I am not going to take a bill of exceptions. I comfort myself for the
-loss of my arm--I have lost that limb of the law, Dick--by reflecting
-that I am now like Nelson, except the blind eye, and that I do not
-follow the Hamiltonian system. Sometimes, however, as I look homeward,
-and remember “dear Morton,” I sigh to join you by a _Surrey-joinder_,
-and to taste your _Surrey-butter_. I think that is the legal mode of
-expressing it.
-
-Nothing can behave better than our men--from the principals down to the
-juniors. They fight as if they belonged to Lyon’s Inn. However, a good
-many have been ticked off,--including Tyndale, Thessiger, Phillips,
-Spankie, Scarlett, Gurney, Wilde, Burney, and some others of our
-acquaintance, who have received a general release. For my own part----
-
-
-[LETTER ENCLOSING THE ABOVE.]
-
-    SIR.
-
-    Am sorry to Say the man as writ the Inclosed letter, with a bit of
-    a log, fell Down the Main Hatchway on the 16th instant at 2 P. M.
-    Was carried down to Cockpit. But the Doctor pronounced it a Bad
-    Job, and after saying O Law three times was a Corps. He left no
-    Will nor no property, and was Sowed up and heaved overboard, same
-    day in lat. 41, 5 N., long. 8, 50 W.
-
-    I take the Liberty of writing This that you may inform Parents,
-    provided there’s father or mother, as well as to his widow and
-    children, if so be. Should you be encouraged to come out to us in
-    your friend’s Place, you will be heartily welcome, and lots of as
-    jolly good fighting as hearts can wish. So no more at present from
-
-    Your Humble Servant
-
-    THOMAS BENYON.
-
-N.B. Go to the Duncan’s Head in Wapping, and Captain Bligh will tell
-you all about the Bounty. That’s if you mean to ’list.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: “I HAVE A SILENT SORROW HERE.”]
-
-
-
-
-THE SWEEP’S COMPLAINT.
-
-    “I like to meet a sweep--such as come forth with the dawn, or
-    somewhat earlier, with their little professional notes, sounding
-    like the peep, peep, of a young sparrow.”--ESSAYS OF ELIA.
-
-    ----“A voice cried Sweep no more!
-    Macbeth hath murdered sweep.”--SHAKSPEARE.
-
-
-                  ONE morning ere my usual time
-                  I rose, about the seventh chime,
-                  When little stunted boys that climb
-                    Still linger in the street:
-                  And as I walked, I saw indeed
-                  A sample of the sooty breed,
-                  Though he was rather run to seed,
-                    In height above five feet.
-                  A mongrel tint he seem’d to take,
-                  Poetic simile to make,
-                  DAY through his MARTIN ’gan to break,
-                    White overcoming jet.
-                  From side to side he cross’d oblique,
-                  Like Frenchman who has friends to seek,
-                  And yet no English word can speak,
-                    He walk’d upon the fret:
-                  And while he sought the dingy job,
-                  His lab’ring breast appear’d to throb
-                  And half a hiccup half a sob
-                    Betray’d internal woe.
-                  To cry the cry he had by rote
-                  He yearn’d, but law forbade the note,
-                  Like Chanticleer with roupy throat,
-                    He gaped--but not a crow!
-                  I watch’d him, and the glimpse I snatch’d
-                  Disclosed his sorry eyelids patch’d
-                  With red, as if the soot had catch’d
-                    That hung about the lid;
-                  And soon I saw the tear-drop stray,
-                  He did not care to brush away;
-                  Thought I the cause he will betray--
-                    And thus at last he did.
-
-[Illustration: A WIND-FALL.]
-
-    Well, here’s a pretty go! here’s a Gagging Act, if ever there was a
-        gagging!
-    But I’m bound the members as silenced us, in doing it had plenty of
-        magging.
-    They had better send us all off, they had, to the School for the
-        Deaf and Dumb,
-    To unlarn us our mother tongues, and to make signs and be regularly
-        mum.
-    But they can’t undo natur--as sure as ever the morning begins to
-        peep,
-    Directly I open my eyes, I can’t help calling out Sweep
-    As natural as the sparrows among the chimbley-pots that say Cheep!
-    For my own part I find my suppress’d voice very uneasy,
-    And comparable to nothing but having your tissue stopt when you are
-        sneezy.
-    Well, it’s all up with us! tho’ I suppose we mustn’t cry all up.
-    Here’s a precious merry Christmas, I’m blest if I can earn either
-        bit or sup!
-    If crying Sweep, of mornings, is going beyond quietness’s border,
-    Them as pretends to be fond of silence oughtn’t to cry hear, hear,
-        and order, order.
-    I wonder Mr. Sutton, as we’ve sut-on too, don’t sympathise with us
-    As a Speaker what don’t speak, and that’s exactly our own cus.
-    God help us if we don’t not cry, how are we to pursue our callings?
-    I’m sure we’re not half so bad as other businesses with their
-        bawlings.
-    For instance, the general postmen, that at six o’clock go about
-        ringing,
-    And wake up all the babbies that their mothers have just got to
-        sleep with singing.
-    Greens oughtn’t to be cried no more than blacks--to do the unpartial
-        job,
-    If they bring in a Sooty Bill, they ought to have brought in a Dusty
-        Bob.
-    Is a dustman’s voice more sweet than ourn, when he comes a seeking
-        arter the cinders,
-    Instead of a little boy like a blackbird in spring, singing merrily
-        under your windows?
-    There’s the omnibus cads as plies in Cheapside, and keeps calling
-        out Bank and City;
-    Let his Worship, the Mayor, decide if our call of Sweep is not just
-        as pretty.
-    I can’t see why the Jews should be let go about crying Old Close
-        thro their hooky noses,
-    And Christian laws should be ten times more hard than the old stone
-        laws of Moses.
-    Why isn’t the mouths of the muffin-men compell’d to be equally shut?
-    Why, because Parliament members eat muffins, but they never eat no
-        sut.
-    Next year there won’t be any May-day at all, we shan’t have no heart
-        to dance,
-    And Jack in the Green will go in black like mourning for our
-        mischance;
-    If we live as long as May, that’s to say, through the hard winter
-        and pinching weather,
-    For I don’t see how we’re to earn enough to keep body and soul
-        together.
-    I only wish Mr. Wilberforce or some of them that pities the niggers,
-    Would take a peep down in our cellars, and look at our miserable
-        starving figures,
-    A-sitting idle on our empty sacks, and all ready to eat each other,
-    And a brood of little ones crying for bread to a heart-breaking
-        Father and Mother.
-    They haven’t a rag of clothes to mend, if their mothers had thread
-        and needles,
-    But crawl naked about the cellars, poor things, like a swarm of
-        common black beadles.
-    If they’d only inquired before passing the Act and taken a few such
-        peeps,
-    I don’t think that any real gentleman would have set his face
-        against sweeps.
-    Climbin’s an ancient respectable art, and if History’s of any vally,
-    Was recommended by Queen Elizabeth to the great Sir Walter Raleigh,
-    When he wrote on a pane of glass how I’d climb, if the way I only
-        knew,
-    And she writ beneath, if your heart’s afeard, don’t venture up the
-        flue.
-    As for me I was always loyal, and respected all powers that are
-        higher,
-    But how can I now say God save the King, if I an’t to be a Cryer?
-    There’s London milk, that’s one of the cries, even on Sunday the law
-        allows,
-    But ought black sweeps, that are human beasts, to be worser off than
-        black cows?
-    Do _we_ go calling about, when it’s church time, like the noisy
-        Billingsgate vermin,
-    And disturb the parson with “All alive O!” in the middle of a
-        funeral sermon?
-    But the fish won’t keep, not the mackarel won’t, is the cry of the
-        Parliament elves,
-    Every thing, except the sweeps I think, is to be allowed to keep
-        themselves!
-    Lord help us! what’s to become of us if we mustn’t cry no more?
-    We shan’t do for black mutes to go a standing at a death’s door.
-    And we shan’t do to emigrate, no not even to the Hottentot nations,
-    For as time wears on, our black will wear off, and then think of our
-        situations!
-    And we should not do, in lieu of black-a-moor footmen, to serve
-        ladies of quality nimbly,
-    For when we we’re drest in our sky-blue and silver, and large
-        frills, all clean and neat, and white silk stockings, if they
-        pleased to desire us to sweep the hearth, we couldn’t resist the
-        chimbley.
-
-[Illustration: A REVERSE IN BUSINESS.]
-
-
-
-
-LETTER FROM AN OLD SPORTSMAN.
-
-
-    DEAR SIR,
-
-I RECEAVED your’s of the first last, wich I should have anser’d it
-sooner, only I have ad the Roomatiz in my fingers, so you must Pleas to
-excus my crampd hand.
-
-As to my Sporting Reminis-cences, as you are pleasd to say, I have
-look’d them out in the dixenary, and kno verry well what it is. I beg
-leaf to Say, I have forgot all my recolections, and can not bring to
-mind any of my old Rememberances.
-
-As for Hunting, I shall never take a fence at it agen, altho I sumtims
-Ride to cover on the old Gray, wich is now be come quite Wite. The last
-tim I went out, we dru Hazelmere copses down to Broxley wood; then
-we dru Broxley wood over to Fox thorp; then we dru Fox thorp over to
-Middle ford, and then we dru Middle ford, in short, it was all drawing
-and no painting for want of a brush.
-
-Sir William Chase coming to be his father’s hare, he set up a coarsing
-club, but being short of long dogs, and there hairs falling of, it was
-obleged to discourse, and is now turned into a conversasiony.
-
-In regard to shuting, I have never dun anny thing Since percussion
-Captiousness cum up, wich I am Told they are sharper then Flints. The
-last hare I kild was 2 long ears ago, and the Last fezzant, But there’s
-a long tail belonging to that, wich you shall have when you cum over,
-as I hop you wil, with your Horse’s; I have good entertainment for
-boath, as the french Say, at my table D’ oats. The lads go out after
-Burds now and then, but I seldum cum at the rites of there shuting--you
-kno
-
-    Wat is Hits is Histery,
-    But what is mist is mistery.
-
-[Illustration: WHICH WAY DID THE FOX GO?]
-
-Talking of shuting, hav you seen Ubbard’s new guns like wauking
-sticks--there a cappital defence agin cappital offences; as you may
-ether stick a feller or Shute him; or boath together. I wish farmer
-Gale had carrid one last friday, for he was Rob’d cuming from markit by
-a foot paddy Irish man, that knockd him down to make him Stand. Luckly
-he had nothing on him when Stopd but sum notes of the Barnsby bank that
-had bin stopd the weak afore.
-
-In the fishing line I am quite Dead bait, tho I have had manny a Good
-run in my tim, Partickler when the keeper spide me out were I hadent
-got Leaf. The last tim I went I could hardly un do my rod for roomatiz
-in my joints, and I got the Lumbago verry bad wen I cum back, and its
-atax I doant like. Beside wich I found very Little big fish on a count
-of the pochers, who Kil em al in colde blood. I used sumtims to float
-and sumtims to fli, but our waters is so over fished theres no fish to
-be had, and as I am very musicle, I dont like trolling without a catch,
-the last jack I caut was with my boot, and was only a foot long.
-
-[Illustration: FLY FISHING.]
-
-As for raceing, I never cared much a bout it, and in regard of betting,
-I am Better with out it, tho I al ways take the feeld wen I am Able,
-and suport the Farmer’s Plate with al my Mite.
-
-Our Wist club is going of, Some of the members go on so; two of em are
-perpetuly quareling like anny thing but double dummies, for one plays
-like Hoyle and the other like Vinegar. The young men hav interduced
-Shorts, but I doant think theyle Last long. They are al so verry Sharp
-at the Pints, and as for drinking, I never se sich Liquorish Chaps in
-my life. They are al ways laying ods, even at Super, when theyle Bet
-about the age of a Roosted foul, with they cal Chicken hazzard, or
-about the Wait of a Curran py, with they cal the Currancy question.
-They al so smoke a grate manny seagars, but they cant Put the old men’s
-pips out, wich it Wood be a Burning shame if they did. I am sorry to
-say politicks has Crept in; Sum is al for reform, and some is al for
-none at al, and the only thing they agre in is, that the Land lord
-shant bring in no Bil. There is be sides grate dis-cushins as to the
-new game laws, sum entertaning douts wen sum peple go out a shuting,
-wether even acts of Parliament will inable them to shute anny game.
-
-The crickit Club is going on uncomon wel. They are 36 members with out
-rekoning the byes; our best man at Wickit is Captin Batty--he often
-gets four notches running; and our best boler is Use Ball, tho we
-sumtims get Dr. Pilby to bolus. As for the crickit Bal, it is quit wore
-out, wich the gals say they are verry Sory for it, as they took a grate
-intrest in our matches.
-
-My lads are boath of em marred, wich mayhap you have Herd,--and if
-the gals are not, I Believe its no falt of theres. They hope youle
-cum to the Wake, wich is next Sunday weak, for they Say there will be
-High fun, al tho I think it is Rather Low. The only use of waking that
-I can See, is to pervent folkes Sleeping, and as for there jumping
-and throwing up their Heals, I see no Pleasur in it. If they had the
-Roomatiz as Bad as I have, they woudent be for Dancing there fandangoes
-at that rat, and Kicking for partners.
-
-Our county Member, Sir William Wiseacre, is going to bring in a bil
-“for the supression of the Barbarus past-time of bul beating, and for
-the better incorigement of the nobul art of Cockin,” by wich al buls,
-wether inglish or irish, are to be Made game of no longer, and al such
-as are found at anny ring or stake are libel to be find. They cal it
-here the Cock and Bul Act, wich I think is a very good name. It has
-causd grate diversion in manny peple’s opinions, but most of us Think
-the cocks is quite as Bad as the buls. The same Barrownet as tried to
-interduce Forkenry, but the first atempts as been verry Hawkward. The
-forkens flu at a herin, who tried to be above there atax, for the more
-they pecked him the more they maid him sore, but a boy flying a Kite
-skared em al away togither.
-
-[Illustration: WHERE’S YOUR HAWKER’S LICENSE?]
-
-Last week was our grand archery Meetin, and the first prize was won by
-Little Master Tomkins, of grove House. I supose his fondnes for lolli
-pops made him ame best at bulls Eyes. The Miss Courtenays were there
-as usul, and in comparison of arch Angles look ralyarcher.--The wags
-propposed miss Emilyshood have the second prize for shuting in too a
-cows Eye that came to nere the target; she says she wos so nervus, it
-put her arrow into a quiver. In the middle of the meeting we herd a Bad
-playd Key buggle, and out of the shrubbery, were they had bin hiding,
-Jumpd Revd. Mister Crumpe and assistants; he is Rector of Bow and Curat
-of Harrow, and was disgised in every thing green, as Robin Hood and
-his mery Men; after geting Little John to string his bow for him, I am
-sorry to say, Robin Hood shot Worst of every Body, for he did not even
-hit the target, and we should have never Seen wear his arrow went, but
-by hereing it smash in to the conservatorry. When we came to look for
-the prize, a silver Arrow, every Body had lost it, for it had dropt
-out of the case, and would never have been found, but for Revd. mister
-Crumpe sittin downe on the lawne, and wich made Him jump up agen, as
-miss Courtenay said out of Byron, like “a warrior bounding from its
-Barb.” The Toxophilus Club is very flurrishing, but talk of expeling
-sum members for persisting in wereing peagreen insted of lincon, and
-puttin on there spanish Hats and fethers the rong side before.
-
-Thank you for the Hoisters, wich was verry good. Mary has took the
-shels to make her a groto, of wich I think is very shameful, as I
-wanted them to Friten the Burds. Old Mark Lane, the man as Cheated you
-out of them oats, has bean sent to jail for Stealing barly. I am sadly
-Afearde old Marks corn will give Him 14 ears of Bottany.
-
-Pleas to Remember me to al inquiring friends, if they should think it
-woth wile to Ask after me.
-
-    From your Humbel servant,
-    ANDREW AXELTREE.
-
-P.S. I forgot to menshun the subskripshon Stag hounds kep by the same
-members as the wist club, and its there wim to have fifty too dogs
-to the pack. If old Bil, the huntsman, was drest like Pam, theyd be
-complet. They have had sum cappital runs dooring the season. As you
-write for the sporting Maggazins, you may like to notice an apereance
-rather noo in the felde, I mean the Grate Creol Curnel Brown, who is
-very pompus, and hunts with Pompey, his black servant, after him. I
-have got a Deal more to Say, but carnt for want of Room. Mary says I
-should Cros it, wich I wood, but I doant Wish to put you to the expense
-of a Dubble leter.
-
-
-
-
-THE SUB-MARINE.
-
-
-    IT was a brave and jolly wight,
-      His cheek was baked and brown,
-    For he had been in many climes
-      With captains of renown,
-    And fought with those who fought so well
-      At Nile and Camperdown.
-
-    His coat it was a soldier coat,
-      Of red with yellow faced,
-    But (merman-like) he look’d marine
-      All downward from the waist;
-    His trousers were so wide and blue,
-      And quite in sailor taste!
-
-    He put the rummer to his lips,
-      And drank a jolly draught;
-    He raised the rummer many times--
-      And ever as he quaff’d,
-    The more he drank the more the ship
-      Seem’d pitching fore and aft!
-
-    The ship seemed pitching fore and aft,
-      As in a heavy squall;
-    It gave a lurch and down he went,
-      Head-foremost in his fall!
-    Three times he did not rise, alas!
-      He never rose at all!
-
-    But down he went right down at once,
-      Like any stone he dived,
-    He could not see, or hear, or feel--
-      Of senses all deprived!
-    At last he gave a look around
-      To see where he arrived!
-
-    And all that he could see was green,
-      Sea-green on every hand!
-    And then he tried to sound beneath,
-      And all he felt was sand!
-    There he was fain to lie, for he
-      Could neither sit nor stand!
-
-    And lo! above his head there bent
-      A strange and staring lass;
-    One hand was in her yellow hair,
-      The other held a glass;
-    A mermaid she must surely be
-     If ever mermaid was!
-
-    Her fish-like mouth was opened wide,
-      Her eyes were blue and pale,
-    Her dress was of the ocean green,
-      When ruffled by a gale;
-    Thought he “beneath that petticoat
-      She hides a salmon-tail!”
-
-    She look’d as siren ought to look,
-      A sharp and bitter shrew,
-    To sing deceiving lullabies
-      For mariners to rue,--
-    But when he saw her lips apart,
-      It chill’d him through and through!
-
-    With either hand he stopp’d his ears
-      Against her evil cry;
-    Alas, alas, for all his care,
-      His doom it seem’d to die,
-    Her voice went ringing through his head
-      It was so sharp and high!
-
-    He thrust his fingers farther in
-      At each unwilling ear,
-    But still in very spite of all
-      The words were plain and clear;
-    “I can’t stand here the whole day long,
-    To hold your glass of beer!”
-
-    With open’d mouth and open’d eyes,
-      Up rose the sub-marine,
-    And gave a stare to find the sands
-      And deeps where he had been:
-    There was no siren with her glass!
-      No waters ocean-green!
-
-    The wet deception from his eyes
-      Kept fading more and more,
-    He only saw the bar-maid stand
-      With pouting lip before--
-    The small green parlour of the Ship,
-      And little sanded floor.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: BOARDING-SCHOOL.]
-
-
-
-
-THE ISLAND.
-
-    “Oh had I some sweet little Isle of my own!”--MOORE.
-
-
-IF the author of the Irish Melodies had ever had a little Isle so much
-his own as I have possessed, he might not have found it so sweet as the
-song anticipates. It has been my fortune, like Robinson Crusoe, and
-Alexander Selkirk, to be thrown on such a desolate spot, and I felt so
-lonely, though I had a follower, that I wish Moore had been there. I
-had the honour of being in that tremendous action off Finisterre, which
-proved an end of the earth to many a brave fellow. I was ordered with
-a boarding party to forcibly enter the Santissima Trinidada, but in
-the act of climbing into the quarter-gallery, which, however, gave no
-quarter, was rebutted by the butt-end of a marine’s gun, who remained
-the quarter-master of the place. I fell senseless into the sea, and
-should no doubt have perished in the waters of oblivion, but for the
-kindness of John Monday, who picked me up to go adrift with him in one
-of the ship’s boats. All our oars were carried away, that is to say we
-did not carry away any oars, and while shot was raining, our feeble
-hailing was unheeded. In short, as Shakspeare says, we were drifting
-off by “the current of a heady fight.” As may be supposed, our boat was
-anything but the jolly-boat, for we had no provisions to spare in the
-middle of an immense waste. We were, in fact, adrift in the cutter with
-nothing to cut. We had not even junk for junketing, and nothing but
-salt-water, even if the wind should blow fresh. Famine indeed seemed to
-stare each of us in the ace; that is we stared at one another; but if
-men turn cannibals, a great allowance must be made for a short ditto.
-We were truly in a very disagreeable pickle, with oceans of brine and
-no beef, and, like Shylock, I fancy we would have exchanged a pound of
-gold for a pound of flesh. The more we drifted Nor, the more sharply we
-inclined to gnaw,--but when we drifted Sow, we found nothing like pork.
-No bread rose in the east, and in the opposite point we were equally
-disappointed. We could not compass a meal anyhow, but got mealy-mouth’d
-notwithstanding. We could see the Sea mews to the eastward, flying over
-what Byron calls the Gardens of Gull. We saw plenty of Grampus, but
-they were useless to all intents and porpusses, and we had no bait for
-catching a bottle-nose.
-
-[Illustration: THE POUND OF FLESH.]
-
-[Illustration: CATCHING A BOTTLE-NOSE.]
-
-Time hung heavily on our hands, for our fast days seemed to pass very
-slowly, and our strength was rapidly sinking from being so much afloat.
-Still we nourished Hope, though we had nothing to give her. But at last
-we lost all prospect of land, if one may so say when no land was in
-sight. The weather got thicker as we were getting thinner; and though
-we kept a sharp watch, it was a very bad look-out. We could see nothing
-before us but nothing to eat and drink. At last the fog cleared off,
-and we saw something like land right a-head, but alas, the wind was
-in our teeth as well as in our stomachs. We could do nothing but keep
-her near, and as we could not keep ourselves full, we luckily suited
-the course of the boat; so that after a tedious beating about--for
-the wind not only gives blows, but takes a great deal of beating--we
-came incontinently to an island. Here we landed, and our first impulse
-on coming to dry land was to drink. There was a little brook at hand
-to which we applied ourselves till it seemed actually to murmur at
-our inordinate thirst. Our next care was to look for some food, for
-though our hearts were full at our escape, the neighbouring region was
-dreadfully empty. We succeeded in getting some natives out of their
-bed, and ate them, poor things, as fast as they got up, but with some
-difficulty in getting them open; a common oyster-knife would have been
-worth the price of a sceptre. Our next concern was to look out for a
-lodging, and at last we discovered an empty cave, reminding me of an
-old inscription at Portsmouth, “The whole of this place to let.” We
-took the precaution of rolling some great stones to the entrance, for
-fear of last lodgers,--that some bear might come home from business,
-or a tiger to tea. Here, under the rock, we slept without rocking,
-and when, through the night’s failing, the day broke, we saw with the
-first instalment of light that we were upon a small desert isle, now
-for the first time an Isle of Man. Accordingly, the birds in this wild
-solitude were so little wild, that a number of boobies and noddies
-allowed themselves to be taken by hand, though the asses were not such
-asses as to be caught. There was an abundance of rabbits, which we
-chased unremittingly, as Hunt runs Warren; and when coats and trousers
-fell short, we clothed our skins with theirs, till, as Monday said,
-we each represented a burrow. In this work Monday was the tailor, for
-like the maker of shadowy rabbits and cocks upon the wall, he could
-turn his hand to anything. He became a potter, a carpenter, a butcher,
-and a baker--that is to say, a master butcher and a master baker, for
-I became merely his journeyman. Reduced to a state of nature, Monday’s
-favourite phrase for our condition, I found my being an officer
-fulfilled no office; to confess the truth, I made a very poor sort of
-savage, whereas Monday, I am persuaded, would have been made a chief by
-any tribe whatever. Our situations in life were completely reversed;
-he became the leader and I the follower, or rather, to do justice to
-his attachment and ability, he became like a strong big brother to a
-helpless little one.
-
-[Illustration: IN EMBARRASSED CIRCUMSTANCES.]
-
-We remained in a state of nature five years, when at last a whaler of
-Hull--though the hull was not visible--showed her masts on the horizon,
-an event which was telegraphed by Monday, who began saying his prayers
-and dancing the College Hornpipe at the same time with equal fervour.
-We contrived by lighting a fire, literally a _feu-de-joie_, to make a
-sign of distress, and a boat came to our signal deliverance. We had a
-prosperous passage home, where the reader may anticipate the happiness
-that awaited us; but not the trouble that was in store for me and
-Monday. Our parting was out of the question; we would both rather have
-parted from our sheet anchor. We attempted to return to our relative
-rank, but we had lived so long in a kind of liberty and equality,
-that we could never resume our grades. The state of nature remained
-uppermost with us both, and Monday still watched over and tended me
-like Dominie Sampson with the boy Harry Bertram; go where I would, he
-followed with the dogged pertinacity of Tom Pipes; and do what I might,
-he interfered with the resolute vigour of John Dory in Wild Oats. This
-disposition involved us daily, nay, hourly, in the most embarrassing
-circumstances; and how the connexion might have terminated I know not,
-if it had not been speedily dissolved in a very unexpected manner. One
-morning poor Monday was found on his bed in a sort of convulsion, which
-barely enabled him to grasp my hand, and to falter out, “Good-bye, I am
-go--going--back--to a state of nature.”
-
-[Illustration: A GOOD ACTION MEETS ITS OWN REWARD.]
-
-
-
-
-DOG-GREL VERSES, BY A POOR BLIND.
-
-    “Hark! hark! the dogs do bark,
-    The beggars are coming....”--OLD BALLAD.
-
-
-    OH what shall I do for a dog?
-      Of sight I have not got a particle,
-        Globe, Standard, or Sun,
-        Times, Chronicle--none
-    Can give _me_ a good leading article.
-
-    A Mastiff once led me about,
-      But people appeared so to fear him--
-        I might have got pence
-        Without his defence,
-    But Charity would not come near him.
-
-    A Blood-hound was not much amiss,
-      But instinct at last got the upper;
-        And tracking Bill Soames,
-        And thieves to their homes,
-    I never could get home to supper.
-
-    A Fox-hound once served me as guide,
-      A good one at hill and at valley;
-        But day after day
-        He led me astray,
-    To follow a milk-woman’s tally.
-
-    A turnspit once did me good turns
-      At going and crossing, and stopping;
-        Till one day his breed
-        Went off at full speed,
-    To spit at a great fire in Wapping.
-
-    A Pointer once pointed my way,
-      But did not turn out quite so pleasant,
-        Each hour I’d a stop
-        At a Poulterer’s shop
-    To point at a very high pheasant.
-
-[Illustration: THE BATH GUIDE.]
-
-    A Pug did not suit me at all,
-      The feature unluckily rose up;
-        And folks took offence
-        When offering pence,
-    Because of his turning his nose up.
-
-    A Butcher once gave me a dog,
-      That turn’d out the worst one of any;
-        A Bull dog’s own pup,
-        I got a toss up,
-    Before he had brought me a penny.
-
-    My next was a Westminster Dog,
-      From Aistrop the regular cadger;
-        But sightless, I saw
-        He never would draw
-    A blind man so well as a badger.
-
-    A greyhound I got by a swop,
-      But, Lord! we soon came to divorces:
-        He treated my strip
-        Of cord like a slip,
-    And left me to go my own courses.
-
-    A poodle once tow’d me along,
-      But always we came to one harbour
-        To keep his curls smart,
-        And shave his hind part,
-    He constantly call’d on a barber.
-
-    My next was a Newfoundland brute,
-      As big as a calf fit for slaughter;
-        But my old cataract
-        So truly he back’d
-    I always fell into the water.
-
-    I once had a sheep-dog for guide,
-      His worth did not value a button;
-        I found it no go,
-        A Smithfield Ducrow,
-    To stand on four saddles of mutton.
-
-    My next was an Esquimaux dog,
-      A dog that my bones ache to talk on,
-        For picking his ways
-        On cold frosty days
-    He pick’d out the slides for a walk on.
-
-    Bijou was a lady-like dog,
-      But vex’d me at night not a little,
-        When tea-time was come
-        She would not go home,
-    Her tail had once trail’d a tin kettle.
-
-    I once had a sort of a Shock,
-      And kiss’d a street post like a brother,
-        And lost every tooth
-        In learning this truth--
-    One blind cannot well lead another.
-
-    A terrier was far from a trump,
-      He had one defect, and a thorough,
-        I never could stir,
-        ’Od rabbit the cur!
-    Without going into the Borough.
-
-    My next was Dalmatian, the dog!
-      And led me in danger, oh crikey!
-        By chasing horse heels,
-        Between carriage wheels,
-    Till I came upon boards that were spiky.
-
-    The next that I had was from Cross,
-      And once was a favourite spaniel
-        With Nero, now dead,
-        And so I was led
-    Right up to his den like a Daniel.
-
-    A mongrel I tried, and he did,
-      As far as the profit and lossing,
-        Except that the kind
-        Endangers the blind,
-    The breed is so fond of a crossing.
-
-    A setter was quite to my taste,
-      In alleys or streets broad or narrow
-        Till one day I met
-        A very dead set,
-    At a very dead horse in a barrow.
-
-[Illustration: “DOG-BERRY.”]
-
-    I once had a dog that went mad,
-      And sorry I was that I got him;
-        It came to a run,
-        And a man with a gun
-    Pepper’d _me_ when he ought to have shot him.
-
-    My profits have gone to the dogs,
-      My trade has been such a deceiver,
-        I fear that my aim
-        Is a mere losing game,
-    Unless I can find a Retriever.
-
-
-
-
-THE KANGAROOS.
-
-A FABLE.
-
-
-    A PAIR of married kangaroos
-      (The case is oft a human one too)
-    Were greatly puzzled once to choose
-      A trade to put their eldest son to:
-    A little brisk and busy chap,
-      As all the little K.’s just then are--
-    About some two months off the lap,--
-      They’re not so long in arms as men are.
-
-    A twist in each parental muzzle
-    Betray’d the hardship of the puzzle--
-      So much the flavour of life’s cup
-    Is framed by early wrong or right,
-    And Kangaroos we know are quite
-      Dependent on their “rearing up.”
-    The question, with its ins and outs,
-    Was intricate and full of doubts;
-      And yet they had no squeamish carings
-    For trades unfit or fit for gentry,
-    Such notion never had an entry,
-      For they had no armorial bearings.
-    Howbeit they’re not the last on earth
-    That might indulge in pride of birth;
-      Whoe’er has seen their infant young
-    Bob in and out their mother’s pokes,
-      Would own, with very ready tongue,
-    They are not born like common folks.
-    Well, thus the serious subject stood,
-      It kept the old pair watchful nightly,
-    Debating for young hopeful’s good,
-    That he might earn his livelihood,
-      And go through life (like them) uprightly.
-    Arms would not do at all; no, marry,
-    In that line all his race miscarry;
-      And agriculture was not proper,
-    Unless they meant the lad to tarry
-      For ever as a mere clod-hopper.
-    He was not well cut out for preaching,
-      At least in any striking style;
-      And as for being mercantile--
-    He was not form’d for over-reaching.
-    The law--why there still fate ill-starr’d him,
-    And plainly from the bar debarr’d him:
-    A doctor--who would ever fee him?
-      In music he could scarce engage,
-      And as for going on the stage
-    In tragic socks I think I see him!
-
-    He would not make a rigging-mounter;
-      A haberdasher had some merit,
-    But there the counter still ran counter,
-            For just suppose
-            A lady chose
-    To ask him for a yard of ferret!
-
-    A gardener digging up his beds,
-    The puzzled parents shook their heads.
-
-    “A tailor would not do because--”
-    They paused and glanced upon his paws.
-
-    Some parish post, though fate should place it
-    Before him, how could he embrace it?
-
-    In short each anxious Kangaroo
-    Discuss’d the matter through and through;
-    By day they seem’d to get no nearer,
-          ’Twas posing quite--
-          And in the night
-    Of course they saw their way no clearer!
-    At last thus musing on their knees--
-    Or hinder elbows if you please--
-    It came--no thought was ever brighter!
-    In weighing every why and whether,
-    They jump’d upon it both together--
-    “Let’s make the imp a _short-hand writer_!”
-
-
-MORAL.
-
-    I wish all human parents so
-      Would argue what their sons are fit for;
-    Some would-be critics that I know
-      Would be in trades they have more wit for.
-
-
-
-
-LITERARY REMINISCENCES.
-
-No. II.
-
-
-TO do justice to the climate of “stout and original Scotland,” it
-promised to act kindly by the constitution committed to its care. The
-air evidently agreed with the natives; and auld Robin Grays and John
-Andersons were plenty as blackberries, and Auld Lang Syne himself
-seemed to walk, bonneted, amongst these patriarchal figures in the
-likeness of an old man covered with a mantle. The effect on myself
-was rather curious--for I seemed to have come amongst a generation
-that scarcely belonged to my era; mature spinsters, waning bachelors,
-very motherly matrons, and experienced fathers, that I should have
-set down as uncles and aunts, called themselves my cousins; reverend
-personages, apparently grandfathers and grandmothers, were simply
-great uncles and aunts: and finally I enjoyed an interview with a
-relative oftener heard of traditionally, than encountered in the
-body--a great-great grandmother--still a tall woman and a tolerable
-pedestrian, going indeed down the hill, but with the wheel well
-locked. It was like coming amongst the Struldbrugs; and truly, for any
-knowledge to the contrary, many of these Old Mortalities are still
-living, enjoying their sneeshing, their toddy, their cracks, and
-particular reminiscences. The very phrase of being “Scotch’d, but not
-killed,” seems to refer to this Caledonian tenacity of life, of which
-the well-known Walking Stewart was an example: he was an annuitant in
-the County-office, and as the actuaries would say, died very hard. It
-must be difficult for the teatotallers to reconcile this longevity with
-the imputed enormous consumption of ardent spirits beyond the Tweed.
-Scotia, according to the evidence of Mr. Buckingham’s committee, is an
-especially drouthie bodie, who drinks whiskey at christenings, and at
-buryings, and on all possible occasions besides. Her sons drink not by
-the hour or by the day, but by the week,--witness Souter Johnny:--
-
-    “Tam lo’ed him like a vera brither,
-    They had been fou for weeks thegither.”
-
-Swallowing no thin washy potation, but a strong overproof spirit,
-with a smack of smoke--and “where there is smoke there is fire,” yet
-without flashing off, according to temperance theories, by spontaneous
-combustion. On the contrary, the canny northerns are noted for
-soundness of constitution and clearness of head, with such a strong
-principle of vitality as to justify the poetical prediction of C***,
-that the world’s longest liver, or Last Man, will be a Scotchman.
-
-All these favourable signs I duly noted; and prophetically refrained
-from delivering the letter of introduction to Doctor C----, which was
-to place me under his medical care. As the sick man said, when he
-went into the gin-shop instead of the hospital, I “trusted to natur.”
-Whenever the weather permitted, therefore, which was generally when
-there were no new books to the fore, I haunted the banks and braes, or
-paid flying visits to the burns, with a rod intended to punish that
-rising generation amongst fishes called trout. But I whipped in vain.
-Trout there were in plenty, but like obstinate double teeth, with a bad
-operator, they would neither be pulled out nor come out of themselves.
-Still the sport, if so it might be called, had its own attractions, as,
-the catching excepted, the whole of the Waltonish enjoyments were at
-my command, the contemplative quiet, the sweet wholesome country air,
-and the picturesque scenery--not to forget the relishing the homely
-repast at the shealing or the mill; sometimes I went alone, but often
-we were a company, and then we had for our attendant a journeyman
-tobacco-spinner, an original, and literary withal, for he had a reel in
-his head, whence ever and anon he unwound a line of Allan Ramsay, or
-Beattie, or Burns. Methinks I still listen, trudging homewards in the
-gloaming, to the recitation of that appropriate stanza, beginning--
-
-    “At the close of the day when the hamlet was still,”
-
-delivered with a gusto perhaps only to be felt by a day-labouring
-mechanic, who had “nothing but his evenings to himself.” Methinks I
-still sympathise with the zest with which he dwelt on the pastoral
-images and dreams so rarely realised, when a chance holiday gave
-him the fresh-breathing fragrance of the living flower in lieu
-of the stale odour of the Indian weed; and philosophically I can
-now understand why poetry, with its lofty aspirations and sublimed
-feelings, seemed to sound so gratefully to the ear from the lips of
-a “squire of low degree.” There is something painful and humiliating
-to humanity in the abjectness of mind, that too often accompanies the
-sordid condition of the working classes; whereas it is soothing and
-consolatory to find the mind of the poor man rising superior to his
-estate, and compensating by intellectual enjoyment for the physical
-pains and privation that belong to his humble lot. Whatever raises
-him above the level of the ox in the garner, or the horse in the
-mill, ought to be acceptable to the pride, if not to the charity, of
-the fellow creature that calls him brother; for instance, music and
-dancing, but against which innocent unbendings some of our magistracy
-persist in setting their faces, as if resolved that a low neighbourhood
-should enjoy no dance but St. Vitus’s, and no fiddle but the Scotch.
-
-To these open-air pursuits, sailing was afterwards added, bringing
-me acquainted with the boatmen and fishermen of The Craig, a hardy
-race, rough and ready-witted, from whom perchance was first derived my
-partiality for all marine bipeds and sea-craft, from Flag Admirals down
-to Jack Junk, the proud first-rate to the humble boatie that “wins the
-bairns’ bread.” The Tay at Dundee is a broad noble river, with a racing
-tide, which, when it differs with a contrary wind, will get up “_jars_”
-(Anglicè waves) quite equal to those of a family manufacture. It was
-at least a good preparatory school for learning the rudiments of boat
-craft; whereof I acquired enough to be able at need to take the helm
-without either going too near the wind or too distant from the port.
-Not without some boyish pride I occasionally found myself intrusted
-with the guidance of the Coach-Boat--so called from its carrying the
-passengers by the Edinburgh Mail--particularly in a calm, when the
-utmost exertions of the crew, four old man-of-war’s-men, were required
-at the oars. It not unfrequently happened, however, that “the laddie”
-was unceremoniously ousted by the unanimous vote, and sometimes by the
-united strength, of the ladies, who invariably pitched upon the oldest
-old gentleman in the vessel to
-
-    “_Steer_ her up and haud her gaun.”
-
-The consequence being the landing with all the baggage, some half-mile
-above or below the town--and a too late conviction, that the _Elder_
-Brethren of our Trinity House were not the best Pilots.
-
-It was during one of these brief voyages, that I witnessed a
-serio-comic accident, at which the reader will smile or sigh according
-to his connexion with the Corporation of London. I forget on what
-unconscious pilgrimage it was bound, but amongst the other passengers
-one day, there was that stock-dove of a gourmand’s affection, a five
-lively turtle. Rich and rare as it was, it did not travel unprotected
-like Moore’s heroine, but was under the care of a vigilant guardian,
-who seemed as jealous of the eyes that looked amorously at his charge,
-as if the latter had been a ward in Chancery. So far--namely, as far
-as the middle of the Tay--so good; when the spirit of mischief, or
-curiosity, or humanity, suggested the convenience of a sea-bath, and
-the refreshment the creature might derive from a taste of its native
-element. Accordingly, Testudo was lifted over the side, and indulged
-with a dip and a wallop in the wave, which actually revived it so
-powerfully, that from a playful flapping with its fore-fins it soon
-began to struggle most vigorously, like a giant refreshed with brine.
-In fact, it paddled with a power which, added to its weight, left no
-alternative to its guardian but to go with it, or without it. The event
-soon came off. The man tumbled backward into the boat, and the turtle
-plunged forward into the deep. There was a splash--a momentary glimpse
-of the broad back-shell--the waters closed, and all was over--or
-at least under! In vain one of the boatmen aimed a lunge with his
-boat-hook, at the fatal spot in particular--in vain another made a blow
-with his oar at the Tay in general--whilst a third, in his confusion,
-heaved a coil of rope, as he would, could, should, might, or ought to
-have done to a drowning Christian. The Amphibious was beyond their
-reach, and no doubt, making westward and homeward with all its might,
-with an instinctive feeling that
-
-    “The world was all before it where to choose
-    Its place of rest, and Providence its guide.”
-
-Never shall I forget, whilst capable of reminiscences, the face of that
-mourning mate thus suddenly bereaved of his turtle! The unfortunate
-shepherd, Ding-dog, in Rabelais, could hardly have looked more utterly
-and unutterably dozed, crazed, mizmazed, and flabbergasted, when his
-whole flock and stock of golden-fleeced sheep suicidically sheepwashed
-themselves to death, by wilfully leaping over-board! He said little
-in words, but more eloquently clapped his hands to his waistcoat, as
-if the loss, as the nurses say, had literally “flown to his stomach.”
-And truly, after promising it both callipash and callipee, with the
-delicious green fat to boot, what cold comfort could well be colder
-than the miserable chilling reflection that there was
-
-    “Cauld kail in Aberdeen?”
-
-
-
-
-THE DOMESTIC DILEMMA; A TRUE STORY, FROM THE GERMAN OF JEAN PAUL NEMAND.
-
-
-CHAPTER I.
-
-“I AM perfectly at my wits’ ends!”
-
-As Madame Doppeldick said this, she thrust both her fat hands into
-the pockets of her scarlet cotton apron, at the same time giving her
-head a gentle shake, as if implying that it was a case in which heads
-and hands could be of no possible avail. She was standing in a little
-dormitory, exactly equidistant from two beds, between which her eyes
-and her thoughts had been alternating some ten minutes past. They were
-small beds,--pallets,--cots,--cribs, troughs upon four legs, such
-as the old painters represent the manger in their pictures of the
-Nativity. Our German beds are not intended to carry double, and in such
-an obscure out-of-the way village as Kleinewinkel, who would think of
-finding any thing better in the way of a couch than a sort of box just
-too little for a bed, and just too large for a coffin? It was between
-two such bedlings, then, that Madame Doppeldick was standing, when she
-broke out into the aforesaid exclamation--“I am perfectly at my wits’
-ends!”
-
-Now, the wits’ ends of Madame Doppeldick scarcely extended farther
-from her scull than the horns of a snail. They seldom protruded far
-beyond her nose, and that was a short one; and moreover they were apt
-to recede and draw in from the first obstacle they encountered, leaving
-their proprietor to feel her own way, as if she had no wits’ ends at
-all. Thus, having satisfied themselves that there were only two beds
-in the rooms, they left the poor lady in the lurch, and absolutely
-at a nonplus, as to how she was to provide for the accommodation of a
-third sleeper, who was expected to arrive the same evening. There was
-only one best bed-room in the house, and it happened to be the worst
-bed-room also; all for Gretchen, the maid-servant, went home nightly to
-sleep at her mother’s. To be sure a shake-down might be spread in the
-parlour; but to be sure the parlour was also a shop of all sorts; and
-to be sure the young officer would object to such accommodations; and
-to be very sure, Mr. Doppeldick would object equally to the shake-down,
-and giving up the two beds overhead to his wife and the young officer.
-
-“God forgive me,” said the perplexed Madame Doppeldick as she went
-slowly down the stairs;--“but I wish Captain Schenk had been killed at
-the battle of Leipzig, or had got a bed of glory anywhere else, before
-he came to be billeted on us!”
-
-[Illustration: “I’LL TAKE A BED WITH YOU.”]
-
-
-CHAPTER II.
-
-IN extenuation of so unchristian-like an aspiration as the one which
-escaped from the lips of Madame Doppeldick at the end of the last
-chapter, it must be remembered that she was a woman of great delicacy
-for her size. She was so corpulent, that she might safely have gone to
-court without a hoop, her arms were too big for legs; and as for her
-legs, it passed for a miracle of industry, even amongst the laborious
-hard-working inhabitants of Kleinewinkel, that she knitted her own
-stockings. It must be confessed, that she ate heartily, drank heartily,
-and slept heartily; and all she ate, drank, and slept, seemed to do her
-good, for she never ceased growing, at least horizontally, till she
-did ample justice to the name which became her own by marriage. Still,
-as the bulk of her body increased, the native shrinking, unobtrusive
-modesty of her mind remained the same; or rather it became even more
-tremulously sensitive. In spite of her huge dimensions, she seemed to
-entertain the Utopian desire of being seen by no eyes save those of
-her husband; of passing through life unnoticed and unknown; in short
-she was a globe-peony with the feelings of a violet. Judge then what
-a shock her blushing sensibilities received from the mere idea of the
-strange captain intruding on the shadiest haunts of domestic privacy!
-Although by birth, education, and disposition, as loyal as the
-sunflower to the sun, in the first rash transports of her trepidation
-and vexation she wished anything but well to her liege sovereign the
-King of Prussia--wondering bitterly why his majesty could not contrive
-to have his reviews and sham-fights in Berlin itself; or at least in
-Posen, where there were spare beds to be had, and lodgings to let for
-single men. Then again, if the Quarter-master had but condescended
-to give a quarter’s notice, why, Mr. Doppeldick might have run up
-an extra room, or they might have parted off a portion of their own
-chamber with lath and plaster--or they might have done a thousand
-things; for instance, they might have sold their house and left the
-country, instead of being thus taken unawares in their own sanctorum
-by a strange gentleman, as suddenly as if he had tumbled through the
-roof. “It was too bad--it was really too bad--and she wondered what Mr.
-Doppeldick would say to it when he came home.”
-
-[Illustration: “I WISH I WAS WELL THROUGH IT.”]
-
-
-CHAPTER III.
-
-MR. DOPPELDICK did come home--and he said nothing to it at all. He only
-pulled his tobacco-bag out of one coat-pocket, and his tobacco-pipe
-out of the other, and then he struck a light, and fell to smoking,
-as complacently as if there had been no Captain Schenk in the world.
-The truth was, he had none of that nervous nicety of feeling, which
-his partner possessed so eminently, and, accordingly, he took no more
-interest in her domestic dilemma, than the walnut-wood chair that he
-sat upon. Moreover, when he once had in his mouth his favourite pipe,
-with a portrait of Kant on the bowl of it, he sucked through its tube a
-sort of Transcendental Philosophy which elevated him above all the ills
-of human life, to say nothing of such little domestic inconveniences
-as the present. If the house had been as big as the hotel de Nassau,
-at Schlangenbad, with as many chambers and spare beds in it--or a
-barrack, with quarters for the captain and his company to boot--he
-could not have puffed on more contentedly. The very talk about beds
-and bedding appeared to lull him into a sort of sleep with his eyes
-open; and even when the voice and words of his helpmate grew a little
-sharp and querulous in detailing all her doubts, and difficulties, and
-disagreeables, they could not raise even a ripple in the calm placid
-expanse of his forehead. How should they? His equable German good
-humour might well be invulnerable to all outward attacks, which had
-so long withstood every internal one,--ay, in Temper’s very citadel,
-the stomach. For instance, the better part of his daily diet was of
-sours. He ate “sauer-kraut,” and “sauer-braten,” with sour sauce and
-“sauer-ampfer” by way of salad, and pickled plums by way of dessert,
-and “sauer-milch” with sourish brown bread--and then, to wash these
-down, he drank sourish “Essigberger” wine, and “sauer-wasser,” of
-which the village of Kleinewinkel had its own peculiar brunnen. Still,
-I say, by all these sours, and many others not mentioned besides, his
-temper was never soured--nor could they turn one drop of the milk of
-human kindness that flowed in his bosom. Instead, therefore, of his
-round features being ever rumpled and crumpled, and furrowed up by
-the plough-share of passion, you never saw any thing on his face but
-the same everlasting sub-smile of phlegmatic philanthropy. In spite
-of the stream of complaint that kept pouring into his ear, he forgave
-Captain Schenk from the bottom of his soul for being billeted on him;
-and entertained no more spleen towards the King of Prussia and the
-Quarter-master, than he did towards the gnat that bit him last year.
-At length, his pipe wanting replenishing, he dropped a few comfortable
-words to his wife, meanwhile he refilled the bowl, and brought the
-engine again into play:--
-
-[Illustration: “WE ALL SMOKE IN GERMANY.”]
-
-[Illustration: “THE LAST IN BED TO PUT OUT THE LIGHT.”]
-
-“As for undressing, Malchen--before the strange man--puff--why can’t we
-go to bed,--puff--before _he_ does,--puff--puff and so put an end to
-the matter--puff--puff--puff!”
-
-“As I live upon damsons and bullases!” (for it was the plum season,)
-exclaimed Madame Doppeldick, clapping her fat hands with delight,
-“I never thought of that! Gretchen, my lass, get the supper ready
-immediately, for your good master is mortal hungry, and so am I!--and
-then, my own Dietrich dear, we’ll bundle off to bed as fast as we can!”
-
-
-CHAPTER IV.
-
-[Illustration: TRAVELLERS SEEING THE “LIONS.”]
-
-THE best of plots may come to the worst of ends. It was no fault,
-however, of Gretchen’s; for being in a hurry of her own to meet Ludwig
-Liedeback, she clapped the supper upon the table in no time at all.
-The transcendental pipe, with the head of Kant upon it, instantly
-found itself deposited in a by corner; for Mr. Doppeldick, like his
-better half, was a person of substance, keeping a good running account
-with Messer and Gabel. Besides, amongst other delicacies, the board
-actually displayed those rarest of all inland rarities, oysters,--a bag
-of which the warm-hearted Adam Kloot had sent, by way of a token of
-remembrance, to his old friend Dietrich; forgetting utterly that it was
-full a hundred leagues from the nearest high water-mark of the sea to
-the village of Kleinewinkel. Of course they came like other travellers,
-with their mouths wide agape, to see the wonders of the place,--but,
-then, so much the easier they were to open; and as the worthy couple
-did not contemplate any such superfluous nicety as _shaving_ them
-before they swallowed them, there was a fair chance that the delicious
-morsels would all be devoured before the inauspicious arrival of
-Captain Schenk. Some such speculation seemed to glimmer in the eyes of
-both Mr. and Mrs. Doppeldick--when, lo! just as the sixth dead oyster
-had been body-snatched out of its shell, and was being flavoured up
-with lemon and vinegar, the door opened, and in walked a blue cap with
-a red band, a pair of mustachios, and a grey cloak without any arms in
-its sleeves. Had Madame Doppeldick held any thing but an oyster in her
-mouth at that moment it would infallibly have choked her, the flutter
-of her heart in her throat was so violent.
-
-“Holy Virgin!--Captain Schenk!”
-
-“At your service, Madame,” answered a voice through the mustachios.
-
-“You are welcome, Captain!” said the worthy master of the house, at
-the same time rising, and placing a chair for his guest at that side
-of the table which was farthest from the oysters. The officer, without
-any ceremony, threw himself into the seat, and then, resting his elbows
-upon the table, and his cheeks between his palms, he fixed his dark
-eyes on the blushing face of Madame Doppeldick in a long and steady
-stare. It is true that he was only mentally reviewing the review;
-or, possibly, calculating the chances he had made in favour of an
-application he had lately forwarded to Berlin, to be exchanged into
-the Royal Guards; but the circumstance sufficed to set every nerve of
-Madame Doppeldick a-vibrating, and in two minutes from his arrival, she
-had made up her mind that he was a very bold, forward, and presuming
-young man.
-
-[Illustration: “O HAM--WHAT A FALLING OFF WAS THERE.”]
-
-It is astonishing, when we have once conceived a prejudice, how
-rapidly it grows, and how plentifully it finds nutriment! Like the sea
-polypus, it extends its thousand feelers on every side, for anything
-they can lay hold of, and the smallest particle afloat in the ocean
-of conjecture cannot escape from the tenacity of their grasp. So it
-was with Madame Doppeldick. From mistrusting the captain’s eyes, she
-came to suspect his nose, his mustachios, his mouth, his chin, and
-even the slight furrow of a sabre cut that scarred his forehead just
-over the left eyebrow. She felt morally sure that he had received it
-in no battle-field, but in some scandalous duel. Luckily she had never
-seen Mozart’s celebrated opera, or she would inevitably have set down
-Captain Schenk as its libertine masquerading hero, Don Giovanni himself!
-
-[Illustration: “A PIPING BULLFINCH.”]
-
-“You will be sharp-set for supper, Captain,” said the hospitable
-host, pushing towards his guest a dish of lean home-made bacon; but
-the Captain took no more notice of the invitation than if he had
-been stunned stone-deaf by the artillery at the sham-fight in the
-morning. Possibly he did not like bacon, or, at any rate, such bacon
-as was set before him; for to put the naked Truth on her bare oath,
-the Kleinewinkel pigs always looked as if they got their living, like
-cockroaches, by creeping through cracks. However, he never changed
-his posture, but kept his dark intolerable eyes still fixed on his
-hostess’s full and flushed face. He might just as well have stared,--if
-he must stare--at the shelves-full of old family china (some of it
-elaborately mended and riveted) in the corner cupboard, the door of
-which she had left open on purpose; but he had, apparently, no such
-considerate respect for female modesty.
-
-“Saint Ursula and the Eleven Thousand be near us!” said the disquieted
-Madame Doppeldick to herself. “It is hard enough for people of our
-years and bulk to be obliged to lie double;--but to have a strange,
-wild, rakish, staring young fellow in the same chamber--I _do_ wish
-that Dietrich would make more haste with his supper, that we may get
-into bed first!”
-
-
-CHAPTER V.
-
-HONEST Dietrich was in no such hurry. A rational, moral, pious man,
-with a due grateful sense of the sapidity of certain gifts of the
-Creator, ought not to swallow them with the post-haste indifference
-of a sow swilling her wash; and as Dietrich Doppeldick did not taste
-oysters once in ten years, it was a sort of religious obligation,
-as well as a positive secular temptation, that the relish of each
-particular fish should be prolonged as far as possible on the palate by
-an orderly, decorous, and deliberate deglutition. Accordingly, instead
-of bolting the oysters as if he had been swallowing them for a wager,
-he sate soberly, with his eyes fixed on the two plumpest, as if only
-awaiting the “good-night” of his guest to do ample and Christian-like
-justice to the edible forget-me-nots of his good friend Adam Kloot. In
-vain his wife looked hard at him, and trod on his toes as long as she
-could reach them, besides being seized with a short hectic cough that
-was any thing but constitutional--
-
-“Lord, help me!” said Mrs. Doppeldick in her soul, too fluttered to
-attend to the correctness of her metaphors--“It’s as easy to catch the
-eye of a post!--He minds me no more than if I trod on the toes of a
-stock-fish! I might as well cough into the ears of a stone wall.”
-
-In fact, honest Dietrich had totally forgotten the domestic dilemma.
-
-[Illustration: “KISSING GOES BY FAVOUR.”]
-
-“He will never take his eyes off,” thought Madame Doppeldick, stealing
-a glance across the table; “I was never so stared at, never since
-I was a girl and wore pigtails! I expect every moment he will jump
-and embrace me.” Whereas nothing could be further from the Captain’s
-thought. The second battalion had joined that very morning, and
-accordingly he had kissed, or been kissed by, all its eight-and-twenty
-officers, tall or short, fat or lean, fair or swarthy,--which was quite
-kissing enough for a reasonable day’s ration. The truth is, he was
-staring at himself. He had just, mentally, put on a new uniform, and
-was looking with the back of his eyes at his own brilliant figure, as
-a Captain in the Royal Guards. It was, however, a stare, outwardly,
-at Madame Doppeldick, who took everything to herself, frogs, lace,
-bullion, buttons, cuffs, collars, epaulettes, and the Deuce knows what
-besides.
-
-“I would to Heaven!” she wished, “he had never thought of going into
-the army,--or at least that the Quarter-master had never taken it into
-his stupid head to quarter him on us. Young gay Captains are very well
-to flirt with, or to waltz with, but at my years and bulk waltzing is
-quite out of the question!”
-
-[Illustration: WALTZING TO A NEW AIR.]
-
-
-CHAPTER VI.
-
-AT last Captain Schenk changed his posture, and averted his familiar
-eyes from the face of Madame Doppeldick; but it was only to give her a
-fresh alarm with his free-and-easy mouth. First of all he clenched his
-fists--then he raised his arms at full stretch above his head, as if
-he wanted to be crucified, and then turning his face upwards towards
-the ceiling, with his eyes shut, and his jaws open--he yawned such a
-yawn, as panther never yawned after prowling all day without prey, in a
-ten-foot cage--
-
-“Auw-yauw-au-ya-augh-auwayawauwghf!”
-
-[Illustration: HOB AND NOB.]
-
-“By all the Saints,” thought the terrified Madame Doppeldick, “he will
-be for packing off to bed at once!”--and in the vain hope of inducing
-him to sup beforehand, she seized, yes, she actually seized the devoted
-dish of oysters, and made them relieve guard, with the home-made bacon,
-just under the Captain’s nose. It was now honest Dietrich’s turn to
-try to catch the eyes of posts, and tread on the toes of stock-fish;
-however, for this time the natives were safe.
-
-“By your leave, Madame,” said the abominable voice through the
-moustachios, “I will take nothing except a candle. What with the heavy
-rain at first, and then the horse artillery ploughing up our marching
-ground, I am really dog-tired with my day’s work. If you will do me the
-favour, therefore, to show me to my chamber----”
-
-[Illustration: “WHAT NEXT?” AS THE FROG SAID WHEN HIS TAIL FELL OFF.]
-
-“Not for the whole world!” exclaimed the horrified Madame
-Doppeldick--“not for the whole world, I mean, till you have
-hob-and-nobbed with us--at least with the good man”--and, like a
-warm-hearted hostess, jealous of the honour of her hospitality, she
-snatched up the spare-candle, and hurried off to the barrel. If she
-could but set them down to drinking, she calculated, let who _would_ be
-the second, she would herself be the first in bed, if she jumped into
-it with all her clothes on. It was a likely scheme enough,--but alas!
-it fell through, like the rest!--Before she had drawn half a flask of
-Essigberger, or Holzapfelheimer, for I forget which--she was alarmed
-by the double screech of two chairs pushed suddenly back on the
-uncarpeted floor. Then came a trampling of light and heavy feet--and
-although she dropped the bottle--and forgot to turn the spigot--and
-carried the candle without the candlestick--and left her left slipper
-behind her,--still, in spite of all the haste she could make, she
-only reached the stair-foot just in time to see two Prussian-blue
-coat-tails, turned up with red, whisking in at the bed-room door!
-
-
-CHAPTER VII.
-
-“OH the cruel, the killing ill-luck that pursues us!” exclaimed the
-forlorn Madame Doppeldick, as her husband returned, with his mouth
-watering, to the little parlour, where, by some sort of attraction,
-he was drawn into the Captain’s vacant chair, instead of his own. In
-a few seconds the plumpest of Adam Kloot’s tender souvenirs, of about
-the size and shape of a penny bun, was sliding over his tongue. Then
-another went--and another--and another. They were a little gone or so,
-and no wonder; for they had travelled up the Rhine and the Moselle, in
-a dry “schiff,” not a “dampschiff,” towed by real horse-powers, instead
-of steam-powers, against the stream. To tell the naked truth, there
-were only four words in the world that a respectably fresh Cod’s head
-could have said to them, namely--
-
-[Illustration: “NONE OF YOUR SAUCE.”]
-
-No matter: down they went glibly, glibly. The lemon-juice did something
-for them, and the vinegar still more, by making them seem sharp instead
-of flat. Honest Dietrich enjoyed them as mightily as Adam Kloot could
-have wished; and was in no humour, you may be sure, for spinning prolix
-answers or long-winded speeches.
-
-“They are good--very!--excellent! Malchen!--Just eat a couple.”
-
-But the mind of the forlorn Malchen was occupied with any thing but
-oysters; it was fixed upon things above, or at least overhead. “I do
-not think I can sit up all night,” she murmured, concluding with such
-a gape that the tears squeezed out plentifully between her fat little
-eyelids.
-
-“I’ve found only one bad one--and that was full of black
-mud--schloo--oo--oo--ooop!”--slirropped honest Dietrich. N. B. There
-is no established formula of minims and crotchets on the gamut to
-represent the swallowing of an oyster: so the aforesaid syllables of
-“schloo--oo--oo--ooop,” must stand in their stead.
-
-“As for sleeping in my clothes,” continued Madame Doppeldick, “the
-weather is so very warm,--and the little window won’t open--and with
-two in a bed--”
-
-“The English do it, Malchen,--schloo--oo--ooop!”
-
-“But the English beds have curtains,” said Madame Doppeldick, “thick
-stuff or canvas curtains, Dietrich,--all round, and over the top--just
-like a general’s tent.”
-
-“We can go--schloo--ooop--to bed in the dark, Malchen.”
-
-“No--no,” objected Madam Doppeldick, with a grave shake of her head.
-“We’ll have no blindman’s-buff work, Dietrich,--and maybe blundering
-into wrong beds.”
-
-“Schloo--oo--oo--oo--ooop.”
-
-“And if ever I saw a wild, rakish, immoral, irreligious-looking young
-man, Dietrich, the Captain is one!”
-
-“Schloo--oo--oo--oo--ooop.”
-
-“Did you observe, Dietrich, how shamefully he stared at me?”
-
-“Schloo--ooop.”
-
-“And the cut on his forehead, Dietrich, I’ll be bound he got it for no
-good!”
-
-“Schloo--oo--oo--oo--ooop.”
-
-“Confound Adam Kloot and his oysters to boot!” exclaimed the offended
-Madame Doppeldick, irritated beyond all patience at the bovine apathy
-of her connubial partner. “I wish, I do, that the nets had burst in
-catching them!”
-
-“Why, what can one do, Malchen?” asked honest Dietrich, looking up for
-the first time from the engrossing dish, whence the one-a-penny oysters
-had all vanished, leaving only the two-a-penny ones behind.
-
-“Saint Ursula only knows!” sighed Madame Doppeldick, her voice
-relapsing into its former tone of melancholy. “I only know that I will
-never undress in the room!”
-
-“Then you must undress out of it, Malchen. Schloo--oop.
-Schloo--oo--oo--oo--ooop.”
-
-“I believe that must be the way after all,” said Madame Doppeldick,
-on whose mind her husband’s sentence of transcendental philosophy had
-cast a new light. “To be sure there is a little landing-place at the
-stair-head, and _our_ bed is exactly opposite the door--and if one
-scuttled briskly across the room, and jumped in--But are you sure,
-Dietrich, that you explained every thing correctly to the Captain? Did
-you tell him that _his_ was the one next the window--with the patchwork
-coverlet?”
-
-“Not a word of it!” answered honest Dietrich, who like all other
-Prussians had served his two years as a soldier, and was therefore
-moderately interested in military manœuvres. “Not a word of it--we
-talked all about the review. But I did what was far better, my own
-Malchen, for I saw him get into the bed with the patchwork coverlet,
-with my own eyes, and then took away his candle--Schloo--oo--oop!”
-
-“It was done like my own dear, kind Dietrich,” exclaimed the delighted
-Madame Doppeldick, and in the sudden revulsion of her feelings, she
-actually pulled up his huge round bullet-head from the dish, and kissed
-him between the nose and chin.
-
-The Domestic Dilemma was disarmed of its horns, Madame Doppeldick saw
-her way before her, as clear and open as the Rhine three months after
-the ice has broken up. From that moment, as long as the dish contained
-two oysters, the air of “Schloo--oo--oo--oo--ooop” was sung, as
-“arranged for a duet.”
-
-
-CHAPTER VIII.
-
-“ALL is quiet, thank Heaven! the Captain is as fast as a church,”
-thought Madame Doppeldick, as she stood in nocturnal dishabille, on the
-little landing-place, at the stair-head. “Now then, my own Dietrich,”
-she whispered, “are you ready to run?” For like the best of wives, as
-she was, she did not much care to go anywhere without her husband.
-
-But the deliberate Dietrich was not prepared to escort her. He had
-chosen to undress as usual, with his transcendental pipe in his mouth;
-indeed it was always the last thing that he took off before getting
-into bed, so that till all his philosophy was burned to ashes, his mind
-would not consent to any active corporeal exertion, especially to any
-locomotion so rapid as a race. At last he stood balancing, made up for
-the start; his eyes staring, his teeth clenched, his fists doubled,
-and his arms swinging, as if he were about to be admitted a burgess of
-Andernach--that is to say, by leaping backwards over a winnowing fan,
-with a well poised pail of water in his arms, in order to show if he
-accomplished it neatly.
-
-“The night-light may be left burning where it is, Dietrich.”
-
-“Now then, Malchen!”
-
-“Now then Dietrich,--and run gently--on your toes!”
-
-No sooner said than done. The modest Malchen with the speed of a young
-wild elephant made a rush across the room, and, with something of a
-jump and something more of a scramble, plunged headlong into the bed.
-The phlegmatic Dietrich was a thought later, from having included
-the whole length of the landing-place in his run, to help him in his
-leap, so that just as his bulk came squash! upon the coverlet, his
-predecessor was tumbling her body, skow-wow, bow-wow, any-how, over the
-side of the bedstead.
-
-[Illustration: COUNTRY QUARTERS.]
-
-“Sancta Maria!” sobbed Madame Doppeldick, as she settled into hysterics
-upon the floor.
-
-“Potz-tausend!” said Mr. Doppeldick, as he crawled backwards out of the
-bed like a crab.
-
-“Ten thousand devils!” bellowed Captain Schenk--a suppressed
-exclamation that the first shock had driven from his mouth into his
-throat, from his throat into his lungs, and from thence into his
-stomach; but which the second shock had now driven out again in full
-force.
-
-[Illustration: THE BEARER OF THE GREAT SEAL.]
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-“Why, I thought, Mister Jean Paul Nemand (says the reader), that we
-left the Captain safe and sound, in his own bed, next the window, with
-the patch-work coverlet?”
-
-“And so we did, Mister Carl Wilhelm Jemand (says the author,) but it
-was so short, that in five minutes he caught the cramp. Wherefore, as
-there was a second spare bed in the room, and as honest Dietrich had
-said nothing of other lodgers, and as of all blessings we ought to
-choose the biggest, the Captain determined to give it a trial--and
-between you and me he liked the bed well enough, till he felt a sort of
-smashing pain all over his body, his eyes squeezing out of his face,
-his nose squeezing into it, and his precious front teeth, at a gulp,
-going uninvited down his gullet!”
-
-[Illustration: “WHY DID YOU SUP ON PORK?”]
-
-
-
-
-ODE FOR THE NINTH OF NOVEMBER.
-
-
-          O Lud! O Lud! O Lud!
-    I mean of course that venerable town,
-    Mention’d in stories of renown,
-        Built formerly of mud;--
-    O Lud, I say, why didst thou e’er
-        Invent the office of a Mayor,
-    An office that no useful purpose crowns,
-    But to set Aldermen against each other,
-    That should be Brother unto Brother,--
-    Sisters at least, by virtue of their gowns
-    But still if one must have a Mayor
-                  To fill the Civic chair,
-                  O Lud, I say,
-          Was there no better day
-    To fix on, than November Ninth so shivery
-    And dull for showing off the Livery’s livery?
-
-[Illustration: FINDING A MAY’R’S NEST.]
-
-                Dimming, alas!
-                The Brazier’s brass,
-    Soiling th’ Embroiderers and all the Saddlers,
-                Sopping the Furriers,
-                Draggling the Curriers,
-    And making Merchant Tailors dirty paddlers:
-    Drenching the Skinners’ Company to the skin,
-        Making the crusty Vintner chiller,
-        And turning the Distiller
-    To cold without instead of warm within;--
-        Spoiling the bran-new beavers
-        Of Wax-chandlers and Weavers,
-          Plastering the Plasterers and spotting Mercers,
-        Hearty November-cursers--
-        And showing Cordwainers and dapper Drapers
-        Sadly in want of brushes and of scrapers;
-        Making the Grocer’s company not fit
-          For Company a bit;
-        Dying the Dyers with a dingy flood,
-          Daubing incorporated Bakers,
-          And leading the Patten-makers,
-        Over their very pattens in the mud,--
-                O Lud! O Lud! O Lud!
-
-        “This is a sorry sight,”
-    To quote Macbeth--but oh, it grieves me quite,
-    To see your Wives and Daughters in their plumes--
-          White plumes not white--
-        Sitting at open windows catching rheums,
-          Not “Angels ever bright and fair,”
-          But angels ever brown and sallow,
-    With eyes--you cannot see above one pair,
-          For city clouds of black and yellow--
-    And artificial flowers, rose, leaf, and bud,
-                Such sable lilies
-                And grim daffodilies
-    Drooping, but not for drought, O Lud! O Lud!
-
-    I may as well, while I’m inclined,
-    Just go through all the faults I find:
-        Oh Lud! then, with a better air, say June,
-        Could’st thou not find a better tune
-        To sound with trumpets, and with drums,
-        Than “See the Conquering Hero comes,”
-          When he who comes ne’er dealt in blood!
-        Thy May’r is not a War Horse, Lud,
-        That ever charged on Turk or Tartar,
-    And yet upon a march you strike
-          That treats him like--
-          A little French if I may martyr--
-    Lewis Cart-Horse or Henry Carter!
-
-[Illustration: ARMS FOUND.]
-
-                O Lud! I say
-                Do change your day
-    To some time when your Show can really show;
-    When silk can seem like silk, and gold can glow.
-        Look at your Sweepers, how they shine in May
-        Have it when there’s a sun to gild the coach,
-        And sparkle in tiara--bracelet--brooch--
-    Diamond--or paste--of sister, mother, daughter;
-        When grandeur really may be grand--
-        But if thy Pageant’s thus obscured by land--
-    O Lud! it’s ten times worse upon the water!
-        Suppose, O Lud, to show its plan,
-        I call, like Blue Beard’s wife, to sister Anne.
-        Who’s gone to Beaufort Wharf with niece and aunt
-        To see what she can see--and what she can’t;
-        Chewing a saffron bun by way of cud,
-        To keep the fog out of a tender lung,
-        While perch’d in a verandah nicely hung
-          Over a margin of thy own black mud,
-                  O Lud!
-
-        Now Sister Anne, I call to thee,
-              Look out and see:
-    Of course about the bridge you view them rally
-              And sally,
-
-    With many a wherry, sculler, punt, and cutter;
-    The Fishmongers’ grand boat, but not for butter,
-          The Goldsmiths’ glorious galley,--
-    Of course you see the Lord Mayor’s coach aquatic,
-        With silken banners that the breezes fan,
-          In gold all glowing,
-          And men in scarlet rowing,
-        Like Doge of Venice to the Adriatic;
-        Of course you see all this, O Sister Anne?
-        “No, I see no such thing!
-    I only see the edge of Beaufort Wharf,
-    With two coal lighters fasten’d to a ring:
-          And, dim as ghosts,
-    Two little boys are jumping over posts;
-          And something farther off,
-    That’s rather like the shadow of a dog,
-          And all beyond is fog.
-    If there be any thing so fine and bright,
-    To see it I must see by second sight.
-    Call this a Show? It is not worth a pin!
-            I see no barges row,
-            No banners blow;
-    The show is merely a gallanty-show,
-    Without a lamp or any candle in.”
-
-          But sister Anne, my dear,
-          Although you cannot see, you still may hear?
-    Of course you hear, I’m very sure of that,
-            The “Water parted from the Sea” in C,
-            Or “Where the Bee sucks,” set in B,
-    Or Huntsman’s chorus from the Freyschutz frightful,
-    Or Handel’s Water Music in A flat.
-
-    Oh music from the water comes delightful!
-        It sounds as no where else it can:
-          You hear it first,
-          In some rich burst,
-          Then faintly sighing,
-          Tenderly dying
-        Away upon the breezes, Sister Anne.
-
-        “There is no breeze to die on;
-    And all their drums and trumpets, flutes and harps,
-    Could never cut their way with ev’n three sharps
-        Through such a fog as this, you may rely on.
-          I think, but am not sure, I hear a hum,
-
-        Like a very muffled double drum,
-        And then a something faintly shrill,
-        Like Bartlemy Fair’s old buz at Pentonville.
-        And now and then hear a pop,
-        As if from Pedley’s Soda Water shop.
-
-    I’m almost ill with the strong scent of mud,
-        And, not to mention sneezing,
-        My cough is, more than usual, teasing;
-    I really fear that I have chill’d my blood,
-    O Lud! O Lud! O Lud! O Lud! O Lud!”
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: THE HOUSE ADJOURNED.]
-
-
-
-
-SONNET.
-
-
-    THE sky is glowing in one ruddy sheet;--
-    A cry of fire! resounds from door to door;
-    And westward still the thronging people pour;--
-    The turncock hastens to F. P. 6 feet,
-    And quick unlocks the fountains of the street;
-    While rumbling engines, with increasing roar,
-    Thunder along to luckless Number Four,
-    Where Mr. Dough makes bread for folks to eat.
-    And now through blazing frames, and fiery beams,
-    The Globe, the Sun, the Phœnix, and what not,
-    With gushing pipes throw up abundant streams,
-    On burning bricks, and twists, on rolls--too hot--
-    And scorching loaves,--as if there were no shorter
-    And cheaper way of making toast-and-water!
-
-
-
-
-RONDEAU.
-
-[EXTRACTED FROM A WELL-KNOWN ANNUAL.]
-
-
-    O CURIOUS reader, didst thou ne’er
-    Behold a worshipful Lord May’r
-    Seated in his great civic chair
-                              So dear?
-    Then cast thy longing eyes this way,
-    It is the ninth November day,
-    And in his new-born state survey
-                              One here!
-    To rise from little into great
-    Is pleasant; but to sink in state
-    From high to lowly is a fate
-                              Severe.
-    Too soon his shine is overcast,
-    Chill’d by the next November blast;
-    His blushing honours only last
-                              One year!
-    He casts his fur and sheds his chains,
-    And moults till not a plume remains--
-    The next impending May’r distrains
-                            His gear.
-    He slips like water through a sieve--
-    Ah, could his little splendour live
-    Another twelvemonth--he would give
-                            One ear!
-
-[Illustration: FANCY PORTRAIT:--THE LORD MAYOR.]
-
-
-
-
-LONDON FASHIONS FOR NOVEMBER.
-
-REMARKS.
-
-
-NO season has offered such _variétés_ in costume as the early part
-of the present month. Fancy dresses of the most _outré_ description
-have appeared, even in the streets. Short waists and long, full
-sleeves and empty, broad skirts and narrow, whole skirts, half skirts,
-and none at all, have been indifferently worn. For the _Promenade_,
-rags and tatters of all kinds have been in much favour; very few
-buttons are worn; and the coats, waistcoats, and pantaloons, have
-been invariably padded and stuffed with hay or straw. We observed
-several _exquisites_ making morning calls in scare-crow great-coats;
-the skirts, lappels, collars, and cuffs, picturesquely, but not too
-formally, jagged _à la Vandyke_. The prevailing colours--all colours
-at once. Wigs have been very general--both _en buzz_ and _frizzé_;
-these have been commonly composed of deal shavings; but in some cases
-of tow, and sometimes horse-hair. For the evening party, a few squibs
-and crackers are stuck in the _perruque_ or hat, and the boots and
-shoes are polished up with a little pitch or tar; sometimes a Catherine
-wheel has been added _en coquarde_. Frills, collars, and ruffles, of
-_papier coupé_, have entirely superseded those of cambric or lace, and
-shirts of every description are quite discarded. Paint has been in much
-request, and ruddle seems to have been preferred to _rouge_; patches
-are also much worn, not on the countenance, but on the clothes; for
-these the favourite _matériel_ is tartan, plush of any colour, or
-corduroy. Several dandies appeared on the 5th with gloves, but they
-are not essential requisites to be in the _ton_: canes are discarded;
-even a riding-whip would be reckoned to evince _mauvais goût_, but
-a half-penny bunch of matches “_à la main_” is indispensable to a
-fashionable aspirant. The old practice of being carried abroad in
-chairs has been universally revived; and it must be confessed, that it
-exhibits the Figure to much advantage.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Amongst the _Nouveautés_, we observed the following _Caractère_, as
-making a felicitous _début_. The coast was _à-la-militaire_, of the
-colour formerly so much in vogue under the name of _fumée de Londres_,
-turned up with _flamme d’enfer_. It was _garni_ with very dead gold;
-and slashed _à l’Espagnole_, back and front. The pantaloons were
-equally _bizarre_; one leg being composed of Scotch tartan, and the
-other of blue striped bed-ticking, made very full, _en matelot_, in
-compliance with the prevailing taste for navals. The wig was made of
-green and white willow shavings, with a large link for a _queue_, tied
-on with a _nœud_ of red tape. The hat, brown, somewhat darker than
-the Devonshire beaver, but disinclining to black. It had no brim, and
-was without a crown. A tarnished badge of the Phœnix Fire Office, on
-the bust, gave a _distingué_ air to the whole Figure, which was going
-down Bond-street, and excited a sensation quite _à-l’envie_ by its
-appearance in the World of Fashion.
-
-N.B.--We are requested to state that the above described figure
-was entirely invented and manufactured by little Solomon Levy, of
-Hollywell-street, Strand, who has a variety always on show, about the
-metropolis.
-
-
-
-
-SYMPTOMS OF OSSIFICATION.
-
-    “An indifference to tears, and blood, and human suffering, that
-    could only belong to a _Boney-parte_.”--_Life of Napoleon._
-
-
-    TIME was, I always had a drop
-    For any tale or sigh of sorrow;
-    My handkerchief I used to sop
-    Till often I was forced to borrow;
-    I don’t know how it is, but now
-    My eyelids seldom want a drying;
-    The doctors, p’rhaps, could tell me how--
-    I fear my heart is ossifying!
-
-    O’er Goethe how I used to weep,
-    With turnip cheeks and nose of scarlet,
-    When Werter put himself to sleep
-    With pistols kiss’d and clean’d by Charlotte;
-    Self-murder is an awful sin,
-    No joke there is in bullets flying,
-    But now at such a tale I grin--
-    I fear my heart is ossifying!
-
-    The Drama once could shake and thrill
-    My nerves, and set my tears a stealing,
-    The Siddons then could turn at will
-    Each plug upon the main of feeling;
-    At Belvidera now I smile,
-    And laugh while Mrs. Haller’s crying;
-    ’Tis odd, so great a change of style--
-    I fear my heart is ossifying!
-
-    That heart was such--some years ago,
-    To see a beggar quite would shock it,
-    And in his hat I used to throw
-    The quarter’s savings of my pocket:
-    I never wish--as I did _then_!--
-    The means from my own purse supplying,
-    To turn them all to gentlemen--
-    I fear my heart is ossifying!
-
-    We’ve had some serious things of late,
-    Our sympathies to beg or borrow,
-    New melo-drames, of tragic fate,
-    And acts and songs, and tales of sorrow;
-    Miss Zouch’s case, our eyes to melt,
-    And sundry actors sad good-bye-ing.
-    But Lord!--so little have I felt,
-    I’m sure my heart is ossifying!
-
-
-
-
-THE POACHER.
-
-A SERIOUS BALLAD.
-
-    But a bold pheasantry, their country’s pride,
-    When once destroyed can never be supplied.
-
-    GOLDSMITH.
-
-
-    BILL BLOSSOM was a nice young man,
-      And drove the Bury coach;
-    But bad companions were his bane,
-      And egg’d him on to poach.
-
-    They taught him how to net the birds,
-      And how to noose the hare;
-    And with a wiry terrier,
-      He often set a snare.
-
-    Each “shiny night” the moon was bright,
-      To park, preserve, and wood
-    He went, and kept the game alive,
-      By killing all he could.
-
-[Illustration: A BUCK-ANEER!]
-
-    Land-owners, who had rabbits, swore
-      That he had this demerit--
-    Give him an inch of warren, he
-      Would take a yard of ferret.
-
-    At partridges he was not nice;
-      And many, large and small,
-    Without Hall’s powder, without lead,
-      Were sent to Leaden-Hall.
-
-    He did not fear to take a deer,
-      From forest, park, or lawn;
-    And without courting lord or duke,
-      Used frequently to _fawn_.
-
-    Folks who had hares discovered snares--
-      His course they could not stop:
-    No barber he, and yet he made
-      Their hares a perfect crop.
-
-    To pheasant he was such a foe,
-      He tried the keeper’s nerves;
-    They swore he never seem’d to have
-      _Jam_ satis of _preserves_.
-
-    The Shooter went to beat, and found
-      No sporting worth a pin,
-    Unless he tried the _covers_ made
-      Of silver, plate, or tin.
-
-    In Kent the game was little worth,
-      In Surrey not a button;
-    The Speaker said he often tried
-      The _Manors_ about _Sutton_.
-
-    No county from his tricks was safe:
-      In each he tried his lucks,
-    And when the keepers were in _Beds_,
-      He often was at _Bucks_.
-
-    And when he went to _Bucks_, alas!
-      They always came to _Herts_;
-    And even _Oxon_ used to wish
-      That he had his deserts.
-
-    But going to his usual _Hants_,
-      Old _Cheshire_ laid his plots:
-    He got entrapp’d by legal _Berks_,
-      And lost his life in _Notts_.
-
-[Illustration: LUNAR CAUSTIC.]
-
-
-
-
-SKETCHES ON THE ROAD.
-
-THE SUDDEN DEATH.
-
-
-THERE are several objections to one-horse vehicles. With two wheels,
-they are dangerous; with four, generally cruel inventions, tasking one
-animal with the labour of two. And, in either case, should your horse
-think proper to die on the road you have no survivor to drag your
-carriage through the rest of the stage; or to be sent off galloping
-with the coachman on his back for a coadjutor.
-
-That was precisely Miss Norman’s dilemma.
-
-If a horse could be supposed to harbour so deadly a spite against his
-proprietor, I should believe that the one in question chose to vent
-his animosity by giving up the ghost just at the spot where it would
-cause most annoyance and inconvenience. For fourteen months past he
-had drawn the Lady in daily airings to a point just short of the Binn
-Gate;--because that fifty yards further would have cost sixpence; a sum
-which Miss Norman could, or believed she could, but ill spare out of a
-limited income. At this very place, exactly opposite the tall elm which
-usually gave the signal for turning homeward, did Plantagenet prefer to
-drop down stone dead: as if determined that his mistress should have to
-walk every inch of it, to her own house.
-
-But Miss Norman never walked.
-
-[Illustration: “TAKE CARE OF THE PENCE, AND THE POUNDS WILL TAKE CARE
-OF THEMSELVES.”]
-
-Pedestrianism was, in her opinion, a very vulgar exercise, unavoidable
-with the poor, and to some people, as Postmen, Bankers’ clerks,
-Hawkers, and the like, a professional mode of progression, but a bodily
-exertion very derogatory to persons of birth and breeding. So far was
-this carried, that she was once heard to declare, speaking of certain
-rather humble obsequies, “she would rather live for ever than have a
-walking funeral!” On another occasion, when the great performance of
-Captain Barclay, in walking a thousand miles in a thousand hours, was
-submitted to her opinion, she said “it was a step she did not approve.”
-
-[Illustration: DESCENDED FROM THE CONQUEROR.]
-
-It might be surmised from such declarations, that she was incapable of
-personal locomotion, through some original infirmity, for instance,
-such as results from the rickets; whereas, so far from allowing any
-deficiency on the part of her nurse or parents, in putting her to
-her feet, Miss Norman professed to have the perfect command of all
-her limbs, and would have felt extremely offended at a hint that she
-could not dance. It was quite another weakness than any bodily one
-which restricted her promenades, and made her feet almost as useless
-to her as those of the female Chinese. Pride was in fault; and partly
-her surname, for suggesting to one of her ancestors that he was a
-descendant of William the First of England: a notion, which, after
-turning his own head, had slightly crazed those of his successors, who
-all believed, as part and parcel of their inheritance, on the strength
-of the “Norman” and some dubious old pedigree, that the Conqueror was
-their great Progenitor.
-
-The hereditary arrogance engendered by this imaginary distinction, had
-successively displayed itself by outbreaks of different character,
-according to the temperament of the individual who happened to be head
-of the family: with Miss Norman, the last of _her_ line, it took the
-form of a boast that every branch and twig of her illustrious tree had
-always ridden “in their own carriage.” I am not quite sure whether
-she did not push this pretension further back than the date of the
-invention of “little houses on wheels” would warrant; however, it held
-good, in local tradition, for several generations, although the family
-vehicle had gradually dwindled down from an ample coach to a chariot,
-a fly, and, finally, the one-inside sedan-chair upon wheels, which the
-sudden death of Plantagenet left planted fifty yards short of the Binn
-Gate. To glance at the whole set-out, nobody would ever have attributed
-high birth and inherent gentility to its owner. ’Twas never of a piece.
-For once that the body was new-painted, the arms were thrice refreshed
-and touched up, till the dingy vehicle, by the glaring comparison,
-looked more ancient than the quarterings. The crest was much oftener
-renewed than the hammer-cloth; and Humphrey, the coachman, evidently
-never got a new suit all at once. He had always old drab to bran-new
-bright sky-blue plush; or _vice versâ_. Sometimes a hat in its first
-gloss got the better of its old tarnished band; sometimes the fresh
-gold lace made the brown beaver look still more an antique. The same
-with the harness and the horse, which was sometimes a tall spanking
-brute, who seemed to have outgrown the concern; at other times, a
-short pony-like animal, who had been put into the shafts by mistake.
-In short, the several articles seemed to belong the more especially
-to Miss Norman because they belonged so little to each other. A few
-minutes made a great change in her possessions, instead of a living
-horse, hight Plantagenet, she was proprietor of certain hundred-weights
-of dogs’-meat.
-
-[Illustration: “WARRANTED QUIET TO RIDE OR DRIVE.”]
-
-It was just at this moment that I came up with my gig; and knowing
-something of the lady’s character, I pulled up in expectation of a
-scene. Leaving my own bay, who would stand as steady as a mute at
-death’s door, I proceeded to assist the coachman in extricating his
-horse; but the nag of royal line was stone dead: and I accompanied
-Humphrey to the carriage-door to make his report.
-
-A recent American author has described as an essential attribute
-of high birth and breeding in England, a certain sort of quakerly
-composure, in all possible sudden emergencies, such as an alarm of
-the house on fire, or a man falling into a fit by one’s side; in
-fact, the same kind of self-command which Pope praises in a lady
-who is “mistress of herself, though China fall.” In this particular
-Miss Norman’s conduct justified her pretensions. She was mistress of
-herself, though her horse fell. She did not start--exclaim--put her
-head out of the window, or even let down the front glass: she only
-adjusted herself more exactly in the middle of the seat, drew herself
-bolt upright, and fixed her eyes on the back of the coach-box. In this
-posture Humphrey found her.
-
-“If you please, Ma’am, Planty-ginit be dead.” The lady acquiesced with
-the smallest nod ever made.
-
-“I’ve took off the collar, and the bit out, and got un out o’
-harness entirely; but he be as unanimate as his own shoes;” and the
-informant looked earnestly at the lady to observe the effect of the
-communication. But she never moved a muscle; and honest Humphrey was
-just shutting the coach-door, to go and finish the laying out of the
-corpse, when he was recalled.
-
-“Humphrey!”
-
-“What’s your pleasure, Ma’am?”
-
-“Remember, another time----”
-
-“Yes, Ma’am.”
-
-“When a horse of mine is deceased----”
-
-“Yes, Ma’am.”
-
-“Touch your hat.”
-
-The abashed coachman instantly paid up the salute in arrear. Unblessed
-by birthright with self-possession, he had not even the advantage of
-experience in the first families, where he might have learned a little
-from good example: he was a raw uncouth country servant, with the great
-merit of being cheap, whom Miss Norman had undertaken to educate; but
-he was still so far from proficient, that in the importance of breaking
-the death to his mistress, he had omitted one of those minor tokens of
-respect which she always rigorously exacted.
-
-It was now my own turn to come forward, and as deferentially as if
-she had been indeed the last of the Conqueror’s Normandy pippins,
-I tendered a seat in my chaise, which she tacitly declined, with a
-gracious gesture of head and hand.
-
-“If you please, Ma’am,” said Humphrey, taking care to touch his hat,
-and shutting his head into the carriage so that I might not overhear
-him, “he’s a respectable kind of gentleman enough, and connected with
-some of the first houses.”
-
-“The gentleman’s name?”
-
-“To be sure, Ma’am, the gentleman can’t help his name,” answered
-Humphrey, fully aware of the peculiar prejudices of his mistress; “but
-it be Huggins.”
-
-[Illustration: “ONE MAY GO FARTHER AND FARE WORSE”--AS THE HORSE SAID]
-
-“Shut the door.”
-
-It appeared, on explanation with the coachman, that he had mistaken
-me for a person in the employ of the opulent firm of Naylor and
-Co., whose province it was to travel throughout Britain with samples
-of hardware in the box-seat of his gig. I did not take the trouble
-to undeceive him, but determining to see the end of the affair, I
-affected to hope that the lady would change her mind; and accordingly
-I renewed, from time to time, my offer of accommodation, which was
-always stiffly declined. After a tolerably long pause on all sides, my
-expectation was excited by the appearance of the W---- coach coming
-through the Binn Gate, the only public vehicle that used the road.
-At sight of the dead horse, the driver (the noted Jem Wade) pulled
-up--alighted--and standing at the carriage-door with his hat off, as if
-he knew his customer, made an offer of his services. But Miss Norman,
-more dignified than ever, waved him off with her hand. Jem became more
-pressing, and the lady more rigid. “She never rode,” she condescended
-to say, “in _public_ vehicles.” Jem entreated again; but “she was
-accustomed to be driven by her _own_ coachman.” It was in vain that in
-answer he praised the quietness of his team, the safety of his patent
-boxes, besides promising the utmost steadiness and sobriety on his
-own part. Miss Norman still looked perseveringly at the back of her
-coach-box; which, on an unlucky assurance that “he would take as much
-care of her as of his own mother,” she exchanged for a steady gaze at
-the side-window, opposite to the coachman, so long as he remained in
-the presence.
-
-“By your leave, Ma’am,” said Humphrey, putting his hand to his hat, and
-keeping it there, “Mr. Wade be a very civil-spoken careful whip, and
-his coach loads very respectable society. There’s Sir Vincent Ball on
-the box.”
-
-“If Sir Vincent Ball chooses to degrade himself, it is no rule for
-_me_,” retorted the lady, without turning her head; when, lo! Sir
-Vincent appeared himself, and politely endeavoured to persuade her out
-of her prejudices. It was useless. Miss Norman’s ancestors had one
-and all expressed a very decided opinion against stage-coaches, by
-never getting into one; and “she did not feel disposed to disgrace a
-line longer than common, by riding in any carriage but her own.” Sir
-Vincent bowed and retreated. So did Jem Wade, without bowing, fervently
-declaring “he would never do the civil thing to the old female sex
-again!”
-
-[Illustration: “JACK’S AS GOOD AS HIS MASTER.”]
-
-The stage rattled away at an indignant gallop; and we were left once
-more to our own resources. By way of passing the time, I thrice
-repeated my offers to the obdurate old maiden, and endured as many
-rebuffs. I was contemplating a fourth trial, when a signal was made
-from the carriage window, and Humphrey, hat in hand, opened the door.
-
-“Procure me a post-chaise.”
-
-“A po-shay!” echoed Humphrey, but, like an Irish echo, with some
-variation from his original--“Lord help ye, Ma’am, there bean’t such a
-thing to be had ten miles round--no, not for love nor money. Why, bless
-ye, it be election time, and there bean’t coach, cart, nor dog-barrow,
-but what be gone to it!”
-
-“No matter,” said the mistress, drawing herself up with an air of lofty
-resignation. “I revoke my order; for it is far, very far from the kind
-of riding that I prefer. And Humphrey----”
-
-“Yes, Ma’am.”
-
-“Another time--”
-
-“Yes, Ma’am.”
-
-“Remember once for all--”
-
-“Yes, Ma’am.”
-
-“I do not choose to be blest, or the Lord to help me.”
-
-Another pause in our proceedings, during which a company of ragged
-boys, who had been black-berrying, came up, and planted themselves,
-with every symptom of vulgar curiosity, around the carriage. Miss
-Norman had now no single glass through which she could look without
-encountering a group of low-life faces staring at her with all their
-might. Neither could she help hearing some such shocking ill-bred
-remarks as, “Vy don’t the frizzle-vigged old Guy get into the gemman’s
-drag?” Still the pride of the Normans sustained her. She seemed to draw
-a sort of supplementary neck out of her bosom, and sat more rigidly
-erect than ever, occasionally favouring the circle, like a mad bull at
-bay, with a most awful threatening look, accompanied ever by the same
-five words:
-
-“I CHOOSE to be alone.”
-
-It is easy to say choose, but more difficult to have one’s choice. The
-blackberry boys chose to remain; and in reply to each congé only proved
-by a general grin how very much teeth are set off to advantage by
-purple mouths. I confess I took pity on the pangs even of unwarrantable
-pride, and urged my proposal again with some warmth; but it was
-repelled with absolute scorn.
-
-“Fellow, you are insolent.”
-
-“Quis Deus vult perdere,” thought I, and I determined to let her take
-her fate, merely staying to mark the result. After a tedious interval,
-in which her mind had doubtless looked abroad as well as inward, it
-appeared that the rigour of the condition, as to riding only in her own
-carriage, had been somewhat relaxed to meet the exigency of the case. A
-fresh tapping at the window summoned the obsequious Humphrey to receive
-orders.
-
-“Present my compliments at the Grove--and the loan of the chariot will
-be esteemed a favour.”
-
-“By your leave, Ma’am, if I may speak--”
-
-“You may _not_.”
-
-Humphrey closed the door, but remained for a minute gazing on the
-panel, at a blue arm, with a red carving-knife in its hand, defending a
-black and white rolling-pin. If he meditated any expostulation, he gave
-it up, and proceeded to drive away the boys, one of whom was astride
-on the dead Plantagenet, a second grinning through his collar, and two
-more preparing to play at horses with the reins. It seemed a strange
-mode enough that he took to secure the harness, by hanging it, collar
-and all, on his own back and shoulders; but by an aside to me, he
-explained the mystery, in a grumble,
-
-“It be no use in the world. I see the charrot set off for Lonnon.
-I shan’t go compli_ment_ing no Grove. I’se hang about a bit at the
-George, and compli_ment_ a pint o’ beer.”
-
-Away he went, intending, no doubt, to be fully as good as his word: and
-I found the time grow tedious in his absence. I had almost made up my
-mind to follow his example, when hope revived at the sound of wheels,
-and up came a tax-cart carrying four insides, namely, two well-grown
-porkers, Master Bardell the pig-butcher, and his foreman Samuel Slark,
-or, as he was more commonly called, Sam the Sticker. They were both
-a trifle “the worse for liquor,” if such a phrase might honestly be
-applied to men who were only a little more courageous, more generous,
-and civil and obliging to the fair sex, than their wont when perfectly
-sober. The Sticker, especially--in his most temperate moments a perfect
-sky-blue-bodied, red-faced, bowing and smirking pattern of politeness
-to females, was now, under the influence of good ale, a very Sir
-Calidore, ready to comfort and succour distressed damsels, to fight for
-them, live or die for them, with as much of the chivalrous spirit as
-remains in our times. They inquired, and I explained in a few words the
-lady’s dilemma, taking care to forewarn them, by relating the issue of
-my own attempts in her behalf.
-
-“Mayhap you warn’t half purlite or pressing enough,” observed Sam,
-with a side wink at his master. “It an’t a bit of a scrape, and a
-civil word, as will get a strange lady up into a strange gemman’s gig.
-It wants warmth-like, and making on her feel at home. Only let me
-alone with her, for a persuader, and I’ll have her up in our cart--my
-master’s that is to say--afore you can see whether she has feet or
-hoofs.”
-
-In a moment the speaker was at the carriage-door, stroking down his
-sleek forelocks, bowing, and using his utmost eloquence, even to the
-repeating most of his arguments twice over. She would be perfectly
-safe, he told her, sitting up between him and master, and quite
-pleasant, for the pigs would keep themselves to themselves at the back
-of the cart, and as for the horse, he was nothing but a good one,
-equal to twelve mile an hour--with much more to the same purpose. It
-was quite unnecessary for Miss Norman to say she had never ridden
-in a cart with two pigs and two butchers; and she did not say it.
-She merely turned away her head from the man, to be addressed by
-the master, at the other window, the glass of which she had just
-let down for a little air. “A taxed cart, Madam,” he said, “mayn’t
-be exactly the wehicle, accustomed to, and so forth; but thereby,
-considering respective ranks of life, why, the more honour done to your
-humbles, which, as I said afore, will take every care, and observe
-the respectful; likewise in distancing the two hogs. Whereby, every
-thing considered, namely, necessity and so forth, I will make so bold
-as hope, Madam, excusing _more_ pressing, and the like, and dropping
-ceremony for the time being, you will embrace us at once, as you shall
-be most heartily welcome to, and be considered, by your humbles, as a
-favour besides.”
-
-[Illustration: “NONE BUT THE BRAVE DESERVE THE FAIR.”]
-
-The sudden drawing up of the window, so violently as to shiver the
-glass, showed sufficiently in what light Miss Norman viewed Master
-Bardell’s behaviour. It was an unlucky smash, for it afforded what the
-tradesman would have called “an advantageous opening” for pouring in a
-fresh stream of eloquence; and the Sticker, who shrewdly estimated the
-convenience of the breach, came round the back of the carriage, and as
-junior counsel “followed on the same side.” But he took nothing by the
-motion. The lady was invincible, or, as the discomfited pair mutually
-agreed, “as hard for to be _convinced into a cart_, as any thing on
-four legs.” The blackberry boys had departed, the evening began to
-close in, and no Humphrey made his appearance. The butcher’s horse was
-on the fret, and his swine grumbled at the delay. The master and man
-fell into consultation, and favoured me afterwards with the result, the
-Sticker being the orator. It was man’s duty, he said, to look after
-women, pretty or ugly, young or old; it was what we all came into the
-world to do, namely, to make ourselves comfortable and agreeable to
-the fair sex. As for himself, purtecting females was his nature, and
-he should never lie easy agin, if so be he left the lady on the road;
-and providing a female wouldn’t be purtected with her own free will,
-she ought to be forced to, like any other ’live beast unsensible of its
-own good. Them was his sentiments, and his master followed ’em up. They
-knowed Miss Norman, name and fame, and was both well-known respectable
-men in their lines, and I might ax about for their characters. Whereby,
-supposing I approved, they’d have her, right and tight, in their cart,
-afore she felt herself respectfully off her legs.
-
-Such were the arguments and the plan of the bull-headed pair. I
-attempted to reason with them, but my consent had clearly been only
-asked as a compliment. The lady herself hastened the catastrophe.
-Whether she had overheard the debate, or the amount of long pent-up
-emotion became too overwhelming for its barriers, I know not, but Pride
-gave way to Nature, and a short hysteric scream proceeded from the
-carriage. Miss Norman was in fits! We contrived to get her seated on
-the step of the vehicle, where the butchers supported her, fanning her
-with their hats, whilst I ran off to a little pool near at hand for
-some cold water. It was the errand only of some four or five minutes,
-but when I returned, the lady, only half conscious, had been caught
-up, and there she sate, in the cart, right and tight, between the two
-butchers, instead of the two Salvages, or Griffins, or whatever they
-were, her hereditary supporters. They were already on the move. I
-jumped into my own gig, and put my horse to his speed; but I had lost
-my start, and when I came up with them, they were already galloping
-into W----. Unfortunately her residence was at the further end of the
-town, and thither I saw her conveyed, struggling in the bright blue,
-and somewhat greasy, arms of Sam the Sticker, screaming in concert with
-the two swine, and answered by the shouts of the whole rabblement of
-the place, who knew Miss Norman quite as well, by sight, as “her own
-carriage!”
-
-[Illustration: “I’M AFRAID I’M IN LOW COMPANY!”]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: A MINOR CANON.]
-
-
-
-
-I CANNOT BEAR A GUN.
-
-    “Timidity is generally reckoned an essential attribute of the fair
-    sex, and this absurd notion gives rise to more false starts than
-    a race for the Leger. Hence screams at mice, fits at spiders,
-    faces at toads, jumps at lizards, flights from daddy longlegs,
-    panics at wasps, _sauve qui peut_ at sight of a gun. Surely, when
-    the military exercise is made a branch of education at so many
-    ladies’ academies, the use of the musket would only be a judicious
-    step further in the march of mind. I should not despair, in a
-    month’s practice, of making the most timid British female fond of
-    small-arms.”--HINTS BY A CORPORAL.
-
-
-    IT can’t be minced, I’m quite convinced
-      All girls are full of flam,
-    Their feelings fine and feminine
-      Are nothing else but sham.
-    On all their tricks I need not fix,
-      I’ll only mention one,
-    How many a Miss will tell you this,
-      “I cannot bear a gun!”
-
-    There’s cousin Bell can’t ’bide the smell
-      Of powder--horrid stuff!
-    A single pop will make her drop,
-      She shudders at a puff.
-    My Manton near, with aspen fear
-      Will make her scream and run:
-    “It’s always so, you brute, you know
-      I cannot bear a gun!”
-
-    About my flask I must not ask,
-      I must not wear a belt,
-    I must not take a punch to make
-      My pellets, card or felt;
-    And if I just allude to dust,
-      Or speak of number one,
-    “I beg you’ll not--don’t talk of shot,
-      I cannot bear a gun!”
-
-    Percussion cap I dare not snap,
-      I may not mention Hall,
-    Or raise my voice for Mr. Joyce,
-      His wadding to recall;
-    At Hawker’s book I must not look,
-      All shooting I must shun,
-    Or else--“It’s hard, you’ve no regard,
-      I cannot bear a gun!”
-
-    The very dress I wear no less
-      Must suit her timid mind,
-    A blue or black must clothe my back,
-      With swallow-tails behind;
-    By fustian, jean, or velveteen,
-      Her nerves are overdone:
-    “Oh do not, John, put gaiters on,
-      I cannot bear a gun!”
-
-    E’en little James she snubs, and blames
-      His Liliputian train,
-    Two inches each from mouth to breach,
-      And charged with half a grain--
-    His crackers stopp’d, his squibbing dropp’d.
-      He has no fiery fun,
-    And all thro’ her “How dare you, Sir?
-      I cannot bear a gun!”
-
-[Illustration: “JAMES’S POWDER.”]
-
-    Yet Major Flint,--the Devil’s in’t!
-      May talk from morn to night,
-    Of springing mines, and twelves and nines,
-      And volleys left and right,
-    Of voltigeurs and tirailleurs,
-      And bullets by the ton:
-    She never dies of fright, or cries
-      “I cannot bear a gun!”
-
-    It stirs my bile to see her smile
-      At all his bang and whiz,
-    But if I talk of morning walk,
-      And shots as good as his,
-    I must not name the fallen game:
-      As soon as I’ve begun,
-    She’s in her pout, and crying out,
-      “I cannot bear a gun!”
-
-    Yet, underneath the rose, her teeth
-      Are false, to match her tongue:
-    Grouse, partridge, hares, she never spares,
-      Or pheasants, old or young--
-    On widgeon, teal, she makes a meal,
-      And yet objects to none:
-    “What have I got, it’s full of shot!
-      I cannot bear a gun!”
-
-    At pigeon-pie she is not shy,
-      Her taste it never shocks,
-    Though they should be from Battersea,
-      So famous for blue rocks;
-    Yet when I bring the very thing
-      My marksmanship has won,
-    She cries “Lock up that horrid cup,
-      I cannot bear a gun!”
-
-    Like fool and dunce I got her once
-      A box at Drury Lane,
-    And by her side I felt a pride
-      I ne’er shall feel again:
-    To read the bill it made her ill,
-      And this excuse she spun,
-    “Der Freyschütz, oh, seven shots; you know,
-      I cannot bear a gun!”
-
-    Yet at a hint from Major Flint,
-      Her very hands she rubs,
-    And quickly drest in all her best,
-      Is off to Wormwood Scrubbs.
-    The whole review she sits it through,
-      With noise enough to stun,
-    And never winks, or even thinks,
-      “I cannot bear a gun!”
-
-[Illustration: WOOLWICH WARREN.]
-
-    She thus may blind the Major’s mind
-      In mock-heroic strife,
-    But let a bout at war break out,
-      And where’s the soldier’s wife,
-    To take his kit and march a bit
-      Beneath a broiling sun?
-    Or will she cry, “My dear, good-bye,
-      I cannot bear a gun?”
-
-    If thus she doats on army coats,
-      And regimental cuffs,
-    The yeomanry might surely be
-      Secure from her rebuffs;
-    But when I don my trappings on,
-      To follow Captain Dunn,
-    My carbine’s gleam provokes a scream,
-      “I cannot bear a gun.”
-
-    It can’t be minced, I’m quite convinced,
-      All girls are full of flam,
-    Their feelings fine, and feminine,
-      Are nothing else but sham;
-    On all their tricks I need not fix,
-      I’ll only mention one,
-    How many a Miss will tell you this,
-      “I cannot bear a gun!”
-
-
-
-
-TRIMMER’S EXERCISE, FOR THE USE OF CHILDREN.
-
-
-    Here, come, Master Timothy Todd,
-      Before we have done you’ll look grimmer,
-    You’ve been spelling some time for the rod,
-      And your jacket shall know I’m a Trimmer.
-
-    You don’t know your A from your B,
-      So backward you are in your Primer;
-    Don’t kneel--you shall go on _my_ knee,
-      For I’ll have you to know I’m a Trimmer.
-
-    This morning you hinder’d the cook,
-      By melting your dumps in the skimmer;
-    Instead of attending your book,--
-      But I’ll have you to know I’m a Trimmer.
-
-    To-day, too, you went to the pond,
-      And bathed, though you are not a swimmer:
-    And with parents so doting and fond--
-      But I’ll have you to know I’m a Trimmer.
-
-    After dinner you went to the wine,
-      And help’d yourself--yes, to a brimmer;
-    You couldn’t walk straight in a line,
-      But I’ll make you to know I’m a Trimmer.
-
-[Illustration: FANCY PORTRAIT--MRS. TRIMMER.]
-
-    You kick little Tomkins about,
-      Because he is slighter and slimmer;
-    Are the weak to be thump’d by the stout?
-      But I’ll have you to know I’m a Trimmer.
-
-    Then you have a sly pilfering trick,
-      Your school-fellows call you the nimmer,--
-    I will cut to the bone if you kick!
-      For I’ll have you to know I’m a Trimmer.
-
-    To-day you made game at my back:
-      You think that my eyes are grown dimmer,
-    But I watch’d you, I’ve got a sly knack!
-      And I’ll have you to know I’m a Trimmer.
-
-    Don’t think that my temper is hot,
-      It’s never beyond a slow simmer;
-    I’ll teach you to call me Dame Trot,
-      But I’ll have you to know I’m a Trimmer.
-
-    Miss Edgeworth, or Mrs. Chapone,
-      Might melt to behold your tears glimmer;
-    Mrs. Barbauld would let you alone,
-      But I’ll have you to know I’m a Trimmer.
-
-[Illustration: LITTLE JACK AND HIS TRIMMER.]
-
-
-
-
-SOME ACCOUNT OF WILLIAM WHISTON.
-
-    “That boy is the brother of Pam----.”--JOSEPH ANDREWS.
-
-
-“WILLIAM certainly _is_ fond of whist!”
-
-This was an admission drawn, or extracted, as Cartwright would say,
-like a double tooth from the mouth of William’s mother; an amiable and
-excellent lady, who ever reluctantly confessed foibles in her family,
-and invariably endeavoured to exhibit to the world the sunny side of
-her children.
-
-There can be no possibility of doubt that William _was_ fond of whist.
-He doted on it. Whist was his first passion--his first love; and in
-whist he experienced no disappointment. The two were made for each
-other.
-
-[Illustration: CARDY MUMS.]
-
-William was one of a large bunch of children, and he never grew up. On
-his seventh birthday a relation gave him a miniature pack of cards, and
-made him a whist-player for life. Our bias dates much earlier than some
-natural philosophers suppose. I remember William, a mere child, being
-one day William of Orange, and objecting to a St. Michael’s because it
-had no pips.
-
-At school he was a total failure; except in reckoning the odd tricks.
-He counted nothing by honours, and the schoolmaster said of his head
-what he has since said occasionally of his hand that “it held literally
-nothing.”
-
-At sixteen, after a long maternal debate between the black and red
-suits, William was articled to an attorney: but instead of becoming
-a respectable land-shark, he played double-dummy with the Common-Law
-Clerk, and was discharged on the 6th of November. The principal
-remonstrated with him on a breach of duty, and William imprudently
-answered that he was aware of his duty, like the ace of spades. Mr.
-Bitem immediately banged the door against him, and William, for the
-first time in his life--to use his own expression, “got a slam.”
-
-William having served his time, and, as he calls it, followed suit for
-five years, was admitted as an attorney, and began to play at that
-finessing game, the Law. _Short-hand_ he still studied and practised;
-though more in parlours than in court.
-
-William at one period admired Miss Hunt, or Miss Creswick, or Miss
-Hardy, or Miss Reynolds; a daughter of one of the great card-makers, I
-forget which--and he cut for partners, but without “getting the Lady.”
-His own explanation was that he “_was discarded_.” He then paid his
-addresses to a Scotch girl, a Miss MacNab, but she professed religious
-scruples about cards, and he _revoked_. I have heard it said that she
-expected to match higher; indeed William used to say she “looked over
-his hand.”
-
-William is short, and likes shorts. He likes nothing of _longs_, but
-the St. John of them: and he only takes to _him_, because that saint
-is partial to a _rubber_. Whist seems to influence his face as well as
-form; it is like a knave of clubs. I sometimes fancy whist could not
-go on without William, and certainly William could not go on without
-whist. His whole conversation, except on cards, is wool-gathering;
-and on that subject is like wool--carded. He “speaks by the card,”
-and never gives equivocation a chance. At the Olympic once he had a
-quarrel with a gentleman about _the lead_ of Madame Vestris or Miss
-Sydney: he was required to give his card, and he gave the “Deuce of
-Hearts.” This was what he termed “calling out.”
-
-Of late years William only goes out like a bad rushlight, earlyish of
-a night, and quits every table that is not covered with green baize
-with absolute disgust. The fairies love by night to “_gambol_ on the
-_green_,” and so does William, and he is constantly humming with great
-gusto,
-
-    “Come unto these yellow sands,
-    _And then take hands_.”
-
-The only verses, by the way, he ever got by heart. He never cared to
-play much with the Muses. They stick, he used to say, at Nine.
-
-William can sit longer--drink less--say as little--pay or receive as
-much--shuffle as well--and cut as deeply as any man on earth. You may
-leave him safely after dinner, and catch him at breakfast time without
-alteration of attitude or look. He is a small statue erected in honour
-of whist, and like Eloquence, “holds his hand well up.” He is content
-to ring the changes on thirteen cards a long Midsummer night; for he
-does not _play_ at cards--he _works_ at them, and considering the
-returns, for very low wages. William never was particularly lucky; but
-he bears the twos and threes with as much equanimity as any one, and
-seems, horticulturally speaking, to have grafted Patience upon Whist.
-I do not know whether it is the family motto, but he has upon his
-seal--with the great Mogul for a crest--the inscription of “Packs in
-Bello.”
-
-William is now getting old (nearly fifty-two), with an asthma;
-which he says makes him rather “weak in trumps.” He is preparing
-himself accordingly to “take down his score,” and has made his
-will, bequeathing all he has or has not, to a whist club. His
-funeral he directs to be quite private, and his gravestone a plain
-one, and especially “that there be no cherubims carved thereon,
-forasmuch,”--says this characteristic document, “that they never hold
-Honours.”
-
-[Illustration: A DOUBLE AT LONG’S.]
-
-
-
-
-THE FOX AND THE HEN.
-
-A FABLE.
-
-    Speaking within _compass_, as to fabulousness I prefer _Southcote_
-        to _Northcote_.--PIGROGROMITUS.
-
-
-    ONE day, or night, no matter where or when,
-      Sly Reynard, like a foot-pad, laid his pad
-    Right on the body of a speckled Hen,
-      Determined upon taking all she had;
-        And like a very bibber at his bottle,
-        Began to draw the claret from her throttle;
-    Of course it put her in a pretty pucker.
-        And with a scream as high
-                As she could cry,
-    She called for help--she had enough of sucker.
-
-        Dame Partlet’s scream
-    Waked, luckily, the house-dog from his dream,
-        And with a savage growl
-        In answer to the fowl,
-    He bounded forth against the prowling sinner.
-    And, uninvited, came to the Fox Dinner.
-
-[Illustration: NATIVES OF THE SILLY ISLANDS.]
-
-    Sly Reynard, heedful of the coming doom,
-        Thought, self-deceived,
-        He should not be perceived,
-    Hiding his _brush_ within a neighbouring _broom_;
-    But quite unconscious of a Poacher’s snare,
-        And caught in copper noose,
-        And looking like a goose,
-    Found that his fate “had hung upon a _hare_;”
-    His tricks and turns were rendered of no use to him,
-    And, worst of all, he saw old surly Tray
-        Coming to play
-        Tray-Deuce with him.
-
-    Tray, an old Mastiff bred at Dunstable,
-    Under his Master, a most special constable,
-    Instead of killing Reynard in a fury,
-    Seized him for legal trial by a Jury;
-    But Juries--Æsop was a sheriff then--
-    Consisted of twelve Brutes and not of Men.
-
-    But first the Elephant sat on the body--
-    I mean the Hen--and proved that she was dead,
-        To the veriest fool’s head
-        Of the Booby and the Noddy.
-
-    Accordingly, the Stork brought in a bill
-        Quite true enough to kill;
-    And then the Owl was call’d--for mark,
-    The Owl can witness in the dark.
-    To make the evidence more plain,
-    The Lynx connected all the chain.
-    In short there was no quirk or quibble
-    At which a legal Rat could nibble;
-    The Culprit was as far beyond hope’s bounds,
-    As if the Jury had been _packed_--of hounds.
-
-    Reynard, however, at the utmost nick,
-    Is seldom quite devoid of shift and trick;
-        Accordingly our cunning Fox,
-    Through certain influence, obscurely channel’d,
-    A friendly Camel got into the box,
-    When ’gainst his life the Jury was impanel’d.
-
-    Now, in the Silly Isles such is the law,
-        If Jurors should withdraw,
-    They are to have no eating and no drinking,
-    Till all are starved into one way of thinking.
-
-    Thus Reynard’s Jurors, who could not agree,
-    Were lock’d up strictly, without bit or mummock,
-    Till every beast that only had _one_ stomach,
-    Bent to the Camel who was blest with _three_.
-
-    To do them justice, they debated
-    From four till ten, while dinner waited
-    When thirst and hunger got the upper,
-    And each inclined to mercy, and hot supper:
-    “Not guilty” was the word, and Master Fox
-    Was freed to murder other hens and cocks.
-
-MORAL.
-
-    What moral greets us by this tale’s assistance
-      But that the Solon is a sorry Solon,
-    Who makes the full stop of a Man’s existence
-      Depend upon a _Colon_?
-
-[Illustration: PRO BONO PUBLICO.]
-
-
-
-
-THE COMET.
-
-AN ASTRONOMICAL ANECDOTE.
-
-    “I cannot fill up a blank better than with a short history of this
-    self-same _Star_ling.”--STERNE’S SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY.
-
-
-    AMONGST professors of astronomy,
-    Adepts in the celestial economy,
-      The name of H*******l’s very often cited,
-    And justly so, for he is hand and glove
-    With ev’ry bright intelligence above;
-    Indeed, it was his custom so to stop,
-    Watching the stars upon the house’s top,
-      That once upon a time he got be-knighted.
-
-    In his observatory thus coquetting
-      With Venus--or with Juno gone astray,
-    All sublunary matters quite forgetting
-    In his flirtations with the winking stars,
-    Acting the spy--it might be upon Mars--
-            A new André;
-    Or, like a Tom of Coventry, sly peeping,
-                At Dian sleeping;
-                Or ogling thro’ his glass
-                Some heavenly lass
-      Tripping with pails along the Milky Way;
-    Or looking at that Wain of Charles the Martyrs:--
-      Thus he was sitting, watchman of the sky,
-    When lo! a something with a tail of flame
-            Made him exclaim,
-    “_My_ stars!”--he always put that stress on _my_--
-                “_My_ stars and garters!”
-      “A comet, sure as I’m alive!
-    A noble one as I should wish to view;
-    It can’t be Halley’s though, _that_ is not due
-        Till eighteen thirty-five.
-    Magnificent!--how fine his fiery trail!
-    Zounds! ’tis a pity, though he comes unsought--
-    Unask’d--unreckon’d,--in no human thought--
-          He ought--he ought--he ought
-          To have been caught
-    With scientific salt upon his tail!”
-
-[Illustration: “POSSE COMETATIS.”]
-
-    “I look’d no more for it, I do declare,
-          Than the Great Bear!
-            As sure as Tycho Brahe is dead,
-            It really enter’d in my head
-          No more than Berenice’s Hair!”
-
-    Thus musing, Heaven’s Grand Inquisitor
-    Sat gazing on the uninvited visitor
-    Till John, the serving-man, came to the upper
-    Regions, with “Please your Honour, come to supper.”
-
-    “Supper! Good John, to-night I shall not sup
-    Except on that phenomenon--look up!”
-    “Not sup!” cried John, thinking with consternation
-    That supping on a _star_ must be _star_vation,
-            Or ev’n to batten
-    On Ignes Fatui would never fatten,
-    His visage seem’d to say,--that very odd is,--
-    But still his master the same tune ran on,
-    “I can’t come down,--go to the parlour, John,
-    And say I’m supping with the heavenly bodies.”
-
-    “The heavenly bodies!” echoed John, “Ahem!”
-    His mind still full of famishing alarms,
-    “’Zooks, if your Honour sups with _them_,
-    In helping, somebody must make long arms!”
-    He thought his master’s stomach was in danger,
-    But still in the same tone replied the Knight,
-            “Go down, John, go, I have no appetite;
-    Say I’m engaged with a celestial stranger.”--
-    Quoth John, not much au fait in such affairs,
-    “Wouldn’t the stranger take a bit down stairs?”
-
-    “No,” said the master, smiling, and no wonder,
-            At such a blunder,
-    “The stranger is not quite the thing you think,
-    He wants no meat or drink,
-    And one may doubt quite reasonably whether
-            He has a mouth,
-    Seeing his head and tail are joined together.
-    Behold him,--there he is, John, in the South.”
-    John look’d up with his portentous eyes,
-    Each rolling like a marble in its socket.
-    At last the fiery tad-pole spies,
-    And, full of Vauxhall reminiscence, cries,
-            “A rare good rocket!”
-
-    “A what! A rocket, John! Far from it!
-            What you behold, John, is a comet;
-    One of those most eccentric things
-              That in all ages
-              Have puzzled sages
-              And frighten’d kings;
-    With fear of change that flaming meteor, John,
-    Perplexes sovereigns, throughout its range”--
-              “Do he?” cried John;
-              “Well, let him flare on,
-    _I_ haven’t got no sovereigns to change!”
-
-[Illustration: THE HARVEST MOON.]
-
-
-
-
-LITERARY REMINISCENCES.
-
-No. III.
-
-
-MY first acquaintance with the press--a memorable event in an author’s
-experience--took place in Scotland. Amongst the temporary sojourners
-at our boarding-house, there came a legal antiquarian who had been
-sent for from Edinburgh, expressly to make some unprofitable researches
-amongst the mustiest of the civic records. It was my humour to think,
-that in Political as well as Domestic Economy, it must be better to
-sweep the Present than to dust the Past; and certain new brooms were
-recommended to the Town Council in a quizzing letter, which the then
-editor of the Dundee Advertiser or Chronicle, thought fit to favour
-with a prominent place in his columns. “’Tis pleasant sure,” sings
-Lord Byron, “to see one’s self in print,” and according to the popular
-notion I ought to have been quite up in my stirrups, if not standing
-on the saddle, at thus seeing myself, for the first strange time, set
-up in type. Memory recalls, however, but a very moderate share of
-exaltation, which was totally eclipsed, moreover, by the exuberant
-transports of an accessory before the fact, whom, methinks, I still
-see in my mind’s eye, rushing out of the printing-office with the wet
-sheet steaming in his hand, and fluttering all along the High Street,
-to announce breathlessly that “we were in.” But G. was an indifferent
-scholar, even in English, and therefore thought the more highly of
-this literary feat. It was this defective education, and the want of
-a proper vent for his abundant love nonsense in prose or verse, that
-probably led to the wound he subsequently inflicted on his own throat,
-but which was luckily remedied by “a stitch in time.” The failure of
-a tragedy is very apt to produce something like a comedy, and few
-afterpieces have amused me more than the behaviour of this Amicus
-Redivivus, when, thus dramatising the saying of “cut and come again,”
-he made what ought to have been a posthumous appearance amongst his
-friends. In fact, and he was ludicrously alive to it, he had placed
-himself for all his supplementary days in a false position. Like the
-old man in the fable, after formally calling upon Death to execute
-a general release, he had quietly resumed his fardel, which he bore
-about, with exactly the uneasy ridiculous air of a fine-would be
-gentleman, who is sensitively conscious that he is carrying a bundle.
-For the sake of our native sentimentalists who profess dying for love,
-as well as the foreign romanticists who affect a love for dying, it may
-not be amiss to give a slight sketch of the bearing of a traveller who
-had gone through half the journey. I had been absent some months, and
-was consequently ignorant of the affair, when lo! on my return to the
-town, the very first person who accosted me in the market-place was our
-felo-de-se; and truly, no Bashful Man, “with all his blushing honours
-thick upon him,” in the presence of a damp stranger, could have been
-more divertingly sheepish, and awkwardly backward in coming forward
-as to manner and address. Indeed, something or the embarrassment of
-a fresh introduction might naturally be felt by an individual, thus
-beginning again, as the lawyers say, _de novo_, and renewing ties he
-had virtually cast off. The guilty hand was as dubiously extended to
-me as if it had been a dyer’s,--its fellow meanwhile performing sundry
-involuntary motions and manipulations about his cravat, as if nervously
-mistrusting the correctness of the ties or the stability of a buckle.
-As for his face, there was a foolish, deprecatory smile upon it that
-would have puzzled the pencil of Wilkie; and even Liston himself could
-scarcely have parodied the indescribable croak with which, conscious of
-an unlucky notoriety, he inquired “if I had heard”--here, a short husky
-cough--“of anything particular?”
-
-“Not a word,” was the answer.
-
-“Then you don’t know”(--more fidgeting about the neck, the smile
-rather sillier, the voice more guttural, and the cough worse than
-ever)--“then you don’t know”--but, like Macbeth’s amen, the confession
-literally stuck in the culprit’s throat; and I was left to learn, an
-hour afterwards, and from another source, that “Jemmy G*** had _fought
-a duel with himself_, and cut his own weazand, about a lady.”
-
-For my own part, with the above figure, and all its foolish features
-vividly imprinted on my memory, I do not think that I could ever
-seriously attempt “what Cato did, and Addison approved,” in my own
-person. On the contrary, it seems to me that the English moralist gave
-but an Irish illustration of “a brave man struggling with the storms
-of fate,” by representing him as wilfully scuttling his own hold,
-and going at once to the bottom. As for the Censor, he plainly laid
-himself open to censure, when he used a naked sword as a stomachic--a
-very sorry way, by the way, when weary of conjectures, of enjoying
-the benefit of the doubt, and for which, were I tasked to select an
-inscription for his cenotaph, it should be the exclamation of Thisby,
-in the Midsummer Night’s Dream--
-
-    “This is old Ninny’s tomb.”
-
-_Mais revenons à nos moutons_, as the wolf said to her cubs. The
-reception of my letter in the Dublin Newspaper encouraged me to forward
-a contribution to the Dundee Magazine, the Editor of which was kind
-enough, as Winifred Jenkins says, to “wrap my bit of nonsense under
-his Honour’s Kiver,” without charging anything for its insertion.
-Here was success sufficient to turn a young author at once into “a
-scribbling miller,” and make him sell himself, body and soul, after
-the German fashion, to that minor Mephistopheles, the Printer’s Devil!
-Nevertheless, it was not till years afterwards, and the lapse of
-term equal to an ordinary apprenticeship, that the Imp in question
-became really my Familiar. In the meantime, I continued to compose
-occasionally, and, like the literary performances of Mr. Weller Senior,
-my lucubrations were generally committed to paper, not in what is
-commonly called written hand, but an imitation of print. Such a course
-hints suspiciously of type and antetype, and a longing eye to the Row,
-whereas, it was adopted simply to make the reading more easy, and
-thus enable me the more readily to form a judgment of the effect of
-my little efforts. It is more difficult than may be supposed to decide
-on the value of a work in MS., and especially when the handwriting
-presents only a swell mob of bad characters, that must be severally
-examined and re-examined to arrive at the merits or demerits of the
-case. Print settles it, as Coleridge used to say; and to be candid, I
-have more than once reversed, or greatly modified a previous verdict,
-on seeing a rough proof from the press. But, as Editors too well know,
-it is next to impossible to retain the tune of a stanza, or the drift
-of an argument, whilst the mind has to scramble through a patch of
-scribble scrabble, as stiff as a gorse cover. The beauties of the
-piece will as naturally appear to disadvantage through such a medium
-as the features of a pretty woman through a bad pane of glass; and
-without doubt, many a tolerable article has been consigned hand over
-head to the Balaam Box for want of a fair copy. Wherefore, O ye Poets
-and Prosers, who aspire to write in Miscellanies, and above all, O ye
-palpitating Untried, who meditate the offer of your maiden essays to
-established periodicals, take care, pray ye take care, to cultivate a
-good, plain, bold, round text. Set up Tomkins as well as Pope or Dryden
-for a model, and have an eye to your pothooks. Some persons hold that
-the best writers are those who write the best hands, and I have known
-the conductor of a magazine to be converted by a crabbed MS. to the
-same opinion. Of all things, therefore, be legible; and to that end,
-practise in penmanship. If you have never learned, take six lessons of
-Mr. Carstairs. Be sure to buy the best paper, the best ink, the best
-pens, and then sit down and do the best you can; as the schoolboys
-do--put out your tongue, and take pains. So shall ye haply escape the
-rash rejection of a jaded editor; so, having got in your hand, it is
-possible that your head may follow; and so, last not least, ye may
-fortunately avert those awful mistakes of the press which sometimes
-ruin a poet’s sublimest effusion, by pantomimically transforming his
-roses into noses, his angels into angles, and all his happiness into
-pappiness.
-
-
-
-
-THE OCEAN.
-
-CONSIDERED PER SE.
-
-    “A man whom both the waters and the wind, in that vast tennis-court
-    have made the ball for them to play upon, entreats you pity
-    him.”--PERICLES.
-
-
-IT was during a voyage to Margate, many summers ago--before steam
-_was_--that the little episode occurred which I am going to relate, by
-way of text, to some observations on the ocean.
-
-The importance of the Mariner’s Compass to the sailor is as well
-known universally as the utility of the little one-eyed instrument,
-for which Whitechapel is so famous, to the tailor: but its mode of
-action, and the manner of its application, must be far less generally
-understood. Whether the plougher of the deep mends his checked shirts
-with the Needle, or sews the canvas into sails with it, or uses it,
-after a battle, to extract the splinters from his hard tarry hand,
-are speculations likely enough to be entertained by the plougher of
-the land; at least by those clod-_compelling_ turners of the furrows,
-mid-county born and bred, who, despite of their predilection for such
-naval ballads as Tom Bowling and Jack Junk, have never set their
-simple eyes on ship or sailor, or the sea which they subdue. To many
-Londoners even, who jostle the tar in the streets, and behold tier
-after tier of masted vessels from their lower Bridge,--who have
-perchance stood and stared at the Compass itself in some shop-window
-of Leadenhall, or the still more maritime Minories, the Card with
-its _Card_-inal Points, is an undeciphered hieroglyphic. It did not
-violently surprise me, therefore, to see a simple-looking creature of
-this latter class go and take a long wondering look into the binnacle,
-like a child peeping at the tortoise in an Italian’s show-box; and
-doubtless, to his callow apprehension, the veering Guide was as much
-a thing of life and instinct as the outlandish reptile to the urchin.
-It was not until after a tedious poring at it--long enough, if there
-were any truth in animal magnetism, for the Needle and the Man to
-have understood one another by mutual sympathy--that the wonderer
-made up to the steersman, and begged for an elucidation of the marine
-mystery. Fortunately for the querist, the helmsman, along with all the
-characteristic good-nature of his fraternity, had none of the coyness,
-as to the secrets of the craft, with which the ripe sailor is apt to
-treat the raw voyager; perhaps not without cause. The nautical truths,
-masonic, may deserve to be obtained by degrees of probation: in the
-present case the unreserved communication of occult knowledge led to
-anything but a satisfactory result. No one could take more pains--call
-them pleasures rather--than the honest man at the wheel, to explain the
-use and properties of the Compass: he boxed it again and again for the
-benefit of the gaping neophyte; a benevolent smile, and the twinkling
-of his blue eyes, declaring that he felt amply repaid by the supposed
-proficiency of his pupil,--when, all of a sudden, his well-earned
-pride was dashed to the deck by the pupil’s turning away on his heel,
-with a hunch of his shoulders, a blank look, and a dissatisfied grunt,
-exclaiming,
-
-“Well, arter all, I don’t see how the turning round of that ’ere little
-needle can move about the rudder!”
-
-I should have been no Christian man, but a brute beast, had I not
-sympathised with the feelings of the steersman. Contempt took the lead.
-All “the dismal hiss of universal scorn,” ascribed to Milton’s devils,
-seemed condensed into his whistle. Next came Resentment, wishing back
-the Cockney-Tailor to his shop-board, sitting on his own needle--and
-then came Pity, inducing the milder reflection,
-
-“I wonder the poor gentleman’s friends allows him to go about by
-himself!”
-
-I doubt whether the force of contempt and pity could further go: and
-yet--to confess a truth--shall I?--dare I?--say, that to the intense
-sea-ignorance which incurred the scorn, anger, and compassion of our
-Palinurus, I look back with ENVY?
-
-Methinks, every British Heart of Oak recoils, and every British head of
-the same material shakes itself, at such an avowal! Every lip that ever
-helped to chorus Rule Britannia, curls itself up--noses which never
-sniffed sea-weed tacitly snub me,--eyes which never glimpsed the ocean
-avert themselves in disgust. I am bespattered with salt-water oaths
-and tobacco-juice. The Thames Yacht Clubs, on the strength of having
-learned to bellow “Elm a-lee!”--“Ard-hup!” and “Oist-away!” agree to
-run me down. The very clerks of the Navy Pay Office propose to seize me
-up to the dingy fresh-water Neptune in their fore-court. Captain Basil
-Hall swears, on his best anchor-button, to keel-haul me daily, for six
-months, in “the element which never tires.” The last of the Dibdins
-asks for my card. Campbell flares up with the “Meteor Flag of England,”
-and vows to knock me down with its staff;--nay, our Sailor King himself
-repudiates me, as a subject, for not relishing his _High Seas_!
-
-It can’t be helped. When one is confessing, there is no place under
-the sun like the Ocean for “making a clean breast of it:”--and am
-not I here staggering and tumbling--soberly tipsy--aboard a lubberly
-Dutch-built hull, becalmed in a heavy swell--dreaming, when I can
-sleep, that I am a barrel-churn, revolving with my inside full of
-half-turned cream or incipient butter;--and finding, when I awake, that
-dreams do not go so altogether by contraries?
-
-If this perpetual motion hold, the cargo of cheeses we shipped at
-Dordrecht, flat as single Glo’sters, will be delivered in London
-spherical as bowls! The Jung Vrouw herself, before she reaches the
-Nore, will be a washing-tub! I have doubts whether the salt beef,
-produced at this day’s luncheon, was, originally, a round. The leathern
-conveniency that I brought aboard, a fair and square trunk, is already
-almost a portmanteau;--and, what is worse, every several morsel I have
-swallowed this blessed day without bliss, seems rolling itself into
-a bolus or a pill,--whether of opium or ipecacuanha, I leave you to
-divine. If the calm should continue, I may become--who knows?--a Ball
-myself--a Master Biffin! Every half-hour, on feeling my knees and
-elbows, I find joints by this friction losing some of their asperities,
-and getting obtuser. A little more, and I shan’t have a good point
-about me!
-
-Is such as this a season to be squeamishly retentive in delivering
-one’s sentiments? Or, rather, is not open candour inevitable; seeing
-that you cannot have any reserve even with the merest stranger? It
-is impossible to keep your feelings to yourself. In spite, then, of
-Britannia, the Yacht Club, the Navy Pay,--of Dibdin, Campbell, and
-Basil Hall,--of the Lords of the Admiralty, with Portsmouth, Devonport,
-and Gosport, to boot--in spite of the Royal William, nay, in spite of
-my very self, the truth will out!--not sneaking out, or stepping out,
-or backing out, but bolting out, in a plain unequivocal straightforward
-style. I DO envy the simple man, with his sheer ignorance about rudders
-and compasses. I _do_ detest and abominate the ocean--or to phrase it
-more mildly--the sea and I cannot agree with each other--there is sure
-to be falling-out between us--we can never be bosom friends.
-
-The Marine Society must despise me for it; my Elder Brethren of the
-Trinity House will long to dispose of me as Joseph was made _away with_
-by _his_ elder Brethren; Boatswain Smith will preach, write Tracts
-and distribute them, against me: the Greenwich Pensioners will bind
-themselves by a round robin to kick me with me with their knottiest
-legs; Long Tom Coffin himself will be for fetching me, with a shroud in
-one hand, and a dead-light in the other; but I cannot eat my words.
-
-[Illustration: SEE-SAW.]
-
-It is no time, when you cannot keep your legs, to “stand bandying
-compliments with your sovereign,” that is, Neptune. If he were present
-at this moment, in this cabin, I would tell him, from this my seat on
-its floor, that he might very much improve his paternal estate, to
-wit, by levelling, and still more by draining it. I would flatly say
-to him, lying flat on my face as it now happens, that a few little
-gravel walks, merely across and across it, would be of rare advantage
-both for show and use. For ’tis a sorry pleasure-garden that is all
-fish-pond; and, finally, I would broadly hint to him, from the broad
-of my back, as I am at this present---- But this is bullying Taurus
-behind his back. There is no sea-god present, only the Skipper. How he
-skips in such weather, give him his pick of all the ropes in the ship,
-is a miracle I would fain see ere I believe in it. For my own part I
-cannot even step deliberately over a thread. Perhaps, without going too
-curiously into the Doctrine of Predestination, as regards the soul, it
-may hold good as concerns the body. Undoubtedly there be some men born
-to sit fast upon horses; others to fall off therefrom as if they had
-soaped saddles. Some to slide and skate upon the ice; others only to
-slip, straddle, and sprawl upon it. Some to walk, or at least waddle,
-on ships’ decks; others to flop, flounder, wallow, and grovel thereon.
-That is my destiny. None can be more safe on the Serpentine, or sure
-in the saddle;--but Fate, long before my great-great-great-grandfather
-was put to his feet, forbade me sea-legs. An average pedestrian on
-land, on the caulked plank I am a born cripple, hopeless of cure. Put
-me apprentice to the Goodwin, or the Dudgeon Light, at the end of my
-term you shall find me as unsafe on my soles as when I first paid my
-footing. Even now, whilst Hans Vandergroot and his crew are comfortably
-promenading, I rock and totter, balancing one end against the other,
-like a great rickety babe, until, after some posturing and scrambling,
-I trip up over nothing, and fall flat on everything. An earthquake in
-London, when its streets are what is called greasy, could not more
-puzzle my centre of gravity; if, indeed, I was not born a mathematical
-monster, devoid of that material point!
-
-By way of clincher, Fate, who never does things by halves, whilst
-foredooming me incapable of standing my ground at sea, has also denied
-me the power of settling it. A camp-stool is sure to decamp with me; a
-chair, as if it stood on Siberian ice, suddenly throws itself on its
-back, and behold me in an extempore sledge! Barrels roll from under
-me; coils of rope shuffle me off. Even on the plain bare hard deck,
-or cabin floor, I throw demi-summersets, as if I had been returned to
-Parliament to represent the Antipodes by sitting on the back of my head.
-
-To complete the Sea Curse,--there are three Fates, and each had a
-boon for me at my birth--it was ordained that, like the great Nelson,
-I should never sail from fresh water into salt, without knowing it by
-a general rising and commotion, which might be called figuratively, a
-Mutiny at the Nore.
-
-Like the standing and sitting infirmity, it is incurable. On my voyage
-outwards I tried every popular recipe; the hard ones first, to wit, raw
-carrots, raw onions, sailors’ biscuit with Dutch cheese, hard-boiled
-eggs, hard dumplings, raw stockfish. Next the easy ones: namely, cream
-cheese, Welsh rabbits, maccaroni, very hasty pudding, and insupportable
-soup. Then the neutrals: such as chewed blotting-paper, dry oatmeal,
-pounded egg-shells, scraped chalk, and unbaked dough.
-
-To wash these down, I took, by prescription, tea without milk, coffee
-without sugar, bark without wine, water without brandy; and these
-formulæ all failing, I then tried them, as witches pray, backwards;
-brandy without water, wine without bark, and so forth. The experimental
-combinations followed; rum and milk, and mustard; eggs and wine, and
-camomile tea; gin and beer, and vinegar; sea-water and salad-oil,
-mulled, with sugar and nutmeg. Of which last, I drank by advice most
-prodigiously, the Doctors of the Marine College dispensing always on
-the Homœopathic principle, that a large dose of anything, whereof a
-little would set you wrong on the land, will set you right on the sea.
-
-I need hardly say that, with my predisposed _necessitarian_ viscera,
-all these infallible remedies failed of any effect, except to aggravate
-my case. Nothing short of liquid lead, maybe, or potable plaster of
-Paris, would have proved a settler.
-
-Happy the man who hath never been driven in his despair to test,
-detest, invoke, evoke, swallow, and unswallow, such drugs and draughts
-of the naval Pharmacopœia! Thrice happy civic simpleton who hath never
-learned how the rudder revolveth, at the risk of _turning round_
-himself!
-
-Vandergroot is visibly in course of transformation. At every visit
-to the cabin he looks more and more like a Dutch-pin. He talks to me
-roundly, and gets blunter and blunter! The last time I felt, I had no
-small to my back. If I may guess at my own figure, it is now about
-an oval. I must look like one of Leda’s babies, just emerged, with
-their insignificant buds of legs and arms, from the egg! From an oval
-to a circle is but a step. Heaven help me when I get landed, round
-and sound, as they say of cherries! How shall I get home--how get
-up--(there will be a short way down)--mine own stairs? How shall I sit?
-Instead of my old library chair, I must borrow its three-legged stool
-of the terrestrial globe!
-
-Either my head swims, or the cabin is getting circular! I shall roll
-about in it like a bolus in its box! If I am not merely giddy, I am
-already as spherical as the earth; a little flatted, or so, that is,
-towards the poles. What a horrible rough calm! I will down on my knees,
-if I have knees, and with clasped hands, if hands remain to me, pray,
-beg, and supplicate for a dismal storm to batter me into shape again,
-though it be but nine-bobble-square!
-
-I get more and more candid and communicative every moment. I can keep
-nothing to myself: you shall have my whole heart. I abhor, loathe,
-execrate, the sea! If I could throw up my hat, my cry would be “Land
-for ever!” A fico for Tom Tough! Down with Duncan Howe, and Jervis! No
-Dibdin!
-
-If ever I get ashore, able to chalk upon a wall, you shall read--Ask
-for Stoke Pogis! Try Lupton Parva! If ever I get to a dry desk again,
-to write verse upon,--and the poetry of the ocean is all on the
-land, its prose only upon the sea, you shall have a rare new melody,
-published by Power, to some such strain as this:--
-
-      The sea! the D----!
-    The terrible horrible sea!
-      The stormy, tumbling,
-      Qualmy-jumbling,
-      Spirit-humbling,
-      Shingle-stumbling,
-      Sea-weed fumbling,
-      Wearing, crumbling,
-      Mischief-mumbling,
-      Growling, grumbling,
-    Like thunder far off rumbling-- --
-
-That last line halteth in its feet, as well it may, when the poet
-cannot keep his legs. Oh! it is well for Cornwall, born perchance “with
-one foot on sea and one foot on shore” at the Land’s End,--I have seen
-a picture of it by Turner, a bare bleak rocky promontory, with some
-nineteen gulls and cormorants sitting thereon, each with its tail
-turned contemptuously towards the barren granite, feldspar, and like
-sordid soils which there represent land.--It is well enough for him to
-chaunt laudations of the briny element, and cry up those amphibia, his
-first cousins almost, the Nereids and Tritons. Or it may become those
-others, born in a berth, and christened in brine, with Neptune for
-sponsor, to sing slightingly of the dry ground, on which they cannot
-claim even a parish. But my nativity was otherwise cast--I am a grass
-lamb, yeaned on the green sward--oh sweet sweet sweet Cropton-le-Moor,
-down in dear dear Wiltshire!
-
-[Illustration: “HOW ARE YOU OFF FOR MONEY?”
-
-“WHY I’M OFF WITH ALL MY MASTER’S.”]
-
-That pastoral reminiscence hath made me worse. It has given me an
-appetite--for acres. Methinks I yearn and long and crave for nice
-clay, delicious mould, and crisp pebbles, in a paroxysm of that
-strange bulimy that attacks the African Dirt Eater. Something of
-Nebuchadnezzar’s grazing propensity comes along with it. Gracious
-Heaven! can it be possible that, after having been battered and shaken
-out of all shape,--a mere mass of living flesh, like the unlicked
-ursine cub,--this same Circean Jung Vrouw has taken it into her
-figure-head to beat, bang, bump, and rumbledy-thump me into another
-form, a horse, a ram, or a brindled bull!
-
-Thrice brute and beast-hyæna! Were-wolf! Dragon! horned Devil! that
-thou wast, my Land-steward, Peter Stuckey! after counselling me before
-thy last audit to abate my rents, to volunteer to reduce them thyself
-by absconding, across sea, with the whole receipt! Thrice Soland goose,
-booby, noddy, sea-calf, land-donkey, and loggerhead turtle was I, thus
-impoverished, instead of economising, to pursue thee on an element
-where I cannot control my out-goings!
-
-Donner and Blitzen! what a crash! my rash prayer was heard: there is a
-storm coming--as the Powers proposed to storm Angiers in King John’s
-days--from all the four quarters at once! I must needs turn in: but
-how vilely this bed is made with the foot two yards higher than the
-head! No, the head is highest--perpendicular. I designed to lie down,
-and here I am standing bolt erect on my heels--no, on my head. It
-must be getting cold: the very trunks, stools and tables are making
-a move towards the stove--nay, now we are in some sudden peril, for
-they are all doing their best to rush up the cabin-stair. Whew--that
-sea last shipped must needs have put all the Dutchmen’s pipes out.
-Another plunge; and a flood of brine soaks me through, shirt, sheet,
-and blankets. There is no washing put out here, I perceive; ’tis all
-done at home. What a complex, chaotic motion,--the ship tosses and
-flings like a wild desert-born horse, that is trying to rear, kick up
-behind, turn round and round, and roll on his back at one and the same
-moment. This is no Dutch ship, but a Dutch fair--with the drums, gongs,
-speaking-trumpets, and other discords, all braying together; and I am
-on the rocking-horse, the round-about, in the up-and-down, and each
-of the swings, all at once! Another crash! The Jung Vrouw is bereaved
-of her little one, alias the long-boat. How kind of Vandergroot to
-come down to tell me of it, direct through the sky-light, instead of
-going round by the stair! How kind of that table, lying on its back,
-to catch him in its legs! Angels of grace be near us! He tells me, as
-he sways up and down, partly in High, partly in Low Dutch, that the
-Jung Vrouw herself is washed overboard! But no--I misconstrued him.
-’Tis only her great ruddy staring figure-head--which the blundering
-Holland shipwrights had stuck astern, on the crown of the tiller--that
-is gone adrift. Oh how I wish from my soul of souls that I could see
-the Commodore of the Thames Yachts now pulling, within hail, in the
-Wenus! Or, the last Dibdin taking a chair--or the chair taking him--in
-this cabin! Or, Campbell essaying to write down a new sea-song on yon
-topsy-turvy table! And oh! to behold the author of “The deep deep Sea”
-sitting on the poop, singing to that floating Young Woman’s head and
-bust, taken by mistake for a mermaid’s!
-
-Another shout. Pieter Pietersoon, in heaving the lead, hath chucked
-himself in along with it! I do not wonder; he heaveth after my own
-fashion, by wholesale. Have I not within the last two hours rejected,
-discharged, and utterly cast from me in disgust, the whole ocean,
-nay all the oceans, German, Atlantic, Pacific--the Arctic last, its
-solid calms, the next best things to Terra Firma, not so violently
-disagreeing with me as the rest. And do I not know and feel that I
-am now about to give up Neptune, trident and all, with the whole
-salt-water mythology? I warrant, ere ten minutes to come, there shall
-not remain within me so much as a syren’s mirror, or her tortoise-shell
-comb:--not one solitary Triton will be left on my stomach. Some
-unsavoury odour about the cabin--marvellously like the smell of oil
-paint--hath just given me a new turn, by conjuring up all the nauseous
-pictures of marine allegories, which even on steady dry land, used to
-stir and provoke my spleen.
-
-Oh! that they were all here, President, R.A., and A.R.A., in a string,
-climbing after me up this perilous slippery stair, to the more perilous
-slippery deck, there to crawl on all-fours to the ship’s side, and
-clinging like cats or monkeys to the quarter boards, take a trembling
-peep at what Vandergroot calls “den wild zee!” What an awful sight!
-The tempest-tost sky is as troubled as the ocean: whilst betwixt the
-jagged base of the low black cloud, and the still jaggeder crest of
-the sea, the red angry lightning restlessly darts to and fro, as if in
-search of whatever presuming mortal dares fare between them! Oh tell
-me, Mister Elias Martin--if you a’nt dead--is the tossing crest of
-yonder mad black billow, that comes racing after us, at all like the
-black worsted fringe which your brethren are apt to hang on the necks
-of their marine Arabians? But hush, yonder comes Neptune himself, in
-his state-coach--aye, hats off--the wind hath taught ye manners. Lo!
-yonder he stands,--Pshaw! no, no, no,--Zounds! you are all gaping at
-honest Hans Vandergroot. Look to starboard--to the left hand! That’s
-the gentleman, without his castor, nor indeed overwell togged otherwise
-for wet weather--with his beard lather’d but not shaved--standing up in
-an oyster-shell drag, and attempting, like a sorry whip as he is, to
-tool his team of bokickers with a potato-fork. Did you ever see four
-such unbroke brutes as he hath to keep together--neither reined-up,
-nor down, nor indeed, any ribbons to hold at all--and as I would have
-laid a pony to nothing, there they go, no pace at all, cause why? they
-are just come to some invisible sea obelisk, and each horse is for
-going down a road of his own. Did you ever set eyes on such action? No
-stepping out--but all pawing and prancing and putting their feet down
-again where they picked them up, like Ducrow’s dancing stud; as sure
-as I’m a judge, they have all got the string-halt in their fore-legs,
-because they can’t have it in their hinder ones! You may swear safely
-that they have four bad colds besides, and look what a rabble of
-naked postillions are hanging on by their manes, because they have no
-saddles, and if they had, they would never be able to sit in them with
-those salmon tails! Between ourselves, Elias, ’tis no great shakes of
-a show; the Lord Mayor’s pageant on the water beats it all to sticks;
-and if you make a picture of it, you will be a fool for your pains. Yet
-have I seen paintings by first-rate hands as like to this same trumpery
-Sadlers’ Wells water spectacle----
-
-Murder! murder! Help! help! O Lord! A surgeon and a shutter, if there
-be such comfortable things in this unneighbourly neighbourhood. O! oh!
-oh! oh! Woe is me! I am not--I am now certain and sure I am not a Ball!
-I have limbs and members! legs and arms! like other people’s, only
-they’re broke; and a very distinct back. My head! Oh! my head, my head;
-there are nine lumps thereon, and there are nine cabin stairs.
-
-The real Sea-King, in resentment, I suppose, of my untimely caricature
-of him and his state-coach, after spitting nine gallons of foam in my
-face, knocked me flat with a wave, and then kicked me down stairs;
-and here I am again trying to anoint my bruises with trunks, and bind
-them up with stools and tables, on the hard-hearted oak planks of the
-cabin-floor. Yet is it easier with me than I first feared. My legs are
-not broken but merely bent. I am only bandy and not lame for life; but
-my sea-sickness is not cured. Am I likely to put up, better or worse,
-think you, with Neptune and his satellites, for this unhandsome usage?
-
-[Illustration: “FRIEND! DOST THEE CALL THIS THE PACIFIC?”]
-
-The Jung Vrouw, meanwhile, is as giddy as ever, nay, worse ten times
-told. She hath taken a tinge of high-flying, deep-living, German
-Romanticism into her wooden head, and is trying, plunge after plunge,
-to drown herself, and to make me commit wilful suicide along with her,
-whether I will or not. After that, there is no hope; but oh! yet oh,
-my Fates, let me die upon land. I have a horror of shipboard! The idea
-of severing all ties in this cabin is trebly agonising. Why, the very
-table is tied to the floor, the candlestick to the table, the snuffers
-to the candlestick, the extinguisher to the snuffers. Only the burning
-candle is unattached, and there--there it jumps into bed! No matter; it
-could as soon set fire to the Thames. Another squall! How she groans,
-creaks, squeaks, strains, grinds, and squeezes, like a huge walnut in
-Neptune’s crackers? Accursed Jung Vrouw! thou wilt be the widowing
-of my poor dear old one! Accursed Peter Stuckey, thou wilt be the
-murdering of my poor deaf old self!
-
-I know not, for a surety, by reason that everything about me is
-quaking and shaking, but I suspect I am trembling like an aspen. It
-is impossible to hear, in the midst of this universal hubbub, but
-methinks, I am wailing and weeping aloud. But one may as well make
-a manly exit. Like other men, in such sea extremities, I would fain
-betake me to the rum-cask; but either Hans Vandergroot sails on
-Temperance principles, or I have looked in the wrong place. I will try
-a stave or two instead.
-
-    “Full fathom five--”
-
-[Illustration: THE BEST BOWER ANCHOR.]
-
-Alas! it will not go down. I am too much out of sorts for even the
-“delicate Ariel.” It was one thing for Shakspeare, sailing, hugging
-the shore, never out of sight of land, on the safe serene coasts of
-Bohemia, to compose such a sea song for the wood and canvas Tempests of
-the stage; but it is another guess thing to hear it, as I do, howled
-through hoarse ship-ropes, by Boreas himself, in a real storm. What
-comfort to me that everything about me shall suffer a sea-change?--that
-my bones shall turn, forsooth, into coral? I would not give a bad
-doit, with some of these poor metacarpal bones of mine to be rubbing
-the gums of the Royal Infant of Spain. I am not so blindly ambitious
-as to wish that these two precious useful balls of mine, turned into
-pearls, should shine in the British crown itself, or, what is more
-tempting, in the hair of the beautiful Countess of B. What if some
-economical jeweller--I think I feel him at it--should take it into his
-head to split them, for setting in a ring? As for the Syren’s knell,
-I would as lief have it as long hereafter as may be, from the plain
-prosaic old sexton of St. Sepulchre’s. I have no depraved yearning
-to be first wet-nursed to death, and then “lapped in Elysium,” by
-Mermaids, the most cold, flabby, washy, fishy, draggletails ever
-invented to give any human fancy the ague--half-and-half monsters,
-neither fish, nor flesh, nor good red herring. A whole cargo of them,
-nay a glut of them, leaping alive, unfit for loving or eating, is not
-worth one loveable real woman at Billingsgate, or one of the eatable
-maids on her stall. I could never imagine the boldest and gallantest
-boatswain encountering such a sea-witch, on a lone beach--combing the
-shrimps out of her wet sandy mud-coloured hair, and wriggling her
-foolish tail about, curling, or stretching it, or trying to put it into
-her pocket, forgetting that she has no pockets, as a shy man in company
-does not know what to do with his hands--I could never fancy him
-looking on such a creature, however attached to the fair sex, without
-his recoiling till he tumbled over his own pigtail, singing out, with a
-slight variation of a line of Dibdin’s,
-
-    “Avert yon ’oman, gracious Heaven!”
-
-For other sea-temptations, I would not give my old white pony, that
-stumbles over every stone in his road, and some out of it, to ride
-like that Lord Godolphin Arion over the seas on the fairest fish that
-was ever foaled. Speaking under fear of death, I would rather, waving
-all the romance, ride in a rill by a roadside on a stickle-back. On
-my solemn word, I would far liefer bestride even a pond perch with
-his dorsal fin erect. But hark! What means that dreadful cry? Our
-death-bell is tolling in Dutch--“Del, del, is verlooren!”
-
-I must scramble, crawl, haul myself, spite of my sprained ankles, up
-unto the deck how I may. Next best unto witnessing our own funeral is
-the seeing how we are done to death.
-
-What a sight! Here is the tiller tied hard a-port, or hard a-lee, as
-hard as they can tie it. Further back is the Skipper himself, entangled
-dismally by some cord or other to the stern-rails; and yonder is his
-mate, with a hundred and fifty turns of rope round himself and the
-mizen-mast, which he seems trying to strengthen. The gunner, as I take
-him to be, with a preposterous superfluity of breeching, is made fast
-to look through a hole, which seems to have been meant for a window to
-a cannon; and the carpenter, well pinioned and tethered by a stout
-rope to the back-stay, is sheepishly dangling therefrom, whenever his
-side of the ship is uppermost, like unto the Lamb of the Order of the
-Golden Fleece. The cook, having given away both his hands, is spliced,
-as if for life, unto the capstan. Adam Vaart is double-turned and
-double-knotted to the main-mast, and Hendrick his brother is belayed
-down, on the broad of his back, in the place of the lost long-boat.
-Should the anchor be dropped, Jan Bart is sure, even from head to foot,
-to go along with it. Poor little Yacob Yops, the apprentice, hath
-been turned over, and re-bound into a ring-bolt, by articles which
-are called rope-yarns; and lo, up yonder, lashed by his legs to the
-rattlines, hangs Diedrick Dumm-Kopf, head downwards, like a split cod
-left there to dry, in the main shrouds!
-
-Oh! that I were bound myself round and round all the ribs, from the top
-to the bottom, with good six-twist, lest even thus, in articulo mortis,
-I burst, split my sides, and die with excess of laughter. The Skipper,
-honest Hans, with much difficulty, for he grievously mistrusts his
-breathing to the beating of the wave, opening his mouth when it comes,
-and sealing up his lips when it is gone, hath let me into the whole
-secret. Considering the wild sea, he saith, and that no man can tie
-himself so surely as another man can, to some more steadfast substance,
-they had been all fastened, at their own special wish and agreement,
-to such hold-fasts as pleased them best, by Diedrick Dumm-Kopf, who
-was afterwards to provide for his safety as he judged surest, in order
-that he might liberate them again when the storm should be blown over.
-That accordingly, after first tying them all as securely as he was
-able, the said Diedrick betook himself to the main rigging, about half
-way up, to which he lashed himself by the ankles, holding on likewise
-with his hands, and his great clasp-knife in his mouth. That the Jung
-Vrouw driving before the wind and sea, they made shift, as they were to
-navigate her pretty comfortably for some twenty minutes or thereby,
-when all of a sudden they saw Diedrick, being seized with a vertigo,
-let go his hold and drop into his present posture, from which he could
-never recover himself; and it was that dismal sight which had extorted
-the universal outcry that I heard.
-
-I am sicker of the sea than ever! Is the safety of a Christian man’s
-life, and soul maybe, of no more interest than to be gambled away by
-such a set of Dutch Bottoms with Asses’ heads on their shoulders! Oh!
-that the worthy Chairman and all the Underwriters of Lloyd’s were here
-present on this deck--the mere sight of the Skipper’s countenance
-there, with not so much meaning in it as a smoked pig’s face, for
-_that_ means to be eaten, would scare them from all sea-risks for ever!
-
-Thanks be to Heaven! yonder’s a sail. It makes straight towards
-us--they come aboard. A Pilot?--well said! Oh, honest, good, dear
-Pilot, as you love a distressed poor countryman--as you understand
-the compass and how rudders are turned--if you know what a rope’s end
-is,--take the biggest bit of a cable you can pick, and give yonder
-Dutch sea-calves a round dozen a piece; ’twill cost you no great pains,
-seeing they are tied up ready to your hand. Pish! never mind their
-offence; they have mutinied against themselves. Smite, and spare not. I
-will go ashore meanwhile, in your boat. Hollo there! help me down. Take
-heed to my footing. Catch me, all of you, in your arms. Now I am in.
-No, I an’t! I an’t! I an’t!
-
-If ye had not hauled me in again with that same boat-hook, I was
-drown’d. My shoulder bleeds for it, but I forgive. Never heed me: look
-to your helms and sails. ’Tis only a gallon or two of sea-water, just
-swallowed, that is indisposed to go on shore with me. I am used to it,
-indeed I am. Pray, what is the name of this blessed boat? The Lively
-Nancy. Lively indeed! The Jung Vrouw was a Quakeress to her! At every
-jump she takes, my heart leaps also. Pray, pray, pray take in some
-canvas. You think you be sailing, but you are committing suicide. They
-mind me no more than stones. Oh! oh! I am out of Danger’s frying-pan
-into its fire! Peter Stuckey will be a murtherer after all!
-
-What a set of dare-devils! They grin like baboons whilst she is driving
-with half her deck under water! I will shut mine eyes and hold fast
-by something. I am worse than ever. I give myself up. Oh! oh! what an
-awful roaring, hissing, grinding noise we are come into! The bottom of
-the sea is coming out, or else the bottom of the boat! Hah! Help! help!
-I am heels upward! Why did not some kindly soul forewarn me that she
-was going to stop short on the beach? Stand all aside, and let me leap
-upon the sand. Ah! I have made my nose spout gore in my over-haste to
-kiss my native land!
-
-[Illustration: “WHY DON’T YOU LOOK OUT FOR WORK?”]
-
-Blessed be dry ground! Farewell, ocean! farewell, Jung Vrouw and Lively
-Nancy! Take my advice, and get married both of you to young farmers.
-Farewell, ye hang-dogs that saved me! Share my blessing amongst you;
-’tis all I have upon me or in me. Farewell, Neptune! We’ll part
-friends. If you ever come to Cropton-le-Moor, I shall be glad to see
-you, and not till then. Hans! Jan! Pieter! farewell one and all of you;
-“and if a merry meeting may be wished, God prohibit it.” Now for a
-sweet, safe, still, silent land-bed! Set me but within a run and a jump
-of one, and in two clipped current minutes I will be fast asleep in it,
-even like the Irishman who forgot to say his prayers, but remembered to
-say amen.
-
-
-
-
-LOVE AND LUNACY.
-
-
-    The Moon--who does not love the silver moon,
-      In all her fantasies and all her phases?
-    Whether full-orb’d in the nocturnal noon,
-      Shining in all the dewdrops on the daisies,
-      To light the tripping Fairies in their mazes,
-    Whilst stars are winking at the pranks of Puck;
-      Or huge and red, as on brown sheaves she gazes;
-    Or new and thin, when coin is turn’d for luck;
-    Who will not say that Dian is a Duck?
-
-    But, oh! how tender, beautiful and sweet,
-      When in her silent round, serene and clear,
-    By assignation loving fancies meet,
-      To recompense the pangs of absence drear!
-      So Ellen, dreaming of Lorenzo, dear,
-    But distant from the city mapp’d by Mogg,
-      Still saw his image in that silver sphere,
-    Plain as the Man with lantern, bush, and dog,
-    That used to set our ancestors a-gog.
-
-    And so she told him in a pretty letter,
-    That came to hand exactly as Saint Meg’s
-    Was striking ten--eleven had been better;
-      For then he might have eaten six more eggs,
-      And both of the bedevill’d turkey-legs,
-    With relishes from East, West, North, and South,
-      Draining, beside, the teapot to the dregs;
-    Whereas a man, whose heart is in his mouth,
-    Is rather spoilt for hunger and for drouth.
-
-[Illustration: ABSTRACTION.]
-
-    And so the kidneys, broiling hot, were wasted;
-      The brawn--it never enter’d in his thought;
-    The grated Parmesan remained untasted;
-      The potted shrimps were left as they were bought,
-      The capelings stood as merely good for nought,
-    The German sausage did not tempt him better,
-      Whilst Juno, licking her poor lips, was taught
-    There’s neither bone nor skin about a letter,
-    Gristle, nor scalp, that one can give a setter.
-
-    Heav’n bless the man who first devised a mail!
-      Heav’n bless that public pile which stands concealing
-    The Goldsmiths’ front with such a solid veil!
-      Heav’n bless the Master, and Sir Francis Freeling,
-      The drags, the nags, the leading or the wheeling,
-    The whips, the guards, the horns, the coats of scarlet,
-      The boxes, bags, those evening bells a-pealing!
-    Heav’n bless, in short, each posting thing, and varlet
-    That helps a Werter to a sigh from Charlotte.
-
-    So felt Lorenzo as he oped the sheet,
-      Where, first, the darling signature he kiss’d,
-    And then, recurring to its contents sweet
-      With thirsty eyes, a phrase I must enlist,
-      He _gulp’d_ the words to hasten to their gist;
-    In mortal ecstasy his soul was bound--
-      When, lo! with features all at once a-twist,
-    He gave a whistle, wild enough in sound
-    To summon Faustus’s Infernal Hound!
-
-    Alas! what little miffs and tiffs in love,
-      A snubbish word, or pouting look mistaken,
-    Will loosen screws with sweethearts hand and glove,
-      Oh! love, rock firm when chimney-pots were shaken,
-      A pettish breath will into huffs awaken,
-    To spit like hump-back’d cats, and snarling Towzers!
-      Till hearts are wreck’d and founder’d, and forsaken,
-    As ships go to Old Davy, Lord knows how, Sirs,
-    While heav’n is blue enough for Dutchmen’s trowsers!
-
-    “The moon’s at full, love, and I think of you”--
-      Who would have thought that such a kind P.S.
-    Could make a man turn white, then red, then blue,
-      Then black, and knit his eyebrows and compress
-      His teeth, as if about to effervesce
-    Like certain people when they lose at whist!
-      So look’d the chafed Lorenzo, ne’ertheless,
-    And, in a trice, the paper he had kiss’d
-    Was crumpled like a snowball in his fist!
-
-    Ah! had he been less versed in scientifics,
-      More ignorant, in short, of what is what:
-    He ne’er had flared up in such calorifics;
-      But he _would_ seek societies, and trot
-      To clubs, Mechanics’ institutes, and got
-    With Birkbeck--Bartley--Combe--George Robins--Rennie,
-      And other lecturing men. And had he not
-    That work, of weekly parts, which sells so many,
-    The Copper-bottomed Magazine--or “Penny?”
-
-    But, of all learned pools whereon, or in,
-      Men dive like dabchicks, or like swallows skim,
-      Some hardly damp’d, some wetted to the skin,
-      Some drown’d like pigs when they attempt to swim,
-      Astronomy was most Lorenzo’s whim,
-    (’Tis studied by a Prince amongst the Burmans);
-      He loved those heavenly bodies which, the Hymn
-    Of Addison declares, preach solemn sermons,
-    While waltzing on their pivots like young Germans.
-
-    Night after night, with telescope in hand,
-      Supposing that the night was fair and clear,
-    Aloft, on the house-top, he took his stand,
-      Till he obtained to know each twinkling sphere
-      Better, I doubt, than Milton’s “Starry Vere;”
-    Thus, reading thro’ poor Ellen’s fond epistle,
-      He soon espied the flaw--the lapse so sheer
-    That made him raise his hair in such a bristle,
-    And like the Boatswain of the Storm-Ship whistle.
-
-    “The moon’s at full, love, and I think of thee,”--
-      “Indeed! I’m very much her humble debtor,
-    But not the moon-calf she would have me be,
-      Zounds! does she fancy that I know no better?”
-      Herewith, at either corner of the letter
-    He gave a most ferocious, rending, pull;--
-      “O woman! woman! that no vows can fetter,
-    A moon to stay for three weeks at the full!
-    By Jove! a very pretty cock-and-bull!
-
-    “The moon at full! ’twas very finely reckon’d!
-      Why so she wrote me word upon the first--
-    The twelfth, and now upon the twenty-second--
-      Full!--yes--it must be full enough to burst!
-      But let her go--of all vile jilts the worst”--
-    Here with his thumbs he gave contemptuous snaps,
-      Anon he blubber’d like the child that’s nurs’d,
-    And then he hit the table frightful raps,
-    And stamped till he had broken both his straps.
-
-    “The moon’s at full--and I am in her thought--
-      No doubt; I do believe it in my soul!”
-    Here he threw up his head, and gave a snort
-      Like a young horse first harness’d to a pole:
-      “The moon is full--aye, so is this d--d bowl!”
-    And, grinning like the sourest of curmudgeons,
-      Globe--water--fishes--he dash’d down the whole,
-    Strewing the carpet with the gasping gudgeons;
-    Men do the strangest things in such love-dudgeons.
-
-    “I fill her thoughts--her memory’s vice-gerent?
-      No, no,--some paltry puppy--three weeks old--
-    And round as Norval’s shield”--thus incoherent
-      His fancies grew as he went on to scold;
-      So stormy waves are into breakers roll’d,
-    Work’d up at last to mere chaotic wroth--
-      This--that--heads--tails--thoughts jumbled uncontroll’d
-    As onions, turnips, meat, in boiling broth,
-    By turns bob up, and splutter in the froth.
-
-[Illustration: HOME’S DOUGLAS.]
-
-    “Fool that I was to let a baby face--
-      A full one--like a hunter’s--round and red--
-    Ass that I am, to give her more a place
-      Within this heart”--and here he struck his head.
-      “’Sdeath are the Almanack-compilers dead?
-    But no--’tis all an artifice--a trick,
-      Some newer face--some dandy under-bred--
-    Well--be it so--of all the sex I’m sick!”
-    Here Juno wonder’d why she got a kick.
-
-    “‘The moon is full’--where’s her infernal scrawl?
-      ‘And you are in my thought: that silver ray
-    Will ever your dear image thus recall’--
-      My image? Mine! She’d barter it away
-      For Pretty Poll’s on an Italian’s tray!
-    Three weeks, full weeks,--it is too plain--too bad--
-      Too gross and palpable! Oh cursed day!
-    My senses have not crazed--but if they had--
-    Such moons would worry a Mad Doctor mad!
-
-    “Oh Nature! wherefore did you frame a lip
-      So fair for falsehood? Wherefore have you drest
-    Deceit so angel-like?” With sudden rip
-      He tore six new buff buttons from his vest
-      And groped with hand impetuous at his breast,
-    As if some flea from Juno’s fleecy curls
-      Had skipp’d to batten on a human chest,
-    But no--the hand comes forth, and down it hurls
-    A lady’s miniature beset with pearls.
-
-    Yet long upon the floor it did not tarry,
-      Before another outrage could be plann’d:
-    Poor Juno, who had learn’d to fetch and carry,
-      Pick’d up and brought it to her master’s hand,
-      Who seized it, and the mimic feature scann’d;
-    Yet not with the old loving ardent drouth,
-      He only saw in that fair face, so bland,
-    Look how he would at it, east, west, north, south.
-    A moon, a full one, with eyes, nose, and mouth.
-
-    “I’ll go to her,”--herewith his hat he touch’d,
-      And gave his arm a most heroic brandish;
-    “But no--I’ll write”--and here a spoon he clutch’d,
-      And ramm’d it with such fury in the standish,
-      A sable flood, like Niger the outlandish,
-    Came rushing forth--Oh Antics and Buffoons!
-      Ye never danced a caper so ran-dan-dish;
-    He jump’d, thump’d--tore--swore, more than ten dragoons,
-      At all nights, noons, moons, spoons, and pantaloons!
-
-    But soon ashamed, or weary, of such dancing,
-      Without a Collinet’s or Weippert’s band,
-    His rampant arms and legs left off their prancing,
-      And down he sat again, with pen in hand,
-      Not fiddle-headed, or King’s-pattern grand,
-      But one of Bramah’s patent Caligraphics;
-      And many a sheet it spoil’d before he plann’d
-    A likely letter. Used to pure seraphics,
-    Philippics sounded strangely after Sapphics.
-
-    Long while he rock’d like Yankee in his chair,
-      Staring as he would stare the wainscot through,
-    And then he thrust his fingers in his hair,
-      And set his crest up like a cockatoo;
-      And trampled with his hoofs, a mere Yahoo:
-    At last with many a tragic frown and start,
-      He penn’d a billet, very far from doux,
-    ’Twas sour, severe--but think of a man’s smart
-    Writing with lunar caustic on his heart!
-
-    The letter done and closed, he lit his taper,
-      And sealing, as it were, his other mocks,
-    He stamped a grave device upon the paper,
-      No Cupid toying with his Psyche’s locks,
-      But some stern head of the old Stoic stocks--
-    Then, fiercely striding through the staring streets,
-      He dropt the bitter missive in a box,
-    Beneath the cakes and tarts, and sugar’d treats,
-    In Mrs. Smelling’s window full of sweets.
-
-[Illustration: BROKE BY A FALL OF THE STOCKS.]
-
-    Soon sped the letter--thanks to modern plans,
-      Our English mails run little in the style
-    Of those great German wild-beast caravans,
-      _Eil_-wagons--tho’ they do not “go like _ile_,”--
-      But take a good twelve minutes to the mile--
-    On Monday morning, just at ten o’clock,
-      As Ellen humm’d “The young May Moon” the while,
-    Her ear was startled by that double knock
-    Which thrills the nerves like an electric shock!
-
-    Her right hand instantly forgot its cunning,
-      And down into the street it dropt, or flung,
-    Right on the hat and wig of Mr. Gunning,
-      The jug that o’er her ten-week stocks had hung;
-      Then down the stairs by twos and threes she sprung,
-    And through the passage like a burglar darted.
-      Alas! how sanguine are the fond and young--
-    She little thought, when with the coin she parted,
-    She paid a sixpence to be broken-hearted!
-
-[Illustration: “WHEN WILL IT REACH LONDON?”]
-
-    Too dear at any price--had she but paid
-      Nothing and taken discount, it was dear;
-    Yet, worthless as it was, the sweet-lipped maid
-      Oft kissed the letter in her brief career
-      Between the lower and the upper sphere,
-    Where, seated in a study bistre-brown,
-      She tried to pierce a mystery as clear
-    As _that_ I saw once puzzling a young clown--
-    “Reading Made Easy,” but turned upside down.
-
-    Yet Ellen, like most Misses in the land,
-      Had sipped sky blue, through certain of her teens,
-    At one of those establishments which stand
-      In highways, byeways, squares, and village greens;
-      ’Twas called “The Grove,”--a name that always means
-    Two poplars stand like sentries at the gate--
-      Each window had its close Venetian screens
-    And Holland blind, to keep in a cool state
-    The twenty-four Young Ladies of Miss Bate.
-
-    But when the screens were left unclosed by chance,
-      The blinds not down, as if Miss B. were dead,
-    Each upper window to a passing glance
-      Revealed a little dimity white bed;
-      Each lower one a cropp’d or curly head;
-    And thrice a week, for soul’s and health’s economies,
-      Along the road the twenty four were led,
-    Like coupled hounds, whipped in by two she-dominies
-    With faces rather graver than Melpomene’s.
-
-    And thus their studies they pursued:--On Sunday,
-      Beef, collects, batter, texts from Dr. Price;
-    Mutton, French, pancakes, grammar--of a Monday;
-      Tuesday--hard dumplings, globes, Chapone’s Advice;
-      Wednesday--fancy-work, rice-milk (no spice);
-    Thursday--pork, dancing, currant-bolsters, reading;
-      Friday--beef, Mr. Butler, and plain rice;
-    Saturday--scraps, short lessons and short feeding,
-    Stocks, back-boards, hash, steel-collars, and good breeding
-
-    From this repertory of female learning,
-      Came Ellen once a quarter, always fatter!
-    To gratify the eyes of parents yearning.
-      ’Twas evident in bolsters, beef, and batter,
-      Hard dumplings, and rice-milk, she did not smatter,
-    But heartily, as Jenkins says, “demollidge;”
-      But as for any learning, not to flatter,
-    As often happens when girls leave their college,
-    She had done nothing but grow out of knowledge.
-
-[Illustration: PRACTICE DRIVES ME MAD.]
-
-    At Long Division sums she had no chance,
-      And History was quite as bad a balk;
-    Her French it was too small for Petty France,
-      And Priscian suffered in her English talk:
-      Her drawing might be done with cheese or chalk;
-    As for the globes--the use of the terrestrial
-      She knew when she went out to take a walk,
-    Or take a ride; but, touching the celestial,
-    Her knowledge hardly soared above the bestial.
-
-    Nothing she learned of Juno, Pallas, Mars;
-      Georgium, for what she knew, might stand for Burgo,
-    Sidus, for Master: then, for northern stars,
-      The Bear she fancied did in sable fur go,
-      The Bull was Farmer Giles’s bull, and, ergo,
-    The Ram the same that butted at her brother;
-      As for the Twins, she only guessed that Virgo,
-    From coming after them, must be their mother;
-    The Scales weighed soap, tea, figs, like any other.
-
-    As ignorant as donkeys in Gallicia,
-      She thought that Saturn, with his Belt, was but
-    A private, may be, in the Kent Militia;
-      That Charles’s Wain would stick in a deep rut,
-      That Venus was a real West-End slut--
-    Oh, Gods and Goddesses of Greek Theogony!
-      That Berenice’s Hair would curl and cut,
-    That Cassiopëia’s Chair was good Mahogany,
-    Nicely French-polished,--such was her cosmogony!
-
-    Judge, then, how puzzled by the scientifics
-      Lorenzo’s letter came now to dispense;
-    A lizard, crawling over hieroglyphics,
-      Knows quite as much of their Egyptian sense;
-      A sort of London fog, opaque and dense,
-    Hung over verbs, nouns, genitives, and datives.
-      In vain she pored and pored, with eyes intense;
-    As well is known to oyster-operatives,
-    Mere looking at the shells won’t open natives.
-
-    Yet mixed with the hard words, so called, she found
-      Some easy ones that gave her heart the staggers:
-    Words giving tongue against her, like a hound
-      At picking out a fault--words speaking daggers.
-      The very letters seemed, in hostile swaggers,
-    To lash their tails, but not as horses do,
-      Nor like the tails of spaniels, gentle waggers,
-    But like a lion’s, ere he tears in two
-      A black, to see if he is black all through.
-
-    With open mouth, and eyeballs at full stretch,
-      She gazed upon the paper sad and sorry,
-    No sound--no stir--quite petrified, poor wretch!
-      As when Apollo, in old allegory,
-      Down-stooping like a falcon, made his quarry
-    Of Niobe, just turned to Purbeck stone;
-    In fact, since Cupid grew into a worry,
-      Judge if a suing lover, let alone
-      A lawyer, ever wrote in such a tone.
-
-[Illustration: A POUTER.]
-
-    “Ellen, I will no longer call you mine,
-      That time is past, and ne’er can come again;
-    However other lights undimmed may shine,
-      And undiminishing, one truth is plain,
-      Which I, alas! have learned,--that love can wane.
-    The dream is pass’d away, the veil is rent,
-      Your heart was not intended for my reign;
-    A sphere so full, I feel, was never meant
-    With one poor man in it to be content.
-
-    “It must, no doubt, be pleasant beyond measure,
-      To wander underneath the whispering bough
-    With Dian, a perpetual round of pleasure.
-      Nay, fear not,--I absolve of every vow,--
-      Use,--use your own celestial pleasure now,
-    Your apogee and perigee arrange.
-      Herschel might aptly stare and wonder how,
-    To me that constant disk has nothing strange--
-    A counterfeit is sometimes hard to change.
-
-    “Oh Ellen! I once little thought to write
-      Such words unto you, with so hard a pen;
-    Yet outraged love will change its nature quite,
-      And turn like tiger hunted to its den--
-      How Falsehood trips in her deceits on men!
-    And stands abash’d, discover’d, and forlorn!
-      Had it been only cusp’d--but gibbous--then
-    It had gone down--but Faith drew back in scorn,
-    And would not swallow it--without a horn!
-
-    “I am in occultation,--that is plain:
-      My culmination’s past,--that’s quite as clear.
-    But think not I will suffer your disdain
-      To hang a lunar rainbow on a tear.
-      Whate’er my pangs, they shall be buried here;
-    No murmur,--not a sigh,--shall thence exhale:
-      Smile on,--and for your own peculiar sphere
-    Choose some eccentric path,--you cannot fail,
-    And pray stick on a most portentous tail!
-
-    “Farewell! I hope you are in health and gay;
-      For me, I never felt so well and merry--
-    As for the bran-new idol of the day,
-      Monkey or man, I am indifferent--very!
-      Nor e’en will ask who is the Happy Jerry;
-    My jealousy is dead, or gone to sleep,
-      But let me hint that you will want a wherry,
-    Three weeks’ spring-tide, and not a chance of neap,
-    Your parlours will be flooded six feet deep!”
-
-[Illustration: POND’S ASTRONOMY.]
-
-    “Oh Ellen! how delicious was that light
-      Wherein our plighted shadows used to blend,
-    Meanwhile the melancholy bird of night--
-      No more of that----the lover’s at an end.
-      Yet if I may advise you, as a friend,
-    Before you next pen sentiments so fond,
-      Study your cycles--I would recommend
-    Our Airy--and let South be duly conn’d,
-    And take a dip, I beg, in the great Pond.
-
-    “Farewell again! it is farewell for ever!
-      Before your lamp of night be lit up thrice,
-    I shall be sailing, haply, for Swan River,
-      Jamaica, or the Indian land of rice,
-      Or Boothia Felix--happy clime of ice!
-    For Trebizond, or distant Scanderoon,
-      Ceylon, or Java redolent of spice,
-    Or settling, neighbour of the Cape baboon,
-    Or roaming o’er--The Mountains of the Moon!
-
-    “What matters where? my world no longer owns
-      That dear meridian spot from which I dated
-    Degrees of distance, hemispheres, and zones,
-      A globe all blank and barren and belated.
-      What matters where my future life be fated?
-    With Lapland hordes, or Koords or Afric peasant,
-      A squatter in the western woods located,
-    What matters where? My bias, at the present,
-    Leans to the country that reveres the Crescent!
-
-    “Farewell! and if for ever, fare thee well!
-      As wrote another of my fellow-martyrs:
-    I ask no sexton for his passing-bell,
-      I do not ask your tear-drops to be starters,
-      However I may die, transfix’d by Tartars,
-    By Cobras poisoned, by Constrictors strangled,
-      By shark or cayman snapt above the garters,
-    By royal tiger or Cape lion mangled,
-    Or starved to death in the wild woods entangled,
-
-    “Or tortured slowly at an Indian stake,
-      Or smother’d in the sandy hot simoom,
-    Or crush’d in Chili by earth’s awful quake,
-      Or baked in lava, a Vesuvian tomb,
-      Or dirged by syrens and the billows’ boom
-    Or stiffen’d to a stock mid Alpine snows,
-      Or stricken by the plague with sudden doom,
-    Or suck’d by Vampyres to a last repose,
-    Or self-destroy’d, impatient of my woes,
-
-    “Still fare you well, however I may fare,
-      A fare perchance to the Lethean shore,
-    Caught up by rushing whirlwinds in the air,
-      Or dash’d down cataracts with dreadful roar:
-      Nay, this warm heart, once yours unto the core,
-    This hand you should have claim’d in church or minster
-      Some cannibal may gnaw”--she read no more--
-    Prone on the carpet fell the senseless spinster,
-    Losing herself, as ’twere, in Kidderminster!
-
-    Of course of such a fall the shock was great,
-      In rush’d the father, panting from the shop,
-    In rush’d the mother, without cap or tête,
-      Pursued by Betty Housemaid with her mop;
-      The cook to change her apron did not stop,
-    The charwoman next scrambled up the stair,--
-      All help to lift, to haul, to seat, to prop,
-    And then they stand and smother round the chair,
-    Exclaiming in a chorus, “Give her air!”
-
-    One sears her nostrils with a burning feather,
-      Another rams a phial up her nose;
-    A third crooks all her finger-joints together,
-      A fourth rips her up laces and her bows,
-      While all by turns keep trampling on her toes,
-    And, when she gasps for breath, they pour in plump
-      A sudden drench that down her thorax goes,
-    As if in fetching her--some wits so jump--
-    She must be fetched with water like a pump!
-
-[Illustration: “SHE’S BLACK IN THE FACE!”]
-
-    No wonder that thus drench’d, and wrench’d, and gall’d,
-      As soon as possible from syncope’s fetter
-    Her senses had the sense to be recall’d,
-      “I’m better--that will do--indeed I’m better,”
-      She cried to each importunate besetter;
-    Meanwhile, escaping from the stir and smother,
-      The prudent parent seized the lover’s letter,
-    (Daughters should have no secrets with a Mother)
-    And read it thro’ from one end to the other.
-
-    From first to last she never skipp’d a word--
-      For young Lorenzo of all youths was one
-    So wise, so good, so moral she averr’d,
-      So clever, quite above the common run--
-      She made him sit by her, and call’d him son,
-    No matrimonial suit, e’en Duke’s or Earl’s,
-      So flatter’d her maternal feelings--none!
-    For mothers always think young men are pearls
-    Who come and throw themselves before their girls.
-
-[Illustration: DECAPITATION.]
-
-    And now, at warning signal from her finger,
-      The servants most reluctantly withdrew,
-    But list’ning on the stairs contrived to linger;
-      For Ellen, gazing round with eyes of blue,
-      At last the features of her parent knew,
-    And summoning her breath and vocal pow’rs,
-      “Oh, mother!” she exclaimed--“Oh, is it true--
-    Our dear Lorenzo”--the dear name drew show’rs--
-    “_Ours_,” cried the mother, “pray don’t call him ours!”
-
-    “I never liked him, never, in my days!”
-      [“Oh yes--you did”--said Ellen with a sob,]
-    “There always _was_ a something in his ways--”
-      [“So sweet--so kind,” said Ellen, with a throb,]
-      “His very face was what I call a snob,
-    And, spite of West-end coats and pantaloons,
-      He had a sort of air of the swell mob;
-    I’m sure when he has come of afternoons
-    To tea, I’ve often thought--I’ll watch my spoons!”
-
-    “The spoons!” cried Ellen, almost with a scream,
-      “Oh cruel--false as cruel--and unjust!
-    He that once stood so high in your esteem!”
-      “He!” cried the dame, grimacing her disgust,
-      “I like him?--yes--as any body must
-    An infidel that scoffs at God and Devil:
-      Didn’t he bring you Bonaparty’s bust?
-    Lord! when he calls I hardly can be civil--
-    _My_ favourite was always Mr. Neville.
-
-    “Lorenzo?--I should like, of earthly things,
-      To see him hanging forty cubits high;
-    Doesn’t he write like Captain Rocks and Swings?
-      Nay, in this very letter bid you try
-      To make yourself particular, and tie
-    A tail on--a prodigious tail!--Oh, daughter!
-      And don’t he ask you down his area--fie!
-    And recommend to cut your being shorter,
-    With brick-bats round your neck in ponds of water?”
-
-    Alas! to think how readers thus may vary
-      A writer’s sense!--What mortal would have thought
-    Lorenzo’s hint about Professor Airy
-      And Pond to such a likeness could be brought!
-      Who would have dreamt the simple way he taught
-    To make a comet of poor Ellen’s moon,
-      Could furnish forth an image so distraught,
-    As Ellen, walking Regent Street at noon,
-    Tail’d--like a fat Cape sheep, or a racoon!
-
-[Illustration: “STICK AS YOU BE--THAT’S THE COMET.”]
-
-    And yet, whate’er absurdity the brains
-      May hatch, it ne’er wants wet-nurses to suckle it!
-    Or dry ones, like a hen, to take the pains
-      To lead the nudity abroad, and chuckle it;
-      No whim so stupid but some fool will buckle it
-    To jingle bell-like on his empty head,
-      No mental mud--but some will knead and knuckle it,
-    And fancy they are making fancy-bread;--
-    No ass has written, but some ass has read.
-
-    No dolts could lead if others did not follow ’em.
-      No Hahnémann could give decillionth drops,
-    If any man could not be got to swallow ’em;
-      But folly never comes to such full stops.
-      As soon, then, as the Mother made such swaps
-    Of all Lorenzo’s meanings, heads and tails,
-      The Father seized upon her malaprops--
-    “My girl down areas--of a night! ’Ods nails!
-    I’ll stick the scoundrel on his area-rails!”
-
-[Illustration: TAILS OF THE HAUL BY CRAB.]
-
-    “I will!--as sure as I was christen’d John!
-      A girl--well born--and bred,--and school’d at Ditton--
-    Accomplish’d--handsome--with a tail stuck on!
-    And chuck’d, Zounds! chuck’d in horseponds like a kitten
-      I wish I had been by when that was written!”--
-    And doubling to a fist each ample hand,
-      The empty air he boxed with, a-la-Bitton,
-    As if in training for a fight, long plann’d,
-    With Nobody--for love--at No Man’s Land!
-
-[Illustration: A FOWL WIND.]
-
-    “I’ll pond--I’ll tail him!”--In a voice of thunder
-      He recommenced his fury and his fuss,
-    Loud, open-mouth’d, and wedded to his blunder,
-      Like one of those great guns that end in buss.
-      “I’ll teach him to write ponds and tails to us!”
-    But while so menacing this-that-and-t’others,
-      His wife broke in with certain truths, as thus:
-    “Men are not women--fathers can’t be mothers,--
-    Females are females”--and a few such others.
-
-    So saying, with rough nudges, willy-nilly,
-      She hustled him outside the chamber-door,
-    Looking, it must be own’d, a little silly;
-      And then she did as the Carinthian boor
-      Serves (Goldsmith says) the traveller that’s poor!
-    _Id est_, she shut him in the outer space,
-      With just as much apology--no more--
-    As Boreas would present in such a case,
-      For slamming the street door right in your face.
-
-    And now, the secrets of the sex thus kept,
-      What passed in that important tête-à-tête
-    ’Twixt dam and daughter, nobody except
-      Paul Pry, or his Twin Brother, could narrate--
-      So turn we to Lorenzo, left of late,
-    In front of Mrs. Snelling’s sugar’d snacks,
-      In such a very waspish stinging state,
-    But now at the Old Dragon, stretch’d on racks,
-    Fretting, and biting down his nails to tacks;
-
-    Because that new fast four-inside--the Comet,
-      Instead of keeping its appointed time,
-    Had deviated some few minutes from it,
-      A thing with all astronomers a crime,
-      And he had studied in that lore sublime;
-    Nor did his heat get any less or shorter
-      For pouring upon passion’s unslaked lime
-    A well-grown glass of Cogniac and water,
-    Mix’d stiff as starch by the Old Dragon’s daughter.
-
-    At length, “Fair Ellen” sounding with a flourish,
-      The Comet came all bright, bran new, and smart:
-    Meanwhile the melody conspired to nourish
-      The hasty spirit in Lorenzo’s heart,
-      And soon upon the roof he “topped his part,”
-    Which never had a more impatient man on,
-      Wishing devoutly that the steeds would start
-    Like lightning greased,--or, as at Ballyshannon
-    Sublimed, “greased lightning shot out of a cannon.”
-
-    For, ever since the letter left his hand,
-      His mind had been in vacillating motion,
-    Dodge-dodging like a fluster’d crab on land,
-      That cannot ask its way, and has no notion
-      If right or left leads to the German Ocean--
-    Hatred and Love by turns enjoy’d monopolies,
-      Till, like a Doctor following his own potion,
-    Before a learned pig could spell Acropolis,
-    He went and booked himself for our metropolis.
-
-    “Oh, for a horse,” or rather four,--“with wings!”
-      For so he put the wish into the plural--
-    No relish he retained for country things,
-      He could not join felicity with rural,
-      His thoughts were all with London and the mural,
-    Where architects--not paupers--heap and _pile_ stones;
-      Or with the horses’ muscles, called the crural,
-    How fast they could macadamize the milestones
-    Which pass’d as tediously as gall or bile stones.
-
-    Blind to the picturesque, he ne’er perceived
-      In Nature one artistical fine stroke;
-    For instance, how that purple hill relieved
-      The beggar-woman in the gipsy-poke,
-      And how the red cow carried off her cloak;
-    Or how the aged horse, so gaunt and grey,
-      Threw off a noble mass of beech and oak!
-    Or, how the tinker’s ass, beside the way,
-    Came boldly out from a white cloud--to bray!
-
-    Such things have no delight for worried men,
-      That travel full of care and anxious smart:
-    Coachmen and horses, are your artists then:
-      Just try a team of draughtsmen with the Dart,
-      Take Shee, for instance, Etty, Jones, and Hart,
-    Let every neck be put into its noose,
-      Then tip ’em on the flank to make ’em start,
-    And see how they will draw!--Four screws let loose
-    Would make a difference--or I’m a goose!
-
-    Nor cared he more about the promised crops,
-      If oats were looking up, or wheat was laid,
-    For flies in turnip, or a blight in hops,
-      Or how the barley prosper’d or decay’d;
-      In short, no items of the farming trade.
-    Peas, beans, tares, ’taters, could his mind beguile;
-      Nor did he answer to the servant maid,
-    That always asked at every other mile,
-    “Where do we change, Sir?” with her sweetest smile.
-
-[Illustration: “LORD, JOHN, HERE’S A BURROW!”]
-
-    Nor more he listened to the Politician,
-      Who lectured on his left, a formal prig,
-    Of Belgium’s, Greece’s, Turkey’s sad condition,
-      Not worth a cheese, an olive, or a fig;
-      Nor yet unto the critic, fierce and big,
-    Who, holding forth, all lonely, in his glory,
-      Called one a sad bad Poet--and a Whig,
-    And one, a first-rate proser--and a Tory;
-    So critics judge, now, of a song or story.
-
-    Nay, when the coachman spoke about the ’Leger,
-      Of Popsy, Mopsy, Bergamotte, and Civet,
-    Of breeder, trainer, owner, backer, hedger,
-      And nags as right, or righter than a trivet,
-      The theme his crack’d attention could not rivet,
-    Though leaning forward to the man of whips,
-      He seem’d to give an ear,--but did not give it,
-    For Ellen’s moon (that saddest of her slips)
-    Would not be hidden by a “new Eclipse.”
-
-[Illustration: THE HEAD WAITER AT HATCHETT’S.]
-
-    If any thought e’er flitted in his head
-      Belonging to the sphere of Bland and Crocky,
-    It was to wish the team all thorough-bred,
-      And every buckle on their backs a jockey:
-      When spinning down a steep descent, or rocky,
-    He never watch’d the wheel, and long’d to lock it,
-      He liked the bolters that set off so cocky:
-    Nor did it shake a single nerve or shock it
-    Because the Comet raced against the Rocket.
-
-    Thanks to which rivalry, at last the journey
-      Finish’d an hour and a quarter under time,
-    Without a case for surgeon or attorney,
-      Just as St. James’s rang its seventh chime,
-    And now, descending from his seat sublime,
-      Behold Lorenzo, weariest of wights,
-      In that great core of brick, and stone, and lime,
-    Call’d England’s Heart--but which, as seen of nights,
-    Has rather more th’ appearance of its lights.
-
-[Illustration: FREE TRADE.]
-
-    Away he scudded--elbowing, perforce,
-      Thro’ cads, and lads, and many a Hebrew worrier,
-    With fruit, knives, pencils,--all dirt cheap of course,
-      Coachmen, and hawkers of the Globe and “Currier;”
-      Away!--the cookmaid is not such a skurrier,
-    When, fit to split her gingham as she goes,
-      With six just striking on the clock to hurry her,
-    She strides along with one of her three beaux,
-    To get well placed at “Ashley’s”--now Ducrow’s.
-
-    “I wonder if her moon is full to-night!”
-      He mutter’d, jealous as a Spanish Don,
-    When, lo!--to aggravate that inward spite,
-      In glancing at a board he spied thereon
-      A play-bill for dramatic folks to con,
-    In letters such as those may read, who run,
-      “‘KING JOHN’--oh yes,--I recollect King John!
-    ‘My Lord, they say five moons’--_five_ moons!--well done!
-    I wonder Ellen was content with one!
-
-    “Five moons--all full!--and all at once in heav’n!
-      She should have lived in that prolific reign!”
-    Here he arrived in front of number seven,
-      Th’ abode of all his joy and all his pain;
-      A sudden tremor shot through every vein,
-    He wish’d he’d come up by the heavy waggon,
-      And felt an impulse to turn back again,
-    Oh, that he ne’er had quitted the Old Dragon!
-    Then came a sort of longing for a flagon.
-
-    His tongue and palate seem’d so parch’d with drouth,--
-      The very knocker fill’d his soul with dread,
-    As if it had a living lion’s mouth,
-      With teeth so terrible, and tongue so red,
-      In which he had engaged to put his head,
-    The bell-pull turn’d his courage into vapour,
-      As though ’t would cause a shower-bath to shed
-    Its thousand shocks, to make him sigh and caper--
-    He look’d askance, and did not like the scraper.
-
-    “What business have I here? (he thought) a dunce
-      A hopeless passion thus to fan and foster,
-    Instead of putting out its wick at once;
-      She’s gone--it’s very evident I’ve lost her,--
-      And to the wanton wind I should have toss’d her--
-    Pish! I will leave her with her moon, at ease,
-      To toast and eat it, like a single Gloster,
-    Or cram some fool with it, as good green cheese,
-    Or make a honey-moon, if so she please.
-
-    “Yes--here I leave her,” and as thus he spoke,
-      He plied the knocker with such needless force,
-    It almost split the panel of sound oak;
-      And then he went as wildly through a course
-      Of ringing, till he made abrupt divorce
-    Between the bell and its dumfounded handle,
-      Whilst up ran Betty, out of breath and hoarse,
-    And thrust into his face her blown-out candle,
-    To recognise the author of such scandal.
-
-    Who, presto! cloak, and carpet-bag to boot,
-      Went stumbling, rumbling, up the dark one pair,
-    With other noise than his whose “very foot
-      Had music in’t as he came up the stair:”
-      And then with no more manners than a bear,
-    His hat upon his head, no matter how,
-      No modest tap his presence to declare,
-    He bolted in a room, without a bow,
-    And there sat Ellen, with a marble brow!
-
-    Like fond Medora, watching at her window,
-      Yet not of any Corsair bark in search--
-    The jutting lodging-house of Mrs. Lindo,
-      “The Cheapest House in Town” of Todd and Sturch.
-      The private house of Reverend Doctor Birch,
-    The public-house, closed nightly at eleven,
-      And then that house of prayer, the parish church,
-    Some roofs, and chimneys, and a glimpse of heaven,
-    Made up the whole look-out of Number Seven.
-
-[Illustration: “MEET ME BY MOONLIGHT ALONE.”]
-
-    Yet something in the prospect so absorbed her,
-      She seemed quite drowned and dozing in a dream;
-    As if her own belov’d full moon still orb’d her,
-      Lulling her fancy in some lunar scheme,
-      With lost Lorenzo, may be, for its theme--
-    Yet when Lorenzo touch’d her on the shoulder,
-      She started up with an abortive scream,
-    As if some midnight ghost, from regions colder,
-    Had come within his bony arms to fold her.
-
-    “Lorenzo!” “Ellen!” then came “Sir!” and “Madam!”
-      They tried to speak, but hammer’d at each word,
-    As if it were a flint for great Mac Adam:
-      Such broken English never else was heard,
-      For like an aspen leaf each nerve was stirr’d,
-    A chilly tremor thrill’d them through and through,
-      Their efforts to be stiff were quite absurd,
-    They shook like jellies made without a due
-    And proper share of common joiner’s glue.
-
-    “Ellen! I’m come--to bid you--fare--farewell!”
-      They thus began to fight their verbal duel;
-    “Since some more hap--hap--happy man must dwell--”
-      “Alas--Loren--Lorenzo!--cru--cru--cruel!”
-      For so they split their words like grits for gruel.
-    At last the Lover, as he long had plann’d,
-      Drew out that once inestimable jewel,
-    Her portrait, which was erst so fondly scann’d,
-    And thrust poor Ellen’s face into her hand.
-
-    “There--take it, Madam--take it back, I crave,
-      The face of one--but I must now forget her,
-    Bestow it on whatever hapless slave
-      Your art has last enticed into your fetter--
-      And there are your epistles--there! each letter!
-    I wish no record of your vow’s infractions,
-      Send them to South--or Children--you had better--
-    They will be novelties--rare benefactions!
-    To shine in Philosophical Transactions!
-
-    “Take them--pray take them--I resign them quite!
-      And there’s the glove you gave me leave to steal--
-    And there’s the handkerchief, so pure and white,
-      Once sanctified by tears, when Miss O’Neill--
-      But no--you did not--cannot--do not feel
-    A Juliet’s faith, that time could only harden!
-      Fool that I was, in my mistaken zeal!
-    I should have led you,--by your leave and pardon--
-    To Bartley’s Orrery, not Covent Garden!”
-
-[Illustration: “I RAN IT THRO’ E’EN FROM MY BOYISH DAYS.”]
-
-    “And here’s the birth-day ring--nor man nor devil
-      Should once have torn it from my living hand,
-    Perchance ’twill look as well on Mr. Neville;
-      And that--and that is all--and now I stand
-      Absolved of each dissever’d tie and band--
-    And so farewell, till Time’s eternal sickle
-      Shall reap our lives; in this, or foreign land
-    Some other may be found for truth to stickle
-    Almost as fair--and not so false and fickle!”
-
-    And there he ceased: as truly it was time,
-     For of the various themes that left his mouth,
-    One half surpass’d her intellectual climb:
-      She knew no more than the old Hill of Howth
-      About that “Children of a larger growth,”
-    Who notes proceedings of the F. R. S.’s;
-      Kit North, was just as strange to her as South,
-    Except the south the weathercock expresses,
-    Nay, Bartley’s Orrery defied her guesses.
-
-    Howbeit some notion of his jealous drift
-      She gather’d from the simple outward fact,
-    That her own lap contained each slighted gift;
-      Though quite unconscious of his cause to act
-      So like Othello, with his face unblack’d;
-    “Alas!” she sobbed, “your cruel course I see
-      These faded charms no longer can attract;
-    Your fancy palls, and you would wander free,
-    And lay your own apostacy on me!”
-
-    “_I_, false!--unjust Lorenzo!--and to _you_!
-      Oh, all ye holy gospels that incline
-    The soul to truth, bear witness I am true!
-      By all that lives, of earthly or divine--
-      So long as this poor throbbing heart is mine--
-    _I_ false!--the world shall change its course as soon!
-      True as the streamlet to the stars that shine--
-    True as the dial to the sun at noon,
-    True as the tide to ‘yonder blessed moon’!”
-
-    And as she spoke, she pointed through the window,
-      Somewhere above the houses’ distant tops,
-    Betwixt the chimney-pots of Mrs. Lindo,
-      And Todd and Sturch’s cheapest of all shops
-      For ribbons, laces, muslins, silks, and fops:--
-    Meanwhile, as she upraised her face so Grecian,
-      And eyes suffused with scintillating drops,
-    Lorenzo looked, too, o’er the blinds venetian,
-    To see the sphere so troubled with repletion.
-
-    “The Moon!” he cried, and an electric spasm
-      Seem’d all at once his features to distort,
-    And fix’d his mouth, a dumb and gaping chasm--
-      His faculties benumb’d and all amort--
-      At last his voice came, of most shrilly sort,
-    Just like a sea-gull’s wheeling round a rock--
-      “Speak!--Ellen!--is your sight indeed so short?
-    The Moon!--Brute! savage that I am, and block!
-    The Moon! (O, ye Romantics, what a shock!)
-    Why that’s the new Illuminated Clock!”
-
-[Illustration: ST. BLAISE.]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: “THOSE EVENING BELLS.”]
-
-
-
-
-THOSE EVENING BELLS.
-
-“I’D BE A PARODY.”
-
-
-    THOSE Evening Bells, those Evening Bells,
-    How many a tale their music tells,
-    Of Yorkshire cakes and crumpets prime,
-    And letters only just in time!--
-
-    The Muffin-boy has pass’d away,
-    The Postman gone--and I must pay,
-    For down below Deaf Mary dwells,
-    And does not hear those Evening Bells,
-
-    And so ’twill be when she is gone,
-    That tuneful peal will still ring on,
-    And other maids with timely yells
-    Forget to stay those Evening Bells.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: BALL-PRACTICE.]
-
-
-
-
-LINES
-
-TO A FRIEND AT COBHAM.
-
-
-    ’Tis pleasant, when we’ve absent friends,
-    Sometimes to hob and nob ’em
-    With Memory’s glass--at such a pass
-    Remember me at Cobham!
-
-    Have pigs you will, and sometimes kill,
-    But if you sigh and sob ’em,
-    And cannot eat your home-grown meat,
-    Remember me at Cobham!
-
-    Of hen and cock, you’ll have a stock,
-    And death will oft unthrob ’em,--
-    A country chick is good to pick--
-    Remember me at Cobham!
-
-    Some orchard trees of course you’ll lease
-    And boys will sometimes rob ’em,
-    A friend (you know) before a foe--
-    Remember me at Cobham!
-
-    You’ll sometimes have wax-lighted rooms,
-    And friends of course to mob ’em,
-    Should you be short of such a sort,
-    Remember me at Cobham!
-
-
-
-
-THE QUAKERS’ CONVERSAZIONE.
-
-    “Dost thou love silence, deep as that before the winds were made?
-    Go not into the wilderness; descend not into the profundities of
-    the earth; shut not up thy casements; nor pour wax into the cells
-    of thine ears, with little-faith’d, self-mistrusting Ulysses.
-    Retire with me into a Quakers’ Meeting.”--ESSAYS OF ELIA.
-
-
-IT may not, or rather it cannot, be generally known, that an attempt
-was made last winter, by certain influential members of the Society of
-Friends, to establish a Conversazione at Tottenham, a neighbourhood
-especially favoured by that respectable and substantial sect. The idea
-originated with a junior female branch of the opulent family of the
-Mumfords, which has been seated, time out of mind, in the vicinity
-of Bruce Castle; the notion was broached to a select few of the
-sisterhood, during a Sabbath walk homewards from the conventicle: the
-suggestion was relished; and a conference was called, at which the
-scheme was seriously brought forward, and gravely considered. At first
-there was a little boggling at the proposed title, as savouring, it was
-thought, of Loquacity; but the objection was dropped, on an explanation
-that although the word implied conversation, no one would be bidden to
-discourse against their own inclination; nay that, even amongst other
-persuasions, the conversazioni were frequently as distant as possible
-from a Negro “Talk,” or a Red Indian “Palaver.” This little demur
-excepted, the plan went on swimmingly, and was finally adopted with the
-subdued hum which, in that quiet-loving community, is equivalent to
-acclamations. A secretary was formally proposed, and tacitly chosen
-unanimously; being no other than the fair Foundress herself, the
-mild-spoken and meek-eyed Ruth Mumford. A few brief rules were then
-drawn up, and, after no debate, agreed to--some of them, considering
-the constitutional taciturnity of the sect, being sufficiently
-superfluous, as guarding against what Bubb Doddington called “a
-multiplicity of talk.” For instance, the 9th rule provided, that “no
-brother or sister should indulge in rambling irrelevant discourse,
-embracing a profusion of topics, wide of the matter in hand.” The
-10th, that “no two or more Friends should disburden themselves of
-speech at one and the same time;” and the 12th, that “no member of this
-society shall deliver himself or herself with unreasonable continuity,
-to the prevention of other Friends who might desire to speak to the
-matter.” From the list of subjects to be “spoken to” politics and
-polemics were excluded; but poetry was allowed, or at least connived
-at, the excellent example of Bernard Barton and the Howitts having
-happily relaxed the primitive rigour of that proscription. Besides,
-it was well known, between Friends, that several of the younger
-female members, the fair secretary included, occasionally struck, or
-rather, as Quakers ought not to strike anything, twanged the lyre.
-For the rest, the society was modelled after other private literary
-associations; it was to meet twice weekly, visiting the houses of the
-members in rotation, when original essays or papers were to be read,
-and afterwards discussed; provided always, that they afforded any
-Debateable Land to make a stand upon, seeing that at the end of the
-rules and regulations, a special article earnestly recommended, that in
-the selection of subjects all such topics should be avoided “as might
-lead to differences of opinion amongst the brethren.”
-
-Such was--for it is defunct--the Tottenham Friends’ Conversazione; of
-whose existence I became aware but by accident. It was my good fortune,
-till lately, to live next door to a family of Quakers, and to make
-acquaintance with the eldest daughter, a young lively maiden just
-wearing out the last of her teens. I am afraid in the austere brown
-eyes of her parents she was not strictly considered as the flower of
-their flock, being a sort of nonconformist among nonconformists, as
-was especially to be seen in comparing her with her younger sisters,
-who seemed to have been brought up, or stuck up, under the most
-starched discipline. Instead of their plain close caps,--mere casts of
-their skulls taken in muslin,--she wore an airy fanciful structure of
-blonde and white ribbon, that a Parisian woman might have put on--at
-least of a morning. In lieu of their sleek mohair braids, her auburn
-ringlets flowed down her neck in all the “Unloveliness of Love-locks.”
-To her star-like hazel eyes she allowed a little planetary liberty
-of circulation; whereas it seemed the object of the others, to keep
-their demure brown orbs as immoveable in their faces, as bad halfpence
-nailed to counters. Instead of screwing up her lips, as if she had
-just come, minus a masticator, out of Cartwright’s into an east wind,
-she sometimes gave her ivory teeth an airing, by smiling at some
-innocent fancy, to which she would give utterance, without trying
-to send her clear sweet voice, by a New North-West Passage, through
-her nose. As for her figure, it was none of those shapes which have
-no shape, and may be swaddled up without detriment in dingy drabs,
-olives, slates, and snuffy browns,--shapes which nature makes on her
-basin-pudding days, instead of using her best jelly-moulds--shapes
-like the bonnet-shapes which balance baskets of live mackerel. To
-see the symmetrical Rachel standing near either of her sisters, you
-would think you beheld (borrowing a local image) Tottenham High Cross,
-beside the Waithman Obelisk. Accordingly, the orthodox warp of her
-glossy satin was always _shot_ with a woof of some one of those gayer
-prismatic tints, to wear which is reckoned, among the severer Foxites,
-“a profanation of the Rainbow, deserving a second deluge.” As will
-be seen hereafter, she put a little blue into her superfine silken
-hose; sometimes I even fancied that I detected a tinge of the more
-fleshy pink--in short, she was a Quakeress, but not of the sad-brown
-sort--only a brunette.
-
-[Illustration: DISCOVERY OF ORGANIC REMAINS.]
-
-With the old Friends, her parents, I cannot boast that I was even on
-speaking terms; but with the lovely and lively Rachel my acquaintance
-had ripened even to the calling her by her Christian name; and the
-reciprocation of her thou and thee, to which I was led, not as a
-convertite, but from learning, in my French and German Grammars, that
-the use of the second person singular was an especial token of intimacy
-and affection. In this our neighbourly intercourse, a system of mutual
-accommodation sprang up between us, not by bills, but by books; for
-which she drew upon me by pretty little notes of hand, that I duly
-honoured, making them payable over the back garden wall. Drawings and
-pieces of new music were equally negotiable. If I remember rightly,
-it was in return for Moore’s Melodies--the exchange at the time being
-against me--that I received “Fox’s Martyrs.” It was rather a ponderous
-tome for a lover of light reading; and if St. Swithin’s Festival had
-not fallen on a very wet Sunday in the country, I might never have
-opened its leaves,--if indeed they did not open of themselves,--thus
-letting fall certain MSS. intrusted to their custody, and which I
-now proceed to make public. In a new edition of the “Curiosities of
-Literature” they would deserve a distinguished place.
-
-
-MINUTES OF THE TOTTENHAM FRIENDS’ CONVERSAZIONE;
-
-ESTABLISHED with a view to sober, Intellectual, and Literary
-unbendings. Now first held, namely, on the fourteenth day of the
-eleventh month, one thousand eight hundred thirty and four. Brother
-Mumford, the Father of the present humble Pen, in the chair.
-
-A most powerful and worthy setting forth, both in regard of numbers
-and our proceedings. Firstly, a word in season from Friend Oliver.
-Secondly, a draft of the rules. Thirdly, an opening poem; meditation
-thereon until the tenth hour, when our sitting was completed. Many
-congratulations between the brethren on the order, quiet, and decency
-thereof; myself as its humble founder, very joyously elevated--even
-unto the shedding of tears.
-
-17. Some awkwardness on this night, arising out of the presentation of
-nine several Negroes’ Complaints to be read forth. Precedence yielded
-unto Sister Skeldrum’s complaint, in respect of her being so ancient,
-namely three-score and ten. After which, Sister Panyer’s was gone
-through, detaining us nearhand until our hour of dissolution. Friend
-Black in the chair.
-
-21. The Negro Complaints resumed, whereof three more were gotten
-over, Sister Fagg kindly taking turn about with me in the deliverance
-thereof. Friend Thorne in the chair.
-
-24. A spare meeting. The Negro Complaints brought to an end, save one;
-Sister Rumble consenting, on much persuasion, to reserve the Sorrows of
-Sambo for the Abolition Anniversary. Friend Woolley in the chair.
-
-28. Friend Greathead read forth an original paper on the Manners of the
-Beavers. Much meditation thereon. Friend Stillfox in the chair.
-
-[Illustration: “BEAR ABOUT THE MOCKERY OF WOE.”]
-
-1-12. Friend Seagrave in the chair. Sister Meeking read forth her Essay
-on Silence, but in so humble a tone, that little thereof was taken
-inward at our ears. No debate thereon. Dorcas Fysche, a visitor, craved
-to know whether Friends, not being members, were permitted to speak on
-the subject, and was replied to in the affirmative. Whereupon she held
-her peace.
-
-5. Sister Knight read forth a self-composed addressing of herself unto
-Sleep. To which no objection was made by any present. Friend Knapp in
-the chair.
-
-8. On this night I plucked up courage, and essayed to read forth
-mine own Stanzas on Universal Love; but my voice failing me in the
-midst, it was completely finished for me by Friend Thicknesse, who did
-perversely continue to pronounce _Jews_ instead of _Dews_, whereof came
-absurdity. Above all in the line which singeth,--“Descend ye Dews on
-this my head.” And again,--“Ye painted Flies that suck the Dews.”
-
-12. No other member being prepared with originality, Sister Rumble read
-forth her Sorrows of Sambo. Much silent comment thereon. Brother Kersey
-in the chair, who shamefully suffered himself to be surprised with
-sleep.
-
-15. No lecturing, and, by course, no debate; only meditation. A
-call made to order against Friend Dilly, who was in the chair, for
-untimeliness in asking the price of Anglo-Mexicans at a quarter before
-ten.
-
-19. Sister Fetterlock being a visitor in expectancy, every one confined
-themselves unto Newgate. Several of the brethren declared their
-convictions. Friend Roper in the chair.
-
-22. No lecturing. Sister Rumble distributed Sambo’s Sorrows amongst us,
-one unto each; the which she had caused to be imprinted at her own risk
-and cost. Friend Boulter was the chair.
-
-26. No lecturing. It pleased our worthy Brother Upham, at his
-House of Welcome, to spread before us the creature comforts most
-abundantly, with a great out-pouring of the foreign luxury, which is
-called Champagne; the which was greatly discussed; and Brother Upham
-thereafter rebuked for the same, for that it was not of the kind which
-is still.
-
-29. Friend Stock read forth a narrative of his own Life and Personal
-Adventures, the which held us for half an hour. Some debate touching
-the imprinting of the same, at the cost of the Society, in the shape
-of a Tract; which was agreed to, but put off at the instance of Friend
-Stock himself, in order to give him time to live into the shape of a
-pamphlet. Friend Smallbones went through the chair.
-
-2-1-35. No assembly, by reason of the outrageous wind and hail,
-excepting Sister Rumble, with a new original poem, called “The Moral
-Gipsy.” The which she did read forth from the chair to my humble self
-and family, and our serving-man, Simon Dunny.
-
-[Illustration: HOPE DEFERRED.]
-
-5. Friend Broadbent read forth, in part, an Essay on Innocent
-Jocularity; the which, in sundry passages, provoked dissentients, as
-tending to a defence of levity. A stiff debate thereon, in which all
-the brethren were agreeable to censure. Great merriment at Friend
-Sexton in his rebuking, saying, “Christian gravy,” instead of gravity,
-by a slip of the tongue.
-
-9. The remains of Innocent Jocularity brought on again in a decidedly
-grave way, and nothing savouring of offensive. Followed with silence.
-
-12. There were not sufficient friends to make a sitting, and no chair.
-
-[Illustration: “IT CAN’T BE HELPED.”]
-
-16. At Sister Rumble’s by course of rotation. No other member present,
-save mine own self, as by duty bound. A deplorable falling away from
-the cause. Whereof more hereafter.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-The Record here breaks off. The society probably did not proceed
-farther, but died on the spot, of a complication of Innocent Jocularity
-and Sister Rumble, and was buried tacitly, with the fair Ruth Mumford
-for its chief mourner. The other papers are in verse, and a reading of
-them will certainly persuade the reviewers that they were premature
-in applying the designation of “Quaker Poetry” to foregone lays and
-lyrics. The first is a genuine brown study after nature; the second a
-hint how Peace ought _not_ to be proclaimed.
-
-
-SONNET.
-
-BY R. M.
-
-    HOW sweet thus clad, in Autumn’s mellow Tone,
-    With serious Eye, the russet Scene to view!
-    No Verdure decks the Forest, save alone
-    The sad green Holly, and the olive Yew.
-    The Skies, no longer of a garish Blue,
-    Subdued to Dove-like Tints, and soft as Wool,
-    Reflected show their slaty Shades anew
-    In the drab Waters of the clayey Pool.
-    Meanwhile yon Cottage Maiden wends to School,
-    In Garb of Chocolate so neatly drest,
-    And Bonnet puce, fit object for the Tool,
-    And chasten’d Pigments, of our Brother West;
-    Yea, all is silent, sober, calm, and cool,
-    Save gaudy Robin with his crimson Breast.
-
-
-LINES
-
-ON THE CELEBRATION OF PEACE.
-
-BY DORCAS DOVE.
-
-    AND is it thus ye welcome Peace,
-      From Mouths of forty-pounding Bores?
-    Oh cease, exploding Cannons, cease!
-      Lest Peace, affrighted, shun our shores!
-
-    Not so the quiet Queen should come;
-      But like a Nurse to still our Fears,
-    With Shoes of List, demurely dumb,
-      And Wool or Cotton in her Ears!
-
-    She asks for no triumphal Arch;
-      No Steeples for their ropy Tongues;
-    Down, Drumsticks, down, She needs no March,
-      Or blasted Trumps from brazen Lungs.
-
-    She wants no Noise of mobbing Throats
-      To tell that She is drawing nigh;
-    Why this Parade of scarlet Coats,
-      When War has closed his bloodshot Eye?
-
-    Returning to Domestic Loves,
-      When War has ceased with all its Ills,
-    Captains should come like sucking Doves,
-      With Olive Branches in their Bills.
-
-[Illustration: A GENERAL PEACE.]
-
-    No need there is of vulgar Shout,
-      Bells, Cannons, Trumpets, Fife, and Drum,
-    And Soldiers marching all about,
-      To let Us know that Peace is come.
-
-    Oh mild should be the Signs and meek,
-      Sweet Peace’s Advent to proclaim!
-    Silence her noiseless Foot should speak,
-      And Echo should repeat the same.
-
-    Lo! where the Soldier walks, alas!
-      With Scars received on Foreign Grounds;
-    Shall we consume in Coloured Glass
-      The Oil that should be pour’d in Wounds?
-
-    The bleeding Gaps of War to close,
-      Will whizzing Rocket-Flight avail?
-    Will Squibs enliven Orphans’ Woes?
-      Or Crackers cheer the Widow’s Tale?
-
-
-
-
-SKETCHES ON THE ROAD.
-
-
-THE MORNING CALL.
-
-I CANNOT conceive any prospect more agreeable to a weary traveller
-than the approach to _Bedfordshire_. Each valley reminds him of Sleepy
-Hollow, the fleecy clouds seem like blankets, the lakes and ponds are
-clean sheets; the setting sun looks like a warming-pan. He dreams of
-dreams to come. His travelling-cap transforms to a night-cap, the coach
-lining feels softlier squabbed; the guard’s horn plays “Lullaby.” Every
-flower by the road-side is a poppy. Each jolt of the coach is but a
-drowsy stumble up stairs. The lady opposite is the chamber-maid; the
-gentleman beside her is Boots. He slides into imaginary slippers; he
-winks and nods flirtingly at Sleep, so soon to be his own. Although the
-wheels may be rattling into vigilant Wakefield, it appears to him to be
-sleepy Ware, with its great Bed, a whole County of Down, spread “all
-before him where to choose his place of rest.”
-
-It was in a similar mood, after a long dusty droughty dog-day’s
-journey, that I entered the Dolphin, at Bedhampton. I nodded in at the
-door, winked at the lights, blinked at the company in the coffee-room,
-yawned for a glass of negus, swallowed it with my eyes shut, as though
-it had been “a pint of nappy,” surrendered my boots, clutched a
-candlestick, and blundered, slipshod, up the stairs to number nine.
-
-Blessed be the man, says Sancho Panza, who first invented sleep: and
-blessed be heaven that he did not take out a patent, and keep his
-discovery to himself. My clothes dropped off me: I saw through a drowsy
-haze the likeness of a four-poster: “Great Nature’s second course” was
-spread before me; and I fell to without a long grace!
-
-    Here’s a body--there’s a bed!
-    There’s a pillow--here’s a head!
-    There’s a curtain--here’s a light!
-    There’s a puff--and so Good Night!
-
-It would have been gross improvidence to waste more words on the
-occasion; for I was to be roused up again at four o’clock the next
-morning to proceed by the early coach. I determined, therefore, to do
-as much sleep within the interval as I could; and in a minute, short
-measure, I was with that mandarin, Morpheus, in his Land of Nod.
-
-How intensely we sleep when we are fatigued! Some as sound as tops,
-others as fast as churches. For my own part I must have slept as fast
-as a Cathedral,--as fast as Young Rapid wished his father to slumber:
-nay as fast as the French veteran who dreams over again the whole
-Russian campaign while dozing in his sentry-box. I must have slept as
-fast as a fast post-coach in my four-poster--or rather I must have
-slept “like winkin,” for I seemed hardly to have closed my eyes, when a
-voice cried “Sleep no more!”
-
-It was that of Boots, calling and knocking at the door, whilst through
-the keyhole a ray of candlelight darted into my chamber.
-
-“Who’s there?”
-
-“It’s me, your honour, I humbly ax pardon--but somehow I’ve oversleeped
-myself, and the coach be gone by!”
-
-“The devil it is!--then I have lost my place!”
-
-“No, not exactly, your honour. She stops a bit at the Dragon, t’other
-end o’ the town; and if your honour wouldn’t object to a bit of a run--”
-
-“That’s enough--come in. Put down the light--and take up that bag--my
-coat over your arm--and waistcoat with it--and that cravat.”
-
-Boots acted according to orders. I jumped out of bed--pocketed my
-nightcap--screwed on my stockings--plunged into my trowsers--rammed
-my feet into wrong right and left boots--tumbled down the back
-stairs--burst through a door, and found myself in the fresh air of
-the stable-yard, holding a lantern, which, in sheer haste, or spleen,
-I pitched into the horsepond. Then began the race, during which I
-completed my toilet, running and firing a verbal volley at Boots, as
-often as I could spare breath for one.
-
-“And you call this waking me up--for the coach. My waistcoat!--Why I
-could wake myself--too late--without being called. Now my cravat--and
-be hanged to you!--Confound that stone!--and give me my coat. A
-nice road--for a run!--I suppose you keep it--on purpose. How many
-gentlemen--may you do a week?--I’ll tell you what. If I--run--a
-foot--further--”
-
-I paused for wind; while Boots had stopped of his own accord. We
-had turned a corner into a small square; and on the opposite side,
-certainly stood an inn with the sign of the Dragon, but without
-any sign of a coach at the door. Boots stood beside me aghast, and
-surveying the house from the top to the bottom; not a wreath of smoke
-came from a chimney; the curtains were closed over every window,
-and the door was closed and shuttered. I could hardly contain my
-indignation when I looked at the infernal somnolent visage of the
-fellow, hardly yet broad awake--he kept rubbing his black-lead eyes
-with his hands, as if he would have rubbed them out.
-
-“Yes, you may well look--you have overslept yourself with a vengeance.
-The coach must have passed an hour ago--and they have all gone to bed
-again!”
-
-“No, there be no coach, sure enough,” soliloquised Boots, slowly
-raising his eyes from the road, where he had been searching for the
-track of recent wheels, and fixing them with a deprecating expression
-on my face. “No, there’s no coach--I ax a thousand pardons, your
-honour--but you see, Sir, what with waiting on her, and talking on her,
-and expecting on her, and giving notice on her, every night of my life,
-your honour--why I sometimes dreams on her--and that’s the case as is
-now!”
-
-[Illustration: “YOU’VE WAKED ME TOO SOON, I MUST SLUMBER AGAIN.”]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: A STUFFED BIRD.]
-
-
-
-
-THE LAMENT OF TOBY, THE LEARNED PIG.
-
-    “A little learning is a dangerous thing.”--POPE.
-
-
-    O HEAVY day! oh day of woe!
-      To misery a poster,
-    Why was I ever farrow’d--why
-      Not spitted for a roaster?
-
-    In this world, pigs, as well as men,
-      Must dance to fortune’s fiddlings,
-    But must I give the classics up,
-      For barley-meal and middlings?
-
-    Of what avail that I could spell
-      And read, just like my betters,
-    If I must come to this at last,
-      To litters, not to letters?
-
-    O, why are pigs made scholars of?
-      It baffles my discerning,
-    What griskins, fry, and chitterlings
-      Can have to do with learning.
-
-    Alas! my learning once drew cash,
-      But public fame’s unstable,
-    So I must turn a pig again,
-      And fatten for the table.
-
-    To leave my literary line
-      My eyes get red and leaky;
-    But Giblett doesn’t want me _blue_,
-      But red and white, and streaky
-
-    Old Mullins used to cultivate
-      My learning like a gard’ner;
-    But Giblett only thinks of lard,
-      And not of Doctor Lardner!
-
-    He does not care about my brain
-      The value of two coppers,
-    All that he thinks about my head
-      Is, how I’m off for choppers.
-
-    Of all my literary kin
-      A farewell must be taken,
-    Goodbye to the poetic Hogg!
-      The philosophic Bacon!
-
-    Day after day my lessons fade,
-      My intellect gets muddy;
-    A trough I have, and not a desk,
-      A sty--and not a study!
-
-    Another little month, and then
-      My progress ends like Bunyan’s;
-    The seven sages that I loved
-      Will be chopp’d up with onions!
-
-    Then over head and ears in brine
-      They’ll souse me, like a salmon,
-    My mathematics turned to brawn,
-      My logic into gammon.
-
-    My Hebrew will all retrograde,
-      Now I’m put up to fatten;
-    My Greek, it will all go to grease;
-      The Dogs will have my Latin!
-
-    Farewell to Oxford!--and to Bliss!
-      To Milman, Crowe, and Glossop,--
-    I now must be content with chats,
-      Instead of learned gossip!
-
-    Farewell to “Town!” farewell to “Gown!”
-      I’ve quite outgrown the latter,--
-    Instead of Trencher-cap my head
-      Will soon be in a platter!
-
-    O why did I at Brazen-Nose
-      Rout up the roots of knowledge?
-    A butcher that can’t read will kill
-      A pig that’s been to college!
-
-    For sorrow I could stick myself,
-      But conscience is a clasher;
-    A thing that would be rash in man,
-      In me would be a rasher!
-
-    One thing I ask when I am dead,
-      And past the Stygian ditches--
-    And that is, let my schoolmaster
-      Have one of my two flitches:
-
-    ’Twas he who taught my letters so
-      I ne’er mistook or miss’d ’em,
-    Simply by _ringing_ at the nose,
-      According to _Bell’s_ system.
-
-[Illustration: THE LEARNED PIG GROWN OUT OF KNOWLEDGE.]
-
-
-
-
-TO A BAD RIDER.
-
-
-I.
-
-    WHY, Mr. Rider, why
-      Your nag so ill indorse, man?
-    To make observers cry,
-      You’re mounted, but no horseman?
-
-
-II.
-
-    With elbows out so far,
-      This thought you can’t debar me--
-    Though no Dragoon-- Hussar--
-      You’re surely of the army!
-
-
-III.
-
-    I hope to turn M.P.
-      You have not any notion,
-    So awkward you would be
-      At “seconding a motion!”
-
-
-[Illustration: OUT AT ELBOWS.]
-
-
-
-
-MY SON AND HEIR.
-
-
-I.
-
-    MY mother bids me bind my heir,
-    But not the trade where I should bind;
-    To place a boy--the how and where--
-    It is the plague of parent-kind!
-
-
-II.
-
-    She does not hint the slightest plan,
-    Nor what indentures to endorse;
-    Whether to bind him to a man,--
-    Or, like Mazeppa, to a horse.
-
-[Illustration: SON AND HAIR.]
-
-
-III.
-
-    What line to choose of likely rise,
-    To something in the Stocks at last,--
-    “Fast bind, fast find,” the proverb cries,
-    I find I cannot bind so fast!
-
-
-IV.
-
-    A Statesman James can never be;
-    A Tailor?--there I only learn
-    His chief concern is cloth, and he
-    Is always cutting his concern.
-
-
-V.
-
-    A Seedsman?--I’d not have him so;
-    A Grocer’s plum might disappoint;
-    A Butcher?--no, not that--although
-    I hear “the times are out of joint!”
-
-
-VI.
-
-    Too many of all trades there be,
-    Like Pedlars, each has such a pack,
-    A merchant selling coals?--we see
-    The buyer send to cellar back.
-
-
-VII.
-
-    A Hardware dealer?--that might please,
-    But if his trade’s foundation leans
-    On spikes and nails, he won’t have ease
-    When he retires upon his means.
-
-
-VIII.
-
-    A Soldier?--there he has not nerves
-    A Sailor seldom lays up pelf:
-    A Baker?--no, a baker serves
-    His customer before himself.
-
-
-IX.
-
-    Dresser of hair?--that’s not the sort;
-    A joiner jars with his desire--
-    A Churchman?--James is very short,
-    And cannot to a church aspire.
-
-
-X.
-
-    A Lawyer?--that’s a hardish term!
-    A Publisher might give him ease,
-    If he could into Longman’s firm
-    Just plunge at once “in medias Rees.”
-
-
-XI.
-
-    A shop for pot, and pan, and cup,
-    Such brittle Stock I can’t advise;
-    A Builder running houses up,
-    Their gains are stories--may be lies!
-
-
-XII.
-
-    A Coppersmith I can’t endure--
-    Nor petty Usher A, B, C-ing;
-    A Publican no father sure,
-    Would be the author of his being!
-
-
-XIII.
-
-    A Paper-maker?--come he must
-    To rags before he sells a sheet--
-    A Miller?--all his toil is just
-    To make a meal--he does not eat.
-
-
-XIV.
-
-    A Currier?--that by favour goes--
-    A Chandler gives me great misgiving--
-    An Undertaker?--one of those
-    That do not hope to get their living!
-
-
-XV.
-
-    Three Golden Balls?--I like them not;
-    An Auctioneer I never did--
-    The victim of a slavish lot,
-    Obliged to do as he is bid!
-
-
-XVI.
-
-    A Broker watching fall and rise
-    Of Stock?--I’d rather deal in stone,--
-    A Printer?--there his toils comprise
-    Another’s work beside his own.
-
-
-XVII.
-
-    A Cooper?--neither I nor Jem
-    Have any taste or turn for that,--
-    A fish retailer?--but with him,
-    One part of trade is always flat.
-
-[Illustration: THE FAMILY LIBRARY.]
-
-
-XVIII.
-
-    A Painter?--long he would not live,--
-    An Artist’s a precarious craft--
-    In trade Apothecaries give,
-    But very seldom take, a draught.
-
-
-XIX.
-
-    A Glazier?--what if he should smash!
-    A Crispin he shall not be made--
-    A Grazier may be losing cash,
-    Although he drives “a roaring trade.”
-
-
-XX.
-
-    Well, something must be done! to look
-    On all my little works around--
-    James is too big a boy, like book,
-    To leave upon the shelf unbound.
-
-
-XXI.
-
-    But what to do?--my temples ache
-    From evening’s dew till morning’s pearl,
-    What course to take my boy to make--
-    Oh could I make my boy--a girl!
-
-[Illustration: SON AND SHADE.]
-
-
-
-
-LITERARY REMINISCENCES.
-
-No. IV.
-
-    “And are ye sure the news is true?
-    And are ye sure he’s weel?”--OLD SCOTCH SONG.
-
-
-THE great Doctor Johnson--himself a sufferer--has pathetically
-described, in an essay on the miseries of an infirm constitution, the
-melancholy case of an Invalid, with a willing mind in a weak body.
-“The time of such a man,” he says, “is spent in forming schemes which
-a change of wind prevents him from executing; his powers fume away in
-projects and in hope, and the day of action never arrives. He lies down
-delighted with the thoughts of to-morrow; but in the night the skies
-are overcast; the temper of the air is changed; he wakes in languor,
-impatience, and distraction; and has no longer any wish but for ease,
-nor any attention but for misery.” In short the Rambler describes the
-whole race of Valetudinarians as a sort of great Bitumen Company,
-paving a certain nameless place, as some of the Asphalticals have paved
-Oxford Street, with not very durable good intentions. In a word, your
-Invalid promises like a Hogamy, and performs like a Pigamy.
-
-To a hale hearty man, a perfect picture of health in an oaken frame,
-such abortions seem sufficiently unaccountable. A great hulking
-fellow, revelling as De Quincey used emphatically to say, “in rude
-BOVINE health,”--a voracious human animal, camel-stomached and
-iron-built, who could all but devour and digest himself like a Kilkenny
-cat,--can neither sympathise with nor understand those frequent
-failures and down-breakings which happen to beings not so fortunately
-gifted with indelicate constitutions. Such a half-horse half-alligator
-monster cannot judge, like a _Puny_ Judge, of a case of feebleness. The
-broad-chested cannot allow for the narrow-breasted; the robust for the
-no-bust. Nevertheless, even the stalwart may sometimes fall egregiously
-short of their own designs--as witness a case in point.
-
-Amongst my fellow passengers, on a late sea-voyage, there was one who
-attracted my especial attention. A glance at his face, another at his
-figure, a third at his costume, and a fourth at his paraphernalia,
-sufficed to detect his country: by his light hair, nubbly features,
-heavy frame, odd-coloured dressing-gown, and the national meerschaum
-and gaudy tobacco-bag, he was undeniably a German. But, besides
-the everlasting pipe, he was provided with a sketching apparatus,
-an ample note book, a gun, and a telescope; the whole being placed
-ready for immediate use. He had predetermined, no doubt, to record
-his German sentiments on first making acquaintance with the German
-Ocean; to sketch the picturesque craft he might encounter on its
-surface; to shoot his first sea-gull; and to catch a first glimpse of
-the shores of Albion, beyond the reach of the naked eye. But alas!
-all these intentions fell--if one may correctly say so with only
-sky and water--to the ground. He ate nothing--drank nothing--smoked
-nothing--drew nothing--wrote nothing--shot nothing--spied nothing--nay,
-he merely stared, but replied nothing to my friendly inquiry (I am ill
-at the German tongue and its pronunciation) “Wie befinden _sea sick_?”
-
-Now, my own case, gentle reader, has been precisely akin to that of our
-unfortunate Cousin German. Like him I have promised much, projected
-still more, and done little. Like him, too, I have been a sick man,
-though not at sea, but on shore--and in excuse of all that has been
-left undone, or delayed, with other Performers, when they do not
-perform, I must proffer the old theatrical plea of indisposition. As
-the Rambler describes, I have erected schemes which have been blown
-down by an _ill_ wind; I have formed plans, and been weather-beaten,
-like another Murphy, by a change in the weather. For instance, the
-Comic Annual for 1839 ought properly to have been published some forty
-days earlier; but was obliged, as it were, to perform quarantine, for
-want of a clean Bill of Health. Thus, too, the patron of the present
-Work who has taken the trouble to peruse certain chapters under the
-title of Literary Reminiscences, will doubtless have compared the tone
-of them with an Apology in Number Six, wherein, declining any attempt
-at an Auto-biography, a promise was made of giving such anecdotes as
-a bad memory and a bad hearing might have retained of my literary
-friends and acquaintance. Hitherto, however, the fragments in question
-have only presented desultory glimpses of a goose quill still in its
-green-gosling-hood, instead of any recollections of “celebrated pens.”
-The truth is that my malady forced me to temporise:--wherefore the
-kind reader will be pleased to consider the aforesaid chapters but as
-so many “false starts,” and that Memory has only now got away, to make
-play as well as she can.
-
-Whilst I am thus closeted in the Confessional, it may be as well, as
-the Pelican said, to make a clean breast of it, and at once plead
-guilty to all those counts--and some from long-standing have become
-very Old Bailey counts--that haunt my conscience. The most numerous
-of these crimes relate to letters that would not, could not, or at
-least did not answer. Others refer to the receipt of books, and as an
-example of their heinousness it misgives me that I was favoured with a
-little volume by W. and M. Howitt, without ever telling them _how-it_
-pleased me. A few offences, concern engagements which it was impossible
-to fulfil, although doubly bound by principle and interest. Seriously
-I have perforce been guilty of many, many, and still many sins of
-omission: but Hope, reviving with my strength, promises, granting me
-life, to redeem all such pledges. In the mean time, in extenuation,
-I can only plead particularly that deprecation which is offered up,
-in behalf of all Christian defaulters every Sunday,--“We have left
-undone those things which we ought to have done,--_And there is no_
-HEALTH _in us_.”
-
-It is pleasant after a match at Chess, particularly if we have won,
-to try back, and reconsider those important moves which have had a
-decisive influence on the result. It is still more interesting, in the
-game of Life, to recall the critical positions which have occurred
-during its progress, and review the false or judicious steps that have
-led to our subsequent good or ill fortune. There is, however, this
-difference, that chess is a matter of pure skill and calculation,
-whereas, the chequered board of human life is subject to the caprice
-of Chance--the event being sometimes determined by combinations which
-never entered into the mind of the player[4]. To such an accident it
-is perhaps attributable that the hand now tracing these reminiscences
-is holding a pen instead of an etching-point; jotting down these prose
-pleasures of memory, in lieu of furnishing articles “plated-on-steel,”
-for the pictorial periodicals.
-
-It will be remembered that my mental constitution, however weak my
-physical one, was proof against that type-us fever which parches most
-scribblers till they are set up, done up, and may-be, cut-up, in print
-and boards. Perhaps I had read, and trembled at the melancholy annals
-of those unfortunates who, rashly undertaking to write for bread,
-had poisoned themselves, like Chatterton, for want of it, or choked
-themselves, like Otway, on obtaining it. Possibly, having learned to
-think humbly of myself--there is nothing like early sickness and sorrow
-for “taking the conceit” out of one--my vanity did not presume to
-think, with certain juvenile Tracticians, that I “had a call” to hold
-forth in print for the edification of mankind. Perchance, the very
-deep reverence my reading had led me to entertain for our Bards and
-Sages, deterred me from thrusting myself into the fellowship of Beings
-that seemed only a little lower than the angels. However, in spite of
-that very common excuse for publication, “the advice of a friend,”
-who seriously recommended the submitting of my MSS. to a literary
-authority, with a view to his imprimatur, my slight acquaintance with
-the press was pushed no farther. On the contrary, I had selected a
-branch of the Fine Arts for my serious pursuit. Prudence, the daughter
-of Wisdom, whispering perhaps, that the engraver, Pye, had a better
-chance of a beefsteak inside, than Pye the Laureate; not that the
-verse-spinning was quite given up. Though working in _aqua fortis_,
-I still played with Castaly, now writing--all monkeys are imitators,
-and all young authors are monkeys--now writing a Bandit, to match
-the Corsair, and anon, hatching a Lalla Crow, by way of companion
-to Lalla Rookh. Moreover, about this time, I became a member of a
-private select Literary Society (alluded to at page 97 of the present
-work) that “waited on Ladies and Gentlemen at their own houses.” Our
-Minerva, allegorically speaking, was a motley personage, in blue
-stockings, a flounced gown, Quaker cap, and kerchief, French flowers,
-and a man’s hat. She held a fan in one hand, and a blowpipe in the
-other. Her votaries were of both sexes, old and young, married and
-single, assenters, dissenters, High Church, Low Church, No Church;
-Doctors in Physics, and Apothecaries in Metaphysics; dabblers in
-Logic, Chemistry, Casuistry, Sophistry, Natural and unnatural History,
-Phrenology, Geology, Conchology, Demonology; in short, all kinds of
-Colledgy-Knowledgy-Ology, including “Cakeology,” and tea and coffee.
-Like other Societies, we had our President--a sort of Speaker who
-never spoke; at least within my experience he never unbosomed himself
-of anything but a portentous shirt frill. According to the usual order
-of the entertainment, there was--first, Tea and Small Talk; secondly,
-an original Essay, which should have been followed, thirdly, by a
-Discussion, or Great Talk; but nine times in ten, it chanced, or
-rather mumchanced, that, between those who did not know what to think,
-and others, who did not know how to deliver what they thought, there
-ensued a dead silence, so “very dead indeed,” as Apollo Belvi says,
-that it seemed buried into the bargain. To make this awkward pause
-more awkward, some misgiving voice, between a whisper and a croak,
-would stammer out some allusion to a Quaker’s Meeting, answered from
-right to left by a running titter, the speaker having innocently, or
-perhaps wilfully forgotten, that one or two friends in drab coats, and
-as many in slate-coloured gowns, were sitting, thumb-twiddling, in the
-circle. Not that the Friends contented themselves with playing _dumby_
-at our discussions. They often spoke, and very characteristically,
-to the matter in hand. For instance, their favourite doctrine of
-non-resistance was once pushed--if Quakers ever push--a little “beyond
-beyond.” By way of clencher, one fair, meek, sleek Quakeress, in dove
-colour, gravely told a melodramatical story of a conscientious Friend,
-who rather than lift even his little finger against a Foe, passively,
-yea, lamblike, suffered himself to be butchered in bed by an assassin,
-and died consistently, as he thought, with Fox principles, very like a
-Goose. As regards my own share in the Essays and Arguments, it misgives
-me that they no more satisfied our decidedly serious members, than
-they now propitiate Mr. Rae Wilson. At least, one Society night, in
-escorting a female Fellow towards her home, she suddenly stopped me,
-taking advantage perhaps of the awful locality, and its associations,
-just in front of our chief criminal prison, and looking earnestly in my
-face, by the light of a Newgate lamp, inquired somewhat abruptly, “Mr.
-Hood! are you not an Infidel[5]?”
-
-In the mean time, whilst thus playing at Literature, an event was
-ripening which was to introduce me to Authorship in earnest, and make
-the Muse, with whom I had only flirted, my companion for life. It
-had often occurred to me that a striking, romantical, necromantical,
-metaphysical, melodramatical, Germanish story, might be composed, the
-interest of which should turn on the mysterious influence of the fate
-of A over the destiny of B, the said parties having no more natural
-or apparent connexion with each other than Tenterden Steeple and the
-Goodwin Sands. An instance of this occult contingency occurred in my
-own case; for I did not even know by sight the unfortunate gentleman
-on whose untimely exit depended my entrance on the literary stage.
-In the beginning of the year 1821, a memorable duel, originating in
-a pen-and-ink quarrel, took place at Chalk Farm, and terminated in
-the death of Mr. John Scott, the able Editor of the London Magazine.
-The melancholy result excited great interest, in which I fully
-participated, little dreaming that his catastrophe involved any
-consequences of importance to myself. But on the loss of its conductor,
-the Periodical passed into other hands. The new Proprietors were my
-friends; they sent for me, and after some preliminaries, I was duly
-installed as a sort of sub-Editor of the London Magazine.
-
-It would be affectation to say, that engraving was resigned with
-regret. There is always something mechanical about the art--moreover
-it is as unwholesome as wearisome to sit copper-fastened to a board,
-with a cantle scooped out to accommodate your stomach, if you have one,
-painfully ruling, ruling, and still ruling lines straight or crooked,
-by the long hundred to the square inch, at the doubly hazardous risk
-which Wordsworth so deprecates, of “growing double.” So farewell
-Woollett! Strange! Bartolozzi! I have said, my vanity did not rashly
-plunge me into authorship; but no sooner was there a legitimate opening
-than I jumped at it, à la Grimaldi, head foremost, and was speedily
-behind the scenes.
-
-To judge by my zeal and delight in my new pursuit, the bowl had at
-last found its natural bias[6]. Not content with taking articles,
-like candidates for holy orders--with rejecting articles like the
-Belgians--I dreamt articles, thought articles, wrote articles, which
-were all inserted by the editor, of course, with the concurrence of his
-deputy. The more irksome parts of authorship, such as the correction
-of the press, were to me labours of love. I received a revise from Mr.
-Baldwin’s Mr. Parker, as if it had been a proof of his regard; forgave
-him all his slips, and really thought that printers’ devils were not
-so black as they are painted. But my top-gallant glory was in “our
-Contributors!” How I used to look forward to Elia! and backward for
-Hazlitt, and all round for Edward Herbert, and how I used to _look
-up_ to Allan Cunningham! for at that time the London had a goodly
-list of writers--a rare company. It is now defunct, and perhaps no
-ex-periodical might so appropriately be apostrophized with the Irish
-funereal question--“Arrah, honey, why did you die?” Had you not an
-editor, and elegant prose writers, and beautiful poets, and broths
-of boys for criticism and classics, and wits and humorists.--Elia,
-Cary, Procter, Cunningham, Bowring, Barton, Hazlitt, Elton, Hartley
-Coleridge, Talfourd, Soane, Horace Smith, Reynolds, Poole, Clare, and
-Thomas Benyon, with a power besides. Hadn’t you Lions’ Heads with
-Traditional Tales? Hadn’t you an Opium Eater, and a Dwarf, and a Giant,
-and a Learned Lamb, and a Green Man? Had not you a regular Drama, and
-a Musical Report, and a Report of Agriculture, and an Obituary, and
-a Price Current, and a current price, of only half-a-crown? Arrah,
-why did you die? Why, somehow the contributors fell away--the concern
-went into other hands--worst of all, a new editor tried to put the
-Belles Lettres in Utilitarian envelopes; whereupon, the circulation
-of the Miscellany, like that of poor Le Fevre, got slower, slower,
-slower,--and slower still--and then stopped for ever! It was a sorry
-scattering of those old Londoners! Some went out of the country: one
-(Clare) went into it. Lamb retreated to Colebrooke. Mr. Cary presented
-himself to the British Museum. Reynolds and Barry took to engrossing
-when they should pen a stanza, and Thomas Benyon gave up literature.
-
-It is with mingled feelings of pride, pleasure, and pain, that I revert
-to those old times, when the writers I had long known and admired
-in spirit were present to me in the flesh--when I had the delight
-of listening to their wit and wisdom from their own lips, of gazing
-on their faces, and grasping their right hands. Familiar figures
-rise before me, familiar voices ring in my ears, and alas! amongst
-them are shapes that I must never see, sounds that I can never hear,
-again. Before my departure from England, I was one of the few who
-saw the grave close over the remains of one whom to know as a friend
-was to love as a relation. Never did a better soul go to a better
-world! Never perhaps (giving the lie direct to the common imputation
-of envy, malice, and hatred, amongst the brotherhood), never did
-an author descend--to quote his favourite Sir T. Browne--into “the
-land of the mole and the pismire” so hung with golden opinions, and
-honoured and regretted with such sincere eulogies and elegies, by his
-contemporaries. To HIM, the first of these, my reminiscences,
-is eminently due, for I lost in him not only a dear and kind friend,
-but an invaluable critic; one whom, were such literary adoptions in
-modern use, I might well name, as Cotton called Walton, my “father.” To
-borrow the earnest language of old Jean Bertaut, as Englished by Mr.
-Cary--
-
-    “Thou, chiefly, noble spirit, for whose loss
-    Just grief and mourning all our hearts engross,
-    Who seeing me devoted to the Nine,
-    Didst hope some fruitage from those buds of mine;
-    Thou didst excite me after thee t’ascend
-    The Muses’ sacred hill; nor only lend
-    Example, but inspirit me to reach
-    The far-off summit by thy friendly speech.
-
-           *       *       *       *       *
-
-    May gracious Heaven, O honour of our age!
-    Make the conclusion answer thy presage,
-    Nor let it only for vain fortune stand,
-    _That I have seen thy visage--touch’d thy hand_!”
-
-I was sitting one morning beside our Editor, busily correcting
-proofs, when a visitor was announced, whose name, grumbled by a low
-ventriloquial voice, like Tom Pipes calling from the hold through the
-hatchway, did not resound distinctly on my tympanum. However, the door
-opened, and in came a stranger,--a figure remarkable at a glance, with
-a fine head, on a small spare body, supported by two almost immaterial
-legs. He was clothed in sables, of a bygone fashion, but there was
-something wanting, or something present about him, that certified he
-was neither a divine, nor a physician, nor a schoolmaster: from a
-certain neatness and sobriety in his dress, coupled with his sedate
-bearing, he might have been taken, but that such a costume would be
-anomalous, for a _Quaker_ in black. He looked still more like (what
-he really was) a literary Modern Antique, a New-Old Author, a living
-Anachronism, contemporary at once with Burton the Elder, and Colman
-the Younger. Meanwhile he advanced with rather a peculiar gait, his
-walk was plantigrade, and with a cheerful “How d’ye,” and one of the
-blandest, sweetest smiles that ever brightened a manly countenance,
-held out two fingers to the Editor. The two gentlemen in black soon
-fell into discourse; and whilst they conferred, the Lavater principle
-within me, set to work upon the interesting specimen thus presented to
-its speculations. It was a striking intellectual face, full of wiry
-lines, physiognomical quips and cranks, that gave it great character.
-There was much earnestness about the brows, and a deal of speculation
-in the eyes, which were brown and bright, and “quick in turning;” the
-nose, a decided one, though of no established order; and there was
-a handsome smartness about the mouth. Altogether it was no common
-face--none of those _willow-pattern_ ones, which Nature turns out by
-thousands at her potteries;--but more like a chance specimen of the
-Chinese ware, one to the set--unique, antique, quaint. No one who had
-once seen it, could pretend not to know it again. It was no face to
-lend its countenance to any confusion of persons in a Comedy of Errors.
-You might have sworn to it piecemeal,--a separate affidavit for every
-feature. In short his face was as original as his figure; his figure
-as his character; his character as his writings; his writings the most
-original of the age. After the literary business had been settled,
-the Editor invited his contributor to dinner, adding “we shall have a
-hare--”
-
-    “And--and--and--and many Friends!”
-
-The hesitation in the speech, and the readiness of the illusion,
-were alike characteristic of the individual, whom his familiars will
-perchance have recognised already as the delightful Essayist, the
-capital Critic, the pleasant Wit and Humorist, the delicate-minded and
-large-hearted Charles Lamb! He was shy like myself with strangers,
-so that, despite my yearnings, our first meeting scarcely amounted
-to an introduction. We were both at dinner, amongst the hare’s many
-friends, but our acquaintance got no farther, in spite of a desperate
-attempt on my part to attract his notice. His complaint of the Decay
-of Beggars presented another chance: I wrote on coarse paper, and
-in ragged English, a letter of thanks to him as if from one of his
-mendicant clients, but it produced no effect. I had given up all hope,
-when one night, sitting sick and sad, in my bed-room, racked with the
-rheumatism, the door was suddenly opened, the well-known quaint figure
-in black walked in without any formality, and with a cheerful “Well,
-boy, how are you?” and the bland sweet smile, extended the two fingers.
-They were eagerly clutched of course, and from that hour we were firm
-friends.
-
-Thus characteristically commenced my intimacy with C. Lamb. He had
-recently become my neighbour, and in a few days called again, to
-ask me to tea, “to meet Wordsworth.” In spite of any idle jests to
-the contrary, the name had a spell in it that drew me to Colebrooke
-Cottage[7] with more alacrity[8] than consisted with prudence, stiff
-joints and a North wind. But I was willing to run, at least hobble,
-some risk, to be of a party in a parlour with the Author of Laodamia
-and Hartleap Well. As for his Betty Foy-bles, he is not the first
-man by many, who has met with a _simple_ fracture through riding his
-theory-hack so far and so fast, that it broke down with him. If he has
-now and then put on a nightcap, so have his own next-door mountains.
-If he has babbled, sometimes, like an infant of _two_ years old, he
-has also thought, and felt, and spoken, the beautiful fancies and
-tender affections, and artless language, of the children who can say
-“We are _seven_.” Along with food for babes, he has furnished strong
-meat for men. So I put on my great coat and in a few minutes found
-myself, for the first time at a door, that opened to me as frankly as
-its master’s heart; for, without any preliminaries of hall, passage,
-or parlour, one single step across the threshold brought me into the
-sitting-room, and in sight of the domestic hearth. The room looked
-brown with “old bokes,” and beside the fire sate Wordsworth, and his
-sister, the hospitable Elia, and the excellent Bridget. As for the bard
-of Rydal, his outward man did not, perhaps, disappoint one; but the
-_palaver_, as the Indians say, fell short of my anticipations. Perhaps
-my memory is in fault; ’twas many years ago, and, unlike the biographer
-of Johnson, I have never made Bozziness my business. However, excepting
-a discussion on the value of the promissory notes issued by our younger
-poets, wherein Wordsworth named Shelley, and Lamb took John Keats for
-choice, there was nothing of literary interest brought upon the carpet.
-But a book man cannot always be bookish. A poet, even a Rydal one,
-must be glad at times to descend from Saddleback, and feel his legs.
-He cannot, like the Girl in the Fairy Tale, be always talking diamonds
-and pearls. It is a “Vulgar Errour” to suppose that an author must
-be always authoring, even with his feet on the fender. Nevertheless,
-it is not an uncommon impression, that a writer sonnetises his wife,
-sings odes to his children, talks essays and epigrams to his friends,
-and reviews his servants. It was in something of this spirit that an
-official gentleman to whom I mentioned the pleasant literary meetings
-at Lamb’s, associated them instantly with his parochial mutual
-instruction evening schools, and remarked, “Yes, yes, all very proper
-and praiseworthy--of course, you go there _to improve your minds_.”
-
-And very pleasant and improving, though not of set purpose, to both
-mind and heart, were those extempore assemblies at Colebrooke Cottage.
-It was wholesome for the soul but to breathe its atmosphere. It was
-a House of Call for All Denominations. _Sides_ were lost in that
-_circle_, Men of all parties postponed their partisanship, and met
-as on a neutral ground. There were but two persons, whom L. avowedly
-did not wish to encounter beneath his roof, and those two, merely on
-account of private and family differences. For the rest, they left all
-their hostilities at the door, with their sticks. This forbearance was
-due to the truly tolerant spirit of the Host, which influenced all
-within its sphere. Lamb, whilst he willingly lent a crutch to halting
-Humility, took delight in tripping up the stilts of Pretension. Anybody
-might trot out his Hobby; but he allowed nobody to ride the High Horse.
-If it was a High German, one like those ridden by the Devil and Doctor
-Faustus, he would chaunt
-
-    “Gëuty Gëuty
-    Is a great Beauty,”
-
-till the rider moderated his gallop. He hated anything like
-Cock-of-the-Walk-ism; and set his face and his wit against all
-Ultraism, Transcendentalism, Sentimentalism, Conventional Mannerism,
-and above all, Separatism. In opposition to the Exclusives, he was
-emphatically an Inclusive.
-
-As he once owned to me, he was fond of antagonising. Indeed in the
-sketch of himself, prefacing the Last Essays of Elia--a sketch for its
-truth to have delighted Mason the Self-Knowledge man--he says, “with
-the Religionist I pass for a Free-thinker, while the other faction set
-me down for a Bigot.” In fact, no politician ever laboured more to
-preserve the Balance of Power in Europe, than he did to correct any
-temporary preponderances. He was always _trimming_ in the nautical,
-not in the political, sense. Thus in his “magnanimous letter,” as
-Hazlitt called it, to High Church Southey, he professed himself a
-Unitarian[9]. With a Catholic he would probably have called himself
-a Jew; as amongst Quakers, by way of a set-off against their own
-formality, he would indulge in a little extra levity. I well remember
-his chuckling at having spirited on his correspondent Bernard Barton,
-to commit some little enormities, such as addressing him as C. Lamb,
-_Esquire_.
-
-My visits at Lamb’s were shortly interrupted by a sojourn to
-unrheumatize myself at Hastings; but in default of other intercourse
-I received a letter in a well-known hand, quaint as the sentences it
-conveyed.
-
-    “And what dost thou at the Priory? Cucullus non facit Monachum.
-    English me that, and challenge old Lignum Janua to make a better.
-
-    “My old New River has presented no extraordinary novelties lately.
-    But there hope sits day after day speculating upon traditionary
-    gudgeons. I think she has taken the fisheries. I now know the
-    reason why our forefathers were denominated East and West Angles.
-    Yet is there no lack of spawn, for I wash my hands in fishets that
-    come through the pump every morning, thick as motelings--little
-    things that perish untimely, and never taste the brook. You do
-    not tell me of those romantic Land Bays that be as thou goest to
-    Lovers’ Seat, neither of that little Churchling in the midst of a
-    wood (in the opposite direction nine furlongs from the town), that
-    seems dropt by the Angel that was tired of carrying two packages;
-    marry, with the other he made shift to pick his flight to Loretto.
-    Inquire out and see my little Protestant Loretto. It stands apart
-    from trace of human habitation, yet hath it pulpit, reading-desk,
-    and trim front of massiest marble, as if Robinson Crusoe had
-    reared it to soothe himself with old church-going images. I forget
-    its Xtian name, and what She Saint was its gossip.
-
-    “You should also go to No. 13, Standgate Street, a Baker, who has
-    the finest collection of marine monsters in ten sea counties;
-    sea-dragons, polypi, mer-people, most fantastic. You have only to
-    name the old Gentleman in black (not the Devil), that lodged with
-    him a week (he’ll remember) last July, and he will show courtesy.
-    He is by far the foremost of the Savans. His wife is the funniest
-    thwarting little animal! They are decidedly the Lions of green
-    Hastings. Well, I have made an end of my say;--my epistolary time
-    is gone by when I could have scribbled as long (I will not say as
-    agreeable) as thine was to both of us. I am dwindled to notes and
-    letterets. But in good earnest I shall be most happy to hail thy
-    return to the waters of old Sir Hugh. There is nothing like inland
-    murmurs, fresh ripples, and our native minnows.
-
-        “He sang in meads how sweet the brooklets ran,
-        To the rough ocean and red restless sands.
-
-    I design to give up smoking; but I have not yet fixed upon the
-    equivalent vice. I must have quid pro quo, or quo pro _quid_, as
-    Tom Woodgate would correct me. My service to him.
-
-    “C. L.”
-
-The letter came to hand too late for me to hunt the “Lions;” but on
-a subsequent visit to the same Cinque Port with my wife, though we
-verified the little Loretto, we could not find the Baker, or even his
-man, howbeit we tried at every shop that had the least sign of bakery
-or cakery in its window. The whole was a batch of _fancy_ bread; one of
-those fictions which the writer was apt to pass off upon his friends.
-
-The evening meetings at Colebrooke Cottage--where somebody, who _was_
-somebody, or a literary friend, was sure to drop in--were the more
-grateful to me, as the London Magazine was now in a rapid decline;
-some of its crack contributors had left it off, and the gatherings of
-the clan to eat, drink, and be merry, were few and far between. There
-was indeed one Venison Feast whereat, I have heard, the scent lay more
-than breast high, and the sport was of as rich a quality; but it was my
-chance to be absent from the pack. At former dinners, however, I had
-been a guest, and a sketch of one of them may serve to introduce some
-of the principal characters of our “London in the Olden Time.”
-
-On the right hand then of the Editor sits Elia, of the pleasant smile,
-and the quick eyes--Procter said of them that “they looked as if they
-could pick up pins and needles”--and a wit as quick as his eyes, and
-sure, as Hazlitt described, to stammer out the best pun and the best
-remark in the course of the evening. Next to him, shining verdantly out
-from the grave-coloured suits of the literati, like a patch of turnips
-amidst stubble and fallow, behold our Jack i’ the Green--John Clare!
-In his bright, grass-coloured coat, and yellow waistcoat (there are
-greenish stalks too, under the table), he looks a very Cowslip, and
-blooms amongst us as Goldsmith must have done in his peach-blossom.
-No wonder the door-keeper of the Soho Bazaar, seeing that _very
-countrified_ suit, linked arm-in-arm with the Editorial sables, made a
-boggle at admitting them into his repository, having seen, perchance,
-such a made-up Peasant “playing at playing” at thimble-rig about the
-Square. No wonder the gentleman’s gentleman, in the drab-coat and
-sealing-wax smalls, at W---- ’s, was for cutting off our Green Man,
-who was modestly the last in ascending the stairs as an interloper,
-though he made amends afterwards by waiting almost exclusively on the
-Peasant, perfectly convinced that he was some eccentric Notable of the
-Corinthian order, disguised in Rustic. Little wonder either, that in
-wending homewards on the same occasion through the Strand, the Peasant
-and Elia, _Sylvanus et Urban_, linked comfortably together; there arose
-the frequent cry of “Look at Tom and Jerry--there goes Tom and Jerry!”
-for truly, Clare in his square-cut green coat, and Lamb in his black,
-were not a little suggestive of Hawthorn and Logic, in the plates to
-“Life in London.”
-
-But to return to the table. Elia--much more of House Lamb than of
-Grass Lamb--avowedly caring little or nothing for Pastoral; cottons,
-nevertheless, very kindly to the Northamptonshire Poet, and still
-more to his ale, pledging him again and again as “Clarissimus,”
-and “Princely Clare,” and sometimes so lustily, as to make the
-latter cast an anxious glance into his tankard. By his bright happy
-look, the Helpstone Visitor is inwardly contrasting the unlettered
-country company of Clod, and Hodge and Podge, with the delights of
-“London” society Elia, and Barry, and Herbert, and Mr. Table Talk,
-_cum multis_--_aliis_--i.e. a multiplicity of all. But besides the
-tankard, the two “drouthie neebors” discuss Poetry in general[10], and
-Montgomery’s “Common Lot” in particular, Lamb insisting on the beauty
-of the tangental sharp turn at “O! she was fair!” thinking, mayhap, of
-his own Alice W----, and Clare swearing “Dal” (a clarified d--n) “Dal!
-if it isn’t like a Dead Man preaching out of his coffin!” Anon, the
-Humorist begins to banter the Peasant on certain “Clare-obscurities” in
-his own verses, originating in a contempt for the rules of Priscian,
-whereupon the accused, thinking with Burns,
-
-    “What ser’es their grammars?
-    They’d better ta’en up spades and shools,
-    Or knappin hammers,”
-
-vehemently denounces all Philology as nothing but a sort of man-trap
-for authors, and heartily dals Lindley Murray for “inventing it!”
-
-It must have been at such a time, that Hilton _conceived_ his clever
-portrait of C----, when he was “C in alt.” He was hardy, rough, and
-clumsy enough to look truly rustic--like an Ingram’s rustic chair.
-There was a slightness about his frame, with a delicacy of features
-and complexion, that associated him more with the Garden than with the
-Field, and made him look the Peasant of a Ferme Ornée. In this respect
-he was as much beneath the genuine stalwart bronzed Plough-Poet,
-Burns, as above the Farmer’s Boy, whom I remember to have seen in my
-childhood, when he lived in a miniature house, near the Shepherd and
-Shepherdess, now the Eagle tavern, in the City Road, and manufactured
-Æolian harps, and kept ducks. The Suffolk Giles had very little of
-the agricultural in his appearance; he looked infinitely more like a
-handicraftsman, _town-made_.
-
-Poor Clare!--It would greatly please me to hear that he was happy and
-well, and thriving; but the transplanting of Peasants and Farmers’ Boys
-from the natural into an artificial soil, does not always conduce to
-their happiness, or health, or ultimate well doing. I trust the true
-Friends, who, with a natural hankering after poetry, because it is
-forbidden them, have ventured to pluck and eat of the pastoral sorts,
-as most dallying with the innocence of nature,--and who on that account
-patronised Capel Lofft’s protégé--I do trust and hope they took off
-whole editions of the Northamptonshire Bard. There was much about Clare
-for a Quaker to like; he was tender-hearted, and averse to violence.
-How he recoiled once, bodily-taking his chair along with him,--from a
-young surgeon, or surgeon’s friend, who let drop, somewhat abruptly,
-that he was just come “from seeing a child skinned!”--Clare, from his
-look of horror, evidently thought that the poor infant, like Marsyas,
-had been flayed _alive_! He was both gentle and simple. I have heard
-that on his first visit to London, his publishers considerately sent
-their porter to meet him at the inn; but when Thomas necessarily
-inquired of the gentleman in green, “Are you Mr. Clare?” the latter,
-willing to foil the traditionary tricks of London sharpers, replied to
-the suspicious query with “a positive negative.”[11]
-
-The Brobdignagian next to Clare, overtopping him by the whole head and
-shoulders--a physical “Colossus of Literature,” the grenadier of our
-corps--is Allan, not Allan Ramsay, “no, nor Barbara Allan neither,”
-but Allan Cunningham,--“a credit,” quoth Sir Walter Scott (he might
-have said a long credit) “to Caledonia.” He is often called “honest
-Allan,” to distinguish him, perhaps, from one Allan-a-Dale, who was
-apt to mistake his neighbours’ goods for his own--sometimes, between
-ourselves, yelept the “C. of Solway,” in allusion to that favourite
-“Allan Water,” the Solway Sea. There is something of the true moody
-poetical weather observable in the barometer of his face, alternating
-from Variable to Showery, from Stormy to Set Fair. At times he looks
-gloomy and earnest and traditional--a little like a Covenanter--but he
-suddenly clears up and laughs a hearty laugh that lifts him an inch or
-two from his chair, for he rises at a joke when he sees one, like a
-trout at a fly, and finishes with a smart rubbing of his ample palms.
-He has store, too, of broad Scotch stories, and shrewd sayings; and
-he writes--no, he wrote rare old-new or new-old ballads. Why not now?
-Has his Pegasus, as he once related of his pony, run from under him?
-Has the Mermaid of Galloway left no little ones? Is Bonnie Lady Ann
-married, or May Morison dead? Thou vast formed for a poet, Allan, by
-nature, and by stature too, according to Pope--
-
-    “To snatch a grace _beyond the reach_ of Art.”
-
-And are there not Longman, or Tallboys, for thy Publishers? But alas!
-we are fallen on evil days for Bards and Barding, and nine tailors
-do more for a man than the Nine Muses. The only Lay likely to answer
-now-a-days would be an Ode (with the proper testimonials) to the
-Literary Fund!
-
-The Reverend personage on the Editor’s right, with the studious brow,
-deep-set eyes, and bald crown, is the mild and modest Cary--the same
-who turned Dante into Miltonic English blank verse. He is sending
-his plate towards the partridges, which he will relish and digest as
-though they were the Birds of Aristophanes. He has his eye, too, on
-the French made-dishes[12]. Pity, shame and pity, such a Translator
-found no better translation in the Church! Is it possible that, in some
-no-popery panic, it was thought by merely being Dragoman to Purgatory
-he had _Romed_ from the true faith?
-
-A very pleasant day we “Londoners” once spent at a Chiswick parsonage,
-formerly tenanted by Hogarth, along with the hospitable Cary, and, as
-Elia called them, his Caryatides![13] The last time my eyes rested on
-the Interpreter (of the House Beautiful as well as of the Inferno), he
-was on the Library steps of the British Museum. Ere this, I trust he
-hath reached the tiptop--nay, hath perhaps attained, being a Literary
-Worthy, even unto a Trusteeship, and had to buy, at Ellis’s, a few
-yards of the Blue Ribbon of Literature!
-
-Procter,--alias Barry Cornwall, formerly of the Marcian Colonnade, now
-of some prosaical Inn of Court--the kindly Procter, one of the foremost
-to welcome me into the Brotherhood, with a too-flattering Dedication
-(another instance against the jealousy of authors), is my own left-hand
-file. But what he says shall be kept as strictly confidential; for he
-is whispering it into my Martineau ear. On my other side, when I turn
-that way, I see a profile, a shadow of which ever confronts me on
-opening my writing-desk,--a sketch taken from memory, the day after
-seeing the original[14]. In opposition to the “extra man’s size” of
-Cunningham, the party in question looks almost boyish, partly from
-being in bulk somewhat beneath Monsieur Quetelet’s “Average Man,” but
-still more so from a peculiar delicacy of complexion and smallness of
-features, which look all the smaller from his wearing, in compliment,
-probably, to the _Samsons_ of Teutonic Literature, his locks unshorn.
-Nevertheless whoever looks again,
-
-    Sees more than marks the crowd of common men.
-
-There is speculation in the eyes, a curl of the lip, and a general
-character in the outline, that reminds one of some portraits of
-Voltaire. And a Philosopher he is every inch. He looks, thinks,
-writes, talks and walks, eats and drinks, and no doubt sleeps
-philosophically--_i.e._ deliberately. There is nothing abrupt
-about his motions,--he goes and comes calmly and quietly--like the
-phantom in Hamlet, he is here--he is there--he is gone! So it is
-with his discourse. He speaks slowly, clearly, and with very marked
-emphasis--the tide of talk flows like Denham’s river, “strong without
-rage, without overflowing, full.” When it was my frequent and agreeable
-duty to call on Mr. De Quincey (being an uncommon name to remember,
-the servant associated it, on the Memoria Technica principle, with a
-sore throat and always pronounced it Quinsy), and I have found him at
-home, quite at home, in the midst of a German Ocean of _Literature_, in
-a storm,--flooding all the floor, the table and the chairs,--billows
-of books tossing, tumbling, surging open,--on such occasions I have
-willingly listened by the hour whilst the Philosopher, standing, with
-his eyes fixed on one side of the room, seemed to be less speaking
-than reading from a “handwriting on the wall.” Now and then he would
-diverge, for a Scotch mile or two, to the right or left, till I was
-tempted to inquire with Peregrine in John Bull (Colman’s not Hook’s),
-“Do you never deviate?”--but he always came safely back to the point
-where he had left, not lost the scent, and thence hunted his topic to
-the end. But look!--we are in the small hours, and a change comes o’er
-the spirit of that “old familiar face.” A faint hectic tint leaves
-the cheek, the eyes are a degree dimmer, and each is surrounded by
-a growing shadow--signs of the waning influence of that Potent Drug
-whose stupendous Pleasures and enormous Pains have been so eloquently
-described by the English Opium Eater. Marry, I have one of his
-Confessions with his own name and mark to it:--an apology for a certain
-stain on his MS., the said stain being a large purplish ring,--“Within
-that circle none durst drink but he,”--in fact the impression,
-coloured, of “a tumbler of laudanum negus, warm, without sugar.”[15]
-
-That smart active person opposite with a game-cock-looking head, and
-the hair combed smooth, fighter fashion, over his forehead--with
-one finger hooked round a glass of champagne, not that he requires
-it to inspirit him, for his wit bubbles up of itself--is our Edward
-Herbert, the Author of that true piece of Biography, the Life of Peter
-Corcoran. He is “good with both hands,” like that Nonpareil Randall,
-at a comic verse or a serious stanza--smart at a repartee--sharp at a
-retort, and not averse to a bit of mischief. ’Twas he who gave the
-runaway ring at Wordsworth’s Peter Bell. Generally, his jests, set
-off by a happy manner, are only ticklesome, but now and then they are
-sharp-flavoured,--like the sharpness of the pine-apple. Would I could
-give a sample. Alas! What a pity it is that so many good things uttered
-by Poets, and Wits, and Humorists, at chance times--and they are always
-the best and brightest, like sparks struck out by Pegasus’ own hoof,
-in a curvet amongst the flints--should be daily and hourly lost to the
-world for want of a recorder! But in this Century of Inventions, when
-a self-acting drawing-paper has been discovered for copying visible
-objects, who knows but that a future Niepce, or Daguerre, or Herschel,
-or Fox Talbot, may find out some sort of Boswellish writing-paper to
-repeat whatever it hears!
-
-There are other Contributors--poor Hazlitt for instance--whose shades
-rise up before me: but I never met with them at the Entertainments just
-described. Shall we ever meet anywhere again? Alas! some are dead; and
-the rest dispersed; and the days of _Social_ Clubs are over and gone,
-when the Professors and Patrons of Literature assembled round the same
-steaming bowl, and Johnson, always best out of print, exclaimed, “Lads!
-who’s for Poonch!”
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-Amongst other notable men who came to Colebrooke Cottage, I had twice
-the good fortune of meeting with S. T. Coleridge. The first time
-he came from Highgate with Mrs. Gilman, to dine with “Charles and
-Mary.” What a contrast to Lamb was the full-bodied Poet, with his
-waving white hair, and his face round, ruddy, and unfurrowed as a
-holy Friar’s! Apropos to which face he gave us a humorous description
-of an unfinished portrait, that served him for a sort of barometer,
-to indicate the state of his popularity. So sure as his name made
-any temporary stir, out came the canvas on the easel, and a request
-from the artist for another sitting: down sank the Original in the
-public notice, and back went the copy into a corner, till some fresh
-publication or accident again brought forward the Poet; and then forth
-came the picture for a few more touches. I sincerely hope it has been
-finished! What a benign, smiling face it was! What a comfortable,
-respectable figure! What a model, methought, as I watched and admired
-the “Old Man eloquent,” for a Christian bishop! But he was, perhaps,
-scarcely orthodox enough to be trusted with a mitre. At least, some of
-his voluntaries would have frightened a common everyday congregation
-from their propriety. Amongst other matters of discourse, he came to
-speak of the strange notions some literal-minded persons form of the
-joys of Heaven; joys they associated with mere temporal things, in
-which, for his own part, finding no delight in this world, he could
-find no bliss hereafter, without a change in his nature, tantamount to
-the loss of his personal identity. For instance, he said, there are
-persons who place the whole angelical beatitude in the possession of a
-pair of wings to flap about with, like “_a sort of celestial poultry_.”
-After dinner he got up, and began pacing to and fro, with his hands
-behind his back, talking and walking, as Lamb laughingly hinted, as
-if qualifying for an itinerant preacher; now fetching a simile from
-Loddiges’ garden, at Hackney; and then flying off for an illustration
-to the sugar-making in Jamaica. With his fine, flowing voice, it was
-glorious music, of the “never-ending, still-beginning” kind; and you
-did not wish it to end. It was rare flying, as in the Nassau Balloon;
-you knew not whither, nor did you care. Like his own bright-eyed
-Marinere, he had a spell in his voice that would not let you go. To
-attempt to describe my own feeling afterward, I had been carried,
-spiralling, up to heaven by a whirlwind intertwisted with sunbeams,
-giddy and dazzled, but not displeased, and had then been rained down
-again with a shower of mundane stocks and stones that battered out of
-me all recollection of what I had heard, and what I had seen!
-
-On the second occasion, the author of Christabel was accompanied by one
-of his sons. The Poet, talking and walking as usual, chanced to pursue
-some argument, which drew from the son, who had not been introduced
-to me, the remark, “Ah, that’s just like your crying up those foolish
-Odes and Addresses!” Coleridge was highly amused with this mal-àpropos,
-and, without explaining, looked slily round at me, with the sort of
-suppressed laugh one may suppose to belong to the Bey of _Tittery_. The
-truth was, he felt naturally partial to a book he had attributed in the
-first instance to the dearest of his friends.
-
-    “MY DEAR CHARLES,--This afternoon, a little, thin,
-    mean-looking sort of a foolscap, sub-octavo of poems, printed on
-    very dingy outsides, lay on the table, which the cover informed me
-    was circulating in our book-club, so very Grub Streetish in all its
-    appearance, internal as well as external, that I cannot explain
-    by what accident of impulse (assuredly there was no _motive_ in
-    play) I came to look into it. Least of all, the title, Odes and
-    Addresses to Great Men, which connected itself in my head with
-    Rejected Addresses, and all the Smith and Theodore Hook squad. But,
-    my dear Charles, it was certainly written by you, or under you,
-    or _una cum_ you. I know none of your frequent visitors capacious
-    and assimilative enough of your converse to have reproduced you
-    so honestly, supposing you had left yourself in pledge in his
-    lock-up house. Gillman, to whom I read the spirited parody on the
-    introduction to Peter Bell, the Ode to the Great Unknown, and to
-    Mrs. Fry; he speaks doubtfully of Reynolds and Hood. But here come
-    Irving and Basil Montagu.
-
-    “_Thursday night, 10 o’clock._--No! Charles, it is _you_. I have
-    read them over again, and I understand why you have _anon’d_
-    the book. The puns are nine in ten good--many excellent--the
-    _Newgatory_ transcendent. And then the _exemplum sine exemplo_ of
-    a volume of personalities and contemporaneities, without a single
-    line that could inflict the infinitesimal of an unpleasance on any
-    man in his senses; saving and except perhaps in the envy-addled
-    brain of the despiser of your _Lays_. If not a triumph over him,
-    it is at least an _ovation_. Then, moreover, and besides, to speak
-    with becoming modesty, excepting my own self, who is there but you
-    who could write the musical lines and stanzas that are intermixed?
-
-    “Here Gillman, come up to my garret, and driven back by the
-    guardian spirits of four huge flower-holders of omnigenous roses
-    and honeysuckles--(Lord have mercy on his hysterical olfactories!
-    what will he do in Paradise? I must have a pair or two of
-    nostril-plugs, or nose-goggles laid in his coffin)--stands at the
-    door, reading that to M’Adam, and the washerwoman’s letter, and he
-    admits _the facts_. You are found _in the manner_, as the lawyers
-    say! so, Mr. Charles! hang yourself up, and send me a line, by way
-    of token and acknowledgment. My dear love to Mary. God bless you
-    and your Unshamabramizer,
-
-    “S. T. COLERIDGE.”
-
-It may be mentioned here, that instead of feeling “the infinitesimal of
-an unpleasance” at being Addressed in the Odes, the once celebrated Mr.
-Hunt presented to the Authors a bottle of his best “Permanent Ink,” and
-the eccentric Doctor Kitchiner sent an invitation to dinner.
-
-From Colebrooke, Lamb removed to Enfield Chase,--a painful operation
-at all times, for as he feelingly misapplied Wordsworth, “the _moving_
-accident was not his trade.” As soon as he was settled, I called upon
-him, and found him in a bald-looking yellowish house, with a bit of a
-garden, and a wasp’s nest convanient, as the Irish say, for one stung
-my pony as he stood at the door. Lamb laughed at the fun; but, as the
-clown says, the whirligig of time brought round its revenges. He was
-one day bantering my wife on her dread of wasps, when all at once he
-uttered a horrible shout,--a wounded specimen of the species had slily
-crawled up the leg of the table, and stung him in the thumb. I told
-him it was a refutation well put in, like Smollett’s timely snowball.
-“Yes,” said he, “and a stinging commentary on Macbeth--
-
-    “_By the pricking of my thumbs,
-    Something wicked this way comes._”
-
-There were no pastoral yearnings concerned in this Enfield removal.
-There is no doubt which of Captain Morris’s Town and Country Songs
-would have been most to Lamb’s taste. “The sweet shady side of
-Pall-Mall,” would have carried it hollow. In courtesy to a friend, he
-would select a green lane for a ramble, but left to himself, he took
-the turnpike road as often as otherwise. “Scott,” says Cunningham, “was
-a stout walker.” Lamb was a _porter_ one. He calculated Distances,
-not by Long Measure, but by Ale and Beer Measure. “Now I have walked
-a pint.” Many a time I have accompanied him in these matches against
-Meux, not without sharing in the stake, and then, what cheerful and
-profitable talk! For instance, he once delivered to me orally the
-substance of the Essay on the Defect of Imagination in Modern Artists,
-subsequently printed in the Athenæum. But besides the criticism, there
-were snatches of old poems, golden lines and sentences culled from rare
-books, and anecdotes of men of note. Marry, it was like going a ramble
-with gentle Izaak Walton, minus the fishing.
-
-To make these excursions more delightful to one of my temperament,
-Lamb never affected any spurious gravity. Neither did he ever act the
-Grand _Senior_. He did not exact that common copy-book respect, which
-some asinine persons would fair command on account of the mere length
-of their years. As if, forsooth, what is bad in itself, could be the
-better for keeping; as if intellects already _mothery_, got anything
-but _grandmothery_ by lapse of time! In this particular, he was opposed
-to Southey, or rather (for Southey has been opposed to himself) to his
-Poem on the Holly Tree.
-
-    “So serious should my youth appear among
-    The thoughtless throng;
-    So would I seem among the young and gay
-    _More grave than they_.”
-
-There was nothing of Sir Oracle about Lamb. On the contrary, at sight
-of a solemn visage that “creamed and mantled like the standing pool,”
-he was the first to pitch a mischievous stone to disturb the duck-weed.
-“He was a boy-man,” as he truly said of Elia; “and his manners lagged
-behind his years.” He liked to herd with people younger than himself.
-Perhaps, in his fine generalizing way, he thought that, in relation
-to Eternity, we are all contemporaries. However, without reckoning
-birthdays, it was always “Hail fellow, well met;” and although he
-was my elder by a quarter of a century, he never made me feel, in
-our excursions, that I was “taking a walk with the schoolmaster.”
-I remember, in one of our strolls, being called to account, very
-pompously, by the proprietor of an Enfield Villa, who asserted that my
-dog Dash, who never hunted anything in his dog-days, had chased the
-sheep; whereupon, Elia taking the dog’s part, said very emphatically,
-“Hunt _Lambs_, Sir? Why he has never hunted _me_!” But he was always
-ready for fun, intellectual or practical--now helping to pelt D*****,
-a modern Dennis, with puns; and then to persuade his sister, God bless
-her! by a vox et preterea nihil, that she was as deaf as an adder.
-In the same spirit, being requested by a young Schoolmaster to take
-charge of his flock for a day, “during the unavoidable absence of the
-Principal,” he willingly undertook the charge, but made no other use
-of his brief authority than to give the boys a whole holiday.
-
-As Elia supplied the place of the Pedagogue, so once I was substitute
-for Lamb himself. A prose article in the Gem, was not from his hand,
-though it bore his name. He had promised a contribution, but being
-unwell, his sister suggested that I should write something for him, and
-the result was the “Widow” in imitation of his manner. It will be seen
-that the forgery was taken in good part.
-
-    “DEAR LAMB,--You are an impudent varlet, but I will keep
-    your secret. We dine at Ayrton’s on Thursday, and shall try to
-    find Sarah and her two spare beds for that night only. Miss M. and
-    her tragedy may be d---- d, so may _not_ you and your rib. Health
-    attend you.
-
-    Yours,
-    T. HOOD, Esq.
-
-    “_Enfield._
-
-    “Miss Bridget Hood sends love.”
-
-How many of such pleasant reminiscences revive in my memory, whilst
-thinking of him, like secret writing brought out by the kindly warmth
-of the fire! But they must be deferred to leave me time and space
-for other attributes--for example, his charity, in its widest sense,
-the moderation in judgment which, as Miller says, is “the Silken
-String running through the Pearl Chain of all Virtues.” If he was
-intolerant of anything, it was of Intolerance. He would have been (if
-the foundation had existed, save in the fiction of Rabelais,) of the
-Utopian order of Thelemites, where each man under scriptural warrant
-did what seemed good in his own eyes. He hated evil speaking, carping,
-and petty scandal. On one occasion having slipped out an anecdote,
-to the discredit of a literary man, during a very confidential
-conversation, the next moment, with an expression of remorse, for
-having impaired even my opinion of the party, he bound me solemnly to
-bury the story in my own bosom. In another case he characteristically
-rebuked the backbiting spirit of a censorious neighbour. Some Mrs.
-Candour telling him, in expectation of an ill-natured comment, that
-Miss ***, the teacher at the Ladies’ School, had married a publican,
-“Has she so?” said Lamb, “then I’ll have my beer there!”
-
-As to his liberality in a pecuniary sense, he passed (says Lamb of
-Elia) with some people, through having a settled but moderate income,
-for a great miser. And in truth he knew the value of money, its power,
-its usefulness. One January night he told me with great glee that
-at the end of the late year he had been able to lay by--and thence
-proceeded to read me a serio-comic lecture on the text, of “Keep
-your hand out of your Pocket.” The truth is, Lamb, like Shakspeare
-in the universality of his sympathies, could feel, pro tempore, what
-belonged to the character of a Gripe-all. The reader will remember his
-capital Note in the “Dramatic Specimens,” on “the decline of Misers,
-in consequence of the _Platonic_ nature of an affection for Money,”
-since Money was represented by “_flimsies_,” instead of substantial
-coin, the good old solid sonorous dollars and doubloons, and pieces
-of eight, that might be handled, and hugged, and rattled, and perhaps
-kissed. But to this passion for hoarding he one day attributed a new
-origin. “A Miser,” he said, “is sometimes a grand personification of
-Fear. He has a fine horror of Poverty. And he is not content to keep
-Want from the door, or at arm’s length,--but he places it, by heaping
-wealth upon wealth, _at a sublime distance_!” Such was his theory: now
-for his practice. Amongst his other guests, you occasionally saw an
-elderly lady, formal, fair, and flaxen-wigged, looking remarkably like
-an animated wax doll,--and she did visit some friends or relations,
-at a toyshop near St. Dunstan’s. When she spoke, it was as if by an
-artificial apparatus, through some defect in her palate, and she had a
-slight limp and a twist in her figure, occasioned--what would Hannah
-More have said!--by running down Greenwich Hill! This antiquated
-personage had been Lamb’s Schoolmistress--and on this retrospective
-consideration, though she could hardly have taught him more than to
-read his native tongue--he allowed her in her decline, a yearly sum,
-equal to--what shall I say?--to the stipend which some persons of
-fortune deem sufficient for the active services of an all-accomplished
-gentlewoman in the education of their children. Say, thirty pounds per
-annum.
-
-Such was Charles Lamb. To sum up his character, on his own principle
-of antagonism, he was, in his views of human nature, the opposite of
-Crabbe; in Criticism, of Gifford; in Poetry, of Lord Byron; in Prose,
-of the last new Novelist; in Philosophy, of Kant; and in Religion, of
-Sir Andrew Agnew. Of his wit I have endeavoured to give such samples as
-occurred to me; but the spirit of his sayings was too subtle and too
-much married to the circumstances of the time to survive the occasion.
-They had the brevity without the levity of wit--some of his puns
-contained the germs of whole essays. Moreover, like Falstaff, he seemed
-not only witty himself but the occasion of it by example in others.
-“There is M******” said he, “who goes about dropping his good things
-as an Ostrich lays her eggs, without caring what becomes of them.” It
-was once my good fortune to pick up one of Mr. M.’s foundlings, and it
-struck me as particularly in Lamb’s own style, containing at once a
-pun and a criticism. “What do you think,” asked somebody, “of the book
-called ‘A Day in Stowe Gardens?’” Answer: “A Day ill-bestowed.”
-
-It is now some years ago, since I stood with other mourners in Edmonton
-Church Yard, beside a grave in which all that was mortal of Elia was
-deposited. It may be a dangerous confession to make, but I shed no
-tear; and scarcely did a sigh escape from my bosom. There were many
-sources of comfort. He had not died young. He had happily gone before
-that noble sister, who not in selfishness, but the devotion of a
-unique affection, would have prayed to survive him but for a day, lest
-he should miss that tender care which had watched over him upwards
-from a little child. Finally he had left behind him his works, a rare
-legacy! and above all, however much of him had departed, there was
-still more of him that could not die--for as long as Humanity endures
-and man owns fellowship with man, the spirit of Charles Lamb will still
-be extant!
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-On the publication of the Odes and Addresses, presentation copies were
-sent at the suggestion of a friend, to Mr. Canning and Sir Walter
-Scott. The minister took no notice of the little volume; but the
-novelist did, in his usual kind manner. An eccentric friend in writing
-to me, once made a number of colons, semicolons, &c., at the bottom of
-the paper, adding
-
-    “And these are my points that I place at the foot,
-    That you may put stops that I can’t stop to put.”
-
-It will surprise no one, to observe that the author of Waverley had as
-little leisure for punctuation.
-
-    “SIR WALTER SCOTT has to make thankful acknowledgments for
-    the copy of the Odes to Great People with which he was favoured
-    and more particularly for the amusement he has received from the
-    perusal. He wishes the unknown author good health good fortune
-    and whatever other good things can best support and encourage his
-    lively vein of inoffensive and humorous satire.
-
-    _Abbotsford Melrose 4th May_”
-
-The first time I ever saw the Great Unknown, was at the private view of
-Martin’s Picture of “Nineveh,” when by a striking coincidence, one of
-our most celebrated women, and one of our greatest men, Mrs. Siddons
-and Sir Walter Scott, walked simultaneously up opposite sides of the
-room, and met and shook hands in front of the painting. As Editor of
-the Gem, I had afterwards occasion to write to Sir Walter, from whom I
-received the following letter, which contains an allusion to some of
-his characteristic partialities:--
-
-    “MY DEAR MR. HOOD,--It was very ungracious in me to leave
-    you in a day’s doubt whether I was gratified or otherwise with
-    the honour you did me to inscribe your Whims and Oddities to me I
-    received with great pleasure this new mark of your kindness and it
-    was only my leaving your volume and letter in the country which
-    delayed my answer as I forgot the address.
-
-    I was favoured with Mr. Cooper’s beautiful sketch of the
-    heart-piercing incident of the dead greyhound which is executed
-    with a force and fancy which I flatter myself that I who was in my
-    younger days and in part still am a great lover of dogs and horses
-    and an accurate observer of their habits can appreciate, I intend
-    the instant our term ends to send a few verses if I can make any
-    at my years in acknowledgment. I will get a day’s leisure for this
-    purpose next week when I expect to be in the country. Pray inform
-    Mr. Cooper of my intention though I fear I will be unable to do
-    anything deserving of the subject.
-
-    I am very truly your obliged humble servant,
-
-    WALTER SCOTT.”
-
-    _Edinburgh 4 March._
-
-At last, during one of his visits to London, I had the honour of a
-personal interview with Sir Walter Scott at Mr. Lockhart’s in Sussex
-Place. The number of the house had escaped my memory; but seeing a fine
-dog down an area, I knocked without hesitation at the door. It happened
-however to be the wrong one. I afterwards mentioned the circumstance
-to Sir Walter. It was not a bad point, he said, for he was very fond
-of dogs; but he did not care to have his own animals with him, about
-London, “for fear he should be taken for Bill Gibbons.” I then told him
-I had lately been reading the Fair Maid of Perth, which had reminded
-me of a very pleasant day spent many years before, beside the Linn of
-Campsie, the scene of Conachar’s catastrophe. Perhaps he divined what
-had really occurred to me,--that the Linn, as a cataract, had greatly
-disappointed me; for he smiled, and shook his head archly, and said
-he had since seen it himself, and was rather ashamed of it. “But I
-fear, Mr. Hood, I have done worse than that before now, in finding a
-Monastery where there was none to be found; though there was plenty
-(here he smiled again) of Carduus Benedictus, or Holy Thistle.”
-
-In the meantime he was finishing his toilet, in order to dine at the
-Duchess of Kent’s; and before he put on his cravat I had an opportunity
-of noticing the fine massive proportions of his bust. It served
-to confirm me in my theory that such mighty men are, and must be,
-physically, as well as intellectually, gifted beyond ordinary mortals;
-that their strong minds must be backed by strong bodies. Remembering
-all that Sir Walter Scott had done, and all that he had suffered,
-methought he had been in more than one sense “a Giant in the Land.”
-After some more conversation, in the course of which he asked me if I
-ever came to Scotland, and kindly said he should be glad to see me at
-Abbotsford, I took my leave, with flattering dreams in my head that
-never were, and now, alas! never can be, realised!
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-And now, not to conclude in too melancholy a tone, allow me, gentle
-reader, to present to you the following genuine letter, the names,
-merely, for obvious reasons, being disguised.
-
-
-_To T. Hood, Esq._
-
-    “Thou’rt a comical chap--so am I; but thou possessest brains
-    competent to write what I mean;--I don’t--therefore, Brother Comic,
-    wilt thou oblige me (if ’twas in my power I would you)--I’ll tell
-    you just what I want, and no more. Of late, Lord *** has been
-    endeavouring to raise a body of yeomanry in this county. Now
-    there’s a man at Bedfont--a compounder of nauseous drugs--and
-    against whom I owe a grudge, who wishes to enter, but who’s no
-    more fit for a fighter than I for a punster. Now if you will just
-    give him a palpable hit or two in verse, and transmit them to me
-    by post, directed to A. B., Post Office, Bedfont, your kindness
-    shall ever be remembered with feelings of the deepest sincerity and
-    gratitude. His name is ‘JAMES BOOKER, CHEMIST,’ Bedfont
-    _of course_. If you disapprove of the above, I trust you will
-    not abuse the confidence placed in you, by ‘SPLITTING.’
-    You’ll say, how can I?--by showing this letter to him. He knows the
-    handwriting full well--but you’ll not do so, I hope. Perhaps, if
-    you feel a disposition to oblige me, you will do so at your first
-    convenience, ere the matter will be getting stale.
-
-    “Yours truly,
-    “A. B.
-
-    “Perhaps you will be kind enough to let me have an answer from you,
-    even if you will NOT condescend to accede to my wish.
-
-    “Perhaps you’ve not sufficient particulars. He’s a little fellow,
-    flushed face, long nose, precious ugly, housekeeper as ugly, lives
-    between the two Peacock Inns, is a single man, very anxious to get
-    possession of Miss Boltbee, a ward in Chancery with something like
-    £9000 (WISH he may get it), is famous for his Gout
-    Medicine, sells jalap (should like to make him swallow an ounce),
-    always knows other people’s business better than his own, used
-    to go to church, now goes to chapel, and in the whole, is a great
-    rascal.
-
-    “Bedfont is thirteen miles from London.”
-
-[Illustration: PRESERVED IN SPIRITS.]
-
-
-  [4]  To borrow an example from fiction, there is that slave of
-       circumstances, Oliver Twist. There are few authors whom one
-       would care to see running two heats with the same horse. It
-       is intended therefore as a compliment, that I wish Boz would
-       re-write the history in question from page 122, supposing his
-       hero NOT to have met with the Artful Dodger on his road to seek
-       his fortune.
-
-  [5]  In justice to the Society, it ought to be recorded, that two
-       of its members have since distinguished themselves in print: the
-       authoress of “London in the Olden Time,” and the author of a
-       “History of Moral Science.”
-
-  [6]  There was a dash of ink in my blood. My father wrote two novels,
-       and my brother was decidedly of a literary turn, to the great
-       disquietude for a time of an anxious parent. She suspected him,
-       on the strength of several amatory poems of a very desponding
-       cast, of being the victim of a hopeless attachment; so he was
-       caught, closeted, and catechised, and after a deal of delicate
-       and tender sounding, he confessed, not with the anticipated
-       sighs and tears, but a very unexpected burst of laughter, that
-       he had been guilty of translating some fragments of Petrarch.
-
-  [7]  A cottage of Ungentility, for it had neither double coach-house
-       nor wings. Like its tenant, it stood alone. He said, glancing at
-       the Paternoster one, that he did not like “the Row.” There was
-       a bit of a garden, in which, being, as he professed, “more fond
-       of Men Sects than of Insects,” he made probably his first and
-       last observation in Entomology. He had been watching a spider
-       on a gooseberry bush, entrapping a fly. “Good God,” he said, “I
-       never saw such a thing! Directly he was caught, in her fatal
-       spinning, she darted down upon him, and in a minute turned him
-       out, completely lapped in a shroud! It reminded me of the Fatal
-       Sisters in Gray.”
-
-  [8]  A sort of rheumatic celerity, of which Sir W. Scott’s favourite
-       dramatiser seemed to have a very accurate notion. Those who
-       remember “poor Terry’s” deliberate delivery, will be able to
-       account, for the shout of laughter which once rang throughout
-       the Adelphi green-room, at his emphatic manner of giving,
-       from a manuscript-play, the stage direction of “Enter----,
-       with--a--lack--ri--ty!”
-
-  [9]  As regards his Unitarianism, it strikes me as more probable
-       that he was what the unco guid people call “Nothing at all.”
-       which means that he was every thing but a Bigot. As he was in
-       spirit an Old Author, so was he in faith an Ancient Christian,
-       too ancient to belong to any of the modern sub-hubbub-divisions
-       of--Ists,--Arians, and--Inians.
-
-  [10] Talking of Poetry, Lamb told me one day that he had just met
-       with the most vigorous line he had ever read. “Where?” “Out of
-       the Camden’s Head, all in one line--
-
-         “To _One Hundred Pots of Porter_      £2 1 8”
-
-  [11] Somebody happened to say that the Peasant ought to figure in
-       the Percy Anecdotes, as an example of uncultivated genius. “And
-       where will they stick me?” asked Clare, “will they stick me in
-       the instinct?”
-
-  [12] I once cut out from a country newspaper what seemed to me a very
-       good old English poem. It proved to be a _naturalization_, by
-       Cary, of a French Song to April, by Remy Belleau.
-
-  [13] The father expressing an uncertainty to what profession he
-       should devote a younger Cary, Lamb said, “Make him an
-       Apothe-Cary.”
-
-  [14] Unable to make any thing “like a likeness” of a sitter for the
-       purpose, I have a sort of Irish faculty for taking faces behind
-       their backs. But my pencil has not been guilty of half the
-       personalities attributed to it; amongst others “a formidable
-       likeness of a Lombard Street Banker.” Besides that one would
-       rather draw on a Banker than at him, I have never seen the
-       Gentleman alluded to, or even a portrait of him in my life.
-
-  [15] On a visit to Norfolk, I was much surprised to find that Opium,
-       or Opie, as it was vulgarly called, was quite in common use in
-       the form of pills amongst the lower classes, _in the vicinity
-       of the Fens_. It is not probable that persons in such a rank
-       of life had read the Confessions,--or, might not one suspect
-       that as Dennis Brulgruddery was driven to drink by the stale,
-       flat and unprofitable prospects of Muckslush Heath, so the
-       Fen-People in the dreary foggy cloggy boggy wastes of Cambridge
-       and Lincolnshire, had flown to the Drug for the sake of the
-       magnificent _scenery_ that filled the splendid visions of its
-       Historian?
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: A LEADING ARTICLE.]
-
-
-
-
-THE CARNABY CORRESPONDENCE.
-
-
-THERE is no estimate more ludicrous than that which is formed by
-unthinking persons of the powers of Authors. Thus when a gentleman
-has once written a Book, say, on Domestic Medicine, it is popularly
-supposed that he is competent to compose a work on any subject
-whatever, from Transcendental Philosophy down to Five Minutes’ Advice
-on the Teeth. Something of the kind is observable in the Autobiography
-of Brasbridge, the Silversmith, of Fleet Street, who tells us that
-after the publication of his Memoirs, he was hailed by a fellow-citizen
-with “So you have written a book!--why, for the future I shall call you
-Shakspeare!” as if the recorder of a set of “fiddle-headed” anecdotes
-became, ipso facto, on a par with the creator of Othello. For another
-instance I can refer to my own humble experience. The anti-antiquarian
-nature of my literary researches is sufficiently well known; yet it
-did not prevent a grave retrospective-looking gentleman from one day
-concluding an account of some inedited architectural remains near
-Whitehall, with--“I wonder now that _you_, as a writer, have never
-taken up the subject!” The worthy F.A.S. might as well have suggested
-a plot for a Farce to Sylvanus Urban;--but such is the general
-opinion of the universality of a genius that prints. Bearing this
-tendency in mind, it will not seem so extraordinary that the following
-correspondence should be placed in the hands of the Editor of the Comic
-Annual by a respectable tradesman, who affirmed with tears in his eyes,
-that “it was a grave subject, worthy of the serious consideration of
-the Public.”
-
-[Illustration: THERE’S A DEFICIENCY ON THE QUARTER.]
-
-
-No. I.--_To Mister_ BENJAMIN CARNABY, _7, Brigantine Row,
-Deptford, London. (With Spead.)_
-
-    DEER BRUTHER,
-
-I am trully sory to arrow up yure relativ felings But it do seam to Me
-as my deer Bob is beeing shamfully Iltretid at his Skull. Inclosd is
-the pore fellars too letters the last jist cum to hand, And were sich
-a blo to fathurly felings I have nevver bean my hone Man evver sins.
-Id appeer he hav wel ni bin Starvd. Prays God his pore Muther is coald
-under the Hearth, it wud spile the rest of hir hashes if so be she
-cood read his tail of pewtered meet. If she ad a delite hear abuv it
-were childrins legs strate And there Bellis well fild partickly groin
-up Yuths--and She wood av run creazy to think of the Constitushun bein
-rewind for evver and ever with turnd tabil Bear. And you too I no you
-will blead at art for the mizriz of yure pore Nevy But I hop you will
-old up under it tho it be as it war a thunderboult on us boath. In
-respex of Larning it seam his mind hav bin reglectid to be nurrisht up
-as well as is bodely Fram even to cumpare the too Leters my Bob rite a
-site better gud Inglish nor his Master witch to my mind He mite hav dun
-grates at Home in loo of paing sich mints of Munny for Skulling But wat
-disapints me Most next to his fammishin is the Greek and Lattin as I
-did sit my Art upon to hav won clasicle Skollard branch in the famely.
-Them too hushers desarves a wiping at a carts tale, and so do that
-mawks with hir luv gammux in juvenal presents Much gud it wur my sendin
-him abuv a duzzin mile off from Lunnun to uncorrup his morrils. Has for
-the Dockter I cud find in my hart to strip his dipplomer over his years
-with my hone ands wen I think that in loo of techin the yung idear how
-to shut he has mayhap stunted the Pore boys groth for his lif to cum.
-But overpourin felings forebids my drawin moor picters of Bobs suffrin.
-I have had no stummuck ever sins the Post nockt me down with the Nus.
-But it wood not be becummin a parrent and a Farthe to be revealing in
-lucksriz wile the Sun of his hone lines ware revealing in fliblod beaf
-and vargis. To be sure these is felings that you as an unmarred man
-cant enter into at full lenth, but as hone Unkil by fleash and blud you
-will enter into the hard boord partickly as yure hone coarse of lif as
-had its scrimps and cum shorts and tort you what it is to be pincht
-in youre Fud. Wi i mite as well hav sent him to a short communing
-Yorksheer Skull at twenty pound per anum a yeer and had his close
-chuckt in to his Bed and bord. In the interium I hav forwardid him a
-cumfitting letter with a Won Pun Not to treet himself to sumat moor
-stayin and suportin nor stal pastery. But I do hop and beg Deer Bruther
-to hav your sentimints on the cas as you be moor caperble to advize
-me than I am, and not to delay riting if so be yure officious dutis
-purvent pearsonally quitin the yard. I wud have tuck a place on the
-Rumfud Stag and sit off at wons but Gowt forebid my cotching and so do
-Missis Rumsey for as yusial wen my felings is Frustratid all my Nervs
-is flone to my Fut. Pore Missis Rumsey simperthizes at evvery thing and
-is quit as upsit in her sperrits for as she say altho but Houskeper
-her Bowls yarns to Bob all as one with an hone hoffspring. She do say
-as Bobs a littel piggin brested and shoes simtoms of pullmary afection
-she trembil for fear pourness of blud sows seeds of sumthink fatle in
-his lunges. Indeed her mutherly hangsity offen remind a lass of her
-as lies volting in All allows barking. With witch I conclud with all
-brutherly luv, hopping to here by return of Poast. I no you seldim or
-nevver anser peples favers partickly mine but I do hop as this hear is
-a matter of vittle importins you will devot a few minuets to
-
-    Yure luving but aflicted Bruther
-    JOHN CARNABY.
-
-P. S. If so be you thort best to poshay off xpressivly to Bob, watever
-is disburstid out of pockit my Puss shall kiver the hole. Praps you
-may lick him to be tuck away at wons for it wud be a thowsend pitis to
-brake his sperrit and he is rayther tender artid as you may gudge by
-wat he rite of his pore late muther. Well, hevin nose I war never in
-faver of turning Cots but if so be they wood reform the Skulls I wood
-jine the Wigs.
-
-
-ENCLOSURE, No. I.--_To_ JOHN CARNABY, _Esquire.
-Number 49, Polyanthus Place, Mile End Road, London._
-
-    HONOURED PARENT,
-
-As the sight of his native Terra Firma to the hardy Mariner on the
-pathless waste of the vast expanse of Ocean, so are the filial
-affections of a Son and School boy to inform we break up on Friday the
-21st Instant; when I hope to find Yourself, comprising all my Relations
-and Friends, enjoying that greatest of Blessings, a state of salubrity.
-
-When we add to this the pleasing Sensation of scholastic Duties
-fulfilled with Attention, Industry, and Diligence, accompanied by a
-preponderating Progress in all juvenile Studies, Objects, and Pursuits,
-a sanguine expectation is indulged that the parental Sentiments of
-Satisfaction will be spontaneously conferred on the present half
-Year, participating however with a due regard to health, comfort,
-and morals. Indeed it would be precocious to anticipate otherwise
-by the unrelenting Vigilance and Inculcation evinced by our Guide,
-Philosopher, and Friend, Doctor Darby and Assistants, as likewise the
-more than maternal Solicitude betrayed by Mrs. Doctor D. who begs Leave
-to cordially unite with the Same in Respectful Compliments.
-
-I am happy to say the improvement I have made in the Latin and
-Greek Tongues, including French and Italian, has been very great
-and such as I trust to deserve and obtain his Parent’s, Master’s,
-Friend’s and Wellwisher’s warmest approbation and Esteem. And this
-Reflection will be enhanced to reflect, that by being impressed upon
-by pious, virtuous, and loyal Principles, every juvenile Member of the
-Establishment is a firm and uncompromising Supporter and Defender of
-King, Church and State.
-
-I will now conclude by giving my best Love to all Relations and
-Friends, and accept the Same from
-
-    Honoured Parent,
-    Your Dutiful and Affectionate Son,
-    ROBERT CARNABY.
-
-[Illustration: DRAWING UP ARTICLES OF SEPARATION.]
-
-
-ENCLOSURE No. II.--_From the Same to the Same._
-
-    DEAR FATHER,
-
-I hope you wont be angry at writing of my own Acord and if you like
-you may stop the postage out of what you mean to give me next time,
-but the other letter was all a flam and didnt speak my real mind. The
-Doctor frumpt it all up out of his own head, and we all copied it out
-for all our fathers. What I want to tell you is as the holidays is so
-nigh, I do wish you would make up your mind for me to be took away for
-good and all. I dont like the victuals for one thing and besides I am
-allmost sure we are not well teached. The table beer always gives me
-the stomach ake if I don’t tie a string tight round it and I only wish
-you see some of Mr. Murphy’s ruling when he smells so of rum Another
-thing is the batter puddings which the fellows call it putty, because
-it sticks pains in our insides, and sometimes we have stinking beef.
-Tom Spooner has saved a bit on the sly to show parents, but it’s so
-strong we are afeard it wont keep over the three weeks to the holidays,
-and we are treated like gally slaves, and hare and hounds is forbid
-because last time the hare got up behind the Chelmsford Coach and went
-home to his friends in Leadenhall Market. As for sums we know the
-ciphering Master has got a Tutors Key because theres a board at the
-bottom of his desk comes out with a little coaxing, and more than that
-hes a cruel savage and makes love to Masters daughter, and shes often
-courted in the school room because its where her father don’t come
-so much as anywheres else. The new Footman is another complaint. The
-Doctor dont allow him nothing a year for his wages except his profits
-out of the boys with fruit and pastery, and besides being rotten and
-stale, hes riz burnt almonds twice since Micklemas. Then we are almost
-quite sure Monseur Le Smith dont know Italian at least we have always
-observed he never talks to the image boys, and the old Cook never
-favours no one now except Carter with sop in pans ever since his Mother
-come to see him. And thats why I do hope at my next school you will
-raise my pocket money, its unpossible to tip handsome out of sixpence
-a week. Jackson saved enough to buy a Donkey and then divided him into
-shares and I had a shilling share but the Doctor were so unjust as
-seize on him altho there was no law agin bringing asses to the school.
-It was the same on Guy Fox day with our squibs and rockets which we
-was more mortified to hear them going off after we were in bed. I am
-certain sure we should have had a barring out in our school room long
-and long ago only the Doctor hardly ever wants to come in. Thats the
-way the ushers do just as they like in school hours and Mr. Huckings
-does a leathersellers bookkeeping and Mr. Snitch makes poetry for the
-newspapers. Its not my fault then if I am backwards in my Greek and
-Latin though I have got a Prize for Spelling and Grammer but we all
-have prizes for something to please our parents when we go home. The
-only treat we have is reddishes out of the garden when they are got old
-and burning hot and popgunny and them wont last long as masters going
-to keep pigs. I suppose then we shall have measely pork to match the
-stinking beef. The fellows say its because the Doctor swops Stokes’s
-schooling agin butchers meat and as the edication is so very bad old
-Stokes on his part wont send in any better quality. Thats whats called
-mutual accommodation in the newspapers. Give my love to Mrs. Rumsey
-with thanks for the plum cake only next time more sweetmeat, and say
-I am almost sure I sometimes sleep in a damp bed. I am certain sure
-Mrs. Rumsey would advise you the same as I do, namely for me to be
-took away, without running more risks, if it was only for fear of Mac
-Kenzie, for hes a regular tyrant and hectors over us all. Hes three
-parts a nigger and you cant punch his head so as to do any good, and
-only last Monday he was horsed for wanting to googe little Jones’s eyes
-out and for nothing at all but just looking at his towel to see if the
-black come off. I am ready to take my drop down dead if it is not all
-faithfully true, Mac Kenzie and the beef and the Footman and all, and
-I do hope you will trust to my word and be agreeable to my offer to be
-took away and I do hope it will be before next Saturday for that’s Mr.
-Paynes visiting day, the Drawing Master as I call him, but some of the
-fellows have nick named him Sinbad because he hunted the elephants so
-for their teeth. Philip Frank says theres a capital school at Richmond
-where the Master permits fishing and boating and cigars and gunpowder
-and poney chaises for only sixty guineas a year. I often think if my
-poor dear late Mother was alive it is just the genteel sort of School
-she would like me to be finished off at. But thats as you prefer and
-if you will only promise upon your honour to remove me I wont run
-away. I forgot to say I have very bad head akes sometimes besides the
-stomach akes and last week I was up in the nussery for being feverish
-and spotty, and I had to take antimonious wine but nothing made me sick
-except the gruel. Precious stuff it is and tastes like slate pencil
-dust and salt. I was in great hopes it was scarlet fever or something
-catching that I might be sent home to you, but the fisician said my
-rash was only chickings or stinging nettles. Altogether I am so unhappy
-at not getting on in my learning that I do beg and pray to be took
-away, and I will be very dutiful and grateful all the rest of my days.
-Do, pray, do, and consider me down on my bended knees. And I will wish
-you every comfort in life if you will only provide for mine, and I will
-pray for your gout to go away for ever and ever, and then I will nurse
-your last days and be such a good son to you as never was except me.
-And in that case I owe three shillings to the footman and shouldn’t
-like to leave the school in debt. I shall expect to see you come in all
-the coaches that go the road or at least that you will fetch me in a
-letter, and if I am disappointed I really do believe I shall go off my
-head or something. With which I remain
-
-    Dear Father,
-    Your dutiful and affectionate Son,
-    ROBERT CARNABY.
-
-[Illustration: THE OLD ORIGINAL RAILWAY.]
-
-
-No. II.--_To Mister_ JOHN CARNABY, _Number 49, Polyanthus
-Place, Mile End, London._
-
-    DEAR BROTHER,
-
-This is to acknowledge the favour of your family letter with
-enclosures, which came to hand as pleasant and welcome as a 4-inch
-shell, that is no great treat of itself, and discharges a worse lot
-of botheration from its inside. Between both I got as Port Royal a
-headache as a man need desire from a bottle of new rum, for which, as
-it’s not unbrotherly to swear at a nevy, “dear Bob” and his school be
-d--d. As to my not answering letters, I _always_ do, provided they are
-either saucy or challenging; in which case, like answering a broadside,
-it’s a point of duty and honour to return as good as you get;--but for
-swopping sweet civil lollipop letters, lick for lick, it’s more than I
-would do with any female alive, let alone a man. And when yours are not
-lollipopping, they’re snivelling, or else both together, as the case
-is now. However blood’s blood: and so for once I will commit what you
-want, rather than accept your invite, and go up to help you and that
-old dry red cow, Mother Rumsey, to chew the cud of the matter all over
-again by word of mouth. As for harrowing up my feelings, or ploughing
-them up either, thank my stars it’s a stiffer soil than that comes to.
-Why, my feelings are as tough--and not without need--as a bull-beef
-steak fresh killed, and take quite as much pitching into before they’re
-as tender as you suppose. Likely it is, that a man who has rammed his
-head, as I have in Africa, into a stuck camel for a secondhand swig at
-his cistern, would come within sixty degrees of the notion of pitying
-a lubberly school-boy for having as much as ever he could swill of
-sour swipes! Then for bad food, the stinkingest beef I ever met with
-was none to be had, good or bad, except the smell of the empty barrel.
-That’s something like what you call being pincht in my fud; and so it
-was I reckon when I gave my watch, and a good seven shilling piece
-besides, for about a pound of pork cartridges. So I’m not going to
-pipe my eye at dear Bob’s short commons neither. It’s all very well
-for pap-boating mothers to admire fat babbies while they’re on the
-lap; but the whole human breed would be spoiled, if Mother Nature
-did not unspoil it again by sending us now and then to the School
-of Adversity, without a knife and fork and a spoon. I came in for a
-quarter’s learning there myself, in the Desart as aforesaid, and one of
-the lessons I learnt was from the ostriches; namely, when you can’t
-get a regular cargo of food, you must go in ballast with old shoes,
-leather caps, or any other odd matters you can pick up. There’s nothing
-in life like bringing chaps up hardy, if they’re to stand the hammering
-we’re all born to, provided we are born alive. I once heard a clever
-Yankee arguing to the same point. “Rear up your lads,” says he, “like
-nails; and then they’ll not only go through the world, but you may
-clench ’em on t’other side.” And for my part, if I was a father, which
-thank God I am not, to my knowledge, I would mark down a week of Banyan
-days to every month in the Almanack, just to accustom the youngsters to
-take in and let out their bread bags, till it came natural; like the
-Laps and Esquimaux, who spend their lives in a feast and a fast, turn
-and turn about, whereby their insides get as elastic as India rubber,
-and accommodate themselves to their loading, chock full or clean, as
-falls out. I’ve known the time I would have given all my prize-money
-for a set of linings of the same conveniency, as when it was coming
-to the toss-up of a cowry whether I was to eat Tom Pike, or Tom Pike
-was to eat me. Just read the North Pole Voyages, and you will see that
-pampering bellies is not the exact course to make Captain Backs. So
-for all that’s been made on that tack, hitherto, you owe nothing but a
-higher rating to Doctor Darby, provided there’s any step above Doctor
-in his service; I’ll even go so far as stand my share towards a bit
-of plate to him, for not making my nevy a loblolly milk-sop. That’s
-my notion about hard fare. To be sure there was Mother Brownrigg was
-hung for going a little too near the wind in her ‘prentices’ insides;
-but if the balance was squared, a few of the other old women would be
-run up to the yard-arm, for slow poisoning the rising generation with
-sugar-plum cakes and kickshaw tarts. And that your dear Bob has got
-a rare sweet tooth of his own is as plain as the Pike of Teneriffe,
-for it sticks out like a Barbary wild boar’s tusks all through his
-precious complaints. Whereby you had better clap a stopper on in time,
-unless mayhap you want him to grow up in the fashion, which seems
-now-a-days for our young men to know, and think, and talk, aye and
-write too, about kitchen craft,--with their _pully olays_ and _volley
-vongs_--as if they was so many cook’s mates at a French hotel. There’s
-no disputing likings, but rather than be such a macaroni dishclout
-dandy, as delicate as a lap-dog, I’d be a turnspit’s whelp at once, and
-sit up on my hind legs a-begging for the sop in the pan. Now if you’re
-for his being one of those unabled-bodied objects of creation, I’ve
-no more to say; for you have got the right bearings, and have only to
-stand on till you bring dear Bob and Molly Coddle into one. But if so
-be on the contrary you have gumption enough to want to claw off that
-point, then down helm at once, and cut Mother Rumsey adrift, plum
-cakes and all. I’ve long had on my mind to drop you a word of advice
-against that old catamaran, who knows fast enough that two bears’ heads
-are never so likely to rub together as when they’re a-licking the same
-cub. By the cub I mean my nevy, and the two old ones are you and Mother
-R. Besides it’s been my observation through life. Many’s the young man
-and woman will live for years together in the same house, or make the
-India voyage together in the same ship, without hooking on, or even
-coming in sight of such a notion; but neither I, nor anybody else, ever
-saw two old ones, he and she, in the like case, without their coming at
-long and at last to a splice in church. So it is with an old cat and
-dog, that while they had a tooth in their heads could hardly abide in
-the same parish, whereas when they get on the superannuated list, you
-will see them as thick as thieves, and messing together in the same
-dish. The philosophy of it is more than I pretend to know, unless it be
-they’re past fighting, and fit for no active sort of work;--but so it
-is, as sure as the sea is salt. You had best then part company at once,
-if you don’t want to see dear Bob mast-headed up to the back garret, or
-cooped down in the coal-cellar, on monkey’s allowance; such being the
-first steps a stepmother always takes in any story-book I ever read.
-I’m for my nevy having fair-play after all. So as I’ve subscribed to
-the bit of plate to Dr. Darby for case-hardening the fellow’s carcass,
-you may set me down towards the spitefullest boatswain’s cat that ever
-was handled, in case it turns out he has neglected the boy’s mind.
-I’ve seen a man seized up for a much smaller offence than crimping and
-inveigling a long hundred of lads at a time to a Sham Abram school, and
-swindling them out of the best part of the property about them, namely
-their juvenile time. It is only a streak above kidnapping, seeing that
-for any profit in learning the youngsters might as well spend their
-best years in the Plantations. Not but that Parents deserve a cobbing
-themselves for putting a boy under a master without asking to look at
-his certificates. As for the Latin and Greek, mayhap they’re no loss
-to take on about. The dead and gone tongues for a tradesman’s son,
-that’s going behind a counter, is much of a muchness with fitting up a
-Newcastle collier’s cabin after the pattern of a Leith smack’s; only
-that the gilding and polishing may be grimed and grubbed off again in
-the course of trade. Still, considering they were paid for as work
-done, in common honesty my nevy ought to have had them put in his
-head; or at least something in lieu, such as Navigation or the like.
-His own mother tongue is quite a different matter; and thereupon I’ll
-give you my mind, upright and downright, of the two School-letters.
-To be sure the Doctor likes weight of metal, and fires away with the
-high-soundingest words he can get, whereby his meaning is apt to loom
-bigger than it is, like a fishing-boat in a fog; and where there’s
-such a ground swell of language, a seaman is apt to think there’s no
-great depth of ideas; but bating that, there’s nothing to shake a
-rope’s end at, but quite the reverse, especially as to teaching the
-youngsters to give three cheers for their king and country. Now, Dear
-Bob’s letter-work on the other hand, with its complaints of hard fare,
-is only fit to be sung by a snivelling Swiss beggar boy to his hurdy
-gurdy; besides many a chafe in the grammar and orthography, and being
-writ in such a scrambling up and down fist as a drunken purser might
-scrawl in a gale of wind. Now it’s my opinion a landsman that hasn’t
-his hands made as hard as horn with hauling home sheets nor his fingers
-as stiff and sticky as pitch can make ’em, has it in his power to write
-as fine penmanship as copperplate except for the want of good will. So
-that the fault may be set down to my nevy’s own account, and mayhap
-many of the rest, for no doubt there are skulkers at school as well as
-on board ship. My advice then is this, namely, just throw a shot across
-Dr. Darby’s forefoot, to let him know you mean to overhaul him, and
-demand a sight of the school log, and so forth; by which you will have
-satisfaction one way or another; and putting the case he has gone to
-leeward of his duty, why, then come hammer and tongs, and blaze away at
-him to your heart’s content. The next step in course will be to take my
-nevy from under his orders, and find him a berth in a well officered
-ship; and I am ready so far to do an uncle’s part by the lad, as help
-to look out for a proper well-appointed craft. That’s my advice whether
-you steer by it or not--and so no more at present, and not sorry to
-belay--from
-
-    Dear John, Your loving Brother,
-    BEN CARNABY.
-
-[Illustration: LAYING DOWN THE LAW.]
-
-
-No. III.--_To Mr._ BENJAMIN CARNABY, _Brigantine Row,
-Deptford, London._
-
-    DEER BRUTHER,
-
-This is to acnolidge the faver of your verry hash letter as I am
-complld to call it, both as regard deer Bob and that verry wurthy sole,
-pore Mrs. Rumsey. I am sory to find you can bare a grug so long, for
-I am shure she is too obleeging and civil spokin to hav disagred to
-your smokin in the parler if so be she had none you maid it sich a
-int. As for her inwigglin me into becummin a step farther to my one
-child watever old brut bares and cats and dogs may do, I hop my Virtu
-will purtect me from infiddlety to a former ti. As for pore Bob, he
-hav no more sweat toth then all boys is born with, and if he do rite
-with a bad hand, i nevver cud rite any grate shacks myself on an emti
-stummach. But that’s what you can’t or won’t inter into, no more than
-I can inter into cammil’s insids or hostridges eating their old shues
-and lether caps. In regard to yure advis thanking you all the sam,
-but meen to foller my hone, not but wat it ware nateral for you to
-recumend acording to yure one line of lif, to wom fiting and dueling
-is sekonand nater. As such hammer and tonges and blazin away pistles
-wood be quit in yure spear, but as for my wantin satisfaxion of Doctor
-Darby, and shuting his fore feet, or his hind feet ether, or inded any
-wares els, is moor than I coud promis tho no dout ment kindly, but I
-am nun of yure wingin amers. Besids being agin the Bibil and Gospil
-and only fit for gentilmen born. Still I tak as frendly ment, as well
-as yure offir to git yure nevy a siteation on bord ship witch wood
-be a shure way to hurry my dissent to the Tom. The see always was a
-haw to my mind, and if it litind or a grate hevvy gal came, I shod
-transpire with frite; or be thinkin on fogie nites of the ship lossing
-her way and gittin out of her depth. Howsumever I feal grateful for the
-horible idear, tho I cant xcept, and in meen time have rit to Dr. D.
-to remonsterit and ask him to say candiddle wether he hav starvd deer
-Bob and ruind his mind or no. I faver with a coppy of mine and will
-foreward hisn wen it cum, and as my gowt is mendin, mayhap I may go
-down to rumfud sum of thes days, and luck into every think with my one
-ize.
-
-    I am Deer Benjamin
-    Yure luving Bruther
-    JOHN CARNABY.
-
-[Illustration: BUTT AND BEN.]
-
-
-(Copy.)
-
-_To Dr._ DARBY _Socratis Hous School Establismint, Rumfud
-Essex._
-
-    DOCTER DARBY SUR.
-
-If so be a farther and a Parrint may tak so grate a libberty, its my
-wish to rite about my Sun. Not bein a skollard, oing to neglected
-genus in yuth, I am uncompitent to be a Gudge and war indust to sho
-the skull letter to my Bruther Benjamin, of the late Rial Navy who had
-moor buck larning for his Sheers, besids seein forren parts and he
-do say wot give grate concern to All as is concarned, namely my Suns
-edication is fur from a thurro nollige of evvery thing, and partickly
-his hostifografy or summat to that effect. As such is hily blammabil
-to yureself or tooters whos provins war to propergit wot they had in
-their hone heds into them under them, insted of witch his unkel say
-he hav bin teecht moor ignorans then anny think else. Witch is verry
-ard considring mints of munny lad out, and hevin nose I have not bin
-sparring with him, but pade away at a grate rat, ever sins he war
-britchd. Hunderds cant kiver him from fust to last And nothin but
-blited hops arter all. Cirkimstancis purvented my having moor nor one
-acomplishment and that war my farthers bisness, but tho brort up hill
-miself I no the Valley of edicashun. Warefor if it be no offens I wish
-to no candiddle from your hone Mouth wether you hav so unedicatted
-him as his Unkil suspex. At sam tim will esteam a faver to no if he
-continny in gud helth witch ware always a littel dellicat and pecking,
-but I trust as how Rumfud hare and gud beaf and muttin and holesum wit
-bred and milk hav made him quit fat. His pore late muther lickwise
-made a pint of gud unturnd tabel bear, as all assiduities is injurus
-to yuth. As she used to say, pore sole, fud and flanning saves fisick.
-Allso I hop and trust you disalow the boys of advanst years tirenizing
-over the weekly wons, or savedge tooters as is apt to sho lickings and
-dislickings. The tooters morrils in course is a car not overluckd, but
-sweetharting demand constant vigilings to gard agin its cumming in
-clandestiny where it ort not. Mrs. Rumsey also begs to apollogiz for
-naming damp beds, but in coarse Misses Doctor Darby have a muther’s
-feelings about damp lining for boys boddis. All witch will give grate
-sattisfaxun to here, as in case of the revers parrintel duty will feal
-hobbligated to remov afore the mischief go to fur. I shall luck eggerly
-for your anser and trust you will embrace all the queerys. I ashore it
-will giv grate pleshure not to hav to remove my custom, with witch and
-respective compliments,
-
-    I remane Dr. Darby Sur
-    Your verry humbel Servant
-    JOHN CARNABY.
-
-[Illustration: “WE DON’T KNOW WHAT WE CAN DO TILL WE TRY.”]
-
-[Illustration: “THERE’S A RIGHT WAY AND A WRONG FOR EVERY THING.”]
-
-
-No. IV.--_To Mister_ BENJAMIN CARNABY, _Brigantine Row,
-Deptford._
-
-    DEER BENJAMIN,
-
-Inclosd is Dr. Darby’s explainative Not, witch for anny thing I no to
-the contrairy is evvery thing as we cud luck for, without going into
-the retales. He apear to hav no douts of a misscomprehenshun on our
-parts, witch prove us to be boath in the rong as will be a grate comfit
-to you and deer Benjamin.
-
-    Yure luving Bruther
-    JOHN CARNABY.
-
-
-(THE ENCLOSURE.)--_To_ JOHN CARNABY, _Esquire._
-
-    DEAR SIR,
-
-In ancient Greece and Rome, so celebrated for their classical
-Attainments, it would have been considered derogatory to the Academical
-Dignity, for Scholastic Discipline to be subject to Animadversion from
-a Civic Character, professedly unconversant with Polite Literature in
-all its Branches. As the Principal of a Pedagogical Establishment, I
-might, therefore, objurgate with Propriety any irrelevant Discussion
-to be deprecated from such a superfluous source. Conscious, however,
-of standing on the Basis of an undeniable Prospectus, which professes
-to embrace Universal Knowledge, throughout the Circle of the Arts and
-Sciences, I am prepared to assert that a more Comprehensive System
-of Education could not be devised than that which is ascribed to
-the Establishment of Socrates House. If further Testimonials were
-necessary, I might triumphantly appeal to the Mental Cultivation of
-flourishing Members of Society, evinced in the successful Pursuit of
-Affluence, in the Eastern and Western Hemispheres, so advantageous
-to the Commerce, Wealth, and Power, of the United Kingdom. Such
-Testimonies, it is presumed, are sufficiently obvious to the most
-Unprejudiced Mind, to demand those unerring Principles of fostering
-Talent, inviting Emulation, and stimulating Enquiry, combined with
-Moral, Intellectual, and Dietetical qualities, such as to command
-the unreserved Approbation and Confidence of all parties engaged in
-the important Task of Juvenile Tuition. Trusting that the Prolixity
-of this explanatory Statement will propitiate the most Paternal
-Solicitude, with sentiments in accordance with the rapid Progress of
-Human Civilization, permit me to subscribe myself, with every feeling
-of respect,
-
-    Dear Sir,
-    Your most obedient, faithful, humble servant,
-    SIMON DARBY, LL.D.
-
-[Illustration: WIGWAM.]
-
-
-No. V.--_To Mr._ JOHN CARNABY, _49, Polyanthus Place, Mile End
-Road, London._
-
-    DEAR BROTHER,
-
-If I was to write what comes uppermost, I should stand a chance of a
-place I won’t name. But you always was a you-know-what, and as the
-proverb says, there’s never a one like you now you are old. As for the
-school, it’s the nest of a land pirate; and for any good to his mind,
-dear Bob might as well be in the Hulks. However it won’t do to let you
-go and make a so-and-so of yourself all over the country--whereby,
-luckily for you, there’s an old shipmate of mine laid up at Rumford,
-and so I can kill him and my Nevy with the same stone. So let Mister
-Doctor Darby look out for squalls, and that’s all from
-
-    Your loving Brother,
-    BEN CARNABY.
-
-[Illustration: “BLESS ME, HOW BALD YOU ARE!”
-
-“YES--I WAS PLUCKED AT COLLEGE.”]
-
-
-No. VI.--(_From the Same to the Same._)
-
-    DEAR BROTHER,
-
-This is to say I made this place, namely Rumford, yesterday morning
-about 10 A.M., and immediately bore away to Socrates House,
-and asked for my nevy,--but you shall have it logged down all fair and
-square.
-
-[Illustration: “IN FOR A PENNY--IN FOR A POUND.”]
-
-Well, after a haul at the bell, and so forth, I was piloted into a
-room, on the ground tier, by the footman, and a pastryfaced son of a
-land cook he looked sure enough. Where, as soon as may be, Mrs. Doctor
-Darby joins company, a tight little body enough, all bobbing up and
-down with courtesys like the buoy at the Nore, and as oily tongued as
-any rat in the Greenland Docks. By her own account, she rated a step
-above Mother to six score of boys, big and little, and every man jack
-of them more made of, and set store by, than if they had been parts
-of her own live stock. All which flummery would go down with you, and
-the marines, mayhap, but not with old sailors like me. As for dear
-Bob, she buttered him of both sides, thick and threefold, as the best,
-sweetest, darlingest, and what not young gentleman of the whole kit,
-besides finding out a family likeness between him and his uncle, which
-if it’s any feature at all, is all my eye. Next she enquired after
-you, the worthiest parent she ever knew, not excepting her own father,
-whereby I blest my stars you were not within hail; or you would have
-been flabbergasted in no time, with your eyes running like scuppers,
-and your common senses on their beam ends. At long and last in comes my
-Nevy himself, as smooth and shining as a new copper; whereby says she,
-“I hope you will excuse untidiness, and so forth, because of sending
-for him just as he stood.” That’s how he came no doubt in his Sunday’s
-breeches; besides twigging the wet soap-suds in his ears. “Here my
-sweet love,” she sings out, “here’s your dear kind uncle so good as to
-come to enquire after your welfare.” So dear Bob, heaves ahead, and
-gets a kiss, not from me tho, and a liquorish lozenge for what she
-called his nasty hack. Nothing however but a colic with parched peas,
-as he owned to afterwards. “Now, then, Nevy,” says I, “what cheer--how
-do you like your berth?” when up jumps Madam like a scalded cat; and
-no or yes, I must drink the favour of a glass of Sherry Rank Cape,
-John, as ever was shipped. Then Master Robert, bless him, must have a
-leetle glass too, but provided I approve, and a ration of sweet cake.
-Whereby says she, “Now I will leave you to your mutual confidences”--as
-looked all fair and above board enough, if I had not made out a foot
-near the door. And in the twinkling of a handspike in sails Dr. Darby
-himself, with as many scrapes to me as if I was Port Admiral; and as
-anxious about my old gout,--for I’ve got an easy shoe for a bunion--as
-if he’d been intimate with it in my great-grandfather’s time. Well, we
-palavered a bit about the French news, and the weather, and the crops,
-whatever you like, let alone book learning; but that was not my course,
-and impatient to see Tom Pike, besides, so I ran slap aboard him at
-once with an ask to see the school. As I looked for, he was took all
-aback; however Madam wasn’t thrown so dead in the wind, but jumped up
-to the bell tackle, and after a bit of a whisper with the servant, we
-got under way for the school; but contrived to land somehow in the
-kitchen, with a long row of quartern loaves drawn up on a dresser to
-receive us, like a file of marines. Then Madam begins to spin a long
-yarn about plain food, but plenty of it, for growing youths--dear Bob’s
-very lathy, John, for all that--and then comes the Doctor’s turn to
-open with a preachment on animal foods, and what will digest, and what
-won’t; tho’ for my own part, I never met with any meat but would do it
-in time, more or less. So by way of clapping a stopper I made bold to
-remind that time is short tho’ life is long, and thereby luffing slap
-up to my Nevy, “Bob,” says I, “what’s the variation of the compass?”
-So Master Bob turns it about a bit, and then says he, “Why, it’s one
-leg shorter than t’other.” Which is about as nigh it, Brother, as you
-are to Table Bay! And how it gave the Doctor a bad fit of coughing,
-which his wife caught of him as natural as if it had been the hooping
-sort--at last says she, “Maybe Master Robert has not progressed yet
-into navigation.” “Maybe not, Ma’am,” says I, “and so we’ll try on
-another tack--Nevy, what’s metaphysics?” “Brimstone and Treacle,”
-says Bob, as ready as gunpowder, and the lady looked as satisfied as
-Bob did--but the Doctor had another bad fit, and good reason why, for
-there’s no more physic in metaphysics than a baby might take in its
-pap. By this time we were going up stairs, but lay-to awhile alongside
-a garden pump on the landing, to have a yarn about dowsing glims,
-and fire guards, and going the rounds at night; and as dear Bob hung
-astarn, I yawed, and let fly at him again with “What’s religion?” “The
-colic on Sundays,” says he, as smart as you like; tho’ what he meant
-by colic the Old Gentleman knows. However both the Doctor and Madam
-pulled a pleasant face at him, and looked as pleased as if he had found
-out the longitude; but that was too fine weather to last, for thinks
-I, in course he can carry on a little further on that board, so says
-I, “What’s the main-top-gallant rule of Christianity?” “Six weeks at
-Christmas,” says he, as bold as brass from getting encouraged before.
-So you see, John, he don’t know his own persuasion. In course we were
-all at wry faces again; but the Doctor had the gumption to shove his
-out of a window, and sing out an order to nobody in the back yard. As
-for Madam, she shot ahead into the sleeping rooms, where I saw half
-a hundred of white dimity cots, two warming-pans, and nine clothes
-baskets--Master Robert’s berth among the rest. Next we bore away
-by a long passage to the kitchen again, where two rounds of boiled
-beef had been put to officer the quartern loaves, and so through the
-washery and pot-and-pannery into the garden ground, where I came in
-for as long a yarn about the wholesomeness of fresh vegetables and
-salads, as if the whole crew of youngsters had been on the books with
-the scurvy. From the cabbages we got to the flowerbeds; and says the
-Doctor, “I don’t circumscribe, or circumvent, one or t’other; I don’t
-circumvent my pupils to scholastical works, but encourage perusing the
-book of Nature.”--“That’s very correct, then, Doctor,” said I, “and
-my own sentiment exactly. Nevy, what’s Natural Philosophy?”--“Keeping
-rabbits,” says Bob; which sounds likely enough, but it’s not the thing
-by sixty degrees. I can’t say but I felt the cats’-paws coming over my
-temper; but I kept it under till we fetched the paddock, to look at the
-cows; and that brought up another yarn about milk-dieting; and says
-Madam, “when summer comes, our Doctor is so good as to permit the young
-gentlemen to make his hay.”--“No doubt alive, Ma’am,” says I; “saves
-hands, and good fun too, eh, nevy?--What’s Agriculture?” However this
-time dear Bob chose to play sulky, and wouldn’t answer good or bad;
-whereby the Doctor crowds up, with a fresh question. “Now then, Master
-Robert,” says he pretty sharp, “I will ask you something you _do_
-know. What is Algebra,--Al--gebra?”--“Please Sir,” says Bob, “it’s a
-wild donkey all over stripes.”--“There’s a dear boy!” cries Madam, the
-more fool she; but old Darby looked as black as thunder at midnight.
-“I’m afraid,” says he, letting go the toplifts, as one may say, of his
-eyebrows; “I’m afraid there has been a little slackness here with the
-cat; but, by your leave, Sir, and so forth, I will investigate a little
-into it myself. Now Master Robert, take a pull at your mental tackle,
-for I’m going to overhaul your Mathematics:--How do you describe a
-triangle?”--“Please Sir,” says Bob, “it’s the thing that tingle-tangles
-to the big drum.” Well, there was the devil to pay again, and no pitch
-hot! Old Darby looked as if he meant either to drop down dead on the
-spot of apoplexy, or to murder dear Bob; he swelled and reddened up
-so about the wattles without hoisting out a word. For my own part,
-nevy as he was, I couldn’t help serving him out a back-handed slap
-of the head, and then I turned-to at the schoolmaster. “So, Mister
-Doctor,” says I, “this is what you call a liberal education in your
-manifest?”--“Sir,” says he, looking as stiff as a corporal just made,
-“whatever your, some cursed long hard word may be, I cannot consider
-myself liable for the lagging astern of, I must say, the dullest sailor
-in my whole convoy.”--“Why, blood and thunder!” said I, for old Nick
-could not have helped it--“you told me that Bob, my nevy there, was the
-handiest and smartest of the whole kit!”--“That was _me_, Sir,” says
-the lady hauling in between us--“and then I only spoke as to temper,
-as Greek and Latin are beyond a female’s provinces”--which was true
-enough; so I felt bound to beg her pardon, which was granted: and
-we had smooth water again till we neared the school-room. Now then,
-thought I, look out for squalls, for my mind was made up to stand no
-nonsense from the petty officers, that is to say, gentlemen ushers. So
-I ranged up alongside the most mathematical looking one I could pick
-out, by way of having a bout with him at trigonometry; but he chose
-to be as shy, and deaf and dumb, as a Gibraltar monkey just grabbed.
-“With submission, my good Sir,” says the Doctor, putting in his oar,
-“Mr. Huckin may consider it a work of supereror-something, and a
-going beyond ourselves, to re-examine him after the very satisfactory
-certificates that satisfied _me_ myself.”--“That’s to say,” says I,
-“in plain English, that I’m to get nothing but what I can screw out
-of my nevy?”--“My dear Sir,” says the Doctor, “you misconstruct me
-entirely--the whole of the juvenile pupils are open to candid scrutiny.
-Suppose we begin with the classics. Master Bush, Sir, you will English
-me _hic_, _hac_, _hoc_.”--“This, that, and t’other,” says Master Bush;
-no great shakes of an answer, I guess, but it seemed to serve for a
-come-off. Then came my turn, so I asked who was the discoverer of
-America? and may I never break biscuit again, if he didn’t say “Yankee
-Doodle!” Well, to cut off the end of a long yarn, this was as good as
-there was to be got out of the best of them. One told me that Guy Fox
-found out gunpowder; and another that a solar eclipse was along of the
-sun’s standing in its own light. What else I might have learned, that
-I never knew before, must be left over for a guess; for in the middle
-of the next ask, it was all hats aloft! and three cheers for a half
-holiday; but if I had any hand in begging it, may I die ashore in a dry
-ditch! However that was too much of a dog’s trick to be took quietly,
-so I prepared a broadside, with a volley of oaths to it, by way of
-small arms; but before I could well bring it to bear, the Doctor hauls
-out his watch, and says he, “It’s extremely bad luck, but there’s a
-voting this morning for a parish beadle, and I make a point not to let
-my private duties get to windward of my public ones.” So saying, with
-a half-and-half sort of a bow, to me, he cut and run; Madam getting
-athwart hawse so as to cover his getting off. In course it was no use
-to waste speech upon her; but I made bold to d--n the whole covey of
-undermasters, in the lump, as a set of the sharkingest, loggerheaded,
-flute-playing, skulking, lubberly sons of grinning weavers and tailors
-that ever broke bread. So the finish over all is, that I took my nevy
-away, traps and all; and not an hour too soon; and with Bob in tow
-I made Tom Pike’s, who was as glad to see his old messmate as I was
-to see him; and what’s more, when he heard the bit of a brush I had
-enjoyed, he informed me that Doctor Darby, LL.D., and what not, was all
-one and the same with Darby the shipchandler, that went to pieces down
-at Wapping. You see then, as the chaplain says, that all’s for the best
-either here or hereafter; and so no more, till Monday, when I shall
-bring my nevy Bob to you, to make what you will of him, which I hope
-will be as like a man as possible. If otherwise, I won’t promise not to
-change my name by act of parliament, and so be no relation to dear Bob,
-nor to you neither; and that’s the real mind of
-
-    Your loving Brother,
-    BEN CARNABY.
-
-[Illustration: RECRIMINATION.]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: BLIND HOOKEY.]
-
-
-
-
-A RISE AT THE FATHER OF ANGLING.
-
-
-THE memory of Izaak Walton has hitherto floated down the stream of
-time without even a nibble at it; but, alas! where is the long line
-so pure and even that does not come sooner or later to have a weak
-length detected in it? The severest critic of Molière was an old
-woman; and now a censor of the same sex takes upon herself to tax the
-immortal work of our Piscator with holding out an evil temptation to
-the rising generation Instead of concurring in the general admiration
-of his fascinating pictures of fishing, she boldly asserts that the
-rod has been the spoiling of her child, and insists that in calling
-the Angler gentle and inoffensive, the Author was altogether wrong in
-his _dubbing_. To render her strictures more attractive she has thrown
-them into a poetical form; having probably learned by experience that
-a rhyme at the end of a line is a very taking bait to the generality
-of readers. Hark! how she rates the meek Palmer whom Winifred Jenkins
-would have called “an angle upon earth!”
-
-
-_To Mr._ IZAAK WALTON, _at Mr._ MAJOR’S _the
-Bookseller’s in Fleet Street._
-
-    Mr. Walton, it’s harsh to say it, but as a Parent I can’t help
-        wishing
-    You’d been hung before you publish’d your book, to set all the
-        young people a fishing!
-    There’s my Robert, the trouble I’ve had with him it surpasses a
-        mortal’s bearing,
-    And all thro’ those devilish angling works--the Lord forgive me for
-        swearing!
-    I thought he were took with the Morbus one day, I did with his nasty
-        angle!
-    For “oh dear,” says he, and burst out in a cry, “oh my gut is all
-        got of a tangle!”
-    It’s a shame to teach a young boy such words--whose blood wouldn’t
-        chill in their veins
-    To hear him, as I overheard him one day, a-talking of blowing out
-        brains?[16]
-    And didn’t I quarrel with Sally the cook, and a precious scolding I
-        give her,
-    “How dare you,” says I, “for to stench the whole house by keeping
-        that stinking liver?”
-    ’Twas enough to breed a fever, it was! they smelt it next door at
-        the Bagots’,--
-    But it wasn’t breeding no fever--not it! ’twas my son a-breeding of
-        maggots!
-    I declare that I couldn’t touch meat for a week, for it all seemed
-        tainting and going,
-    And after turning my stomach so, they turned to blueflies, all
-        buzzing and blowing;
-    Boys are nasty enough, goodness knows, of themselves, without
-        putting live things in their craniums;
-    Well, what next? but he pots a whole cargo of worms along with my
-        choice geraniums.
-
-[Illustration: “THE GREAT GLOBE ITSELF, YEA, ALL WHICH IT INHERIT,
-SHALL DISSOLVE!”]
-
-    And another fine trick, tho’ it wasn’t found out, till the housemaid
-        had given us warning,
-    He fished at the golden fish in the bowl, before we were up and down
-        in the morning.
-    I’m sure it was lucky for Ellen, poor thing, that she’d got so
-        attentive a lover.
-    As bring her fresh fish when the others deceas’d, which they did a
-        dozen times over!
-    Then a whole new loaf was short! for I know, of course, when our
-        bread goes faster,--
-    And I made a stir with the bill in my hand, and the man was sent off
-        by his master;
-    But, oh dear, I thought I should sink thro’ the earth, with the
-        weight of my own reproaches,
-    For my own pretty son had made away with the loaf, to make pastry to
-        feed the roaches!
-    I vow I’ve suffered a martyrdom--with all sorts of frights and
-        terrors surrounded!
-    For I never saw him go out of the doors but I thought he’d come home
-        to me drownded.
-    And, sure enough, I set out one fine Monday to visit my married
-        daughter,
-    And there he was standing at Sadler’s Wells, a-performing with real
-        water.
-    It’s well he was off on the further side, for I’d have brain’d him
-        else with my patten,
-    For I thought he was safe at school, the young wretch! a studying
-        Greek and Latin,
-    And my ridicule basket he had got on his back, to carry his fishes
-        and gentles;
-    With a belt I knew he’d made from the belt of his father’s
-        regimentals--
-    Well, I poked his rods and lines in the fire, and his father gave
-        him a birching,
-    But he’d gone too far to be easy cured of his love for chubbing and
-        perching.
-    One night he never came home to tea, and altho’ it was dark and
-        dripping,
-    His father set off to Wapping, poor man! for the boy had a turn for
-        shipping;
-    As for me I set up, and I sobbed and I cried for all the world like
-        a babby,
-    Till at twelve o’clock he rewards my fears with two gudging from
-        Waltham Abbey!
-    And a pretty sore throat and fever he caught, that brought me a
-        fortnight’s hard nussing,
-    Till I thought I should go to my grey-hair’d grave, worn out with
-        the fretting and fussing;
-    But at last he was cur’d, and we did have hopes that the fishing was
-        cured as well,
-    But no such luck! not a week went by before we’d have another such
-        spell.
-    Tho’ he never had got a penny to spend, for such was our strict
-        intentions,
-    Yet he was soon set up in tackle agin, for all boys have such quick
-        inventions:
-    And I lost my Lady’s Own Pocket Book, in spite of all my hunting and
-        poking,
-    Till I found it chuck full of tackles and hooks, and besides it had
-        had a good soaking.
-    Then one Friday morning, I gets a summoning note from a sort of a
-        law attorney,
-    For the boy had been trespassing people’s grounds while his father
-        was gone a journey,
-    And I had to go and hush it all up by myself, in an office at Hatton
-        Garden;
-    And to pay for the damage he’d done, to boot, and to beg some
-        strange gentleman’s pardon.
-    And wasn’t he once fished out himself, and a man had to dive to find
-        him,
-    And I saw him brought home with my motherly eyes and a mob of people
-        behind him?
-    Yes, it took a full hour to rub him to life--whilst I was
-        a-screaming and raving,
-    And a couple of guineas it cost us besides, to reward the humane man
-        for his saving,
-    And didn’t Miss Crump leave us out of her will, all along of her
-        taking dudgeon
-    At her favourite cat being chok’d, poor Puss, with a hook sow’d up
-        in a gudgeon?
-    And old Brown complain’d that he pluck’d his live fowls, and not
-        without show of reason,
-    For the cocks looked naked about necks and tails, and it wasn’t
-        their moulting season;
-    And sure and surely, when we came to enquire, there was cause for
-        their screeching and cackles,
-    For the mischief confess’d he had picked them a bit, for I think he
-        called them the hackles.
-    A pretty tussle we had about that! but as if it warn’t picking
-        enough,
-    When the winter comes on, to the muff-box I goes, just to shake out
-        my sable muff--
-    “O mercy!” thinks I, “there’s the moth in the house!” for the fur
-        was all gone in patches;
-    And then at Ellen’s chinchilly I look, and its state of destruction
-        just matches--
-    But it wasn’t no moth, Mr. Walton, but flies--sham flies to go
-        trolling and trouting,
-    For his father’s great coat was all safe and sound, and that first
-        set me a-doubting.
-    A plague, say I, on all rods and lines, and on young or old watery
-        danglers!
-    And after all that you’ll talk of such stuff as no harm in the world
-        about anglers!
-    And when all is done, all our worry and fuss, why, we’ve never had
-        nothing worth dishing;
-    So you see, Mister Walton, no good comes at last of your famous book
-        about fishing.
-    As for Robert’s, I burnt it a twelvemonth ago; but it turned up too
-        late to be lucky,
-    For he’d got it by heart, as I found to the cost of
-
-    Your servant,
-    JANE ELIZABETH STUCKEY.
-
-[Illustration: THERE’S NEVER A WHALE WITHOUT A BLUBBER.]
-
-
-  [16] Chewing and spitting out bullock’s brains into the water for
-       ground-bait is called _blowing of brains_. Salter’s Angler’s
-       Guide.
-
-
-
-
-RIGHT AND WRONG.
-
-A SKETCH AT SEA.
-
-
-THE Rights of Man,--whether abstract or real, divine or vulgar, vested
-or contested, civil or uncivil, common or uncommon--have been so fully
-and so frequently discussed, that one would suppose there was nothing
-new to be felt or expressed on the subject. I was agreeably surprised,
-therefore, during a late passage from Ireland, to hear the rights of
-an individual asserted in so very novel a manner as to seem worthy of
-record. The injured party was an involuntary fellow-passenger; and
-the first glance at him as he leisurely ascended the cabin stairs,
-bespoke him an original. His face, figure, dress, gait, ad gestures,
-were all more or less eccentric; yet, without any apparent affectation
-of singularity. His manner was perfectly earnest and business-like,
-though quaint. On reaching the deck, his first movement was towards the
-gangway, but a moment sufficed to acquaint him with the state of the
-case. The letter-bags having been detained an hour beyond the usual
-time of departure, the steam had been put on at a gallop, and Her
-Majesty’s mail packet the Guebre had already accomplished some hundred
-fathoms of her course. This untoward event, however, seemed rather
-to surprise than annoy our Original, who quietly stepped up to the
-Captain, with the air of demanding what was merely a matter of course:
-
-“Hollo, Skipper! Off she goes, eh? But you must turn about, my boy, and
-let me get out.”
-
-[Illustration: “HE’S A-GOING TO TAKE A TOWER.”]
-
-“Let you get out!” echoed the Skipper, and again repeating it, with
-what the musicians call a staccato--“Let--you--get--out!”
-
-“Exactly so. I’m going ashore.”
-
-“I’m rather afraid you are _not_, Sir,” said the Skipper, looking
-decidedly serious, “unless you allude to the other side!”
-
-[Illustration: AN AQUATIC TRIP.]
-
-“The other side!” exclaimed the Oddity, involuntarily turning towards
-England. “Poo! poo! nonsense, man,--I only came to look at your
-accommodations. I’m not going across with you--I’m not, upon my word!”
-
-“I must beg your pardon, Sir;” said the Captain, quite solemnly. “But
-it is my firm opinion that you _are_ ‘going across.’”
-
-“Poo, poo! all gammon.--I till you I am going back to Dublin.”
-
-“Upon my soul, then,” said the Skipper, rather briskly, “you must swim
-back like a grampus, or borrow a pair of wings from the gulls.”
-
-The man at the helm grinned his broadest at what he thought a good joke
-of his officer’s--while the Original turned sharply round, parodied a
-hyena’s laugh at the fellow, and then returned to the charge.
-
-“Come, come, Skipper--it’s quite as far out as I care for--if you want
-to treat me to a sail!”
-
-“Treat you to a sail!” roared the indignant officer. “Zounds! Sir, I’m
-in earnest--as much in earnest as ever I was in my life.”
-
-“So much the better,” answered the Original. “_I’m_ not joking myself,
-and I have no right to be joked upon.”
-
-“Joke or no joke,” said the Captain--“all I know is this. The mail bags
-are on board--and it’s more than my post is worth to put back.”
-
-“Eh? What? How?” exclaimed the Oddity, with a sort of nervous dance.
-“You astonish me! Do--you--really--mean to say--I’m obligated to
-go--whether I’ve a right or not?”
-
-“I do indeed, Sir--I’m sorry for it, but it can’t be helped. My orders
-are positive. The moment the mail is on board I must cast off.”
-
-“Indeed!--well--but you know--why, that’s _your_ duty, not _mine_. _I_
-have no right to be cast off! I’ve no right to be here at all. I’ve no
-right to be anywhere--except in Merrion Square!”
-
-The Captain was bothered. He shrugged up his shoulders, then gave a
-low whistle, then plunged his hands in his pockets--then gave a loud
-order to somebody, to do something, somewhere or other; and then began
-to walk short turns on the deck. His Captive, in the meantime, made
-hasty strides towards the stern, as if intending to leap overboard; but
-he suddenly stopped short, and took bewildered look at the receding
-coast. The original wrong was visibly increasing in length, breadth,
-and depth, every minute; and he again confronted the Captain.
-
-[Illustration: DEEP DISTRESS PRODUCED BY MACHINERY.]
-
-“Well, Skipper--you’ve thought better of it--I’ve no right in the
-world, have I?--You will turn her round?”
-
-“Totally impossible, Sir--quite out of my power.”
-
-“Very well, very well, very well indeed!” the Original’s temper was
-getting up as well as the sea. “But mind, Sir--I protest. I protest
-against _you_, Sir--and against the ship--and the ocean, Sir--and
-everything! I’m getting further and further out--but, remember, I’ve
-no _right_! You will take the consequences. I have no right to be
-kidnapped--ask the Crown lawyers, if you think fit!”
-
-After this denouncement, the Speaker began to pace up and down like
-the Captain, but at the opposite side of the deck. He was on the boil,
-however, as well as the engine,--and every time that he passed near
-the man whom he considered as his Sir Hudson Lowe, he gave vent to the
-inward feeling in a jerk of the head, accompanied by a short pig-like
-grunt. Now and then it broke out in words, but always the same four
-monosyllables, “This--is--too--bad”--with a most emphatic fall of the
-foot to each. At last it occurred to a stout pompous-looking personage
-to interpose as a mediator. He began by dilating on the immense
-commercial importance of a punctual delivery of letters--thence he
-insisted on the heavy responsibility of the Captain; with a promise
-of an early return packet from Holyhead--and he was entering into
-a congratulation of the fineness of the weather, when the Original
-thought it was time to cut him short.
-
-“My good Sir--you’ll excuse me. The case is nobody’s but my own. _You_
-are a regular passenger. You have a right to be in this packet--you
-have a right to go to Holyhead--or to Liverpool--or to Gibraltar,--or
-to the world’s end--_if--you--like_. But _I_ choose to be in Dublin.
-What right have I to be here then? Not--one--atom! I’ve no right to
-be in this vessel--and the Captain there knows it. I’ve no right
-(stamping) to be on this deck! I have no more right to be tossing at
-sea (waving his arms up and down) than the Pigeon House!”
-
-“It is a very unpleasant situation, I allow, Sir,” said the Captain
-to the stout Passenger. “But, as I have told the gentleman, my hands
-are tied. I can do nothing--though nobody is more sorry for his
-inconvenience.”
-
-“Inconvenience be hanged!” exclaimed the Oddity, in a passion at last.
-“It is NO inconvenience, Sir! Not--the--smallest. But that
-makes no difference as to my being here. It’s that--and that alone,--I
-dispute all right to!”
-
-[Illustration: SEA RIDDLE. “DO YOU GIVE IT UP?”]
-
-“Well, but my dear, good Sir,” expostulated the pompous man; “admitting
-the justice of your premises, the hardship is confessedly without
-remedy.”
-
-“To be sure it is,” said the Captain, “every inch of it. All I can say
-is, that the gentleman’s passage shall be no expense to him!”
-
-“Thankee--of _course_ not,” said the Original with a sneer. “I’ve no
-right to put my hand in my pocket! Not that I mind expense. But it’s
-my right I stand up for, and I defy you both to prove that I have any
-right--or any shadow of a right--to be in your company! I’ll tell you
-what, Skipper”--but before he could finish the sentence, he turned
-suddenly pale, made a most grotesque wry face, and rushed forward to
-the bow of the vessel. The Captain exchanged a significant smile with
-the stout gentleman; but before they had quite spoken their minds of
-the absent character, he came scrambling back to the binnacle, upon
-which he rested with both hands, while he thrust his working visage
-within a foot of the skipper’s face.
-
-[Illustration: “CHARMING SPOTS ABOUT THIS PART OF THE RIVER.”]
-
-“There, Skipper!--now, Mr. What d’ye call--What do you both say to
-_that_? What right have I to be sick--as sick as a dog? I’ve no right
-to be squeamish! I’m not a passenger. I’ve no right to go tumbling
-over ropes and pails and what not to the ship’s head!”
-
-“But my good Sir,”--began the pompous man.
-
-“Don’t Sir me, Sir! _You_ took your own passage. You have a _right_ to
-be sick--You’ve a right to go to the side every five minutes--you’ve a
-right to DIE of it! But it’s the reverse with me--I have no
-right of the sort!”
-
-[Illustration: “WHAT RIGHT HAVE YOU IN MY STEEL TRAP?”]
-
-“O certainly not, Sir,” said the pomposity, offended in his turn. “You
-are indubitably the best judge of your own privileges. I only beg to be
-allowed to remark, that where I felt I had so little right, I should
-hesitate to intrude myself.” So saying, he bowed very formally, and
-commenced his retreat to the cabin, while the Skipper pretended to
-examine the compass very minutely. In fact our Original had met with
-a chokepear. The fat man’s answer was too much for him, being framed
-on a principle clean contrary to his own peculiar system of logic. The
-more he tried to unravel its meaning, the more it got entangled. He
-didn’t like it, without knowing why; and he quite disagreed with it,
-though ignorant of its purport. He looked up at the funnel--and at
-the flag--and at the deck,--and down the companion stairs,--and then
-he wound up all by a long shake of his head, as mysterious as Lord
-Burleigh’s, at the astonished man at the wheel. His mind seemed made
-up. He buttoned his coat up to the very chin, as if to secure himself
-to himself, and never opened his lips again till the vessel touched the
-quay at Holyhead. The Captain then attempted a final apology--but it
-was interrupted in the middle.
-
-“Enough said, Sir--quite enough. If you’ve _only_ done your duty,
-you’ve no right to beg pardon--and I’ve no right to ask it. All I mean
-to say is, here am I in Holyhead instead of Dublin. I don’t care what
-that fat fellow says--who don’t understand his own rights. I stick to
-all I said before. I have no right to be up in the Moon, have I? Of
-course not--and I’ve no more right to stand on this present quay, than
-I have to be up in the Moon!”
-
-
-
-
-PATRONAGE.
-
-
-THE authenticity of the following letter will, probably, be disputed.
-The system of patronage to which it refers, is one very likely to shock
-the prejudices of serious sober-minded persons, who will naturally
-refuse to credit such practical anachronisms as the superannuation of
-sucklings. Goldsmith, it is true, has mentioned certain Fortunatuses
-as being born with silver ladles in their mouths; but it would be
-easier to suppose a child thus endowed with a whole service of plate
-than to fancy one invested with a service of years. The most powerful
-imagination would be puzzled to reconcile an Ex-Speakership with an
-Infant untaught to lisp; or to recognise a retired Bow-street runner
-in a nursling unable to walk. The existence of such very advanced
-posts for the Infantry is, however, affirmed; but with what truth,
-from my total want of political experience, I am unable to judge. Mr.
-Wordsworth, indeed, who says that “the child is father of the man,”
-seems to aim a quiz at the practice; and possibly the nautical phrase
-of “getting a good _birth_,” may refer to such prosperous nativities.
-For the rest, grown gentlemen have unquestionably been thrust,
-sometimes, into public niches to which they were as ill adapted as
-Mr. D.; the measures taken by Patrons not leading invariably, like
-Stultz’s, to admirable fits. But the Lady waits to speak her mind.
-
-[Illustration: JACK PUDDING.]
-
-
-(COPY).
-
-_To the Right Honourable_ LORD VISCOUNT ****, _&c., &c., &c.,
-Whitehall._
-
-    MAY IT PLEASE YOUR LORDSHIP,
-
-I humbly beg a thousand pardons and apologies for so great a liberty,
-and taking up time so valuable to the nation with the present
-application. Nothing short of absolute necessity could compel to such
-a course; but I make bold to say, a case of greater hardship never had
-the honour to be laid before official eyes. My poor husband, however,
-is totally unaware of my writing; as he would certainly forbid any such
-epistolary step, whether on my part or his own; though in point of
-fact the shattered state of his nerves is such as to preclude putting
-pen to paper if ever so inclined. But as a wife and a mother, it would
-not become me to preserve silence, with my husband perishing by inches
-before my eyes; and particularly when a nobleman of your Lordship’s
-rank would be sure to sympathise for an unfortunate gentleman, of birth
-and breeding, that after waiting above forty odd years for his rights,
-has only come at last into a public post that must, and will be his
-death!
-
-[Illustration: “ONE BLACK BALL EXCLUDES.”]
-
-To favour with the particulars, my husband has the honour to be
-related very distantly to the Peerage; and as Your Lordship knows, it
-is the privilege of Aristocracy to provide for all their connexions by
-comfortable public situations, which are sometimes enjoyed very early
-in life. To such Mr. D. had a hereditary right from his cradle, for
-his noble relative the Duke of----, was so condescending as to stand
-sponsor by proxy; and instead of the usual spoons, or a silver mug,
-made a promise to the Infant of some office suited to its tender age;
-for instance a superannuation, or the like, where there is nothing to
-do, but the salary to receive. In point of fact, the making the Baby
-a retired King’s Messenger was verbally undertaken at the font: but
-before the child could come into office His Grace unfortunately went
-out of power, by dying of apoplexy, leaving nothing but a promise,
-which a new ministry was unjust and ungrateful enough not to make
-good. In this shocking manner, Your Lordship, was my husband thrown
-upon the world, without proper provision according to his station and
-prospects, and was degraded to the necessity of his own exertions for
-support, till his fortieth year, when the new Duke thought proper to
-stir in his behalf. The truth is, a severe illness had left Mr. D.’s
-mind and nerves in such a pitiful shattered state, as to make him unfit
-for any business whatever, except public affairs; and accordingly
-it became the duty of his friends to procure him some post under
-government. So a proper application was made to his Grace, and through
-his influence and the fortunate circumstance of an election at the
-time, Mr. D. was appointed to the dreadful situation he at present
-enjoys. Of course we entirely acquit His Grace, who never set eyes on
-my husband in his life, and therefore could not be expected to know
-the precise state of his constitution; but I appeal to Your Lordship,
-whether it was proper patronage for a man shattered in mind and nerves,
-and subject to tremors, and palpitations, and bodily shocks of all
-sorts, to be made a Superintendent of Powder-Mills, with the condition
-of living attached to the works?
-
-For my own part, Your Lordship, I looked on the Duke’s letter of
-congratulations as neither more nor less than my poor husband’s
-death-warrant. Indeed he was so dreadfully alarmed himself, as to be
-quite distressing to witness. He did nothing, the whole afternoon,
-but walk up and down the room, shaking his head at himself in the
-looking-glass, or looking up at the ceiling, and muttering, as if he
-was already exploding sky high along with the Mills. But a refusal
-was out of the question, as it would have afforded his Grace too good
-an excuse for neglecting our interests for the future. To aggravate
-the case, the very day after our taking possession, there was what is
-called a blow at the works, and though so trifling as only to carry a
-roof off a shed, it struck a cord on Mr. D.’s nerves that has never
-done vibrating ever since. I do not exaggerate to say, that if he had
-been struck with the palsy and St. Vitus, both at once, he could not
-have showed more corporeal agitation. He trembled in every limb like an
-aspen tree; while his eyes rolled, and his head went from side to side,
-like the China Mandarin’s; besides scouring up and down stairs, and
-rushing out of doors and in again, and trying all the chairs but could
-not sit any where, and stamping, and muttering, and dancing about, till
-I really expected he would scramble up the walls of the room, and fly
-across the ceiling, like our tortoiseshell cat in her fits. If I lived
-to Methusalem, Your Lordship, I should never forget it! Unluckily,
-being new to his office, a mistaken notion of duty possessed him that
-he ought not to quit the spot; indeed he solemnly declared, that if a
-blow was to take place in his absence, he would rather commit his own
-suicide than face the report of it in the newspapers, which had already
-indulged in some seditious sneers at his appointment. All that could be
-done, therefore, was to pack off Lucy, and Emily and Eliza, on week’s
-visits among friends; myself remaining behind, as a wife’s proper post,
-near my poor husband; but on the discomfortable condition of keeping
-under ground in the cellar, because gunpowder in convulsions always
-blasts upwards. What my feelings were, as we are troubled with rats,
-Your Lordship may suppose; particularly when Mr. D. was officially
-called upon to inspect the damage; and never shall I forget his gashly
-appearance when he returned from his awful task! He was literally as
-white as a sheet; and totally incapable to get out a word, till he had
-swallowed three whole glasses of brandy! That settled his reason,--but
-it was only to tell me that lie had scraped and grazed the skin off
-every nubble of his back-bone, by a bad fall from a ladder, which he
-had attempted to come down in wooden safety shoes. Such, Your Lordship,
-was our miserable day; and it brought as wretched a night. Bed would
-not be heard of--and we set up in two easy chairs, shuddering with
-fright and cold, being December, and every door and window thrown wide
-open, to give a thorough vent through the house, in case of another
-shock. For Mr. D. was unfortunately possessed that one blow always
-leads to another; and what with fancying flying sparks, for it was
-starlight, and sniffing fire, he had worked himself up, before morning,
-into a high fever and a light head. The nearest medical man was obliged
-to be called in--and he had to give frightful doses of laudanum before
-Mr. D.’s nerves could be lulled into a startlish sort of doze;--and at
-waking, he was ordered to drink the strongest stimuluses; as indeed are
-in use to the present time. But this continual brandy, brandy, brandy,
-as Your Lordship knows, is a dreadful remedy; though, as my poor
-husband says, he cannot fill up his place without its help. At times
-I could almost believe, tho’ I would not breathe such a thing except
-to Your Lordship, that between the stimuluses, and the delirium, and
-the whole shock to the system, Mr. D. is a little beside his senses.
-The mad Doctors do say, that we are all, every one of us, crazy on a
-certain subject; and if such is the case, there can be no doubt that my
-husband’s weak point is explosions, the extravagance of his precautions
-making him an everlasting torment to himself as well as to all about
-him. Of course it is to his disadvantage, and magnifies his terrors,
-not to have been brought regularly up to the business; not that he
-receives much comfort from those who have, for he says custom and
-habit have made them so daring and hardened, that they would not mind
-playing at snap-dragon in the Magazine, or grinding their knives on the
-millstone that crushes the gunpowder into grains.
-
-[Illustration: BAT AND BAWL.]
-
-Since the above accident we have had, thank goodness, no more blows;
-but, as Your Lordship is aware, a first impression will stick by us
-for all our lives to come. At the best of times, let my husband be
-reading, or writing, or eating his dinner, or in bed, or what not, the
-exploding notion will come across him like a flash of lightning; as
-for instance last Friday was a week. Mr. and Mrs. Trotter had dropped
-in to tea; after which we had a rubber; and were all very comfortable,
-my husband and me just in the nine holes, when all of a sudden there
-was a fall of something and a scream. Up jumps Mr. D. of course,
-chucking his cards here, there, and every where, and calling a blow! a
-blow!--and as usual Emily and Lucy and Eliza and me rushed off to the
-coal-cellar, while Mrs. T. went into a fit. It is true, by the blessing
-of Providence, it was only the Housemaid letting her pail fall to
-screech at a bat; but what is very disagreeable, the Trotters are old
-friends, and have declined to set another foot within our doors. As for
-servants, it is next to impossible to keep one about me; and as Your
-Lordship’s own Lady will confirm, there is nothing more unpleasant to
-a Mistress of a House than to be continually changing. But nine out
-of ten prefer giving warning, to attending to so many punctiliums as
-are laid down; and those that are willing to stay, break through so
-many of the rules, that I am obliged to discharge them, to prevent Mr.
-D. being ruffled by doing it himself. Besides it adds considerably to
-servants’ work, to have chimneys swept so often as once a week,--and
-moreover, Mr. D. insists on keeping all flints and steels, and tinder,
-and matches, in his own bed-room, so that the housemaid has to go
-to him every morning for her lights. He is just as particular about
-extinguishing at night; and I lost the best cook I ever had, through
-her sitting up in her bed-room to mend her stays, though she might have
-known Mr. D. would come in to put her out--all of which is extremely
-unpleasant, and to me in particular.
-
-[Illustration: PRESSURE FROM WITHOUT.]
-
-These, Your Lordship, are serious domestic evils; and I wish I could
-say they were confined to the house. But the workmen at the Mills
-are so ungrateful as to hate my husband for the over care he obliges
-them to take of their own lives; and make no secret of wanting his
-removal, by trying to torment him into resignation. Not a day passes
-without squabbles about smoking, for Mr. D. is apt to sniff tobacco,
-and insists on searching pockets for pipes, which the labourers one and
-all decline; and besides scuffles, there have been several pay offs on
-the spot. The consequence is ill will and bad blood to their superior,
-and it is become a standing practical joke to play upon the family
-feelings and fears. I have twice suffered all the disagreeables of
-escaping from nothing at all in my night dress, exposed to rheumatism,
-and the natives of a low neighbourhood; indeed only last Sunday the
-fire bell was rung by nobody, and no wind at all to speak of. Another
-party at enmity is Doctor Worral and all his establishment; because Mr.
-D. felt it his public duty to have the Doctor up before a Justice, for
-allowing his Young Gentlemen to send up fire-balloons. We had one day
-of dreadful excitement on my husband’s part, through a wicked little
-wretch of a pupil flashing the sunshine into the Mill with a bit of
-looking-glass; and of course we are indebted for the Swing letters we
-receive to the same juvenile quarters. To make bad worse, Mr. D. takes
-them all for Gospel, and the extra watchings, and patrollings, and
-precautions, after getting a threatening notice, are enough to wear
-out all our hearts. As regards the School, I am ready to agree that it
-is too near the Works; and to tell the truth, I shake in my shoes as
-much as Mr. D., every fifth of November, at each squib and cracker that
-goes off. On the same score our own sons are an everlasting misery to
-us when they are at home; which they seldom are, poor fellows, on that
-account. But if there is one thing above another that boys delight
-to play with, it is gunpowder; and being at the very fountainhead,
-Your Lordship may conceive the constant care it is to prevent their
-getting at it, and what is worse, not always crowned with success.
-Indeed even more innocent playthings are obliged to be guarded against;
-for as their father says, “a little brat, just breeched, may strike
-light enough to blow up a whole neighbourhood, through only spinning a
-peg-tog in a paved yard.”
-
-Such, your Lordship, is our present melancholy state. I have not dwelt,
-as I might do, on expenses, such as the dresses that are spoiled in
-the coal-cellar; the paying months’ wages instead of warnings; nor
-the trays upon trays of glass and china that are chucked down, as the
-way the servants always empty their hands when making their escapes
-from my husband’s false alarms. Sometimes it’s a chair falls overhead;
-or the wind slams the back door; or a smell of burnt wood from the
-kitchen; or the ironing-blanket; or fat catched; or fall of soot; or
-a candle-snuff; or a smoky coal; or, as I have known before now, only
-the smell of the drains; with a hundred other little things that will
-spring up in families, take what care you will. I ought not to forget
-thunder-storms, which are another source of trouble; for, besides
-seeing a dozen fanciful flashes for one real one, it is the misfortune
-of Mr. D. not to put faith in conductors, or, to use his own words, “in
-Franklin, philosophy, and fiddlesticks,--and a birch rod as likely to
-frighten away lightning as an iron one.” In the meantime, through the
-constant frights and flurries, I begin to find my own nerves infected
-by bad example, and getting into startlish habits; and my daughter
-Lucy, who was always delicate, seems actually going into a poor low
-way. Agreeable society might do much to enliven our spirits; but my
-husband is become very shy of visitors, ever since Captain Gower was so
-inconsiderate as to walk in, one foggy night, with a lighted cigar in
-his mouth. In fact he quite sets his face against the male sex: for, if
-they do not smoke cigars, he says, and carry lucifers, they strut on
-their iron heels and flourish about with iron-pointed walking-sticks
-and umbrellas. All which, Your Lordship, is extremely hard on myself
-and daughters, who, like all young people, are fond of a little gaiety;
-but the very utmost they are allowed, is a single quadrille party at
-Christmas, and then they are all obliged to dance in list shoes.
-
-[Illustration: A SET-OFF IN ACCOUNT.]
-
-I humbly trust to Your Lordship’s liberality, and goodness of heart, to
-view the particulars of the above melancholy statement with attentive
-consideration. As it may occur to inquire how we have suffered so
-long without complaining, I beg to inform Your Lordship, that, being
-such a time of profound peace, we have lived on from year to year in
-the hope that no more ammunition would be required; and consequently
-the place would become a comfortable sinecure. But it appears that
-Spain and Portugal, and other countries, have gone to war on condition
-of being supplied with gunpowder; and accordingly, to our bitter
-disappointment, the works are as vigorous as ever. Your Lordship will
-admit the hardship of such a cruel position to a man of Mr. D.’s very
-peculiar constitution; and I do hope and trust will also regard his
-interests with a favourable eye, in consideration of his long-standing
-claims upon the country. What his friends most desire for him is, some
-official situation,--of course with a sufficient income to support
-his consequence, and a numerous family,--but without any business
-attached to it, or only as much as might help to amuse his mind for
-one or two hours in the day. Such a removal, considering my husband’s
-unfitness for anything else, could occasion no sort of injury to the
-public service; particularly as his vacancy would be so easy to fill
-up. There are hundreds and thousands of land and sea officers on
-half pay, who have been used to popping, and banging, and blowing up
-rockets and bomb-shells, all their lives; and would, therefore, not
-object to the Powder Mills; especially as the salary is handsome, with
-a rent-free house and garden, coal and candles, and all the other
-little perquisites that belong to public posts. As regards ourselves
-on the contrary, any interest is preferable to the gunpowder interest;
-and I take upon myself to say, that Mr. D. would be most proud and
-happy to receive any favour from Your Lordship’s administration; as
-well as answering for his pursuing any line of political principles,
-conservative or unconservative, that might be chalked out. Any such act
-of patronage would command the eternal gratitude of Mr. D., self, and
-family; and, repeating a thousand apologies for thus addressing, I beg
-leave to remain
-
-    Your Lordship’s most humble, obedient, and devoted servant,
-
-    LUCY EMILY DEXTER.
-
-P.S.--Since writing the above, I am sorry to inform your Lordship, that
-we have had another little blow, and Mr. D.’s state is indescribable.
-He is more shaken than ever, and particularly through going all down
-the stairs in three jumps. He was sitting reading at the time, and, as
-he thinks, in his spectacles; but as they are not to be found, he is
-possessed that they have been driven into his head.
-
-[Illustration: LORD, HOW YOU MADE ME JUMP.]
-
-
-
-
-ANIMAL MAGNETISM.
-
-    “Charlatan is rising in public favour, and has many _backers_ who
-    _book_ him to win.”--_Sporting Intelligence._
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-OF all the signs of the times--considering them literally as
-_signs_, and the public literally as “a _public_”--there are none
-more remarkable than the Hahnemann’s Head,--the Crown and Compasses,
-devoted to Gall and Spurzheim’s entire,--and the Cock and Bull, that
-hangs out at the House of Call for Animal Magnetizers. The last
-concern, especially--a daring, glaring, flaring, gin-palace-like
-establishment--is a moral phenomenon. That a tap dispensing a raw,
-heady, very unrectified article, should obtain any custom whatever,
-in a reputed genteel and well-lighted neighbourhood, seems quite
-impossible; yet such is the incomprehensible fact;--respectable
-parties, scientific men, and even physicians, in good practice in
-all other respects, have notoriously frequented the bar, from which
-they have issued again, walking all sorts of ways at once, or more
-frequently falling asleep on the steps, but still talking such
-“rambling skimble-skamble stuff” as would naturally be suggested by
-the incoherent visions of a drunken man. Such exhibitions, however are
-comparatively rare in London to their occurrence in Paris, which city
-has always taken the lead of our own capital in matters of novelty.
-It is asserted by a good authority, that at a French concern, in the
-same line, no less than seventy-eight “medical men, and sixty-three
-other very intelligent individuals,” became thoroughly muzzy and
-mystified, and so completely lost all “_clairvoyance_” of their own,
-that they applied to an individual to read a book and a letter to
-them; to tell them the hour on their own watches; to mention the pips
-on the cards; and by way of putting the state of their “intuitive
-foresight” beyond question, they actually appealed to the _back_sight
-of a man who was sound asleep! A bout on so large a scale has not been
-attempted, hitherto, in the English metropolis; but as all fashions
-transplanted from Paris flourish vigorously in our soil, it is not
-improbable that we may yet see a Meeting of the College of Physicians
-rendered very how-come-you-so indeed by an excess of Mesmer’s
-“particular.” The influence of such an example could not fail to have
-a powerful influence on all classes; and a pernicious narcotic would
-come into general use; the notorious effect of which is to undermine
-the reason of its votaries, and rob them of their common senses. To
-avert such a national evil, surely demands the timely efforts of
-our philanthropists; and above all, of those persons who have set
-their faces against the Old Tom--not of Lincoln, but of London--and
-in their zeal for the public sobriety, aim at even converting the
-brewers’ kilderkins into pumpkins.--Seriously, might not the Temperance
-Societies extend the sphere of their operations by a whole hemisphere,
-and perhaps with equal advantage to mankind, by attacking mental
-dram-drinking, as well as the bodily tippling of ardent spirits? The
-bewildered rollings, reelings, and idiotic effusions of mere animal
-drunkenness can hardly be more degrading to rational human beings,
-than the crazy toddlings and twaddlings of a bemused mind, whether
-only maudlin with infinitesimal doses of quackery, or rampant to mad
-staggers with the _lush_ious compounds and Devil’s Elixirs of the
-Mesmerian Distillery. Take the wildest freaks of the most fuddled,
-muddled, bepuddled soaker,--such as “trying to light his pipe at
-a pump,”--attempting to wind up a plug with his watch-key,--or
-requesting, from a damp bed in the gutter, to be tucked in,--and are
-they a bit, or a whit, or a jot, or a what-not, more absurd, more
-extravagant, or more indicative of imbecility of reason, than the
-vagary of a somnambulist, gravely going through the back-gammon of
-reading Back’s Journal, or a back-number of the Retrospective Review,
-through the back of his head?
-
-[Illustration: “I WAS TOLD I SHOULD FIND HERE SOME TRAP ROCKS!”]
-
-In case the Great Water Companies alluded to should think proper to
-adopt the foregoing suggestions, the following genuine letters are
-placed very much at their service, as materials to be worked up into
-Tracts:--
-
-
-(COPY.)
-
-_To Mr. Robert_ HOLLAND, _Linen-Draper, No. 194, Tottenham
-Court Road, London._
-
-    DEAR BOB,
-
-Hoping you are well, and well-doing, we have heard such wonderful
-accounts in our parts lately about animal magnetizing, without any
-clear notion what it is.
-
-My own notion is, it must be something new of my Lord
-Spenser’s--Althorp as was--who was always very curious about his beasts.
-
-Others do say the Duke of Bedford, with a fresh cattle show--nobody
-knows.
-
-Now you are just at the fountain-head to learn, and as most of us down
-here is more or less engaged in breeding stock, it would be a main
-thing to be put up to the secret at its first start.
-
-[Illustration: WRINGING OUT THE OLD YEAR.]
-
-Also whether it is expensive to buy--and who found it out--and if
-likely to do away with oilcake and mangel-wurzel, and such like
-particulars.
-
-Praise be blest, we are all stout and hearty, except your poor aunt,
-who died three year ago. Which is all the news at present from,
-
-    Dear Bob,
-    Your loving Uncle,
-    REUBEN OXENHAM.
-
-
-(COPY.)
-
-_To Mr. Reuben_ OXENHAM, _Grazier, Grasslands, near
-Lincolnshire._
-
-    DEAR UNCLE,
-
-I was agreeably surprised by your breaking silence; for I had made up
-my mind you was a distrest farmer gone off swan hopping (excuse the
-joke) to Swan River, or to get settled among the Dutch boars and lions
-at the Cape of Good Hope. Thank heaven such is not the case; though
-damped with my dear aunt’s going off. I little thought, poor soul! the
-why and wherefore my goose three Christmases ago was the last! But we
-must all be cut off some day or other, which is a religious consolation
-for the remnants that are left behind.
-
-[Illustration: SWAN-HOPPING.]
-
-I have examined, as you desired, a sample of animal magnetism; which
-turns out to be the reverse of every thing you expect. Indeed such
-might have been anticipated by a little forethought on the subject.
-There is nothing to describe about animals to such as you, that deal
-in them of all qualities; but it is quite likely that you have forgot
-all about magnets, since the days of your youth. But perhaps, when
-they are named to you, your memory may serve to recollect little bone
-boxes, at sixpence a piece, with a blackamoor’s head atop, and a
-little bar of philosopher’s steel inside, that points out the north,
-and sets a needle dancing like mad. It likewise picks up emery, and
-sticks fast to the blade of a knife. But that is all its powers are
-competent to--and of course on too small a scale to have any dancing,
-or lifting, or sticking effect on objects so big as bullocks, or even
-a pig, or a sheep. Accordingly, you will not be surprised to hear that
-animal magnetism has nothing at all to do with beasts or load-stones
-either, but is all of a piece with juggling, quacksalving, and
-mountebanking, such as universal physic, spitting Coventry ribbons,
-tumbling, and posturing, thimble-rig, and the like fabrics. One of the
-principal tricks is sending people off to sleep against their wills;
-not so new a trick though, but it has been heard of years and years
-ago at Bow Street; and easy enough to perform any day, with a pint of
-porter,--provided one was rogue enough to want to hocus-pocus the money
-out of other people’s pockets into one’s own. To come to the point,
-there’s an outlandish Count set up in it at the west end; and no doubt
-will realise a fortune. He has his carriage-people for customers, as
-well as Howel and James; indeed, I have heard of the Somebodies as well
-as Nobodies running after common fortune-tellers’ tales, and not too
-high to be above going up into their back garrets. Some say he is a
-Frenchman, others say a German; but the last for choice, for he smokes
-enough to drive all the rats out of the neighbourhood. Besides, the
-Germans, I’m told, will believe anything, provided it’s impossible;
-which is some excuse for their wanting other people to give the same
-long credits; and besides, Germans as well as French, and indeed all
-other foreigners, for that matter, though ever such honest people in
-the main; yet when they _do_ turn rogues at English expense, they
-invariably go more than the whole hog, namely, boar, sow, sucking
-pigs and all. So I determined to go wide awake, and to keep my eyes
-open, too, by not taking bit or sup in the house, if offered ever
-so politely. It is surely not showing disrespect to hospitality, to
-object to hocussed victuals and drinks. I might have spared my fears,
-however; for there was nothing provided but the ledgerdemain, &c., and
-that was charged a guinea for, which you can repay at convenience. I
-preferred to see somebody else conjured before me; so another patient
-was taken first. She was a fine strapping young woman enough, dressed
-half and half between a fine lady and a servantmaid; but as sly-looking
-a baggage as you could select from an assortment of gypseys; and unless
-her face belied her, quite capable of scratching a Cock Lane ghost.
-Indeed something came across me that I had seen her before; and if
-memory don’t deceive, it was at some private theatricals contrary to
-law. For certain she could keep her countenance; for if the outlandish
-figure of a doctor, with his queer faces, had postured, and pawed,
-and poked towards _me_, with his fingers, for all the world like the
-old game of “My grandmother sends you a staff, and you’re neither to
-smile nor to laugh,” as he did to her, I should have bursted, to a
-dead certainty; instead of going off, as she did, into an easy sleep.
-As soon as she was sound, the Count turned round to me and the company
-with his broken English--“Ladies and gentlemens,” says he, “look here
-at dis yoong maidens, Mizz Charlot Ann Elizabet Martin”--for that is
-his way of talking. “Wid my magnetismuses I tro her into von state of
-sombamboozleism”--or something to that effect. “Mizz Charlot Ann, dou
-art a slip.” “As fast as a church, Mister Count,” says she, talking
-and hearing as easy as broad awake. “Ferry goot,” says he. “Now I take
-dis boke,--Missis Glasse Cokery,--and I shall make de maidens read
-som little of him wid her back. Dere he is bytween her sholders. Mizz
-Charlot Ann, what you see now mit your eyes turned de wrong way for to
-look?” “Why, then,” says she, “Mr. Count, I see quite plain a T, and
-an O. Then comes R, and O, and S, and T--and the next word is H, and
-A, and I, and R.” “Ferry goot,” tries the Count over again. “Dat is
-to rost de hare. Ladies and gentlemens, you all here? As Gott is my
-shudge, so is here in de boke. Now den, Mizz Charlot Ann, vons more.
-Vot you taste in your mouse?” “Why, then, Master,” says Charlotte Ann,
-“as sure as fate, I taste sweet herbs chopped up small!” “Ferry goot
-indeed!--bot what mor by sides de sweet herrubs?” “Why,” says she,
-“it’s a relish of salt, and pepper, and mace,--and, let me see--there’s
-a flavour of currant jelly.” “Besser and besser!” cries the Count.
-“Ladies and gentlemens, are not dese voonderfools? You shall see every
-wart of it in de print. Mizz Charlot Ann, vot you feel now?” “Lawk a
-mercy, Mister Count,” says she, “there’s a sort of stuffy feel, so
-there is, in my inside!” “Yaw! like van fool belly! Ferry goot! Now you
-feel vot?” “Feel! Mister Count?” says she--“why I don’t feel nothing at
-all--the stuffiness is gone clean away!” “Yaw, my shild!” says he. “Dat
-is by cause I take avay de cokery boke from your two sholders. Ladies
-and gentlemens, dese is grand powers of magnetismus! Ach himmel! As
-Hamlet say, dere is more in our philosofies dan dere is in de heaven or
-de earth! Our mutter Nature is so fond to hide her face! Bot von adept,
-so as me, can lift up a whale!”
-
-[Illustration: SLEEPING DRAUGHTS.]
-
-To shorten a long story, the sombamboosleism lasted for two hours;
-while Miss Charlot Ann told fortunes in her sleep, and named people’s
-inward complaints, and prescribed for them with her eyes shut. Mine
-was dropsy; and I was to take antimonious wine three times a-day, to
-throw the water off my stomach. So, if you like to ask your apothecary,
-or the parish doctor, they will be able to tell you whether it looks
-like proper practice or the reverse. For my own part, I mean to
-suspend myself till I feel more symptoms; and in the meantime I have
-experimented on myself so far as to try behind my back with the Ready
-Reckoner. But I could not even see the book, much less make out a
-figure. To be sure I was broad awake, but it stands to reason that the
-circumstance only gave the better chance in its favour--at least it
-has always been reckoned so with a book held the proper natural way.
-I was the more particular with the book-work, because it looked like
-the master-key to let you into the whole house:--for no doubt, if you
-can do _that_ trick, you can do all the rest, and have a hare dressed
-between your shoulders as easily as a blister. But to my mind it is all
-sham Abraham; or the little boys that go every day with whole satchels
-full of books at their backs would know rather more about them than
-they do generally at leaving off school.
-
-And now, Uncle, I have explained to you all about Animal Magnetism;
-and, says you, there are many things that come by names they have no
-right to, without going to Scotland, where you know they call a pitcher
-a pig. So it is very lucky on the whole, that you wrote to me, instead
-of posting up to London on a fool’s errand,--as did a respectable
-Lancashire grazing gentleman, the other day, in the newspapers, who
-was hoaxed all the way up to town, by a false notion that Animal
-Magnifying, as he called it, was some new, cheap, and quick way of
-fatting cattle. It will maybe turn out quite as deceitful an article
-as to its other qualities; and in that case, if I had the luck to be
-a magistrate, I would cold pig the sleeping partners with Cold Bath
-Fields and send off the active ones, to take a walk at a cart’s tail,
-with something they could feel, if they could not read it, on their
-backs and shoulders. That’s how I would measure out the law, if I
-was Lord Chief Justice. In which sentiments I conclude, with love
-to yourself, and all my cousins, if I have any living--with my best
-condolences for my poor late Aunt. As to business, I have only broken
-twice as yet; which is doing pretty well, considering the hard times
-and the state of trade. Wishing you the like prosperity, with health,
-and every other blessing, I remain, dear Uncle,
-
-    Your affectionate nephew,
-    ROBERT HOLLAND.
-
-P.S. Since the foregoing, I have discussed the subject with a
-neighbour, a Veterany Surgeon; and he says it is all very well for the
-old men and women Physicians, but won’t go down with the Horse Doctors.
-“However,” says he, “if you are bent on trying it, I will give you a
-receipt. Take a two-year old full blood colt, half broke, or not broke
-at all--if vicious, so much the better. Shoe him behind with a couple
-of stout horse-shoe loadstones, and then stand convenient, and take
-a tug or two at his tail, till you feel him begin to operate. That’s
-Animal Magnetism, and will do you quite as much good or harm as the
-other new kick, and save you all the fees besides.”
-
-[Illustration: SOMNAMBULISM.]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: A MAIDEN ASSLEP.]
-
-
-
-
-THE FORLORN SHEPHERD’S COMPLAINT.
-
-AN UNPUBLISHED POEM, FROM SIDNEY.
-
-
-IT may be necessary to bespeak the indulgent consideration of the
-reader, for the appearance of the following Curiosity in such a work.
-The truth is, the pages of the Comic Annual naturally present to me
-the most obvious means of making the Poem known; betides, as it were,
-offering personal security for my own belief in its authenticity.
-And, considering my literary credit as so pledged, I do not hesitate
-to affirm that I think the effusion in question may confidently be
-referred to Sidney: and even--on the internal evidence of its pastoral
-character--to the Arcadia. The verses have never till now appeared in
-print. The lover of Old English Poetry would vainly hunt for it in any
-edition extant of the works of Sir Philip; and, probably, the family
-records and remains at Penshurst might be searched to as little purpose
-for a copy in MS. From the extreme quaintness of the original, which
-would have required the help of a glossary to render it generally
-intelligible, I have thought it advisable to translate many of the
-phrases into more current language; but scrupulously preserving the
-_sense_ of the text. Enough of the peculiar style, however, still
-remains, to aid in forming a judgment of the author’s æra. As for the
-apparent incongruity of the double vocation ascribed to the tuneful
-Swain in the Poem, besides abundant classical evidence that the
-Corydons of ancient times were often, also, heroes, or warriors, or
-adventurers, we have the positive contemporary testimony of modern
-travellers, that in those very pastures where the scene is laid, it
-is at this day the practice to entrust the charge of the flocks to
-personages who have formerly been engaged in the same perilous career
-as the “Forlorn Shepherd.” His lament, it will be seen, is full of
-regrets and stealing tears for the stirring times of Auld Lang Syne.
-
-
-THE FORLORN SHEPHERD’S COMPLAINT.
-
-    “Vell! Here I am--no Matter how it suits,
-    A-keeping Company with them dumb Brutes,
-    Old Park vos no bad Judge--confound his vig!
-    Of vot vood break the Sperrit of a Prig!
-
-    “The like of Me, to come to New Sow Wales
-    To go a-tagging arter Vethers’ Tails
-    And valk in Herbage as delights the Flock,
-    But stinks of Sweet Herbs vorser nor the Dock!
-
-    “To go to set this solitary Job
-    To Von whose Vork vos alvay in a Mob!
-    It’s out of all our Lines, for sure I am
-    Jack Shepherd even never kep a Lamb!”
-
-[Illustration: A PUBLIC DINNER.]
-
-    “I arn’t ashamed to say I sit and veep
-    To think of Seven Year of keepin Sheep,
-    The spooniest Beasts in Nater, all to Sticks,
-    And not a Votch to take for all their Ticks!
-
-    “If I’d fore-seed how Transports would turn out
-    To only Baa! and Botanize about,
-    I’d quite as leaf have had the t’other Pull,
-    And come to Cotton as to all this Vool!
-
-    “Von only happy moment I have had
-    Since here I come to be a Farmer’s Cad,
-    And then I cotch’d a vild Beast in a Snooze,
-    And pick’d her Pouch of three young Kangaroos!
-
-    “Vot chance have I to go to Race or Mill?
-    Or show a sneaking Kindness for a Till;
-    And as for Vashings, on a hedge to dry,
-    I’d put the Natives’ Linen in my Eye!
-
-    “If this whole Lot of Mutton I could scrag,
-    And find a Fence to turn it into Swag,
-    I’d give it all in Lonnon Streets to stand,
-    And if I had my pick, I’d say the Strand!
-
-    “But ven I goes, as maybe vonce I shall,
-    To my old crib to meet with Jack, and Sal,
-    I’ve been so gallows honest in this Place,
-    I shan’t not like to show my sheepish Face.
-
-    “It’s wery hard for nothing but a Box
-    Of Irish Blackguard to be keepin’ Flocks,
-    ’Mong naked Blacks, sich Savages to hus,
-    They’ve nayther got a Pocket nor a Pus.
-
-    “But Folks may tell their Troubles till they’re sick
-    To dumb brute Beasts,--and so I’ll cut my Stick!
-    And vot’s the Use a Feller’s Eyes to pipe
-    Vere von can’t borrow any Gemman’s Vipe?”
-
-[Illustration: OUT OF SIGHT OUT OF MIND.]
-
-
-
-
-ANACREONTIC.
-
-BY A FOOTMAN.
-
-
-    It’s wery well to talk in praise
-    Of Tea and Water-drinking ways,
-      In proper time and place;
-    Of sober draughts, so clear and cool,
-    Dipp’d out of a transparent pool
-      Reflecting heaven’s face.
-
-    Of babbling brooks, and purling rills,
-    And streams as gushes from the hills,
-      It’s wery well to talk;--
-    But what becomes of all sich schemes,
-    With ponds of ice, and running streams,
-      As doesn’t even walk?
-
-    When Winter comes with piercing cold,
-    And all the rivers, new or old,
-      Is frozen far and wide;
-    And limpid springs is solid stuff,
-    And crystal pools is hard enough
-      To skate upon and slide;--
-
-    What then are thirsty men to do,
-    But drink of ale, and porter too,
-      Champagne as makes a fizz;
-    Port, sherry, or the Rhenish sort,
-    And p’rhaps a drop of summut short--
-      The water-pipes is friz!
-
-
-
-
-
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-11), by Thomas Hood
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-<pre>
-
-Project Gutenberg's The Works of Thomas Hood; Vol. 02 (of 11), by Thomas Hood
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
-almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
-re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
-with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license
-
-
-Title: The Works of Thomas Hood; Vol. 02 (of 11)
-       Comic and Serious, in Prose and Verse, With All the Original
-              Illustrations
-
-Author: Thomas Hood
-
-Editor: Tom Hood
-        Frances Freeling Broderip (née Hood)
-
-Release Date: February 2, 2020 [EBook #61301]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WORKS OF THOMAS HOOD ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Jane Robins, Reiner Ruf, and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
-file was produced from images generously made available
-by The Internet Archive)
-
-
-
-
-
-
-</pre>
-
-
-<div class="transnote mbot3">
-
-<p class="s3 center"><b>Transcriber’s Notes</b></p>
-
-<p class="p0">This e-text is based on the print version of <cite>The
-Works of Thomas Hood, Vol. II,</cite> published in 1882. Inconsistent
-and uncommon spelling and hyphenation have been retained; punctuation
-and typographical errors have been corrected. Footnotes have been moved
-to the end of the sections in which their respective footnote anchors
-are situated.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="frontmatter">
-
-<p class="s1 center padtop3 break-before">HOOD’S OWN.</p>
-
-<h1><span class="s6">THE WORKS</span><br />
-<span class="s7">OF</span><br />
-THOMAS HOOD.</h1>
-
-<p class="s5 center mtop2">COMIC AND SERIOUS, IN PROSE AND VERSE, WITH ALL
-THE ORIGINAL ILLUSTRATIONS.</p>
-
-<p class="s5 center mtop3 mbot1">EDITED, WITH NOTES,<br />
-<span class="s3">BY HIS SON AND DAUGHTER.</span></p>
-
-<p class="s4 center padtop3 mbot2">VOL. II.</p>
-
-<p class="s4 center padtop5">LONDON:<br />
-WARD, LOCK, &amp; CO., WARWICK HOUSE,<br />
-<span class="s5">SALISBURY SQUARE, E.C.</span><br />
-<span class="s6">NEW YORK: 10 BOND STREET.</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[Pg iii]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="toc">
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      &nbsp;
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell s6 right">
-      PAGE
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      The Boy at the Nore
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#THE_BOY_AT_THE_NORE">1</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      The Run-Over
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#THE_RUN-OVER">4</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Johnsoniana
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#JOHNSONIANA">11</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      The Great Earthquake at Marylebone
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#THE_GREAT_EARTHQUAKE_AT_MARY-LE-BONE">16</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Ode to St. Swithin
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-            <a href="#ODE_TO_ST_SWITHIN">20</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      The Apparition. A True Story
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-            <a href="#i_024">24</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      A Blind Man
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#A_BLIND_MAN">28</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      The Supper Superstition. A Pathetic Ballad
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#THE_SUPPER_SUPERSTITION">30</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      A Snake-Snack
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#A_SNAKE-SNACK">33</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      A Storm at Hastings, and the Little Unknown
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#A_STORM_AT_HASTINGS">36</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Lines to a Lady on her Departure for India
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#LINES">45</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      The Nelson
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#THE_NELSON">48</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Sonnet to a Scotch Girl Washing Linen after her Country Fashion
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#i_051">51</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      My Apology
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#MY_APOLOGY">52</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Sonnet to a Decayed Seaman
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#i_054">54</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      The Great Conflagration
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#THE_GREAT_CONFLAGRATION">55</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Huggins and Duggins
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#HUGGINS_AND_DUGGINS">97</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Domestic Didactics. By an Old Servant
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#DOMESTIC_DIDACTICS">101</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Pain in a Pleasure-Boat. A Sea Eclogue
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#PAIN_IN_A_PLEASURE">107</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      A Spent Ball
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#A_SPENT_BALL">111</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Literary and Literal
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#LITERARY_AND_LITERAL">113</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[Pg iv]</a></span>
-      The Accident
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#THE_ACCIDENT">120</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Sonnet to Lord Wharncliffe, on his Game Bill
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#i_123">123</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Literary Reminiscences. No. I.
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#LITERARY_REMINISCENCES_I">124</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Ode to Perry, the Inventor of the Patent Perryan Pen
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#ODE_TO_PERRY">132</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Sketches on the Road
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#SKETCHES_ON_THE_ROAD">139</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      The Undying One
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#THE_UNDYING_ONE">144</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      A Gipsy Party
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#A_GIPSY_PARTY">148</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Cockle <i>v.</i> Cackle
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#COCKLE_v_CACKLE">157</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      A Lawyer’s Letter
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#A_LAWYERS_LETTER">162</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      The Sweep’s Complaint
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#i_167">167</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Letter from an Old Sportsman
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#LETTER_FROM_AN_OLD_SPORTSMAN">173</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      The Sub-Marine
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#THE_SUB-MARINE">179</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      The Island
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#i_182">182</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Dog-grel Verses. By a poor Blind
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#DOG-GREL_VERSES_BY_A_POOR_BLIND">188</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      The Kangaroos. A Fable
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#THE_KANGAROOS">193</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Literary Reminiscences. No. II.
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#LITERARY_REMINISCENCES_II">195</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      The Domestic Dilemma. A True Story from the German of Jean Paul Nemand
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#THE_DOMESTIC_DILEMMA">201</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Ode for the Ninth of November
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#ODE_FOR_THE_NINTH_OF_NOVEMBER">222</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Sonnet
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#SONNET">228</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Rondeau. (Extracted from a Well-known Annual)
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#RONDEAU">229</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      London Fashions for November. Remarks
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#LONDON_FASHIONS_FOR_NOVEMBER">230</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Symptoms of Ossification
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#SYMPTOMS_OF_OSSIFICATION">233</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      The Poacher. A Serious Ballad
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#THE_POACHER">234</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Sketches on the Road. The Sudden Death
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#SKETCHES_ON_THE_ROAD_SUDDEN_DEATH">237</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      I cannot Bear a Gun
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#i_252">252</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Trimmer’s Exercise for the Use of Children
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#TRIMMERS_EXERCISE">257</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Some Account of William Whiston
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#SOME_ACCOUNT_OF_WILLIAM_WHISTON">259</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      The Fox and the Hen. A Fable
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#THE_FOX_AND_THE_HEN">263</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      The Comet. An Astronomical Anecdote
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#THE_COMET">267</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Literary Reminiscences. No. III.
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#LITERARY_REMINISCENCES_III">270</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      The Ocean. Considered per se
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#THE_OCEAN">275</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Love and Lunacy
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#LOVE_AND_LUNACY">295</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Those Evening Bells. “I’d be a Parody.”
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#i_331">331</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Lines to a Friend at Cobham
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#i_332">332</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span>
-      The Quakers’ Conversazione
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#THE_QUAKERS_CONVERSAZIONE">333</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Sketches on the Road. The Morning Call
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#SKETCHES_ON_THE_ROAD_THE_MORNING_CALL">344</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      The Lament of Toby, the Learned Pig
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#i_348">348</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      To a Bad Rider
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#TO_A_BAD_RIDER">351</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      My Son and Heir
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#MY_SON_AND_HEIR">352</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Literary Reminiscences. No. IV.
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#LITERARY_REMINISCENCES_IV">358</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      The Carnaby Correspondence
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#i_395">395</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      A Rise at the Father of Angling
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#i_425">425</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Right and Wrong. A Sketch at Sea
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#RIGHT_AND_WRONG">431</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Patronage
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#PATRONAGE">440</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Animal Magnetism
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#i_453">452</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      The Forlorn Shepherd’s Complaint. An Unpublished Poem, from Sidney
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#i_464">464</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-  <div class="cssrow">
-    <div class="csscell">
-      Anacreontic. By a Footman
-    </div>
-    <div class="csscell right vab">
-      <a href="#ANACREONTIC">468</a>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_000a" name="i_000a">
-   <img class="mtop2" src="images/i_000a.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“HAVE I A WOTE FOR GRINNAGE?”</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p>
-
-<p class="s1 center mtop3">HOOD’S OWN:<br />
-
-<span class="s6">OR, LAUGHTER FROM YEAR TO YEAR.</span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_001" name="i_001">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_001.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">THE ISLE OF MAN.</p>
-</div>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_BOY_AT_THE_NORE">THE BOY AT THE NORE.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza-heading">
-      <div class="verse">“Alone I did
-     it!&mdash;Boy!”&mdash;C<span class="smaller">ORIOLANUS</span>.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">I <span class="smaller">SAY</span>, little Boy at the Nore,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Do you come from the small Isle of Man?</div>
-      <div class="verse">Why, your history a mystery must be,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Come tell us as much as you can,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft9">Little Boy at the Nore!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">You live it seems wholly on water,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Which your Gambier calls living in clover;&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">But how comes it, if that is the case,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">You’re eternally half seas over,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft9">Little Boy at the Nore?</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">While you ride&mdash;while you dance&mdash;while you float&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Never mind your imperfect orthography;&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">But give us as well as you can,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Your watery auto-biography,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft9">Little Boy at the Nore!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft2">LITTLE BOY AT THE NORE LOQUITUR.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">I’m the tight little Boy at the Nore,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">In a sort of sea negus I dwells;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Half and half ’twixt saltwater and Port,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">I’m reckon’d the first of the swells&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft9">I’m the Boy at the Nore!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">I lives with my toes to the flounders,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And watches through long days and nights;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Yet, cruelly eager, men look&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">To catch the first glimpse of my lights&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft9">I’m the Boy at the Nore.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">I never gets cold in the head,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">So my life on salt water is sweet,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">I think I owes much of my health</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">To being well used to wet feet&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft9">As the Boy at the Nore.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">There’s one thing, I’m never in debt:</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Nay!&mdash;I liquidates more than I <i>oughtor</i><a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a>;</div>
-      <div class="verse">So the man to beat Cits as goes by,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">In keeping the head above water,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft9">Is the Boy at the Nore.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">I’ve seen a good deal of distress,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Lots of Breakers in Ocean’s Gazette;</div>
-      <div class="verse">They should do as I do&mdash;rise o’er all;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Aye, a good floating capital get,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft9">Like the Boy at the Nore!</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_003" name="i_003">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_003.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">THE BUOY AT THE NORE.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">I’m a’ter the sailor’s own heart,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And cheers him, in deep water rolling;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And the friend of all friends to Jack Junk,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Ben Backstay, Tom Pipes, and Tom Bowling,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft9">Is the Boy at the Nore!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Could I e’er but grow up, I’d be off</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">For a week to make love with my wheedles;</div>
-      <div class="verse">If the tight little Boy at the Nore</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Could but catch a nice girl at the Needles,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft7">We’d have <i>two</i> at the Nore!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">They thinks little of sizes on water,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">On big waves the tiny one skulks,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">While the river has Men of War on it&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Yes&mdash;the Thames is oppress’d with great Hulks,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft7">And the Boy’s at the Nore!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">But I’ve done&mdash;for the water is heaving</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Round my body, as though it would sink it!</div>
-      <div class="verse">And I’ve been so long pitching and tossing,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">That sea-sick&mdash;you’d hardly now think it&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft9">Is the Boy at the Nore!</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_004" name="i_004">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_004.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">AS SAFE AS THE BANK.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnotes">
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> A word caught from some American Trader in passing.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_RUN-OVER">THE RUN-OVER.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p>“D<span class="smaller">O</span> you see that ’ere gentleman in the buggy, with the clipt un?”
-enquired Ned Stocker, as he pointed with his whip at a chaise, some
-fifty yards in advance. “Well, for all he’s driving there so easy like,
-and comfortable, he once had a gig-shaft, and that’s a fact, driv right
-through his body!”</p>
-
-<p>“Rather him than me,” drawled a passenger on the box, without removing
-his cigar from his mouth.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s true for all that,” returned Ned, with a nod of his head equal
-to an affidavit.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> “The shaft run in under one armpit, right up to the
-tug, and out again at t’other besides pinning him to the wall of the
-stable&mdash;and that’s a thing such as don’t happen every day.”</p>
-
-<p>“Lucky it don’t,” said the smoker, between two puffs of his cigar.</p>
-
-<p>“It an’t likely to come often,” resumed Ned, “let alone the getting
-over it afterwards, which is the wonderfullest part of it all. To
-see him bowling along there, he don’t look like a man pinned to a
-stable-wall with the rod through him, right up to the tug&mdash;do he?”</p>
-
-<p>“Can’t say he does,” said the smoker.</p>
-
-<p>“For my part,” said Ned, “or indeed any man’s part, most people in such
-a case would have said, it’s all up with me, and good reason why, as
-I said afore, with a shaft clean through your inside, right up to the
-tug&mdash;and two inches besides into the stable wall, by way of a benefit.
-But somehow he always stuck to it&mdash;not the wall, you know&mdash;but his own
-opinion, that he should get over it&mdash;he was as firm as flints about
-that&mdash;and sure enough the event came off exactly.”</p>
-
-<p>“The better for him,” said the smoker.</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t know the rights on it,” said Ned, “for I warn’t there&mdash;but
-they do say when he was dextricated from the rod, there was a regular
-tunnel through him, and in course the greatest danger was of his
-ketching cold in the lungs from the thorough draught.”</p>
-
-<p>“Nothing more likely,” said the fumigator.</p>
-
-<p>“Howsomever,” continued Ned,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> “he was cured by Dr. Maiden of Stratford,
-who give him lots of physic to provoke his stomach, and make him eat
-hearty; and by taking his feeds well,&mdash;warm mashes at first, and then
-hard meat, in course of time he filled up. Nobody hardly believed it,
-though, when they see him about on his legs again&mdash;myself for one&mdash;but
-he always said he would overcome it, and he was as good as his word. If
-that an’t game, I don’t know what is.”</p>
-
-<p>“No more do I,” said the man with the Havannah.</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t know the philosophy on it,” resumed Ned, “but it’s a remark of
-mine about recovering, if a man says he will, he will,&mdash;and if he says
-he won’t, he won’t&mdash;you may book that for certain. Mayhap a good pluck
-helps the wounds in healing kindly,&mdash;but so it is, for I’ve observed
-it. You’ll see one man with hardly a scratch on his face, and says he,
-I’m done for&mdash;and he turns out quite correct&mdash;while another as is cut
-to ribbons will say&mdash;never mind,&mdash;I’m good for another round, and so he
-proves, particularly if he’s one of your small farmers. I’ll give you a
-reason why.”</p>
-
-<p>“Now then,” said the smoker.</p>
-
-<p>“My reason is,” replied Ned, “that they’re all as hard as
-nails&mdash;regular pebbles for game. They take more thrashing than their
-own corn, and that’s saying something. They’re all fortitude, and
-nothing else. Talk about punishment! nothing comes amiss to ’em, from
-butt-ends of whips and brickbats down to bludgeons loaded with lead.
-You can’t hurt their feelings. They’re jist like badgers, the more you
-welt ’em the more they grin, and when it’s over, maybe a turn-up at a
-cattle fair, or a stop by footpads, they’ll go home to their missises
-all over blood and wounds as cool and comfortable as cowcumbers,
-with holes in their heads enough to scarify a whole hospital of army
-surgeons.”</p>
-
-<p>“The very thing Scott has characterised,” I ventured to observe, “in
-the person of honest Dandie.”</p>
-
-<p>“Begging your pardon, Sir,” said Ned,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> “I know Farmer Scott very well,
-and he’s anything but a dandy. I was just a going to bring forward, as
-one of the trumps, a regular out-and-outer. We become friends through
-an axident. It was a darkish night, you see, and him a little lushy
-or so, making a bit of a swerve in his going towards the middle of
-the road, before you could cry Snacks! I was over him with the old
-Regulator.”</p>
-
-<p>“Good God!” exclaimed my left-hand companion on the roof. “Was not the
-poor fellow hurt?”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, not much for <span class="smaller">HIM</span>,” answered Ned, with a very decided
-emphasis on the pronoun. “Though it would have been a quietus for nine
-men out of ten, and, as the Jews say, Take your pick of the basket. But
-he looked queer at first, and shook himself, and made a wryish face,
-like a man that hadn’t got the exact bit of the joint he preferred.”</p>
-
-<p>“Looked queer!” ejaculated the compassionate passenger, “he must have
-looked dreadful! I remember the Regulator, one of the oldest and
-heaviest vehicles on the road. But of course you picked him up, and got
-him inside, and&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
-
-<p>“Quite the reverse,” answered Ned, quietly, “and far from it; he picked
-himself up, quite independent, and wouldn’t even accept a lift on the
-box. He only felt about his head a bit, and then his back, and his
-arms, and his thighs, and his lines, and after that he guv a nod, and
-says he, ‘all right,’ and away he toddled.”</p>
-
-<p>“I can’t credit it,” exclaimed the man on the roof.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s jist what his wife said,” replied Ned, with considerable
-composure, in spite of the slur on his veracity. “Let alone two black
-eyes, and his collar bone, and the broke rib, he’d a hole in his head,
-with a flint sticking in it bigger than any one you can find since
-Macadaming. But he made so light on it all, and not being very clear
-besides in his notions, I’m blest if he didn’t tell her he’d only been
-knockt down by a man with a truck!”</p>
-
-<p>“Not a bad story,” said the smoker on the box.</p>
-
-<p>I confess I made internally a parallel remark. Naturally robust as my
-faith is, I could not, as Hamlet says, let “Belief lay hold of me,”
-with the coachman’s narrative in his hand, like a copy of a writ. I am
-no stranger, indeed, to the peculiar<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> hardihood of our native yeomanry;
-but Ned, in his zeal for their credit, had certainly overdrawn the
-truth. As to his doctrine of presentiments, it had never been one of
-the subjects of my speculations; but on a superficial view, it appeared
-to me improbable that life or death, in cases of casualty, could be
-predetermined with such certainty as he had averred; and particularly
-as I happen to know a certain lady, who has been accepting the Bills
-of Mortality at two months’ date, for many years past&mdash;but has never
-honoured them when due. It was fated, however, that honest Ned was to
-be confirmed in his theories and corroborated in his facts.</p>
-
-<p>We had scarcely trotted half a mile in meditative silence, when we
-overtook a sturdy pedestrian, who was pacing the breadth as well as
-the length of the road, rather more like a land surveyor than a mere
-traveller. He evidently belonged to the agricultural class, which
-Ned had distinguished by the title of Small Farmers. Like Scott’s
-Liddesdale yeoman, he wore a shaggy dreadnought, below which you saw
-two well-fatted calves, penned in a pair of huge top-boots&mdash;the tops
-and the boots being of such different shades of brown as you may
-observe in two arable fields of various soil, a rich loam and a clay.
-In his hand he carried a formidable knotted club-stick, and a member of
-the Heralds’ College would have set him down at once a tenant of the
-Earl of Leicester, he looked so like a bear with a ragged staff.</p>
-
-<p>I observed that Ned seemed anxious. One of his leaders was a bolter,
-and his wheelers were far from steady; and the man ahead walked not
-quite so straightly as if he had been ploughing a furrow. We were
-almost upon him&mdash;Ned gave a sharp halloo&mdash;the man looked back, and
-wavered. A minute decided the matter. He escaped Scylla, but Charybdis
-yawned for him&mdash;in plain prose, he cleared the Rocket, but contrived to
-get under the broad wheel of a Warwickshire waggon, which was passing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span>
-in the opposite direction. There was still a chance,&mdash;even a fly-waggon
-may be stopped without much notice&mdash;but the waggoner was inside,
-sweethearting with three maids that were going to Coventry. Every voice
-cried out Woh! but the right one. The horses plodded on&mdash;the wheels
-rumbled&mdash;the bells jingled&mdash;we all thought a knell.</p>
-
-<p>Ned instantly pulled up, with his team upon their haunches&mdash;we all
-alighted, and in a moment the sixteen the Rocket was licensed to
-carry were at the fatal spot. In the midst of the circle lay, what we
-considered a bundle of last linen just come home from the mangle.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s a dead un,” said the smoker, throwing away as he spoke the
-butt-end of a cigar.</p>
-
-<p>“Poor wretch,” exclaimed the humane man from the roof, “what a shocking
-spectacle!”</p>
-
-<p>“It’s over his chest,” said I.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s all over,” said the passenger on my right.</p>
-
-<p>“And a happy release,” said a lady on my left; “he must have been a
-cripple for life.”</p>
-
-<p>“He can’t have a whole rib in his body,” said a man from the dicky.</p>
-
-<p>“Hall to hattums,” said a gentleman from the inside.</p>
-
-<p>“The worst I ever see, and I’ve had the good luck to see many,” said
-the guard.</p>
-
-<p>“No, he can’t get over that,” said Ned himself.</p>
-
-<p>To our astonishment, however, the human mass still breathed. After
-a long sigh it opened one eye&mdash;the right&mdash;then the other&mdash;the mouth
-gasped&mdash;the tongue moved&mdash;and at last even spoke, though in disjointed
-syllables.</p>
-
-<p>“We’re nigh&mdash;hand&mdash;an’t we&mdash;the nine&mdash;milestun?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes&mdash;yes&mdash;close to it,” answered a dozen voices, and one in its
-bewilderment asked, “Do you live there?” but was set right by the
-sufferer himself.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“No&mdash;a mile fudder.”</p>
-
-<p>“Where is there a surgeon?” asked the humane man, “I will ride off for
-him on one of the leaders.”</p>
-
-<p>“Better not,” said the phlegmatic smoker, who had lighted a fresh cigar
-with some German tinder and a lucifer&mdash;“not used to saddle&mdash;may want a
-surgeon yourself.”</p>
-
-<p>“Is there never a doctor among the company?” inquired the guard.</p>
-
-<p>“I am a medical man,” replied a squat vulgar-looking personage. “I sell
-Morison’s pills&mdash;but I haven’t any about me.”</p>
-
-<p>“Glad of it,” said the smoker, casting a long puff in the other’s face.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_010" name="i_010">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_010.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“THIS IS THE TIME WHEN CHURCH-YARDS YAWN.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>“Poor wretch!” sighed the compassionate man. “He is beyond human aid.
-Heaven help the widow and the fatherless&mdash;he looks like a family man!”</p>
-
-<p>“I were not to blaame,” said the waggoner.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> “The woife and childerin
-can’t coom upon I.”</p>
-
-<p>“Does anyone know who he is?” inquired the coachman, but there was no
-answer.</p>
-
-<p>“Maybe the gemman has a card or summut,” said the gentleman from the
-inside.</p>
-
-<p>“Is there no house near?” inquired the lady.</p>
-
-<p>“For to get a shutter off on,” added the gentleman.</p>
-
-<p>“Ought we not to procure a postchaise,” inquired a gentleman’s footman.</p>
-
-<p>“Or a shell, in case,” suggested the man from the dicky.</p>
-
-<p>“Shell be hanged!” said the sufferer, in a tone that made us all jump
-a yard backward. “Stick me up agin the milestun&mdash;there, easy does
-it&mdash;that’s comfortable&mdash;and now tell me, and no nonsense,&mdash;be I flat?”</p>
-
-<p>“A little pancakey,” said the man with the cigar.</p>
-
-<p>“I say,” repeated the sufferer, with some earnestness, “be I
-flat&mdash;quite flat&mdash;as flat like as a sheet of paper? Yes or no?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, no, no,” burst from sixteen voices at once, and the assurance
-seemed to take as great a load off his mind as had lately passed
-over his body. By an effort he contrived to get up and sit upon the
-milestone, from which he waved us a good-bye, accompanied by the
-following words:&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>“Gentlefolk, my best thanks and my sarvice to you, and a pleasant
-journey. Don’t consarn yourselves about me, for there’s nothing
-dangerous. I shall do well, I know I shall; and I’ll tell you what I’ll
-go upon&mdash;if I bean’t flat I shall get round.”</p>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="JOHNSONIANA">JOHNSONIANA.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="s5 center">“None despise puns but those who cannot make
-them.”&mdash;S<span class="smaller">WIFT</span>.</p>
-
-<p class="center mbot1"><i>To the Editor of the Comic Annual.</i></p>
-
-<div class="correspondence">
-
-<p>S<span class="smaller">IR</span>,</p>
-
-<p class="p1">As I am but an occasional reader in the temporary indulgence of
-intellectual relaxation, I have but recently become<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> cognizant
-of the metropolitan publication of Mr. Murray’s Mr. Croker’s Mr.
-Boswell’s Dr. Johnson: a circumstance the more to be deprecated,
-for if I had been simultaneously aware of that amalgamation of
-miscellaneous memoranda I could have contributed a personal
-quota of characteristic colloquial anecdotes to the biographical
-reminiscences of the multitudinous lexicographer, which although
-founded on the basis of indubitable veracity, has never transpired
-among the multifarious effusions of that stupendous complication
-of mechanical ingenuity, which, according to the technicalities
-in usage in our modern nomenclature, has obtained the universal
-cognomen of the press. Expediency imperiously dictates that the
-nominal identity of the hereditary kinsman, from whom I derive my
-authoritative responsibility, shall be inviolable and umbrageously
-obscured; but in future variorum editions his voluntary addenda
-to the already inestimable concatenation of circumstantial
-particularisation might typographically be discriminated from
-the literary accumulations of the indefatigable Boswell and the
-vivacious Piozzi, by the significant classification of Boz, Poz,
-and Coz.</p>
-
-<p>In posthumously eliciting and philosophically elucidating the
-phenomena of defunct luminaries, whether in reference to corporeal,
-physiognomical, or metaphysical attributes, justice demands the
-strictest scrupulosity, in order that the heterogeneous may not
-preponderate over the homogeneous in the critical analysis.
-Metaphorically speaking, I am rationally convinced that the
-operative point I am about to develop will remove a pertinacious
-film from the eye of the biographer of the memorable Dr. Johnson;
-and especially with reference to that reiterated verbal aphorism
-so preposterously ascribed to his conversational inculcation,
-namely, that “he who would make a pun would pick a pocket;”
-however irrelevant such a doctrinarian maxim to the irrefragable
-fact, that in that colossal monument of etymological erudition
-erected by the stupendous Doctor himself (of course implying his
-inestimable Dictionary), the paramount<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> gist, scope, and tendency
-of his laborious researches was obviously to give as many meanings
-as possible to one word. In order, however, to place hypothesis
-on the immutable foundation of fact, I will, with your periodical
-permission, adduce a few Johnsonian repartees from my cousin’s
-anecdotical memorabilia, which will perspicuously evolve the
-synthetical conclusion, that the inimitable author of Rasselas
-did not dogmatically predicate such an aggravated degree of moral
-turpitude in the perpetration of a double entendre.</p>
-
-<p>Apologistically requesting indulgence for the epistolary laxity of
-an unpremeditated effusion,</p>
-
-<p class="right"><span class="mright4">I remain, Sir,</span><br />
-<span class="mright1">Your very humble obedient servant,</span><br />
-S<span class="smaller">EPTIMUS</span> R<span class="smaller">EARDON</span>.</p>
-
-<p class="mleft1"><i>Lichfield, October 1, 1833.</i></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="mtop1">“Do you really believe, Dr. Johnson,” said a Lichfield lady, “in the
-dead walking after death?”&mdash;“Madam,” said Johnson, “I have no doubt
-on the subject; I have heard the Dead March in Saul.” “You really
-believe then, Doctor, in ghosts?”&mdash;“Madam,” said Johnson, “I think
-<i>appearances</i> are in their favour.”</p>
-
-<p>The Doctor was notoriously very superstitious. The same lady once
-asked him&mdash;“if he ever felt any presentiment at a winding-sheet in the
-candle.”&mdash;“Madam,” said Johnson, “if a <i>mould</i> candle, it doubtless
-indicates death, and that somebody will go out like a <i>snuff</i>; but
-whether at Hampton <i>Wick</i> or in <i>Greece</i>, must depend upon the
-<i>graves</i>.”</p>
-
-<p>Dr. Johnson was not comfortable in the Hebrides. “Pray, Doctor, how did
-you sleep?” inquired a benevolent Scotch hostess, who was so extremely
-hospitable that some hundreds always occupied the same bed.&mdash;“Madam,”
-said Johnson, “I had not a wink the whole night long; sleep seemed to
-<i>flee</i> from my eyelids, and to <i>bug</i> from all the rest of my body.”</p>
-
-<p>The Doctor and Boswell once lost themselves in the Isle of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> Muck, and
-the latter said they must “<i>spier</i> their way at the first body they
-met.” “Sir,” said Dr. Johnson, “you’re a scoundrel: you may spear
-anybody you like, but I am not going to ‘run a-Muck and tilt at all I
-meet.’”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_014" name="i_014">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_014.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">AN ILLUMINATED MS.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>“What do you think of whiskey, Dr. Johnson?” hiccupped Boswell after
-emptying a sixth tumbler of toddy. “Sir,” said the Doctor, “it
-penetrates my very soul like ‘the <i>small-still</i> voice of conscience,’
-and doubtless the worm of the still is the ‘worm that never dies.’”
-Boswell afterwards inquired the Doctor’s opinion on illicit
-distillation, and how the great moralist would act in an affray between
-the smugglers and the Excise. “If I went by the <i>letter</i> of the law, I
-should assist the Customs, but according to the <i>spirit</i> I should stand
-by the contrabands.”</p>
-
-<p>The Doctor was always very satirical on the want of timber in the
-North. “Sir,” he said to the young Laird of Icombally, who was going
-to join his regiment,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> “may Providence preserve you in battle, and
-especially your nether limbs. You may grow a walking-stick here, but
-you must import a wooden leg.” At Dunsinane the old prejudice broke
-out. “Sir,” said he to Boswell, “Macbeth was an idiot; he ought to have
-known that every wood in Scotland might be carried in a man’s hand. The
-Scotch, Sir, are like the frogs in the fable: if they had a Log they
-would make a King of it.”</p>
-
-<p>Boswell one day expatiated at some length on the moral and religious
-character of his countrymen, and remarked triumphantly that there was
-a Cathedral at Kirkwall, and the remains of a Bishop’s Palace. “Sir,”
-said Johnson, “it must have been the poorest of Sees: take your <i>Rum</i>
-and <i>Egg</i> and <i>Mull</i> altogether, and they won’t provide for a <i>Bishop</i>.”</p>
-
-<p>East India company is the worst of all company. A Lady fresh from
-Calcutta once endeavoured to curry Johnson’s favour by talking of
-nothing but howdahs, doolies, and bungalows, till the Doctor took, as
-usual, to <i>tiffin</i>. “Madam,” said he, in a tone that would have scared
-a tiger out of a jungle, “India’s very well for a rubber or for a
-bandana, or for a cake of ink, but what with its Bhurtpore, Pahlumpore,
-Barrackpore, Hyderapore, Singapore, and Nagpore, its Hyderabad,
-Astrabad, Bundlebad, Sindbad, and Guzzaratbadbad, it’s a <i>poor</i> and
-<i>bad</i> country altogether.”</p>
-
-<p>Master M., after plaguing Miss Seward and Dr. Darwin, and a large tea
-party at Lichfield, said to his mother that he would be good if she
-would give him an apple. “My dear child,” said the parent, feeling
-herself in the presence of a great moralist, “you ought not to be good
-on any consideration of gain, for ‘virtue is its own reward.’ You ought
-to be good disinterestedly, and without thinking what you are to get
-for it.” “Madam,” said Dr. Johnson, “you are a fool; would you have the
-boy <i>good for nothing</i>?”</p>
-
-<p>The same lady once consulted the Doctor on the degree of turpitude to
-be attached to her son’s robbing an orchard.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> “Madam,” said Johnson,
-“it all depends upon the weight of the boy. I remember my schoolfellow
-Davy Garrick, who was always a little fellow, robbing a dozen of
-orchards with impunity, but the very first time I climbed up an apple
-tree, for I was always a heavy boy, the bough broke with me, and it was
-called a judgment. I suppose that’s why Justice is represented with a
-pair of scales.”</p>
-
-<p>Caleb Whitefoord, the famous punster, once inquired seriously of
-Dr. Johnson whether he really considered that a man ought to be
-transported, like Barrington, the pickpocket, for being guilty of a
-double meaning. “Sir,” said Johnson, “if a man means well, the more he
-means the better.”</p>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_GREAT_EARTHQUAKE_AT_MARY-LE-BONE">THE GREAT
-EARTHQUAKE AT MARY-LE-BONE.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="s5 center mbot2">“Do you never deviate?”&mdash;J<span class="smaller">OHN</span>
-B<span class="smaller">ULL</span>.</p>
-
-<p>I<span class="smaller">T</span> was on the evening of the 7th of November, 18&mdash;, that I went by
-invitation to sup with my friend P., at his house in Highstreet,
-Mary-le-bone. The only other person present was a Portuguese, by
-name Senor Mendez, P.’s mercantile agent at Lisbon, a person of
-remarkably retentive memory, and most wonderful power of description.
-The conversation somehow turned upon the memorable great earthquake
-at Lisbon, in the year of our Lord&mdash;&mdash;, and Senor Mendez, who was
-residing at that time in the Portuguese capital, gave us a very
-lively picture&mdash;if lively it may be called&mdash;of the horrors of that
-awful convulsion of nature. The picture was dreadful; the Senor’s own
-house, a substantial stone mansion, was rent from attic to cellar: and
-the steeple of his parish church left impending over it at an angle
-surpassing that of the famous Leaning Tower of Bologna!</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>The Portuguese had a wonderfully expressive countenance, with a
-style of narration indescribably vivid; and as I listened with the
-most intense interest, every dismal circumstance of the calamity
-became awfully distinct to my apprehension. I could hear the dreary
-ringing of the bells, self-tolled from the rocking of the churches;
-the swaying to and fro of the steeples themselves, and the unnatural
-heavings and swellings of the Tagus, were vividly before me. As the
-agitations increased, the voice of the Senor became awfully tremulous,
-and his seat seemed literally to rock under him. I seemed palsied, and
-could see from P.’s looks that he was similarly affected. To conceal
-his disorder, he kept swallowing large gulps from his rummer, and I
-followed his example.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_017" name="i_017">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_017.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“DO THY SPIRITING GENTLY.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>This was only the first shock;&mdash;the second soon followed, and, to
-use a popular expression, it made us both<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> “shake in our shoes.”
-Terrific, however, as it was, the third was more tremendous; the order
-of nature seemed reversed; the ships in the Tagus sank to the bottom,
-and their ponderous anchors rose to the surface; volcanic fire burst
-forth from the water, and water from dry ground; the air, no longer
-elastic, seemed to become a stupendous solid; swaying to and fro, and
-irresistibly battering down the fabrics of ages; hollow rumblings
-and moanings as from the very centre of the world, gave warning of
-deafening explosions, which soon followed, and seemed to shake the
-very stars out of the sky. All this time the powerful features of
-the Senor kept working, in frightful imitation of the convulsion he
-was describing, and the effect was horrible; I saw P. quiver like an
-aspen&mdash;there seemed no such thing as terra firma. Our chairs rocked
-under us; the floor tossed and heaved; the candles wavered, the windows
-clattered, and the teaspoons rang again, as our tumblers vibrated in
-our hands.</p>
-
-<p>Senor Mendez at length concluded his narrative, and shortly took leave;
-I staid but a few minutes after him, just to make a remark on the
-appalling character of the story, and then departed myself,&mdash;little
-thinking, that any part of the late description was to be so speedily
-realised by my own experience!</p>
-
-<p>The hour being late, and the servants in bed, P. himself accompanied me
-to the door. I ought to remark here that the day had been uncommonly
-serene&mdash;not a breath stirring, as was noticed on the morning of the
-great catastrophe at Lisbon; however, P. had barely closed the door,
-when a sudden and violent motion of the earth threw me from the step
-on which I was standing, to the middle of the pavement; I had got
-partly up when a second shock, as smart as the first, threw me again
-on the ground. With some difficulty I recovered my legs a second
-time, the earth in the mean time heaving about under me like the deck
-of a ship at sea. The street lamps, too, seemed violently agitated,
-and the houses nodded over me as if they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> would fall every instant.
-I attempted to run, but it was impossible; I could barely keep on
-my feet. At one step I was dashed forcibly against the wall; at the
-next I was thrown into the road; as the motion became more violent
-I clung to a lamp-post, but it swayed with me like a rush. A great
-mist came suddenly on, but I could perceive people hurrying about,
-all staggering like drunken men; some of them addressing me, but so
-confusedly as to be quite unintelligible; one&mdash;a lady&mdash;passed close to
-me in evident alarm: seizing her hand, I besought her to fly with me
-from the falling houses, into the open fields; what answer she made I
-know not, for at that instant, a fresh shock threw me on my face with
-such violence as to render me quite insensible. Providentially, in this
-state I attracted the notice of some of the night police, who humanely
-deposited me, for safety, in St. Anne’s watch-house, till the following
-morning; when being sufficiently recovered to give a collected account
-of that eventful evening, the ingenious Mr. W., of the Morning Herald,
-was so much interested by my narrative that he kindly did me the favour
-of drawing it up for publication in the following form.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_019" name="i_019">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_019.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot2">“WELL! I NEVER COULD KEEP MY LEGS!”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center"><i>Police Intelligence.&mdash;Bow Street.</i></p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p>“This morning a stout country gentleman, in a new suit of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>
-mud, evidently town made, was charged with having walked <i>Waverly</i>
-over-night till he got his <i>Kennelworth</i> in a gutter in Mary-le-bone.
-The Jack-o’-lanthorn who picked him up could make nothing out of him,
-but that he was some sort of a <i>Quaker</i>, and declared that the whole
-country was in a <i>shocking</i> state. He acknowledged having taken rather
-too much <i>Lisbon</i>; but according to Mr. Daly, he sniffed of whiskey ‘as
-strong as natur.’ The defendant attempted with a <i>sotto voce</i> (Anglice,
-a tipsy voice), to make some excuse, but was stopped and fined in
-the usual sum, by Sir Richard. He found his way out of the office,
-muttering that he thought it very hard to have to pay <i>five hogs</i> for
-being only as drunk as <i>one</i>.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="ODE_TO_ST_SWITHIN">ODE TO ST. SWITHIN.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="s5 center mbot1">“The rain it raineth every day.”</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">T<span class="smaller">HE</span> Dawn is overcast, the morning low’rs,</div>
-      <div class="verse">On ev’ry window-frame hang beaded damps</div>
-      <div class="verse">Like rows of small illumination lamps,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To celebrate the Jubilee of Show’rs!</div>
-      <div class="verse">A constant sprinkle patters from all leaves,</div>
-      <div class="verse">The very Dryads are not dry, but soppers,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And from the Houses’ eaves</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Tumble eaves-droppers.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">The hundred clerks that live along the street,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Bondsmen to mercantile and City schemers,</div>
-      <div class="verse">With squashing, sloshing, and galoching feet,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Go paddling, paddling, through the wet, like steamers,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Each hurrying to earn the daily stipend&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Umbrellas pass of every shade of green,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And now and then a crimson one is seen,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Like an Umbrella <i>ripen’d</i>.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Over the way a waggon</div>
-      <div class="verse">Stand with six smoking horses, shrinking, blinking,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">While in the George and Dragon</div>
-      <div class="verse">The man is keeping himself dry&mdash;and drinking!</div>
-      <div class="verse">The Butcher’s boy skulks underneath his tray,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Hats shine&mdash;shoes don’t&mdash;and down droop collars,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And one blue Parasol cries all the way</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">To school, in company with four small scholars!</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_021" name="i_021">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_021.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">PRIDE AND HUMILITY.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Unhappy is the man to-day who rides,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Making his journey sloppier, not shorter;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Aye, there they go, a dozen of outsides,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Performing on “a Stage with real water!”</div>
-      <div class="verse">A dripping Pauper crawls along the way,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The only real willing out-of-doorer</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And says, or seems to say,</div>
-      <div class="verse">“Well, I am poor enough&mdash;but here’s a <i>pourer!</i>”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">The scene in water colours thus I paint,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Is your own Festival, you Sloppy Saint!</div>
-      <div class="verse">Mother of all the Family of Rainers!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Saint of the Soakers!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Making all people croakers,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Like frogs in swampy marshes, and complainers!</div>
-      <div class="verse">And why you mizzle forty days together,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Giving the earth your water-soup to sup,</div>
-      <div class="verse">I marvel&mdash;Why such wet, mysterious weather?</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">I wish you’d <i>clear it up</i>!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Why cast such cruel dampers</div>
-      <div class="verse">On pretty Pic Nics, and against all wishes</div>
-      <div class="verse">Set the cold ducks a-swimming in the hampers,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And volunteer, unask’d, to wash the dishes?</div>
-      <div class="verse">Why drive the Nymphs from the selected spot,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">To cling like lady-birds around a tree&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Why spoil a Gipsy party at their tea,</div>
-      <div class="verse">By throwing your cold water upon hot?</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Cannot a rural maiden, or a man,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Seek Hornsey-Wood by invitation, sipping</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Their green with Pan,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But souse you come, and show their Pan all dripping!</div>
-      <div class="verse">Why upon snow-white table-cloths and sheets,</div>
-      <div class="verse">That do not wait, or want a second washing,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Come squashing?</div>
-      <div class="verse">Why task yourself to lay the dust in streets,</div>
-      <div class="verse">As if there were no Water-Cart contractors,</div>
-      <div class="verse">No pot-boys spilling beer, no shop-boys ruddy</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Spooning out puddles muddy,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Milkmaids, and other slopping benefactors!</div>
-      <div class="verse">A Queen you are, raining in your own right,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Yet oh! how little flatter’d by report!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Even by those that seek the Court,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Pelted with every term of spleen and spite.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Folks rail and swear at you in every place;</div>
-      <div class="verse">They say you are a creature of no bowel;</div>
-      <div class="verse">They say you’re always washing Nature’s face,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And that you then supply her,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">With nothing drier,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Than some old wringing cloud by way of towel!</div>
-      <div class="verse">The whole town wants you duck’d, just as you duck it,</div>
-      <div class="verse">They wish you on your own mud porridge supper’d,</div>
-      <div class="verse">They hope that you may kick your own big bucket,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or in your water-butt go sous! heels up’ard!</div>
-      <div class="verse">They are, in short, so weary of your drizzle,</div>
-      <div class="verse">They’d spill the water in your veins to stop it&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Be warn’d! You are too partial to a mizzle&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Pray <i>drop it</i>!</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_023" name="i_023">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_023.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot3">“IT NEVER RAINS BUT IT POURS.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_024" name="i_024">
-   <img class="mtop3" src="images/i_024.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption">A FIGURE OF SPEECH:&mdash;A BROAD SCOTCHMAN.</p>
-</div>
-
-<h2 class="nopad" id="THE_APPARITION">THE APPARITION.</h2>
-
-<p class="s5 center mbot2">A TRUE STORY.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p>“To keep without a reef in a gale of wind like that&mdash;Jock was the only
-boatman on the Firth of Tay to do it!”&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>“He had sail enough to blow him over Dundee Law.”&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>“She’s emptied her ballast and come up again,&mdash;with her sails all
-standing&mdash;every sheet was belayed with a double turn.”</p>
-
-<p>I give the sense rather than the sound of the foregoing speeches, for
-the speakers were all Dundee ferry-boatmen, and broad Scotchmen, using
-the extra-wide dialect of Angus-shire and Fife.</p>
-
-<p>At the other end of the low-roofed room, under a coarse white sheet,
-sprinkled with sprigs of rue and rosemary, dimly lighted by a small
-candle at the head, and another at the feet, lay the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> object of
-their comments&mdash;a corpse of startling magnitude. In life, poor Jock
-was of unusual stature, but stretching a little, perhaps, as is
-usual in death, and advantaged by the narrow limits of the room, the
-dimensions seemed absolutely supernatural. During the warfare of the
-Allies against Napoleon, Jock, a fellow of some native humour, had
-distinguished himself by singing about the streets of Dundee, ballads,
-I believe his own, against old Boney. The nick-name of Ballad-Jock was
-not his only reward; the loyal burgesses subscribed among themselves,
-and made him that fatal gift, a ferry-boat, the management of which
-we have just heard so seriously reviewed. The catastrophe took place
-one stormy Sunday, a furious gale blowing against the tide, down
-the river&mdash;and the Tay is anything but what the Irish call “weak
-tay,” at such seasons. In fact, the devoted Nelson, with all sails
-set,&mdash;fair-weather fashion,&mdash;caught aback in a sudden gust,&mdash;after
-a convulsive whirl capsized, and went down in forty fathoms, taking
-with her two-and-twenty persons, the greater part of whom were on
-their way to hear the celebrated Dr. Chalmers,&mdash;even at that time
-highly popular,&mdash;though preaching in a small church at some obscure
-village, I forget the name, in Fife. After all the rest had sunk in
-the waters, the huge figure of Jock was observed clinging to an oar,
-barely afloat,&mdash;when some sufferer probably catching hold of his feet,
-he suddenly disappeared, still grasping the oar, which afterwards
-springing upright into the air, as it rose again to the surface, showed
-the fearful depth to which it had been carried. The body of Jock was
-the last found; about the fifth day, it was strangely enough deposited
-by the tide almost at the threshold of his own dwelling, at the Craig,
-a small pier or jetty, frequented by the ferry-boats. It had been
-hastily caught up, and in its clothes laid out in the manner just
-described, lying as it were in state, and the public, myself one, being
-freely admitted, as far as the room would hold, it was crowded by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span>
-fish-wives, mariners, and other shore-haunters, except a few feet next
-the corpse, which a natural awe towards the dead kept always vacant.
-The narrow death’s door was crammed with eager listening and looking
-heads, and by the buzzing without, there was a large surplus crowd in
-waiting before the dwelling for their turn to enter it.</p>
-
-<p>On a sudden, at a startling exclamation from one of those nearest
-the bed, all eyes were directed towards that quarter. One of the
-candles was guttering and sputtering near the socket,&mdash;the other just
-twinkling out, and sending up a stream of rank smoke,&mdash;but by the
-light, dim as it was, a slight motion of the sheet was perceptible
-just at that part where the hand of the dead mariner might be supposed
-to be lying at his side! A scream and shout of horror burst from all
-within, echoed, though ignorant of the cause, by another from the
-crowd without. A general rush was made towards the door, but egress
-was impossible. Nevertheless horror and dread squeezed up the company
-in the room to half their former compass: and left a far wider blank
-between the living and the dead! I confess at first I mistrusted my
-sight; it seemed that some twitching of the nerves of the eye, or
-the flickering of the shadows, thrown by the unsteady flame of the
-candle, might have caused some optical delusion; but after several
-minutes of sepulchral silence and watching, the motion became more
-awfully manifest, now proceeding slowly upwards, as if the hand of the
-deceased, still beneath the sheet, was struggling up feebly towards
-his head. It is possible to conceive, but not to describe, the popular
-consternation,&mdash;the shrieks of women,&mdash;the shouts of men&mdash;the struggles
-to gain the only outlet, choked up and rendered impassable by the very
-efforts of desperation and fear!&mdash;Clinging to each other, and with
-ghastly faces that <i>dared</i> not turn from the object of dread, the
-whole assembly backed with united force against the opposite wall,
-with a convulsive energy that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> threatened to force out the very side
-of the dwelling&mdash;when, startled before by silent motion, but now by
-sound,&mdash;with a smart rattle something fell from the bed to the floor,
-and disentangling itself from the death drapery, displayed&mdash;a large
-pound Crab!&mdash;The creature, with some design, perhaps sinister, had
-been secreted in the ample clothes of the drowned seaman, but even
-the comparative insignificance of this apparition gave but little
-alleviation to the superstitious horrors of the spectators, who
-appeared to believe firmly, that it was only the Evil One himself,
-transfigured.&mdash;Wherever the crab straddled sidelong, infirm beldame
-and sturdy boatman equally shrank and retreated before it,&mdash;aye, even
-as it changed place, to crowding closely round the corpse itself,
-rather than endure its diabolical contact. The crowd outside, warned
-by cries from within, of the presence of Mahound, had by this time
-retired to a respectful distance, and the crab, doing what herculean
-sinews had failed to effect, cleared itself a free passage through
-the door in a twinkling, and with natural instinct began crawling as
-fast as he could clapperclaw, down the little jetty before mentioned
-that led into his native sea. The Satanic Spirit, however disguised,
-seemed everywhere distinctly recognised. Many at the lower end of the
-Craig lept into their craft; one or two even into the water, whilst
-others crept as close to the verge of the pier as they could, leaving
-a thoroughfare&mdash;wide as “the broad path of honour,”&mdash;to the Infernal
-Cancer. To do him justice, he straddled along with a very unaffected
-unconsciousness of his own evil importance. He seemed to have no aim
-higher than salt water and sand, and had accomplished half the distance
-towards them, when a little decrepit poor old sea-roamer, generally
-known as “Creel Katie,” made a dexterous snatch at a hind claw, and
-before the Crab-Devil was aware, deposited him in her patchwork
-apron, with an “Hech, Sirs, what for are ye gaun to let gang siccan a
-braw partane?” In vain a hundred voices shouted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> out, “Let him bide,
-Katie,&mdash;he’s no cannie;” fish or fiend, the resolute old dame kept a
-fast clutch of her prize, promising him, moreover, a comfortable simmer
-in the mickle pat, for the benefit of herself and that “puir silly body
-the gudeman:” and she kept her word. Before night the poor Devil was
-dressed in his shell, to the infinite horror of all her neighbours.
-Some even said that a black figure, with horns, and wings, and hoofs,
-and forky tail, in fact old Clooty himself, had been seen to fly out
-of the chimney. Others said that unwholesome and unearthly smells, as
-of pitch and brimstone, had reeked forth from the abominable thing,
-through door and window. Creel Kate, however, persisted, aye, even to
-her dying day and on her deathbed, that the Crab was as sweet a Crab
-as ever was supped on; and that it recovered her old husband out of a
-very poor low way,&mdash;adding, “And that was a thing, ye ken, the Deil a
-Deil in the Dub of Darkness wad hae dune for siccan a gude man, and
-kirk-going Christian body, as my ain douce Davie.”</p>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="A_BLIND_MAN">A BLIND MAN</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="p0">Is a Blackamoor turned outside in. His skin is fair, but his lining is
-utter dark; his eyes are like shotten stars,&mdash;mere jellies; or like
-mock-painted windows since the tax upon daylight: what his mind’s eye
-can be, is yet a mystery with the learned, or if he hath a mental
-capacity at all&mdash;for, “out of sight is out of mind.”</p>
-
-<p>Wherever he stands, he is antipodean, with his midnight to your noon.
-The brightest sunshine serves only to make him the gloomier object;
-like a dark house at a general illumination. When he stirs, it is like
-a Venetian blind, being pulled up and down by a string; he is a human
-kettle tied to a dog’s tail, and with much of the same tin twang in
-his tone. With botanists he is a species of solanum, or night-shade,
-whereof the berries<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> are in his eyes;&mdash;amongst painters he is only
-contemned, for his ignorance of clare-obscure; but by musicians
-marvelled at for playing, ante-sight, on an invisible fiddle. He stands
-against a wall with his two blank orbs, like a figure in high relief,
-howbeit but seldom relieved; and though he is fond of getting pence,
-yet he is confessedly blind to his own interest.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_029" name="i_029">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_029.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">A MISGUIDED MAN.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>In his religion he is a materialist, putting no faith but in things
-palpable. In politics, no visionary; in his learning a smatterer, his
-knowledge of all being superficial; in his age a child, being yet in
-leading-strings; in his life immortal, for death may lengthen his
-night, but can put no end to his days; in his courage, heroic, for
-he winks at no danger; in his pretensions humble, confessing that he
-is nothing, even in his own eyes; in his malady hopeless, for eyes
-of <i>looking</i>-glass would not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> help him to see. To conclude&mdash;he is
-pitied by the rich, relieved by the poor, oppressed by the beadle, and
-horse-whipped by the fox-hunter, for not giving the view holloa!</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_030" name="i_030">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_030.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“BE TO THEIR FAULTS A LITTLE BLIND.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_SUPPER_SUPERSTITION">THE SUPPER SUPERSTITION.</h2>
-
-<p class="s5 center mbot2">A PATHETIC BALLAD.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza-heading">
-      <div class="verse">“Oh flesh, flesh how art thou
-     fishified.”&mdash;M<span class="smaller">ERCUTIO</span>.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft8">I.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">’Twas twelve o’clock by Chelsea chimes,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">When all in hungry trim,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Good Mister Jupp sat down to sup</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">With wife, and Kate, and Jim.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft8">II.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Said he, “Upon this dainty cod</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">How bravely I shall sup,”&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">When, whiter than the table-cloth,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A GHOST came rising up!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft8">III.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“O, father dear, O, mother dear,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Dear Kate, and brother Jim,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">You know when some one went to sea,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Don’t cry&mdash;but I am him!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft8">IV.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“You hope some day with fond embrace</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">To greet your absent Jack,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But oh, I am come here to say</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">I’m never coming back!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft8">V.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“From Alexandria we set sail,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">With corn, and oil, and figs,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But steering ‘too much Sow,’ we struck</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Upon the Sow and Pigs!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft8">VI.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“The Ship we pump’d till we could see</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Old England from the tops;</div>
-      <div class="verse">When down she went with all our hands,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Right in the Channel’s Chops.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft8">VII.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Just give a look in Norey’s chart,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The very place it tells;</div>
-      <div class="verse">I think it says twelve fathom deep,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Clay bottom, mixed with shells.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft8">VIII.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Well, there we are till ‘hands aloft,’</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">We have at last a call;</div>
-      <div class="verse">The pug I had for brother Jim,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Kate’s parrot too, and all.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft8">IX.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“But oh, my spirit cannot rest,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">In Davy Jones’s sod,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Till I’ve appear’d to you and said,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Don’t sup on that ’ere Cod!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft8">X.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“You live on land, and little think</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">What passes in the sea;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Last Sunday week, at 2 <span class="smaller">P.M.</span>,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">That cod was picking me!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft8">XI.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Those oysters too, that look so plump,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And seem so nicely done,</div>
-      <div class="verse">They put my corpse in many shells,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Instead of only one.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft8">XII.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“O, do not eat those oysters then,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And do not touch the shrimps;</div>
-      <div class="verse">When I was in my briny grave,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">They suck’d my blood like imps!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft8">XIII.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Don’t eat what brutes would never eat,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The brutes I used to pat,</div>
-      <div class="verse">They’ll know the smell they used to smell;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Just try the dog and cat!”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft8">XIV.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">The Spirit fled&mdash;they wept his fate,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And cried, Alack, alack!</div>
-      <div class="verse">At last up started brother Jim.</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">“Let’s try if Jack was Jack!”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft8">XV.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">They call’d the Dog, they call’d the Cat,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And little Kitten too,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And down they put the Cod and sauce,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">To see what brutes would do.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft8">XVI.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Old Tray lick’d all the oysters up,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Puss never stood at crimps,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But munch’d the Cod&mdash;and little Kit</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Quite feasted on the shrimps!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft8">XVII.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">The thing was odd, and minus Cod</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And sauce, they stood like posts;</div>
-      <div class="verse">O, prudent folks, for fear of hoax,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Put no belief in Ghosts!</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_033" name="i_033">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_033.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">FRIENDS AWAITING A SAILOR’S RETURN.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="A_SNAKE-SNACK">A SNAKE-SNACK.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="s5 center mbot2">“Twine ye, twine
-ye.”&mdash;S<span class="smaller">IR</span> W. S<span class="smaller">COTT</span>.</p>
-
-<p>I<span class="smaller">T</span> was my good fortune once, at Charing Cross, to witness the feeding
-of the Boa Constrictor; rather a rare occurrence, and difficult of
-observation, the reptile not being remarkable for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> the regularity of
-its dinner-hour; and a very considerable interval intervenes, as the
-world knows, between Gorge the First, and Gorge the Second, Gorge the
-Third, and Gorge the Fourth. I was not in time to see the serpent’s
-first dart at the prey; she had already twisted herself round her
-victim,&mdash;a living White Rabbit&mdash;who with a large dark eye gazed
-piteously through one of the folds, and looked most eloquently that
-line in Hamlet&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“O could I shuffle off this mortal <i>coil</i>!”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_034" name="i_034">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_034.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">THE BOA AFTER A MEAL.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p class="p0">The Snake evidently only embraced him in a kill-him-when-I-want-him
-manner, just firmly enough to prevent an escape&mdash;but her lips were
-glued on his, in a close “Judas’ kiss.” So long a time elapsed, in
-this position, both as marble-still as poor old Laocoon with his
-leaches on, that I really began to doubt the tale of the Boa’s ability
-in swallowing; and to associate the hoax before me, with that of the
-Bottle Conjuror. The head of the snake, in fact, might have gone
-without difficulty into a wine-glass, and the throat, down which the
-rabbit was to pro<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>ceed whole, seemed not at all thicker than my thumb.
-In short, I thought the reported <i>cram</i> was nothing but <i>stuff</i>,
-and the only other visitor declared himself of my opinion: “If that
-’ere little wiper swallows up the rabbit, I’ll bolt um both!” and he
-seemed capable of the feat. He looked like a personification of what
-Political Economists call the Public Consumer; or, Geoffrey Crayon’s
-Stout Gentleman, seen through Carpenter’s Solar Microscope; a genuine
-Edax Rerum; one of your devourers of legs of mutton and trimmings, for
-wagers: the delight of eating-houses, and the dread of ordinaries. The
-contrast was whimsical, between his mountain of mummy, and the slim
-Macaroni figure of the Snake, the reputed Glutton. However, the Boa
-began at last to prepare for the meal, by lubricating the muzzle of the
-Rabbit with her slimy tongue, and then commenced in earnest,</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">As far as in her lay to take him in,</div>
-      <div class="verse">A stranger dying with so fair a skin.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="p0">The process was tedious&mdash;“one swallow makes a summer”&mdash;but it gradually
-became apparent, from the fate of the head, that the whole body might
-eventually be “lost in the Serpentine.” The Reptile, indeed, made ready
-for the rest of the interment by an operation rather horrible. On a
-sudden, the living cable was observed, as a sailor would say, to haul
-in her slack, and with a squeeze evincing tremendous muscular power,
-she reduced the whole body into a compass that would follow the head
-with perfect ease. It was like a regular smash in business:&mdash;the poor
-rabbit was completely broken&mdash;and the wily winder-up of his affairs
-recommenced paying herself in full. It was a sorry sight and sickening.
-As for the Stout Gentleman, he could not control his agitation. His
-eyes rolled and watered; his jaws constantly yawned like a panther’s;
-and his hands with a convulsive movement were clasped every now and
-then on his stomach;&mdash;but when the whole rabbit was smothered in
-snake, he could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> restrain himself no longer, and rushed out of the
-menagerie as if he really expected to be called upon to fulfil his
-rash engagement. Anxious to ascertain the true nature of the impulse,
-I hurried in pursuit of him, and after a short but sharp chase, I saw
-him dash into the British Hotel, and overheard his familiar voice&mdash;the
-same that had promised to swallow both Snake and Snack&mdash;bellowing out,
-guttural with hunger&mdash;“Here!&mdash;waiter!&mdash;Quick!&mdash;Rabbits in onions for
-two!”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_036" name="i_036">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_036.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">THE GREAT SEA SERPENT DISCOVERED FROM THE
-  MAST-HEAD.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="A_STORM_AT_HASTINGS">A STORM AT HASTINGS<br />
-
-<span class="s6">AND THE LITTLE UNKNOWN.</span></h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">’T<span class="smaller">WAS</span> August&mdash;Hastings every day was filling&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Hastings, that “greenest spot on memory’s waste!”</div>
-      <div class="verse">With crowds of idlers willing or unwilling</div>
-      <div class="verse">To be bedipped&mdash;be noticed&mdash;or be braced,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And all things rose a penny in a shilling.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Meanwhile, from window and from door, in haste</div>
-      <div class="verse">“Accommodation bills” kept coming down,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Gladding “the world of letters” in that town.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Each day pour’d in new coach-fulls of new cits,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Flying from London smoke and dust annoying,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Unmarried Misses hoping to make hits,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And new-wed couples fresh from Tunbridge toying.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Lacemen and placemen, ministers and wits,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And Quakers of both sexes, much enjoying</div>
-      <div class="verse">A morning’s reading by the ocean’s rim,</div>
-      <div class="verse">That sect delighting in the sea’s broad brim.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_037" name="i_037">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_037.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">AN ABRIDGMENT OF ALL THAT IS PLEASANT IN MAN.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">And lo! amongst all these appear’d a creature,</div>
-      <div class="verse">So small, he almost might a twin have been,</div>
-      <div class="verse">With Miss Crachami&mdash;dwarfish quite in stature,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Yet well proportion’d&mdash;neither fat nor lean,</div>
-      <div class="verse">His face of marvellously pleasant feature.</div>
-      <div class="verse">So short and sweet a man was never seen&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">All thought him charming at the first beginning&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Alas, ere long they found him far too winning!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">He seem’d in love with chance&mdash;and chance repaid</div>
-      <div class="verse">His ardent passion with her fondest smile,</div>
-      <div class="verse">The sunshine of good luck, without a shade,</div>
-      <div class="verse">He staked and won&mdash;and won and staked&mdash;the bile</div>
-      <div class="verse">It stirr’d of many a man and many a maid,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To see at every venture how that vile</div>
-      <div class="verse">Small gambler snatch’d&mdash;and how he won them too&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">A living Pam, omnipotent at loo!</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_038" name="i_038">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_038.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">A TIDE-WAITER.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Miss Wiggins set her heart upon a box,</div>
-      <div class="verse">’Twas handsome, rosewood, and inlaid with brass,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And dreamt three times she garnish’d it with stocks,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of needles, silks, and cottons&mdash;but alas!</div>
-      <div class="verse">She lost it wide awake.&mdash;We thought Miss Cox</div>
-      <div class="verse">Was lucky&mdash;but she saw three caddies pass</div>
-      <div class="verse">To that small imp:&mdash;no living luck could loo him!</div>
-      <div class="verse">Sir Stamford would have lost his Raffles to him!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">And so he climb’d&mdash;and rode, and won&mdash;and walk’d,</div>
-      <div class="verse">The wondrous topic of the curious swarm</div>
-      <div class="verse">That haunted the Parade. Many were balk’d</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of notoriety by that small form</div>
-      <div class="verse">Pacing it up and down:&mdash;some even talk’d</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of ducking him&mdash;when lo! a dismal storm</div>
-      <div class="verse">Stepp’d in&mdash;one Friday, at the close of day&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And every head was turn’d another way&mdash;</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Watching the grander guest. It seem’d to rise</div>
-      <div class="verse">Bulky and slow upon the southern brink</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of the horizon&mdash;fann’d by sultry sighs&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">So black and threatening, I cannot think</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of any simile, except the skies</div>
-      <div class="verse">Miss Wiggins sometime <i>shades</i> in Indian ink&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse"><i>Miss</i>-shapen blotches of such heavy vapour,</div>
-      <div class="verse">They seem a deal more solid than her paper.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">As for the sea, it did not fret, and rave,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And tear its waves to tatters, and so dash on</div>
-      <div class="verse">The stony-hearted beach;&mdash;some bards would have</div>
-      <div class="verse">It always rampant, in that idle fashion,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Whereas the waves roll’d in, subdued and grave,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Like schoolboys, when the master’s in a passion,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Who meekly settle in and take their places,</div>
-      <div class="verse">With a very quiet awe on all their faces.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Some love to draw the ocean with a head,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Like troubled table-beer,&mdash;and make it bounce,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And froth and roar, and fling&mdash;but this, I’ve said,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Surged in scarce rougher than a lady’s flounce:&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">But then, a grander contrast thus it bred</div>
-      <div class="verse">With the wild welkin, seeming to pronounce</div>
-      <div class="verse">Something more awful in the serious ear,</div>
-      <div class="verse">As one would whisper that a lion’s near&mdash;</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Who just begins to roar; so the hoarse thunder</div>
-      <div class="verse">Growl’d long&mdash;but low&mdash;a prelude note of death,</div>
-      <div class="verse">As if the stifling clouds yet kept it under,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But still it mutter’d to the sea beneath</div>
-      <div class="verse">Such a continued peal, as made us wonder</div>
-      <div class="verse">It did not pause more oft to take its breath,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Whilst we were panting with the sultry weather,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And hardly cared to wed two words together,</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">But watch’d the surly advent of the storm,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Much as the brown-cheek’d planters of Barbadoes</div>
-      <div class="verse">Must watch a rising of the Negro swarm:&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Meantime it steer’d, like Odin’s old Armadas,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Right on our coast;&mdash;a dismal, coal-black form;&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Many proud gaits were quell’d&mdash;and all bravadoes</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of folly ceased&mdash;and sundry idle jokers</div>
-      <div class="verse">Went home to cover up their tongs and pokers.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">So fierce the lightning flashed. In all their days</div>
-      <div class="verse">The oldest smugglers had not seen such flashing,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And they are used to many a pretty blaze,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To keep their Hollands from an awkward clashing</div>
-      <div class="verse">With hostile cutters in our creeks and bays:&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And truly one could think without much lashing</div>
-      <div class="verse">The fancy, that those coasting clouds so awful</div>
-      <div class="verse">And black, were fraught with spirits as unlawful.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">The gay Parade grew thin&mdash;all the fair crowd</div>
-      <div class="verse">Vanish’d&mdash;as if they knew their own attractions,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">For now the lightning through a near hand cloud</div>
-      <div class="verse">Began to make some very crooked fractions&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Only some few remain’d that were not cow’d,</div>
-      <div class="verse">A few rough sailors, who had been in actions,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And sundry boatmen, that with quick yeo’s,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Lest it should <i>blow</i>,&mdash;were pulling up the <i>Rose</i>:</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">(No flower, but a boat)&mdash;some more hauling</div>
-      <div class="verse">The <i>Regent</i> by the head:&mdash;another crew</div>
-      <div class="verse">With that same cry peculiar to their <i>calling</i>&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Were heaving up the <i>Hope</i>:&mdash;and as they knew</div>
-      <div class="verse">The very gods themselves oft get a mauling</div>
-      <div class="verse">In their own realms, the seamen wisely drew</div>
-      <div class="verse">The <i>Neptune</i> rather higher on the beach,</div>
-      <div class="verse">That he might lie beyond his billows’ reach.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">And now the storm, with its despotic power</div>
-      <div class="verse">Had all usurp’d the azure of the skies,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Making our daylight darker by an hour,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And some few drops&mdash;of an unusual size&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Few and distinct&mdash;scarce twenty to the shower,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Fell like huge tear-drops from a Giant’s eyes&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">But then this sprinkle thicken’d in a trice</div>
-      <div class="verse">And rain’d much <i>harder</i>&mdash;in good solid ice.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Oh! for a very storm of words to show</div>
-      <div class="verse">How this fierce crash of hail came rushing o’er us!</div>
-      <div class="verse">Handel would make the gusty organs blow</div>
-      <div class="verse">Grandly, and a rich storm in music score us!&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">But ev’n his music seem’d composed and low,</div>
-      <div class="verse">When we were <i>handled</i> by this Hailstone Chorus;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Whilst thunder rumbled, with its awful sound,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And frozen comfits roll’d along the ground&mdash;</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">As big as bullets:&mdash;Lord! how they did batter</div>
-      <div class="verse">Our crazy tiles:&mdash;And now the lightning flash’d</div>
-      <div class="verse">Alternate with the dark, until the latter</div>
-      <div class="verse">Was rarest of the two:&mdash;the gust too dash’d</div>
-      <div class="verse">So terribly, I thought the hail must shatter</div>
-      <div class="verse">Some panes,&mdash;and so it did&mdash;and first it smash’d</div>
-      <div class="verse">The very square where I had chose my station</div>
-      <div class="verse">To watch the general illumination.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Another, and another, still came in,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And fell in jingling ruin at my feet,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Making transparent holes that let me win</div>
-      <div class="verse">Some samples of the storm:&mdash;Oh! it was sweet</div>
-      <div class="verse">To think I had a shelter for my skin,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Culling them through these “loopholes of retreat”&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Which in a little we began to glaze&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Chiefly with a jacktowel and some baize!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">By which, the cloud had pass’d o’erhead, but play’d</div>
-      <div class="verse">Its crooked fires in constant flashes still,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Just in our rear, as though it had array’d</div>
-      <div class="verse">Its heavy batteries at Fairlight Mill,</div>
-      <div class="verse">So that it lit the town, and grandly made</div>
-      <div class="verse">The rugged features of the Castle Hill</div>
-      <div class="verse">Leap, like a birth, from chaos, into light,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And then relapse into the gloomy night&mdash;</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">As parcel of the cloud:&mdash;the clouds themselves,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Like monstrous crags and summits everlasting,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Piled each on each in most gigantic shelves,</div>
-      <div class="verse">That Milton’s devils were engaged in blasting.&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">We could e’en fancy Satan and his elves</div>
-      <div class="verse">Busy upon those crags, and ever casting</div>
-      <div class="verse">Huge fragments loose&mdash;and that we <i>felt</i> the sound</div>
-      <div class="verse">They made in falling to the startled ground.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">And so the tempest scowl’d away,&mdash;and soon,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Timidly shining through its skirts of jet,</div>
-      <div class="verse">We saw the rim of the pacific moon,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Like a bright fish entangled in a net,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Flashing its silver sides,&mdash;how sweet a boon,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Seem’d her sweet light, as though it would beget,</div>
-      <div class="verse">With that fair smile, a calm upon the seas&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Peace in the sky&mdash;and coolness in the breeze!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Meantime the hail had ceased:&mdash;and all the brood</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of glaziers stole abroad to count their gains;&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">At every window, there were maids who stood</div>
-      <div class="verse">Lamenting o’er the glass’s small remains,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or with coarse linens made the fractious good,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Stanching the wind in all the wounded panes,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or, holding candles to the panes, in doubt:</div>
-      <div class="verse">The wind resolved&mdash;blowing the candles out.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">No house was whole that had a southern front,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">No green-house but the same mishap befell:&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse"><i>Bow</i>-windows and <i>bell</i>-glasses bore the brunt,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">No sex in glass was spared!&mdash;For those who dwell</div>
-      <div class="verse">On each hill side, you might have swam a punt</div>
-      <div class="verse">In any of their parlours;&mdash;Mrs. Snell</div>
-      <div class="verse">Was slopp’d out of her seat,&mdash;and Mr. Hitchin</div>
-      <div class="verse">Had a <i>flow’r</i>-garden wash’d into a <i>Kitchen</i>.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_043" name="i_043">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_043.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">SHE FROM OCEAN RISING.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">But still the sea was mild, and quite disclaim’d</div>
-      <div class="verse">The recent violence.&mdash;Each after each</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">The gentle waves a gentle murmur framed,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Tapping, like Woodpeckers, the hollow beach.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Howbeit his <i>weather eye</i> the seaman aim’d</div>
-      <div class="verse">Across the calm, and hinted by his speech</div>
-      <div class="verse">A gale next morning&mdash;and when morning broke</div>
-      <div class="verse">There was a gale&mdash;“quite equal to bespoke.”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Before high water&mdash;(it were better far</div>
-      <div class="verse">To christen it not <i>water</i> then, but <i>waiter</i>,</div>
-      <div class="verse">For then the tide is <i>serving at the bar</i>)</div>
-      <div class="verse">Rose such a swell&mdash;I never saw one greater!</div>
-      <div class="verse">Black, jagged billows rearing up in war</div>
-      <div class="verse">Like ragged roaring bears against the baiter,</div>
-      <div class="verse">With lots of froth upon the shingle shed,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Like stout pour’d out with a fine <i>beachy head</i>.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">No open boat was open to a fare,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or launch’d that morn on seven-shilling trips;</div>
-      <div class="verse">No bathing woman waded&mdash;none would dare</div>
-      <div class="verse">A dipping in the wave&mdash;but waived their dips;</div>
-      <div class="verse">No seagull ventured on the stormy air,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And all the dreary coast was clear of ships;</div>
-      <div class="verse">For two <i>lea shores</i> upon the river Lea</div>
-      <div class="verse">Are not so perilous as one at sea.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Awe-struck we sat, and gazed upon the scene</div>
-      <div class="verse">Before us in such horrid hurly-burly,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">A boiling ocean of mix’d black and green,</div>
-      <div class="verse">A sky of copper colour, grim and surly,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">When lo, in that vast hollow scoop’d between</div>
-      <div class="verse">Two rolling Alps of water,&mdash;white and curly!</div>
-      <div class="verse">We saw a pair of little arms a-skimming,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Much like a first or last attempt at swimming!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Sometimes a hand&mdash;sometimes a little shoe&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Sometimes a skirt&mdash;sometimes a hank of hair,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Just like a dabbled seaweed, rose to view,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Sometimes a knee, sometimes a back was bare&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">At last a frightful summerset he threw</div>
-      <div class="verse">Right on the shingles. Any one could swear</div>
-      <div class="verse">The lad was dead&mdash;without a chance of perjury,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And batter’d by the surge beyond all surgery!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">However, we snatch’d up the corse thus thrown,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Intending, Christian-like, to sod and turf it,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And after venting Pity’s sigh and groan,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Then Curiosity began with <i>her</i> fit;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And lo! the features of the Small Unknown!</div>
-      <div class="verse">’Twas he that of the surf had had this surfeit!&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And in his fob, the cause of late monopolies!</div>
-      <div class="verse">We found a contract signed Mephistopheles!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A bond of blood, whereby the sinner gave</div>
-      <div class="verse">His forfeit soul to Satan in reversion,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Providing in this world he was to have</div>
-      <div class="verse">A lordship over luck, by whose exertion</div>
-      <div class="verse">He might control the course of cards, and brave</div>
-      <div class="verse">All throws of dice,&mdash;but on a sea excursion</div>
-      <div class="verse">The juggling Demon, in his usual vein,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Seized the last cast&mdash;and <i>Nick’d</i> him in the <i>main</i>!</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="LINES">LINES<br />
-
-<span class="s6">TO A LADY ON HER DEPARTURE FOR INDIA.</span></h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Go where the waves run rather Holborn-hilly,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And tempests make a soda-water sea,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Almost as rough as our rough Piccadilly,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft10">And think of me!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Go where the mild Madeira ripens <i>her</i> juice,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">A wine more praised that it deserves to be:</div>
-      <div class="verse">Go pass the Cape, just capable of ver-juice,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft10">And think of me!</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_046" name="i_046">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_046.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">KETCHING ITS PREY.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Go where the Tiger in the darkness prowleth</div>
-      <div class="verse">Making a midnight meal of he and she;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Go where the Lion in his hunger howleth,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft10">And think of me!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Go where the serpent dangerously coileth,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or lies along at full length like a tree,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Go where the Suttee in her own soot broileth,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft10">And think of me!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Go where with human notes the Parrot dealeth</div>
-      <div class="verse">In mono-<i>polly</i>-logue with tongue as free,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And like a woman, all she can revealeth,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft10">And think of me!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Go to the land of muslin and nankeening,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And parasols of straw where hats should be,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Go to the land of slaves and palankeening,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft10">And think of me!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Go to the land of Jungles and of vast hills,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And tall bamboos&mdash;may none <i>bamboozle</i> thee!</div>
-      <div class="verse">Go gaze upon their Elephants and Castles,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft10">And think of me!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Go where a cook must always be a currier,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And parch the pepper’d palate like a pea,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Go where the fierce musquito is a worrier,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft10">And think of me!</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_047" name="i_047">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_047.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“A SOW WESTER OFF THE CAPE:&mdash;PIGS IN THE
-  TROUGH OF THE SEA.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Go where the maiden on a marriage plan goes,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Consign’d for wedlock to Calcutta’s quay,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Where woman goes for mart, the same as mangoes,</div>
-     <div class="verse mleft10">And think of me!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Go where the sun is very hot and fervent,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Go to the land of pagod and rupee,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Where every black will be your slave and servant,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft10">And think of me!</div>
-    </div>
-
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_NELSON">THE NELSON.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza-heading">
-      <div class="verse">This here, your honour, upon wheels, is the true genuine real
-        <i>Nelson’s Car</i>.</div>
-     <div class="verse mleft17">G<span class="smaller">UIDE TO</span>
-        G<span class="smaller">REENWICH</span> H<span class="smaller">OSPITAL</span>.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p>“T<span class="smaller">HE</span> Nelson,” I repeated to myself, as I read that illustrious name on
-the dicky of the vehicle&mdash;“the Nelson.” My fancy instantly converted
-the coach into a first-rate, the leaders and wheelers into sea-horses,
-the driver into Neptunus, brandishing a trident, and the guard into a
-Triton blowing his wreathed shell. There was room for one on the box,
-so I climbed up, and took my seat beside the coachman. “Now, clap on
-all sail,” said I, audibly, “I am proud to be one of the crew of the
-great Nelson, the hero of Aboukir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Begging your pardon, Sir,” said the coachman, “the Hero ain’t a booker
-at Mrs. Nelson’s: it goes from some other yard.” Gracious powers! what
-a tumble down stairs for an idea! As for mine, it pitched on its head,
-as stunned and stupefied as if it had rolled down the whole flight
-at the Monument. “I have made a Bull, indeed,” I exclaimed, as the
-noted inn at Aldgate occurred to my memory; “but we are the slaves of
-association,” I continued, addressing the coachman, “and the name of
-Nelson identified itself with the Union Jack.”</p>
-
-<p>“I really can’t say,” replied the coachman, very civilly, “whether
-the name of Mrs. Nelson is down to the Slave Associations or not: but
-as for Jack, if you mean Jack Bunce, he’s been off the Union these
-six months. Too fond of the <i>Bar</i>, Sir” (here he tipped me the most
-significant of winks),<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> “to keep his seat on the <i>Bench</i>.”</p>
-
-<p>“I alluded, my good fellow, to Nelson, the wonder of the maritime
-world&mdash;the dauntless leader when yard was opposed to yard, and seas
-teemed with blood.”</p>
-
-<p>“We’re all right&mdash;as right as a trivet,” said the coachman, after a
-pause of perplexity; “I thought our notions were getting rather wide
-apart, and that one of us wanted putting straight; but I see what you
-mean, and quite go along with your opinion, step for step. To be sure,
-Mrs. Nelson has done the world and all for coaching; and the Wonder
-<i>is</i> the crack of all the drags in London, and so is the Dauntless,
-let yard turn out agin yard, as you say, any day you like. And as for
-leaders, and teams full of blood, there’s as pretty a sprinkling of
-blood in the tits I’m now tooling of&mdash;”</p>
-
-<p>“The vehicles of the proprietress, and the appearance of the animals,
-with their corresponding caparisons,” said I, “have often gratified my
-visual organs and elicited my mental plaudits.”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s exactly what <i>I</i> says,” replied the coachman, very briskly,
-“there’s no humbug nor no nonsense about Mrs. Nelson. You never see her
-a standing a-foaming and fretting in front o’ the Bank, with a regular
-mob round her, and looking as if she’d bolt with the Quicksilver. And
-you never see her painted all over her body, wherever there’s room for
-’em, with Saracen Heads, and Blue Boars, and Brown Bears, from her
-roller bolts to her dicky and hind boot. She’s plain and neat, and
-nothin’ else&mdash;and is fondest of having her body of a claret colour,
-pick’d out with white, and won’t suffer the Bull, no where, except on
-the back-gammon board.”</p>
-
-<p>I know not how much further the whimsical description might have gone,
-if a strapping, capless, curly-headed lass, running with all her might
-and main, had not addressed a screaming retainer to the coachman. With
-some difficulty he pulled up, for he had been tacitly giving me a proof
-that the craft of <i>his</i> Nelson was a first-rate, with regard to its
-rate of travelling.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“If you please, Mr. Stevens,” said the panting damsel, holding up
-something towards the box&mdash;“if you please, Mr. Stevens, mother’s gone
-to Lonnon&mdash;in the light cart&mdash;and will you be so kind as to give
-her&mdash;her linchpin.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Stevens took the article with a smile, and I fancied with a sly
-squeeze of the hand that delivered it.</p>
-
-<p>“If such a go had been anyone’s but your mother’s, Fanny,” he slyly
-remarked, “I should have said it was somebody in love.” The Dispatch
-was too strictly timed to allow of further parley; the horses broke, or
-were rather broken, into a gallop, in pursuit of the mother of Fanny,
-the Flower of Waltham; and the pin secretly acting as a spur, we did
-the next five mile in something like twenty minutes.</p>
-
-<p>In spite, however, of this unusual speed, we never overtook Mrs.
-Merryweather and her cart till we arrived at the Basing-House, where we
-found her chirping over a cup of ale; as safe and sound as if linchpins
-had never been invented; in fact, she made as light of the article,
-when it was handed to her, as if it had been only a pin out of her gown!</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_050" name="i_050">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_050.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">FANCY PORTRAIT&mdash;MRS. NELSON.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>“Well, I must say one thing for Mrs. Nelson,” said our coachman, as he
-resumed his seat on the box,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> “and that’s this. There’s no pinning at
-the Bull. She sets her face against everything but the patent boxes.
-She may come to a runaway with a bolter&mdash;or drop the ribbons&mdash;or make a
-mistake in clearing a gate, by being a little lushy&mdash;but you’ll never
-see Mrs. Nelson lying flat on her side in the middle of the road, with
-her insides gone to smash, and her outsides well distributed, because
-she’s been let go out of the yard without one of her pins.”</p>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_051" name="i_051">
-   <img class="mtop3" src="images/i_051.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption">THE STAMP DUTY ON SCOTCH LINEN.</p>
-</div>
-
-<h2 class="nopad" id="SONNET_SCOTCH_GIRL">SONNET<br />
-
-<span class="s6">TO A SCOTCH GIRL, WASHING LINEN AFTER HER COUNTRY FASHION.</span></h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">W<span class="smaller">ELL</span> done and wetly, thou Fair Maid of Perth,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Thou mak’st a washing picture well deserving</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The pen and pencilling of Washington Irving:</div>
-      <div class="verse">Like dripping Naiad, pearly from her birth,</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Dashing about the water of the Firth,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">To cleanse the calico of Mrs. Skirving,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And never from thy dance of duty swerving</div>
-      <div class="verse">As there were nothing else than dirt on earth!</div>
-      <div class="verse">Yet what is thy reward? Nay, do not start!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">I do not mean to give thee a new damper,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But while thou fillest this industrious part</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Of washer, wearer, mangler, presser, stamper,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Deserving better character&mdash;thou art</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">What Bodkin would but call&mdash;“a common tramper.”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="MY_APOLOGY">MY APOLOGY.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p>G<span class="smaller">ENTLE</span> R<span class="smaller">EADERS</span>,</p>
-
-<p class="p1">For the present month, there must be what Dr. Johnson called a solution
-of continuity in my “Literary Reminiscences.” Confined to my chamber
-by what ought to be termed <i>room</i>atism&mdash;then attacked by my old
-livery complaint&mdash;and finally, by a minor, but troublesome malady,
-the Present has too much prevailed over the Past, to let me indulge
-in any retrospective reviews. In such cases, on the stage, when a
-Performer is unable to support his character, a substitute is usually
-found to read the part; but, unfortunately, in the present case there
-is no part written, and consequently it cannot be read. But apropos of
-theatricals&mdash;there is an anecdote on point.</p>
-
-<p>In the Olympic days of the great Elliston, there was one evening a
-tremendous tumult at his Theatre, in consequence of the absence of a
-favourite performer. One man in the pit&mdash;a Butcher&mdash;was especially
-vociferous in his cry for “Carl! Carl! Carl!” Others called for the
-Manager, who duly made his appearance, and black as the weather
-looked, he was the very sort of pilot to weather the storm. With one
-of his princely bows<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> he proceeded to address the House. “Ladies
-and Gentlemen&mdash;but by your leave I will address myself to a single
-individual. I will ask that gentleman (pointing to the vociferous
-Butcher) what right he has to demand the appearance of Mr. Carl?”</p>
-
-<p>“’Cos,” said the Butcher, “’cos he’s down in the Bill.” Such an
-undeniable answer would have staggered any other Manager than Elliston,
-but he was not easily to be disconcerted. “Because he is down in the
-bill!” he echoed, in a tone of the loftiest indignation: “Ladies and
-Gentlemen, the Mr. Carl, so unseasonably, so vociferously and so
-unfeelingly called for, is at this very moment labouring under severe
-illness&mdash;he is in bed. And let me ask, is a man, a fellow-creature,
-a human being, to be torn from his couch, from his home, on a cold
-night, from the affectionate attentions of his wife and family, at
-the risk of his valuable life perhaps, to go through a fatiguing part
-because he happens to be DOWN IN THE BILL?” [Cries of “Shame, shame!”
-from all parts of the house.] “And yet, ladies and gentlemen, there
-stands a man&mdash;if I may call him so&mdash;a Butcher, that for his own selfish
-gratification&mdash;the amusement of a few short hours&mdash;would risk the very
-existence of a deserving member of society, a good husband, father,
-friend, and one of your favourite actors, and all, forsooth, because
-he is DOWN IN THE BILL!” [Universal hooting, with cries of “Turn him
-out.”] “By all means,” acquiesced the Manager, with one of his best
-bows&mdash;and the indignant pittites actually hooted and kicked their own
-champion out of the theatre, as something more than a Butcher, and less
-than a Christian.</p>
-
-<p>Now I am myself, gentle readers, in the same predicament with Mr.
-Carl. Like him I am an invalid&mdash;and like him I am unfortunately down
-in the Bill. It would not become me to set forth my own domestic or
-social virtues, or to hint what sort of gap my loss would make in
-society&mdash;still less would it consist with modesty to compare myself
-with a favourite actor&mdash;but as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> a mere human being I throw myself on
-your mercy, and ask, in common charity, would you have had me leave
-my warm bed, to shiver in a printer’s damp sheets, at the risk of my
-reputation perhaps, and for the mere amusement of some half hour, or
-more probably for no amusement at all&mdash;simply because I was “<i>down in
-the Bill</i>?”</p>
-
-<p>But there is no such Butcher, or Butcheress, or little Butcherling,
-amongst you; and by your good leave and patience, the instalment of my
-Reminiscences that is over due, shall be paid with interest in the NEXT
-NUMBER.</p>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_054" name="i_054">
-   <img class="mtop3" src="images/i_054.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption">THE TOP OF HIS PROFESSION.</p>
-</div>
-
-<h2 class="nopad" id="SONNET_TO_A_DECAYED_SEAMAN">SONNET TO A DECAYED SEAMAN.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">H<span class="smaller">AIL</span>! seventy-four cut down! Hail, Top and Lop!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Unless I’m much mistaken in my notion,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Thou wast a stirring Tar, before that hop</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Became so fatal to thy locomotion;&mdash;</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Now, thrown on shore, like a mere weed of ocean,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Thou readest still to men a lesson good,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To King and Country showing thy devotion,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">By kneeling thus upon a stump of wood!</div>
-      <div class="verse">Still is thy spirit strong as alcohol;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Spite of that limb, begot of acorn-egg,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Methinks,&mdash;thou Naval History in one Vol.&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A virtue shines, e’en in that timber leg,</div>
-      <div class="verse">For unlike others that desert their Poll,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Thou walkest ever with thy “Constant Peg!”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_GREAT_CONFLAGRATION">THE GREAT CONFLAGRATION.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="center mbot2"><i>Dreadful Fire&mdash;Destruction of both Houses of Parliament&mdash;The Speaker’s
-House gutted&mdash;Reports of Incendiarism.</i></p>
-
-<p>I<span class="smaller">T</span> is our unexpected lot to announce that the Houses of Lords and
-Commons, so often threatened with combustion, are in a state of actual
-ignition. At this moment, both fabrics are furiously burning. We are
-writing this paragraph without the aid of lamp or candles; by the mere
-reflection of the flames. Nothing is known of the origin of the fire,
-although it is throwing a light upon everything else.&mdash;<i>Evening Star.</i></p>
-
-<p>The devouring element which destroyed Covent Garden and Drury Lane,
-the Royalty and the Pantheon, has made its appearance on a new stage,
-equally devoted to declamatory elocution. St. Stephen’s Chapel is in
-flames! The floor which was trodden by the eloquent legs of a Fox,
-a Burke, a Pitt, and a Sheridan, is reduced to a heap of ashes; and
-the benches which sustained the Demosthenic weight of a Wyndham, a
-Whitbread, and a Wilberforce, are a mere mass of charcoal. The very
-roof that re-echoed the classicalities of Canning is nodding to its
-fall. In Parliamentary language, Fire is in possession of the House:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>
-the Destructive spirit is on its legs, and the Conservative principle
-can offer but a feeble opposition.&mdash;<i>Daily Post.</i></p>
-
-<p>The blow is struck. What we have long foreseen has come to pass.
-Incendiarism triumphs! The whole British Empire, as represented by the
-three estates, is in a blaze! The Throne, the Lords, and the Commons,
-are now burning. The cycle is complete. The spirit of Guy Fawkes
-revives in 1834!</p>
-
-<p>England seems to have changed places with Italy; London with Naples.
-We stand hourly on the brink of a crater; every step we take is on
-a solfaterra&mdash;not a land of Sol Fa, as some musical people would
-translate it; but a frail crust, with a treacherous subsoil of ardent
-brimstone! At length the eyes of our rulers are opened; but we must
-ask, could nothing short of such an eruption awaken them to a sense
-of the perilous state of the country? For weeks, nay, months past, at
-the risk of being considered alarmists, we have called the attention
-of the legislature and magistracy to a variety of suspicious symptoms
-and signs of the times, and in particular to the multiplied chemical
-inventions, for the purpose of obtaining instantaneous lights. Well
-are certain matches or fire-boxes called Lucifers, for they may be
-applied to the most diabolical purposes! The origin of the fire cannot
-raise the shadow of a doubt in any reasonable mind. Accident is out
-of the question. Tell us not of tallies. We have just tried our
-milk-woman’s, and it contained so much water, that nothing could make
-it ignite.&mdash;<i>Britannic Guardian</i>.</p>
-
-<p>The Houses of Parliament are in flames. We shall stop the press to give
-full particulars. Our reporters are at the spot, and Mons. C&mdash;&mdash;, the
-celebrated Salamander, is engaged to give a description of the blazing
-<i>interiors</i>, exclusively for this journal.&mdash;<i>Daily Times.</i></p>
-
-<p class="center mtop2 mbot1"><i>From a Correspondent.</i></p>
-
-<p>On Thursday evening, towards seven o’clock, I was struck by the
-singular appearance of the moon silvering the opposite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> chimneys with
-a blood-red light, a lunar phenomenon, which I conceived belonged
-only to our theatres. It speedily occurred to me that there must be
-a conflagration in my vicinity, and after a little hunting by scent
-as well as sight, I found myself in front of the Houses of Lords
-and Commons, which were burning with a rapidity and brilliancy that
-I make bold to say did not always characterise their proceedings.
-By favour of my natural assurance, which seemed to identify me with
-the firemen, I was allowed to pass through the lines of guards and
-policemen, who surrounded the blazing pile, and was thus enabled to
-select a favourable position for overlooking the whole scene. It was
-an imposing sight. The flames rose from the Peers’ in a volume, as red
-as the Extraordinary Red Book, and the House of Commons was not at
-all behind-hand in voting supplies of timber and other combustibles.
-Westminster Hall reminded me vividly of a London cry, “Hall hot, Hall
-hot,” that was familiar in our childhood&mdash;and the Gothic architecture
-of the Abbey seemed unusually <i>florid</i>. Instead of dingy stone, the
-venerable pile appeared to be built of the well-baked brick of the
-Elizabethan age. Indeed, so red-hot was its aspect, that it led to a
-ludicrous misapprehension on the part of the populace. A procession,
-bearing several male and female figures in a state of insensibility,
-naturally gave rise to the most painful conjectures, inferring loss of
-human life by the devouring element, but I have reason to believe it
-was only the Dean and Chapter saving the Wax-Work. As far as my own
-observation went, the first object carried out certainly bore a strong
-resemblance to General Monk.</p>
-
-<p>In the meantime a select party had effected an entrance into the Hall,
-but not without some serious delay, occasioned, I believe, by somebody
-within bringing the wrong key, that belonged to a tea-caddy. However,
-at last they entered, and I followed their example. The first person
-I beheld was the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> veteran Higginbottom, so unfairly, but facetiously,
-put to death by the authors of the Rejected Addresses; for no man is
-more alive to his duty. But he was sadly hampered. First came one
-Hon. Gent. said to be Mr. Morrison, and insisted on directing the
-<i>Hose</i> department; and next arrived a noble Lord from Crockford’s, who
-wouldn’t sit out, but persisted in taking a hand, and playing, though
-every body agreed that he played too high. I mention this, because some
-of the journals have imputed mismanagement to the engines, and have
-insinuated that the pipes wanted organising; indeed, I myself overheard
-a noble director of the Academy of Music lamenting that the firemen did
-not “play in concert.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_058" name="i_058">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_058.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">PLAYING AT HAZARD.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>The same remark applies with greater force to the House of Commons.
-Here all was confusion worse confounded, and Higginbottom’s station
-was enviable, compared with that of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> some of the poor fellows in St.
-Stephen’s Chapel. A considerable number of members had arrived, and
-without any attention to their usual parliamentary rules, were all
-making motions at once, which nobody seconded. The most prominent,
-I was informed, were Mr. Hume, Mr. O’Connell, Mr. Attwood, Mr.
-Buckingham, Mr. Pease, Sir Andrew, and Mr. Buxton&mdash;the latter almost
-covered with blacks. The clamour was terrific, and I really expected
-that the poor foremen who held the pipes would be torn in pieces. Every
-body wanted to command the Coldstream. Nothing but shouts of “Here!
-here! here!” answered like an Irish echo by cries of “There! there!
-there!” “Oh, save my savings!”&mdash;“My poor, Poor Bill!” “More water&mdash;more
-water for my Drunkenness!” “Work awa, lads, work awa&mdash;it’s no the
-Sabbath, and ye may just play at what ye like!”</p>
-
-<p>In pleasing contrast to this tumult, was the unusual and cordial
-unanimity of the members of both Houses, in rescuing whatever was
-portable from the flames. It was a delightful novelty to see the
-Lords helping the Commons in whatever they moved or carried. No party
-spirit&mdash;no Whig, pulling at one leg of the table, whilst a Tory tugged
-at another in the opposite direction. They seemed to belong to the
-Hand-in-Hand. Peers and Commoners were alike seen burthened with loads
-of papers or furniture. Mr. Calvert, in particular, worked like any
-porter. Of course, in rescuing the papers and parchments, there was no
-time for inspecting their contents, and some curious results were the
-consequence. Every body remembers the pathetic story in the Tatler,
-of the lover who saved a strange lady from a burning theatre, under
-the idea that he was preserving the mistress of his affections, and
-some similar mistakes are currently reported to have occurred at the
-late conflagration&mdash;and equally to the chagrin of the parties. I go
-by hearsay, and cannot vouch for the facts, but it is said that the
-unpopular Six Acts,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> including what I believe is called the Gagging
-Act, were actually preserved by Mr. Cobbett. Mr. O’Connell saved the
-Irish Coercion Bill, whilst the Reform Bill was snatched like “a brand
-out of the fire,” by a certain noble Duke, who resolutely set his face
-against it in all its stages! Amongst others, Mr. Ricardo saved an old
-tattered flag, which he thought was “the standard of value.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_060" name="i_060">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_060.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">CRIBBAGE:&mdash;ONE FOR HIS NOB AND TWO FOR HIS HEELS.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>However deficient in general combination, and concentration of
-energies, individual efforts were beyond all praise. The instances of
-personal exertion and daring were numerous. Mr. Rice worked amidst
-the flames till he was nearly baked; and everybody expected that Mr.
-Pease would be parched. The greatest danger was from the melted metal
-pouring down from the windows and roof. The heads of some of the Hon.
-Gentle<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>men were literally nothing but lead. Great apprehensions were
-entertained of the falling in of one of the walls, which eventually
-gave way, but fortunately everybody had retreated on the timely warning
-of a gentleman, Mr. O’Connell, I believe, who declared that he saw a
-Rent in it.</p>
-
-<p>I did not enter the House of Lords, which was now one mass of glowing
-fire, but directed my attention towards the Speaker’s mansion, which
-was partially burning. The garden behind was nearly filled with
-miscellaneous property&mdash;and numbers of well-dressed gentlemen were
-every moment rushing into the house, from which they issued again,
-laden with spits, sauce-pans, and other culinary implements. I, myself,
-saw one zealous individual thus encumbered&mdash;with a stew-pan on his
-head, the meat-screen under one arm, the dripping-pan under the other,
-the frying-pan in his right hand, the grid-iron in his left, and the
-rolling-pin in his mouth. Indeed, it is said that every article in the
-kitchen was saved down to the salt-box; and the cook declares that such
-was the anxiety to save her she was “cotched up in twelve gentlemen’s
-arms, and never felt her feet till the corner of Abingdon Street.”</p>
-
-<p>The whole of the Foot Guards were in attendance, as well as a
-great number of the police, but the thieves had mustered in great
-force, and there was a good deal of plundering, which was however
-checked temporarily by a gentleman said to be one of the members and
-magistrates for Essex, who jumped up on a railing and addressed the
-populace to the following effect, “How do you hall dare!”</p>
-
-<p>The origin of the fire is involved in much mystery; nor is it correctly
-ascertained by whom it was first discovered. Some say that one of the
-serjeants, in taking up the insignia, was astonished to find the mace
-as hot as ginger. Others relate that a Mr. Spell, or Shell, or Snell,
-whilst viewing the House, although no dancer, began suddenly, and in
-his boots, to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> utter amazement of his companions and Mrs. Wright,
-the housekeeper, to jump and caper like a bear upon a hotted floor.
-This story certainly seems to countenance a report that the mischief
-originated in the warming apparatus, an opinion that is very current,
-but, for my own part, I cannot conceive that the Collective Wisdom,
-which knows how to lay down laws for us all, should not know how to lay
-down flues. Rumours of Incendiarism are also very generally prevalent,
-and stories are in circulation of the finding of half-burnt matches and
-other combustibles. But these facts rest on very frail foundations. The
-links said to have been found in the Speaker’s garden have turned out
-to be nothing but German sausages; and another cock-and-a-bull that has
-got abroad will probably come to no better end. A Mr. Dudley affirms
-that he smelt the fire before it broke out, at Cooper’s Hill; but such
-olfactories are too much like manufactories to be believed.</p>
-
-<p class="right mright1">
-<span class="mright1">I am, Sir, your most obedient Servant,</span><br />
-X. Y. Z.</p>
-
-<p class="center mtop2 mbot1"><i>Another Account.</i></p>
-
-<p>The writer of these lines, who resides in Lambeth, was first awakened
-to a sense of conflagration by a cry of “Fire” from a number of persons
-who were running in the direction of Westminster Bridge. Owning myself
-a warm enthusiast on the subject of ignition, and indeed not having
-missed a fire for the last fifty years, except one, and that was only a
-chimney, it may be supposed the exclamation in question had an electric
-effect. We are all the slaves of some physical bias, strange as it may
-appear to others with opposite tendencies. It is recorded of some great
-marshal that he disliked music, but testified the liveliest pleasure at
-a salvo of artillery or a roll of thunder, and the rumble of an engine
-has the same effect on the author of these lines. To say I am a guebre,
-or fire-worshipper, is only to confess the truth. I have a sort of
-observatory erected on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> the roof of my house, from which, if there be a
-break-out within the circuit of the metropolis, it may be discovered,
-and before going to bed I invariably visit this look-out.</p>
-
-<p>Every man has his hobby-horse, and, figuratively speaking, mine was
-always kept harnessed and ready to run to a fire with the first engine.
-Many a time I have arrived before the turncocks, though I perhaps had
-to traverse half London, and I scarcely remember an instance that I
-did not appear long before the water. Habit is second nature&mdash;I verily
-believe I could sniff a conflagration by instinct; and if I was not, I
-ought to have been, the trainer of the firemen’s dog, which at present
-attracts so much of the public attention, by his eager running along
-with the Sun, the Globe, the British, and the Hand-in-Hand.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_063" name="i_063">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_063.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“’TIS DISTANCE LENDS ENCHANTMENT TO THE VIEW.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Of course I have seen a great many fires in my time&mdash;Rotherhithe,
-the theatres, the Custom-house, &amp;c. &amp;c. I remember in the days of
-Thistlewood and Co., when the metropolis was expected to be set on
-fire, I slept for three weeks in my clothes in order to be ready for
-the first alarm; for I had the good fortune to witness the great riots
-of 1780, when no less than eight fires were blazing at once, and a
-lamentable sight it was.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> I say lamentable, because it was impossible
-to be present at them all at the same time; but my good genius directed
-me to Langdale’s the Distiller, which made (excuse the vulgar popular
-phrase) a very satisfactory flare-up.</p>
-
-<p>The Rotherhithe fire, not the recent little job, but some fifteen
-or twenty years ago, was also on a grand scale, and very lasting.
-The engine-pipes were wilfully cut; and I remember some of my
-friends rallying me on my well-known propensity, jocularly accusing
-me of lending my knife and my assistance. The Custom-house was a
-disappointment; it certainly cleared itself effectually, but it was
-done by day-light, and consequently the long-room fell short of my
-anticipations. Drury-lane and Covent-garden were better: but I have
-observed generally that theatres burn with more attention to stage
-effect. They avoid the noon; a dark night to a fire is like the black
-letters in a benefit-bill, setting off the red ones.</p>
-
-<p>The destruction of the Kent Indiaman I should like to have witnessed,
-but contrary to the opinion of many experienced amateurs I conceive
-the Dartford Mills must have been a failure. Powder magazines make
-very indifferent conflagrations; they are no sooner on fire than they
-are off,&mdash;all is over before you know where you are, and there is no
-getting under, which quite puts you out. But fires, generally, are not
-what they used to be. What with gas, and new police, steam, and one
-cause or other, they have become what one might call slow explosions.
-A body of flame bursts from all the windows at once, and before B 25
-can call fi-er in two syllables, the roof falls in, and all is over.
-It was not so in <i>my</i> time. First a little smoke would issue from a
-window-shutter, like the puff of a cigar, and after a long spring of
-his rattle, the rheumatic watchman had time to knock double and treble
-knocks, from No. 9 to No. 35, before a spark made its appearance out of
-the chimney-pot. The Volunteers had time to assemble under arms, and
-muffle their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> drums, and the bell-ringers to collect in the belfry, and
-pull an alarm peal backwards. The parish engines even, although pulled
-along by the pursy churchwardens, and the paralytic paupers, contrived
-to arrive before the fire fairly broke out in the shape of a little
-squib-like eruption from the garret-window. The affrighted family,
-fourteen in number, all elaborately drest in their best Sunday clothes,
-saved themselves by the street-door, according to seniority, the
-furniture was carefully removed, and after an hour’s pumping, the fire
-was extinguished without extending beyond the room where it originated,
-namely a bed-room on the second floor. Such was the progress <i>in my
-time</i> of a fire, but it is the fashion now to sacrifice everything
-to <i>pace</i>. Look at our race-horses, and look at our fox-hounds,&mdash;and
-I will add look at our conflagrations. All that is cared for is a
-burst&mdash;no matter how short, if it be but rapid. The devouring element
-never sits down now to a regular meal&mdash;it pitches on a house and
-<i>bolts</i> it.</p>
-
-<p>But I am wandering from the point. The announcement of both Houses of
-Parliament being in flames thrilled through every fibre. It seemed
-to promise what I may call a crowning event to the Conflagrationary
-Reminiscences of an Octogenarian. I snatched up my hat, and rushed into
-the street, at eighty years of age, with the alacrity of eighteen, when
-I ran from Highgate to Horselydown, to be present at the gutting of a
-ship chandler’s. As the bard says&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Ev’n in our ashes live their wonted <i>fires</i>,”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="p0">and I could almost have supposed myself a fireman belonging to the
-Phœnix. My first step into the street discouraged me, the moonlight was
-so brilliant, and in such cases the most splendid blaze is somewhat
-“shorn of its beams.” But a few steps reassured me. Even at the Surrey
-side of the river the sparks and burning particles were falling like
-flakes of snow&mdash;I mean of course the red snow formerly discovered by
-Captain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> Ross, and the light was so great that I could have read the
-small print of the Police Gazette with the greatest ease, only I don’t
-take it in. I of course made the best of my way towards the scene, but
-the crowd was already so dense that I could only attain a situation on
-the Strand opposite Cotton Gardens, up to my knees in mud. Both Houses
-of Parliament were at this time in a blaze, and no doubt presented as
-striking objects of conflagration as the metropolis could offer. I say,
-“no doubt,”&mdash;forgetting jammed against a barge with my back towards
-the fire, I am unable to state anything on my own authority as an
-eye-witness, excepting that the buildings on the Surreyside exhibited
-a glowing reflection for some hours. At last the flowing of the tide
-caused the multitude to retreat, and releasing me from my retrospective
-position allowed me to gaze upon the ruins. By what I hear, it was a
-most imposing sight&mdash;but in spite of my Lord Althorpe, I cannot help
-thinking that Westminster Hall, with its long range, would have made
-up an admirable fire. Neither can I agree with the many that it was an
-Incendiary Act, that passed through both houses so rapidly. To enjoy
-the thing, a later hour and a darker night would certainly have been
-chosen. Fire-light and moon-light do not <i>mix well</i>:&mdash;they are best
-<i>neat</i>.</p>
-
-<p class="right mright1">
-<span class="mright1">I am, Sir, Yours, &amp;c.,</span><br />
-S<span class="smaller">ENEX</span>.</p>
-
-<p class="center mtop2 mbot1"><i>Various Accounts.</i></p>
-
-<p>W<span class="smaller">E</span> are concerned to state that Sir Jacob Jubb the new member for Shrops
-was severely burnt, by taking his seat in the House, on a bench that
-was burning under him. The danger of his situation was several times
-pointed out to him, but he replied that his seat had cost him ten
-thousand pounds, and he wouldn’t quit. He was at length removed by
-force.&mdash;<i>Morning Ledger.</i></p>
-
-<p>A great many foolish anecdotes of the fire are in circulation.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> One
-of our contemporaries gravely asserts that the Marquis of Culpepper
-was the last person who left the South Turret, a fact we beg leave to
-question, for the exquisite reason that noble lord alluded to is at
-present at Constantinople.&mdash;<i>The Real Sun.</i></p>
-
-<p>We are enabled to state that the individual who displayed so much
-coolness in the South Turret was Captain Back.&mdash;<i>The Public Journal.</i></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_067" name="i_067">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_067.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">FANCY PORTRAIT:&mdash;CAPTAIN BACK.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>It is said that considerable interest was evinced by the members of the
-House of Commons who were present at the fire, as to the fate of their
-respective Bills. One honourable gentleman, in particular, was observed
-anxiously watching the last scintillations of some burnt paper. “Oh, my
-Sabbath Observances!” he exclaimed, “There’s an end of religion! There
-go the Parson and Clerk!”&mdash;<i>Public Diary.</i></p>
-
-<p>The Earl of M. had a very narrow escape. His lordship was on the point
-of kicking a bucket when a labourer rushed forward and snatched it out
-of the way. The individual’s name is M’Farrel. We understand he is a
-sober, honest, hard-working man, and has two wives, and a numerous
-family; the eldest not above a year old.&mdash;<i>Daily Chronicle.</i></p>
-
-<p>The exclamation of a noble lord, high in office, who was very active
-at the fire, has been very incorrectly given. The words were as
-follows:&mdash;“Blow the Commons! let ’em flare up&mdash;but oh,&mdash;for a save-all!
-a save-all.”&mdash;<i>Morning News.</i></p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>The public attention has been greatly excited by the extraordinary
-statement of a commercial gentleman, that he smelt the fire at the Cock
-and Bottle, in Coventry. He asserts that he mentioned the fact in the
-commercial room to a deaf gentleman, and likewise to a dumb waiter, but
-neither have any recollection of the circumstance. He has been examined
-before the Common Council, who have elicited that he actually arrived
-at Coventry on the night in question, by the Tallyho, and the near
-leader of that coach has been sent for by express.&mdash;<i>New Monitor.</i></p>
-
-<p>We were in error in stating that the Atlas was the first engine at
-the scene of action. So early as five o’clock Mr. Alderman A. arrived
-with his own garden engine, and began immediately to play upon the
-Thames.&mdash;<i>British Guardian.</i></p>
-
-<p>It must have struck everyone who witnessed the operations in the House
-of Commons, that there was a lamentable want of “order! order! order!”
-A great many gentlemen succeeded in making pumps of themselves, without
-producing any check on the flames. The conduct of the military also was
-far from unexceptionable. On the arrival of the Coldstream at the fire
-they actually refused to fall in. Many declined to stand at ease on the
-burning rafters&mdash;but what is the public interest to a private?&mdash;<i>Public
-Advertiser.</i></p>
-
-<p class="center mtop2 mbot1"><i>Monsieur C.’s Account. (Exclusive.)</i></p>
-
-<p>W<span class="smaller">HEN</span> I am come first to the fire it was not long burnt up; and I was
-oblige to walk up and down the floor to keep myself warm. At last, I
-take my seat on the stove, quite convenient to look about. In the House
-of Commons there was nobody, and I am all alone. The first thing I
-observe was a great many rats, ratting about&mdash;but they did not known
-which way to turn. So they were all burnt dead. The flames grew very
-fast; and I am interested very much with the seats, how they burned,
-quite different from one another. Some seats made what you call a great
-splutter, and popped and bounced, and some other seats<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> made no noise
-at all. Mr. Bulwer’s place burned of a blue colour; Mr. Buckstone’s
-turned quite black; and there was one made a flame the colour of a
-drab. I observe one green flame and one orange, side by side, and they
-hiss and roar at one another very furious. The gallery cleared itself
-quite quickly, and the seat of Messieurs the reporters, exploded itself
-like a cannon of forty-eight pounds. The speaking chair burnt without
-any sound at all.</p>
-
-<p>When everything is quite done in the Commons I leave them off, and go
-to the House of Lords, where the fire was all in one sheet, and almost
-the whole of its inside burnt out. I was able in this room to take
-off my great coat. I could find nothing to be saved except one great
-ink-stand, that was red hot, and which I carry away in my two hands.
-Likewise here, as well as in the Commons, I bottled up several bottles
-of smoke, to distribute afterwards, at five guineas a-piece, and may be
-more; for I know the English people admire such things, and are fond
-after reliques, like a madness almost. I did not make a long stop, for
-whenever I was visible, the pompiers was so foolish as play water upon
-me, and I was afraid of a catch-cold. In fact, when I arrive at home,
-I find myself stuffed in my head, and fast in my chest, and my throat
-was a little horse. I am going for it into a bath of boiling water, and
-cannot write any more at full length.</p>
-
-<p class="center mtop2 mbot1"><i>A Letter to a Labouring Man.</i></p>
-
-<p>B<span class="smaller">USHELL</span>,</p>
-
-<p class="p1">When you made a holiday last Whitsuntide to see the Sights of London,
-in your way to the Waxwork and Westminster Abbey, you probably noticed
-a vast pile of buildings in Palace Yard, and you stood and scratched
-that shock head of yours, and wondered whose fine houses they were.
-Seeing you to be a country clodpole, no doubt some well-dressed
-vagabond, by way of putting a hoax upon the hawbuck, told you that in
-those<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> buildings congregated all the talent, all the integrity and
-public spirit of the country&mdash;that beneath those roofs the best and
-wisest, and the most honest men to be found in three kingdoms, met
-to deliberate and enact the most wholesome, and just, and judicious
-laws for the good of the nation. He called them the oracles of our
-constitution, the guardians of our rights, and the assertors of our
-liberties. Of course, Bushell, you were told all this; but nobody told
-you, I dare say, that within those walls your master had lifted up his
-voice, and delivered the only sound, rational, and wholesome, upright,
-and able speeches that were ever uttered in St. Stephen’s Chapel. No,
-nobody told you that. But when I come home, Bushell, I will lend you
-all my printed speeches, and when you have spelt them, and read them,
-and studied them, and got them by heart, bumpkin as you are,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> Bushell,
-you will know as much of legislation as all our precious members
-together.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_070" name="i_070">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_070.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“OUR CONSTITUTION’S GONE!”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Well, Bushell, the fine houses you stood gaping at are burnt down,
-gutted, as the vulgar call it, and nothing is left but the bare walls.
-You saw Farmer Gubbins’ house, or, at least, the shell of it, after
-the fire there: well, the Parliament Houses are exactly in the same
-state. There is news for you! and now, Bushell, how do you feel? Why,
-if the well-dressed vagabond told you the truth, you feel as if you had
-had a stroke&mdash;for all the British Constitution is affected, and you
-are a fraction of it, that is to say, a British subject. Your bacon
-grows rusty in your mouth, and your table-beer turns to vinegar on your
-palate. You cannot sleep at night, or work by day. You have no heart
-for anything. You can hardly drag one clouted shoe after another. And
-how do you look? Why, as pale as a parsnip, and as thin as a hurdle,
-and your carroty locks stand bolt upright as if you had just met old
-Lawson’s ghost with his head under his arm. I say thus you must feel
-and look, Bushell, if what the well-dressed vagabond told you is the
-truth. But is that the case? No. You drink your small-beer with a sigh
-and smack of delight; and you bolt your bacon with a relish, as if, as
-the virtuous Americans say, you could “go the whole hog.” Your clouted
-shoes clatter about as if you were counting hobnails with the Lord
-Mayor, and you work like a young horse, or an old ass, and at night
-you snore like an oratorio of jews’ harps. Your face is as bold and
-ruddy as the Red Lion’s. Your carroty locks lie sleek upon your poll,
-and as for poor old Lawson’s ghost, you could lend him flesh and blood
-enough to set him up again in life. But what, say you, does all this
-tend to? I will tell you, Bushell. There are a great many well-dressed
-vagabonds, besides the one you met in Palace Yard, who would persuade
-a poor man that a House of Lords or Commons is as good to him as his
-bread, beer, beef, bacon, bed, and breeches; and therefore I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> address
-this to you, Bushell, to set such notions to rights by an appeal to
-your own back and belly. And now I will tell you what you shall do. You
-shall go three nights a week to the Red Lion (when your work is done),
-and you may score up a pint of beer, at my cost, each time. And when
-the parson, or the exciseman, or the tax-gatherer, or any such gentry,
-begin to talk of that deplorable great burning, and the national
-calamity, and such-like trash, you shall pull out my letter and read
-to them&mdash;I say, Bushell, you shall read this letter to them, twice
-over, loudly and distinctly, and tell them from me, that the burning of
-twenty Parliament Houses wouldn’t be such a national calamity as a fire
-at No. 1, Bolt Court.</p>
-
-<div class="section mtop2">
-
-<h3>PRIVATE CORRESPONDENCE.</h3>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="center mbot1"><i>To Mary Price, Fenny Hall, Lincolnshire.</i></p>
-
-<p>O Mary,&mdash;I am writing in such a quiver, with my art in my mouth, and
-my tung sticking to it. For too hole hours Ive bean Doin nothink but
-taking on and going off, I mean into fits, or crying and blessing
-goodness for my miraclus escape. This day week I wear inwallopped in
-flams, and thinkin of roth to cum, and fire evverlasting. But thenks
-to Diving Providings, hear I am, althowgh with loss of wan high brew
-scotched off, a noo cap and my rite shew. But I hav bean terrifid to
-deth. Wen I was ate, or it mite be nine, I fell on the stow, and hav
-had a grate dred of fire evver since. Gudge then how low I felt at the
-idear of burning along with the Lords and Communer’s. It as bean a
-Warnin, and never, no, never never never agin will I go to Clandestiny
-parties behind Mississis backs. I now see my errer, but temtashun
-prevaled, tho the clovin fut of the Wicked Wan had a hand in it all:
-Oh Mary, down on yure marrybones, and bless yure stars for sitiating
-you in a loanly stooped poky place, wear you cant be lead into liteness
-and gayty, if you was evver so inclind. Fore wipping willies and a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>
-windmill is a dullish luck out, shure enuff, but its better then moor
-ambishus prospex, and stairing at a grate fire, like a suckin pig, till
-yure eyes is reddy to drop out of yure hed!</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_073" name="i_073">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_073.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“WHY DON’T THE MEN PROPOSE?”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>You no wen Lady Manners is absent, a certin person allways givs a good
-rowt:&mdash;and I had a card in Coarse. I went verry ginteel, my Cloke cost
-I wont say Wot, and a hat and fethers to match. But it warnt to be.
-After takin off my things, I had barely set down, wen at the front
-dore there cums a dubble nock without any end to it, and a ring of the
-bell at the saim time, like a triangle keepin cumpany with a big drum.
-As soon as the door were opened a man with a pail face asked for the
-buckits, and that was the fust news we had of the fire. Oh Mary, never
-trust to the mail sects! They are all Alick from the Botcher and Backer
-that flurts at the front dore, down to the deer dissevers you throw
-away yure arts upon. For all their fine purfessions, they are only
-filling your ears with picrust, they make trifles of yure afections,
-and destroy yure comfits for life. They think no moore of parjuring
-themselvs then I do of sweeping the earth. If yure wise you will sit
-yure face agin all menkind and luv nonsense, as I meen to in futer,
-or may be, wen you are dreeming of brid cake and wite fevers, you may
-find yureself left with nothink but breeches of prommis. John Futman
-is a proof in pint. Menny tims Ive give him a hiding at number fore,
-and he all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>ways had the best of the lardur at our stolin meatings, and
-God nose Ive offun alloud him to idelize me wen I ort to have bean at
-my wurks, besides larning to rite for his sack. Twenty housis afire
-ort not to hav abaited his warmth, insted of witch to jump up at the
-fust allurm and run away, leaving me to make my hone shifts. A treu
-luver wood have staid to shear my fat. O Mary, if ever there was a
-terryfickle spectikle that was won. Flams before and flams behind,
-and flams overhead. Sich axing and hollowing out, and mobbing and
-pumpin, and cussing and swaring, and the peple’s rushes into the Hous
-purvented all gitting out. For my hone parts, I climed up the dresser,
-and skreeked, but nobbody was man enuff to purtect. Men ant what they
-was. I am sick of the retches! It used to be femails fust, but now its
-furniter. I fully thort one gintleman was comin to cotch me up in arms,
-but he prefered the fish kettle. As for the sogers they marcht off to
-the wind seller and the pantry, ware they maid beleave to preserve
-the gusberry gam. How I was reskewd at last Lord nose, for my hed was
-unsensible tell I found meself setten on the pickid pinted ralings of
-St. Margret’s Church, with my fethers all frizzild, and a shew off. But
-of all lossis, my ridicule was most serius, for it had my puss in it.</p>
-
-<p>How and ware it broke out is a mistery. Sum say both Howses was under
-minded. Sum say the Common members got over heatid in there fluency.
-A grate deal of property was burned, in spit of Lord Allthorp,
-who ingaged every cotch, cab, and gobbing porter as conveyancers.
-Westmunster may thenk his Lordship it did not lose its All. They say
-the Lords and Communs was connectid with a grate menny historicle
-associashuns, wich of coarse will hav to make good all dammage.</p>
-
-<p>Fortnately, the Speker’s mornin, noon, and evning services of plait was
-not at home, or it mite hav sufferd, for they say goold and silver as
-stud the fire verry well, melted down when it got<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> furthur off. Tauking
-of plait a gentilman, who giv his card, Mr. William Soames, were verry
-kind and partickler in his inquerries efter Mr. Speker’s vallybles. I
-hope he will hav a place givn him for his indevvers.</p>
-
-<p>Ware the poor burnt-out creturs will go noboddy nose. Sum say Exter
-Hall, sum say the Refudge for the Destitut, and sum say the King will
-lend them his Bensh to set upon! All I no is, I’ve had a frite that
-will go with me to my grave. I am allways snifing fire by day and
-dreeming on it by nite. Ony last Fryday I allarmd the hole naberhood by
-screaching out of winder for the warter to be plugged up. Liting fires,
-or striking lite, or making tindur, throes me into fits.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_075" name="i_075">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_075.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">A REFINED WOMAN.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>I shall nevver be the womman I was; but that is no excus for John’s
-unconstancy. I don’t dare to take my close off to go to bed, and I
-practice clambering up and down by a rop in case, and I giv police M
-25 a shillin now and than to keep a specious eye to number fore, and
-be reddy to ketch anny won<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> in his harms. But it cums to munny, and
-particly givin the ingin keeper a pint of bear from time to time,
-and drams to the turncox: where there’s nabers fires will happen,
-howevver cerefull and precocius you may be youreself. I dred our too
-nex dores; number three is a Gurmin fammily, and them orrid forriners
-think nothink of smocking siggars in bed, witch will ketch sum day to
-a curtainty. Number fiv is wus; since his wif’s deth Mr. Sanders has
-betuck himself to comicle studis, and offin has a littel blo up amung
-his pistles and morters. O! Mary, how happy is them as livs lick you,
-as the song says, “Fur from the buzzy aunts of men.” If yu’re inflamd
-its nobbody’s folt but youre hone. Pray take the gratest car. Have sure
-eyes about you, and luck out for sparks; watever the men may say, don’t
-allow backerpips or long snufs, and let evvery boddy be thurrowly put
-out. Don’t neglect to rake out evvery nite, see that evvery sole in
-the hows is turnd down or xtinguished, and allways blo yureself out
-befour you go to yure piller. Thenk gudness you nevver larnd to reed,
-and therefor will not take anny bucks to bed with you. Allways ware
-stuff or woollin, insted of lite cottons and gingums, in case of the
-coles throwin out coffens or pusses, by witch munny persons gains their
-ends. In case of yure pettycots catchin don’t forgit standin on yure
-hed, as recommended by the Human Society, becoz fire burns uppards,
-but its a posishun as requiers practis. Have yure chimbly swept reglar
-wonce a munth, and wen visiters cum neveer put hot coles in the warmin
-pan, for fear you forgit and leave it in the spair bed. Remember fire
-is a good sarvent but a bad master, and sure enuff wen it is master it
-never gives a sarvent a munth’s notis. To be shure we have won marsy
-in town that is unbenone in the country, and that is Swingeing; there
-is no cornstax or heyrix in St. Jims’s Square. That is yure week pint,
-and I trembil for the barns; a rockite or a roaming candle mite set you
-in a blaze. But I hop and trust<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> wat I say will never pruve the truth.
-Oppydildock is good for burns, and I am, dear Mary,</p>
-
-<p class="right mright1"><span class="mright2">Yure old and afexionate feller sarvent,</span><br />
-A<span class="smaller">NN</span> G<span class="smaller">ALE</span>.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_077" name="i_077">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_077.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">THE SWELL MOB.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="section mtop2">
-
-<h3>THE JUBB LETTERS.</h3>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="center mbot1"><i>From Lady Jubb to Mrs. Phipps, Housekeeper at
-the Shrubbery, Shrewsbury, Shrops.</i></p>
-
-<p>M<span class="smaller">RS</span>. P<span class="smaller">HIPPS</span>,</p>
-
-<p class="p1">You will prepare the house directly for the family’s return, not that
-our coming back is absolutely certain, but events have happened to
-render our stay in Portland Place very precarious. All depends upon
-Sir Jacob. In Parliament or out of Parliament his motions must guide
-ours. By this time what has happened will be known in Shropshire, but I
-forbid your talking. Politics belong to people of property, and those
-who have no voice in the country ought not to speak. In your inferior
-situations it’s a duty to be ignorant of what you know. The nation is
-out of your sphere, and besides, people out of town cannot know the
-state of the country. I want to put you on your guard; thanks to the
-press, as Sir Jacob says, public<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> affairs cannot be kept private, and
-the consequence is, the ignorant are as well informed as their betters.
-The burning of both Houses of Parliament I am afraid cannot be hushed
-up&mdash;but it is not a subject for servants, that have neither upper nor
-lower members amongst them, and represent nobody. I trust to you, Mrs.
-Phipps, to discourage all discussions in the kitchen, which isn’t the
-place for parliamentary canvassing. The most ridiculous notions are
-abroad. I should not be surprised even to hear that Sir Jacob had lost
-his seat, because the benches were burnt, but we have been deprived
-of none of our dignities or privileges. You will observe this letter
-is <i>franked</i>; the fire made no difference to your master, he is not
-dissolved, whatever the Blues may wish&mdash;he is still Sir Jacob Jubb,
-Baronet, M.P.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_078" name="i_078">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_078.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">THE LIGHT HORSE.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>The election of Sir Jacob at such a crisis was an act of Providence.
-His firmness at the fire affords an example to posterity; although
-the bench was burning under him he refused to retreat, replying
-emphatically, “I will sit by my order.” As far as this goes you may
-mention, and no more. I enjoin upon all else a diplomatic silence. Sir
-Jacob himself will write to the bailiff, and whatever may be the nature
-of his directions, I desire that no curiosity may be indulged in, and
-above<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> all, that you entertain no opinions of your own. You cannot
-square with the upper circles. I would write more, but I am going to
-a meeting, I need not say where, or upon what subject. I rely, Mrs.
-Phipps, on your discretion, and am, &amp;c.,</p>
-
-<p class="right mright2">A<span class="smaller">RABELLA</span>
-A<span class="smaller">NASTASIA</span> J<span class="smaller">UBB</span>.</p>
-
-<p class="center mtop2 mbot1"><i>To T. Crawfurd, junior, Esquire, the Beeches, near Shrewsbury, Shrops.</i></p>
-
-<p>D<span class="smaller">EAR</span> T<span class="smaller">OM</span>,</p>
-
-<p class="p1">Throw up your cap and huzza. There’s glorious news, and so you’ll say
-when I tell you. I could almost jump out of my skin for joy! Father’s
-dismembered! The House of Commons caught fire, and he was dissolved
-along with the rest.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_079" name="i_079">
-   <img class="mtop2" src="images/i_079.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“THE LAST DAYS OF POMP&mdash;.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>I’ve never been happy since we came up to London, and all through
-Parliament. The election was good sport enough. I liked the riding up
-and down, and carrying a flag; and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> battle, with sticks, between
-the Blues and the Yellows, was famous fun; and I huzza’d myself hoarse
-at our getting the day at last. But after that came the jollup, as we
-used to say at Old Busby’s. Theme writing was a fool to it. If father
-composed one maiden speech he composed a hundred, and he made me
-knuckle down and copy them all out, and precious stupid stuff it was. A
-regular physicker, says you, and I’d worse to take after it. He made us
-all sit down and hear him spout them, and a poor stick he made.&mdash;Dick
-Willis, that we used to call Handpost, was a dab at it compared to him.
-He’s no better hand at figures, so much the worse for me. Did you ever
-have a fag, Tom, at the national debt? I don’t know who owes it, but I
-wish he’d pay it, or be made bankrupt at once. I’ve worked more sums
-last month than ever I did at school in the half year,&mdash;geography the
-same. I had to hunt out Don Carlos and Don Pedro, all over the maps. I
-came in for a regular wigging one day, for wishing both the Dons were
-well peppered, as Tom Tough says. I’ve seen none of the sights I wanted
-to see. He wouldn’t let me go to the play, because he says the theatres
-are bad schools, and would give me a vicious style of elocution. The
-only pleasure he promised me was to sit in the gallery at the Commons
-and see him present his petitions. Short-hand would have come next,
-that I might take down his speechifying&mdash;for he says the reporters all
-garble. An’t I well out of it all&mdash;and a place he was to get for me
-besides, from the Prime Minister? I suppose the Navy Pay, to sit on a
-high stool and give Jack Junk one pound two and ninepence twice a year.
-I’d rather be Jack Junk himself, wouldn’t you, Tom? But father’s lost
-his wicket, and huzza for Shropshire! In hopes of our soon meeting, I
-remain, my dear Tom,</p>
-
-<p class="right mright2"><span class="mright1">Your old chum and schoolfellow,</span><br />
-F<span class="smaller">REDERICK</span> J<span class="smaller">UBB</span>.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>P.S.&mdash;A court gentleman has just come in, with a knock-me-down-again.
-He says there’s to be a new election. I wish you’d do something; it
-would be a real favour, and I will do as much for you another time.
-What I want of you is, to get your father to set up against mine. Do
-try, Tom&mdash;there’s a good fellow. I will ask every body I know to give
-your side a plumper.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_081" name="i_081">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_081.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">AN ADDER UP.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center mtop2 mbot1"><i>To Mr. Roger Davis, Bailiff, the Shrubbery, near Shrewsbury.</i></p>
-
-<p>D<span class="smaller">AVIS</span>,</p>
-
-<p class="p1">I hope to God this will find you at home&mdash;I am writing in a state
-of mind bordering on madness. I can’t collect myself to give
-particulars&mdash;you will have a newspaper along with this&mdash;read that,
-and your hair will stand on end. Incendiarism has reached its height
-like the flaming thing on the top of the Monument. Our crisis is come.
-To my mind&mdash;political suicide&mdash;is as bad as felo de se. Oh Whigs,
-Whigs, Whigs&mdash;what have you brought us to! As the Britannic Guardian
-well says&mdash;England is gone to Italy&mdash;London is at Naples&mdash;and we are
-all standing on the top of Vesuvius. I have heard&mdash;and I believe
-it&mdash;that an attempt has been made to choke Aldgate Pump. A Waltham
-Abbey paper says positively that the mills were recently robbed of 513
-barrels of powder, the exact number of the members for England and
-Wales. What a diabolical refinement&mdash;to blow up a government with its
-own powder! I can hardly persuade myself I am in England. God knows
-where it will spread to&mdash;I mean the incendiary spirit. The dry season
-is frightful&mdash;I suppose the springs are all dry. Keep the engine
-locked in the stable for fear of a cut at the pipes. I’ll send you
-down two more. Let all the labourers take a turn at them, by way of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>
-practice. I’m persuaded the Parliament houses were burnt on purpose.
-The flue story is ridiculous. Mr. Cooper’s is a great deal more to the
-point. I believe everything I hear. A bunch of matches was found in
-the Speaker’s kitchen. I saw something suspicious myself&mdash;some said
-treacle, but I say tar. Have your eyes about you&mdash;lock all the gates,
-day as well as night&mdash;and above all, watch the stacks. One Tiger is not
-enough&mdash;get three or four more, I should have said Cæsar, but you know
-I mean the house-dog. Good mastiffs,&mdash;the biggest and savagest you can
-get. The gentry will be attempted first&mdash;beginning with the M.P.’s.
-You and Barnes and Sam must sit up by turns&mdash;and let the maids sit up
-too&mdash;women have sharp ears and sharp tongues.&mdash;If a mouse stirs I would
-have them squall&mdash;danger or no danger. It’s the only way to sleep in
-security&mdash;and comfort. I have read that the common goose is a vigilant
-creature&mdash;and saved Rome. Get a score of them at the next market&mdash;don’t
-stand about price&mdash;but choose them with good cackles. Alarm them now
-and then to keep them watchful,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> Fire the blunderbuss off every night,
-and both fowling pieces and all the pistols. If all the Gentry did
-as much, it might keep the country quiet. If you were to ring the
-alarm-bell once or twice in the middle of the night, it would be as
-well&mdash;you would know then what help to depend upon. Search the house
-often from the garret to the cellar, for combustibles&mdash;if you could
-manage to go without candles, or any sort of light, it would be better.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_082" name="i_082">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_082.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">THE MOVEMENT PARTY.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>You’d find your way about in the dark after a little practice. Pray
-don’t allow any sweethearts; they may be Swings and Captain Rocks in
-disguise, and their pretended flames turn out real. I’ve misgivings
-about the maids. Tie them up and taste their liver, before they eat
-it themselves&mdash;I mean the house-dogs; but my agitation makes me
-unconnected. The scoundrels often poison them, before they attempt
-robbery and arson. Keep the cattle in the cowhouse for fear of their
-being houghed and hamstrung. Surely there were great defects somewhere.
-The Houses could not have been properly protected&mdash;if they had been
-watched as well as they were lighted&mdash;but it is too late to cast any
-blame on individuals. A paltry spirit of economy has been our bane. A
-few shillings would have purchased a watch-dog; and one or two geese in
-each house might have saved the capitol of the constitution! But the
-incendiary knew how to choose his time&mdash;an adjournment when there were
-none sitting.</p>
-
-<p>I say incendiary, because no doubt can exist in any cool mind, that
-enters into the conflagration. I transcribe conclusive extracts from
-several papers, the editors of which I know to be upright men, and they
-all write on one side.</p>
-
-<p>“We are confidently informed,” says the Beacon,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> “that a quantity of
-tar-barrels was purchased at No. 2, High-street, Shadwell, about ten
-o’clock on the morning of the fire. There was abundant time before six
-a.m., for removing the combustibles to Westminster. The purchaser was a
-short, squat, down-looking man, and the name on his cart was I. Burns.”</p>
-
-<p>“Trifling circumstances,” says the Sentinel, “sometimes point to great
-results. Our own opinion is formed. We have made it our business to
-examine the Guys in preparation for the impending anniversary of the
-Gunpowder Plot, and we affirm that every one of the effigies bore a
-striking resemblance to some member or other of assemblies we need not
-name. These are signs of the times.”</p>
-
-<p>“We should be loth,” says the Detector, “to impute the late calamity to
-any particular party: but we may reasonably inquire what relative stake
-in the country is possessed by the Whigs and the Tories. The English
-language may be taken as a fair standard. The first may lay claim to
-perri-<i>wig</i>, scratch-<i>wig</i>, tie-<i>wig</i>, bob-<i>wig</i>, in short, the whole
-family of the perruques, with <i>whig</i>-maleery. The latter, not to
-mention other good things, have a vested right in ora<i>tory</i>, his<i>tory</i>,
-terri<i>tory</i>, and vic<i>tory</i>. Can a man of common patriotism have a doubt
-which side it is his interest to adhere to?”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_085" name="i_085">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_085.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“WHEN SHALL WE THREE MEET AGAIN?”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>That last paragraph, Davis, is what I call sound argument. Indeed I
-don’t see how it is to be answered. You see they are all nem. con.
-as to our danger, and decidedly reckon fire an inflammatory agent.
-Take care what you read. Very pernicious doctrines are abroad, and
-especially across the Western Channel. The Irish are really frightful.
-I’m told they tie the cows’ tails together, and then saw off their
-horns for insurrectionary bugles. The foundations of society are
-shaken all over the world&mdash;the Whiteboys in Ireland, and the Blacks
-in the West Indies, all seem to fight under the same colours. It’s
-time for honest men to rally round themselves&mdash;but I’m sorry to say
-public spirit and love of one’s country are at a low ebb. There’s too
-much Americanism. One writer wants us to turn all our English wheat
-to Indian corn, and to grow no sort of apples but Franklin pippins.
-We want strong measures against associations and unions. There’s
-demagogues abroad&mdash;and they wear white hats. By-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>the-bye, I more
-than half suspect that fellow Johnson is a delegate. Take him to the
-ale-house, and treat him freely&mdash;it may warm him to blab something.
-Besides, you will see what sort of papers the public-houses take in.
-You may drop a hint about their licenses. Give my compliments to Dr.
-Garratt, and tell him I hope he will preach to the times, and take
-strong texts. I wish I could be down amongst you, but I cannot desert
-my post. You may tell the tenantry, and electors&mdash;I’m burnt out and
-gutted&mdash;but my heart’s in the right place&mdash;and devoted to constituents.
-Come what may, I will be an unshaken pillar on the basis of my circular
-letter. Don’t forget any of my precautions. I am sorry I did not bring
-all the plate up to town&mdash;but at the first alarm bury it. Take in no
-letters or notices; for what you know they may be threatenings. If
-any Irishman applies for work, discharge him instantly. All the old
-spring-guns had better be set again, they are not now legal, but I am
-ministerial, and if they did go off, the higher powers would perhaps
-wink at them. But it’s fire that I am afraid of, fire that destroyed
-my political roof, and may now assail my paternal one. Walk, as I may
-say, bucket in hand, and be ready every moment for a break out. You
-may set fire to the small faggot stack, and try your hands at getting
-it under&mdash;there’s nothing worse than being taken by surprise. Read
-this letter frequently, and impress these charges on your mind. It
-is a sad change for England to have become,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> I may say, this fiery
-furnace. I have not the least doubt, if properly traced, the burning
-cliff at Weymouth would be found to be connected with Incendiarism, and
-the Earthquakes at Chichester with our political convulsions. Thank
-Providence in your prayers, Davis, that your own station forbids your
-being an M.P., for a place in parliament is little better than sitting
-on a barrel of gunpowder. Honour forbids to resign, or I should wish I
-was nothing but a simple country gentleman. Remember, and be vigilant.
-Once more I cry Watch, Watch, Watch! By adopting the motions I propose,
-a conflagration may be adjourned sine die, which is a petition
-perpetually presented by</p>
-
-<p class="right mright2"><span class="mright3">Your anxious but uncompromising Master,</span><br />
-J<span class="smaller">ACOB</span> J<span class="smaller">UBB</span>, M.P.</p>
-
-<p class="center mtop2 mbot1"><i>To Lady Jubb, at 45, Portland Place.</i></p>
-
-<p>R<span class="smaller">ESPECTED</span> M<span class="smaller">ADAM</span>,</p>
-
-<p class="p1">I received your Ladyship’s obliging commands, and have used my best
-endeavours to conform to the wishes condescended therein. In respect
-to political controversy, I beg to say I have imposed a tacit silence
-on the domestic capacities as far as within the sphere of my control,
-but lament to say the Bailiff, Mr. Davis, is a party unamenable to
-my authority, and as such has taken liberties with decorum quite
-unconsistent with propriety and the decency due. However reluctant
-to censoriousness, duty compels to communicate subversive conduct
-quite unconformable to decency’s rules and order in a well-regulated
-establishment. I allude to Mr. Davis’s terrifically jumping out from
-behind doors and in obscure dark corners, on the female domestics, for
-no reasonable purpose I can discover, except to make them exert their
-voices in a very alarming manner. The housemaid, indeed, confirms me
-by saying in her own words, “he considered her skreek the best skreek
-in the family.” If impropriety had proceeded no further, I should have
-hesitated to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> trouble your Ladyship with particulars; but Mr. Davis,
-not satisfied with thus working on the unsophisticated terrors of
-ignorant females, thought proper to horrify with inflammatory reports.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_087" name="i_087">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_087.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">A MARKED MAN.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_088" name="i_088">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_088.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">WAPPING OLD STARES.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>One night, as a prominent instance, about twelve o’clock, he rang the
-alarm bell so violently, at the same time proclaiming conflagration,
-that the law of preservation became our paramount duty, and, as a
-consequence, we all escaped in a state of dishabille only to be
-ambiguously hinted at, by saying that time did not allow to put on my
-best lutestring to meet the neighbouring gentry&mdash;and must add, with
-indignation, in the full blaze of a heap of straw, thought proper to
-be set on fire by Mr. Davis in the fore-court. I trust your Ladyship
-will excuse a little warmth of language, in saying it was highly
-reprehensible; but I have not depictured the worst. I, one evening,
-lighted up what I conceived to be a mould candle, and your Ladyship
-will imagine my undescribable fright when it exploded itself like a
-missile of the squib description, an unwarrantable mode, I must say,
-of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> convincing me, as Mr. Davis had the audaciousness to own to,
-that we may be made to be actors in our own combustion. To suppose
-at my years and experience, I can be unsensible of the danger of
-fire, must be a preposterous notion; but all his subsequent acts
-partake an agreeable character. For fear of being consumed in our
-beds, as he insidiously professed, he exerted all his influential
-arguments to persuade the females to set up nocturnally all night,
-a precaution of course declined, as well as his following scheme,
-being almost too much broached with absurdity to enumerate. I mean
-every retiring female reposing her confidence on a live goose in her
-chamber, as were purchased for the express purpose, but need not add
-were dispensed with by rational beings. I trust your ladyship will
-acquit of uncharitableness if I suspect it was out of vindictive
-feelings at their opposition to the geese that Mr. Davis insinuated a
-strict inquiry into every individual that came into the house, as far
-even as requiring to be personally present at all that passed between
-the dairymaid and her cousin. It escaped memory to say that when the
-feminine department refused to be deprived of rest, the male servants
-were equally adverse to go to bed, being spirited up by Mr. Davis to
-spend the night together, and likewise being furnished with the best
-strong ale in the cellar by his im<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>perious directions, which, by way of
-climax to assurance, was alleged to be by order of Sir Jacob himself.
-I say nothing reflectively on his repeatedly discharging his artillery
-at unseasonable hours, the shock principally concerning my own nervous
-constitution, which was so vibrated as to require calling in physical
-powers: and Doctor Tudor, considering advanced age and infirmity, is
-of opinion I may require to be under his professional hands for an
-ensuing twelvemonth. Of startling effects upon other parties I may
-make comments more unreserved, and without harsh extenuation must
-say, his letting off reports without due notice, frequently when the
-females had valuable cut glass and china in their hands, or on their
-trays, was blamable in the extreme, to express the least of it. Another
-feature which caused much unpleasantness, was Mr. Davis persisting to
-scrutinise and rummage the entire premises from top to bottom, but on
-this characteristic tediousness forbids to dwell, and more particularly
-as mainly affecting himself, such as the flow of blood from his nose,
-and two coagulated eyes, from the cellar door, through a peculiar
-whim of looking for every thing in a state of absolute obscurity. I
-may add, by way of incident, that Mr. Davis walks lame from a canine
-injury in the calf of his leg, which I hope will not prove rabid in the
-end,&mdash;but the animals he has on his own responsibility introduced on
-the premises, really resemble, begging your Ladyship’s pardon for the
-expression, what are denominated D.’s incarnate.</p>
-
-<p>Such, your Ladyship, is the unpropitious posture of domestic affairs
-at the Shrubbery, originating, I must say, exclusively from the
-unprecedented deviations of Mr. Davis. A mild construction would infer,
-from such extraordinary extravagance of conduct, a flightiness, or
-aberration of mind in the individual, but I deeply lament to say a
-more obvious cause exists to put a negative on such a surmise. For
-the last week Mr. Davis has betrayed an unusual propensity to pass
-his evenings at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> George Tavern, and in consequence has several
-times exhibited himself in a Bacchanalian character to our extreme
-discomforture, and on one occasion actually trespassed so far beyond
-the bounds of modesty, as to offer me the rudeness of a salute. I
-blush to impart such details to your Ladyship; but justice demands an
-explicit statement, however repulsive to violated reserve and the rules
-of virtue. Amongst less immoral actions, I must advert to the arrival
-of two new engines with a vast number of leathern buckets, I fear
-ordered by Mr. Davis at my honoured master’s expense, and which are
-periodically exercised in pumping every day, by the gardeners and the
-hinds, being induced thereto by extra beverages of strong beer. By such
-means the aquatic supply of the well is frequently exhausted by playing
-upon nothing,&mdash;and at this present moment I am justified in stating we
-have not sufficient water to fulfil culinary purposes, or the demands
-of cleanliness. I feel ashamed to say there is not a strictly clean cap
-in the whole household.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_090" name="i_090">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_090.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">THE UNITED SERVICE.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>In short, Madam, we labour under an aggravated complication of
-insubordination, deprivation, discomfort, and alarm, daily and nightly,
-such as to shock my eyes whilst it grieves my heart, and I may almost
-say turns my head to be present at, without sufficient authority to
-dictate or power to enforce a course<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> more consistent with the line of
-rectitude. As my sway does not extend to Mr. Davis, I humbly beseech
-your Ladyship’s interference and influence in the proper quarter,
-in behalf, I may say, of a body of persecuted females, some of whom
-possess cultivated minds and sensitive feelings beyond their sphere.</p>
-
-<p class="right mright2"><span class="mright6">I remain, respected Madam,</span><br />
-Your Ladyship’s most obliged and very humble Servant,<br />
-A<span class="smaller">MELIA</span> P<span class="smaller">HIPPS</span>.</p>
-
-<p>P.S.&mdash;One of Mr. Davis’s savage bull-baiting dogs has just rushed with
-a frightful crash into the china-closet, in pursuit of the poor cat.</p>
-
-<p class="center mtop2 mbot1"><i>To Sir Jacob Jubb, Baronet, M.P.</i></p>
-
-<p>H<span class="smaller">ONNERD</span> S<span class="smaller">UR</span>,</p>
-
-<p class="p1">Yure faver enclosin the Ruings of the Parlimint houses cam dully to
-hand, and did indeed put up all the hares on my hed. It cam like the
-bust of a thunder bolt. You mite hav nockt me down with the fether of a
-ginny ren. My bran swum. I seamed rooted to the hearth&mdash;and did not no
-weather I was a slip or a wack, on my hed or my heals. I was perfecly
-unconshunable, and could no more kollect meself then the Hirish tiths.
-I was a long Tim befor I cud perswade meself that the trooth was trew.
-But sich a dredful fire is enuff to unsettil wons resin. A thowsend
-ears mite role over our heds, and not prodeuce sich a blo to the
-constitushun. I was barley sensible. The Currier dropt from my hands
-wen I cam to the perrygraft witch says “Our hops are at an end. The
-Hous of Communs is a boddy of Flams, and so is the Hous of Pears! The
-Lords will be dun!”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_092" name="i_092">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_092.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">GENERAL ELECTION.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Honnerd Sur, I beg to kondole as becums on yure missin yure seat. It
-must have bean the suddinest of shox, &amp; jest wen goin to sit after
-standin for the hole county, on yure hone futt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>ing, at your sole
-expens. But I do hop and trust it will not be yure dissolushun, as sum
-report; I do hop it is onely an emty rummer pict up at sum publick
-Hous. At such an encindery crisus our wust frend wood be General
-Elixion, by stirrin up inflametory peple, particly if there was a
-long pole. You see, Sir Jacob, I konker in evvery sentashus sentemint
-in yure respected Letter. The Volkano you menshun I can enter into.
-Theres a great deal of combustibul sperits in the country that onely
-wants a spark to convart them into catarax:&mdash;and I greave to say evvery
-inflammetory little demy Gog is nust, and has the caudle support of
-certin pappers. Im alludin to the Press. From this sort of countenins
-the nashunal aspec gits moor friteful evvery day. I see no prospex for
-the next gennerashun but rocking and swinging. I hav had a grate menny<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span>
-low thorts, for wat can be moor dispiritin then the loss of our two
-gratest Publick Housis! There is nothin cumfortable. There is a Vesuvus
-under our feat, and evvery step brings us nearer to its brinks. Evvery
-reflective man must say we are a virgin on a precipus.</p>
-
-<p>Honnerd Sur! In the mean tim I hav pade atenshuns to yure letter, and
-studid its epistlery derecshuns, witch I hav made meself very particler
-in fulfiling to the utmost xtent. If the most zellus effuts have not
-sucksedid to wish I humbly beg to blame but wat is dew may fall on me,
-and hope other peples shears will visit their hone heds. The axident
-with the spring gun was no neglex of mine. After Barnes settin it
-himself, his tumblin over the wier must be lade to his hone dore along
-with his shot legs. I sent for two surgings to sea to him, and they
-cauld in too moor, so that he is certin of a good dressin, but he was
-very down-harted about gitting a livin, till I tolled him yure honner
-wood settle on him for the rest of his days. I may say the lik of the
-other axident to Sanders and Sam, who got badly woundid wile wotchin
-the stax, by apprehendin won another after a sanguine conflic by
-mistake for incinderies. I have promist in yure honners nam to reword
-them boath hansumly for their vigilings, but they stedfistly refus
-to padrol anny moor after dusk, tho they ar agreble by daylit, which
-leavs me at my whits ends for Firegards, as strange men wood not be
-trusswurthy.</p>
-
-<p>Honnered Sur&mdash;I am sorry I cood not git the mad servents to set up
-for theaves, even for wun nite runnin. I tried the Currier on them,
-but it didn’t wurk on there minds; they tuck lites in their hands and
-waukd to there pillers as if they hadn’t a car on there heds, and wen
-I insistid on their allarmin me they all give me warnin. As for the
-swetharts there’s a duzzen domesticatted luvers in the kitchen, and
-I’m sorry to say I can’t give them all a rowt. I ketchd the cook’s bo
-gettin in at a winder, and sercht his pockets for feer of fosfrus, but
-he contaned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> nothin xcept a cruckid sixpens, a taler’s thimbel, and a
-tin backy-box, with a lock of hare witch did not match with cook’s. It
-is dangerus wurk. Becus I luck after the mades candels they tie strings
-to the banesters to ketch my fut, and I have twice pitcht from the
-hed to the futt of the stars. I am riting with my forrid brandid and
-brown pepperd, and my rite hand in a poltus from gropping in the dark
-for cumbustibils in the cole seller, and diskivering nothin but the
-torturous kat and her kittings.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_094" name="i_094">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_094.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“TWO HEADS ARE BETTER THAN ONE.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Honnerd Sur&mdash;I got six capitol gees a bargin, but am verry dubbius
-weather they possess the propperty that ort to make them wakful and
-weary of nites. The old specious may be lost. The Roman gees you
-menshun wood certinly hav nevver sufferd themselves to be stolen
-without a cakeling, as our hone did too nites ago. As for the wotch
-dogs, to be candied, they were all errors in gudgment. There was to
-much Bul in the bread. The verry fust nite they were let lose they flew
-in a rag, and began to vent their caning propensities on each other’s
-curcases. I regret<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> to say too was wurrid to deth before the next
-mourning, and the rest were so full of bad bits and ingeries in there
-vitties they were obligated to be kild. In shutting Seazer with the
-blunderbush, I lament to ad it hung fire, and in liftin it up it went
-off of its hone hed and shot the bucher’s horse at the gait, and he has
-thretind to tak the law if he isn’t made good, as he was verry vallyble.</p>
-
-<p>Honnerd Sur&mdash;Accordin to orders I tuck Johnson the suspishus man evvery
-nite to the Gorge, and told him to caul for wat he likt, witch was
-allways an ot suppir and Punch. As yet he as diskivered nothin but sum
-lov nonsins about a deary-made, so that its uncertin weather he is a
-dillygate or not; but I shood say a desinin won, for by sum artful
-meens he allways manniged to make me drunk fust, and gennerally lent
-a hand to carry me home. I told the landlord to let him have aney
-thing he wantid and yure Honner wood pay the skore, but I think it was
-unprudent of Mr. Tapper to let him run up to ten pound. But it isn’t
-all drink, but eating as well&mdash;Johnson has a very glutinous appetit,
-and always stix to the tabel as long as there is meet.</p>
-
-<p>Honnerd Sur&mdash;Last fridy morning there was grate riotism and sines of
-the populus risin, and accordin I lost no time in berryin the plait as
-derected by yure ordirs. I am gratifid to say the disturbans turned out
-onely a puggleistical fit; but owen to our hurry and allarm, the spot
-ware the plait was berrid went out of our heads. We have since dug up
-the hole srubbery, but without turnin up anny thing in its shape. But
-it cant be lost, tho’ it isnt to be found. The gardner swares the srubs
-will all di from being transplanted at unpropper sesin&mdash;but I trust it
-is onely his old grumblin stile witch he cannot git over.</p>
-
-<p>Honnerd Sur&mdash;The wust is to cum. In casis of Fire the trooth is shure
-to brake out suner or latter, so I may as well cum to the catstrophy
-without any varnish on my tail. This morning according to yure order, I
-hignitted the littel faggit stak, fust<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> takin the precawshuny meshure
-of drawin up a line of men with buckits, from the dux-pond to the sene
-of combusting. Nothin can lay therefor on my sholders: it all riz
-from the men strikin for bear, wen they ort to hav bean handin warter
-to won another. I felt my deuty to argy the pint, which I trust will
-be apruved, and wile we were cussin and discussin the fire got a hed
-that defide all our unitted pours to subdo. To confess the fax, the
-fire inguns ware all lokt up in a stabble with a shy key that had lost
-itself the day before, and was not to be had wen we wantid to lay hands
-on it. Not that we could have wurkd the inguns if they had faverd with
-their presens, for want of hands. Evvery boddy had run so offen at
-the allarm bell that they got noboddy to go in there steed. It was an
-hawful site; the devowring ellemint swallerd won thing after another as
-sune as cotched, and rushed along roring with friteful violins. Were
-the finger of Providins is the hand as does we must not arrange it,
-but as the him says, “we must submit and humbel Bee.” Heavin direx the
-winds, and not us. As it blue towards the sow the piggry sune cotchd,
-and that cotchd the foul housis, and then the barn cotchd with all the
-straw, and the granery cotchd also, witch it wood not have dun if we
-had puld down the hay stax that stud between. That was all the cotching
-excep the hay stax, from Jenkins runnin about with a flaimin tale to
-his smoak frock. At last, by a blessin, when there was no moor to burn
-it was got under and squentched itself, prays be given without loss of
-lif or lim. Another comfit is all bein inshured in the Sun, enuff to
-kiver it; and I shud hop they will not refus to make gud on the ground
-that it was dun wilful by our hone ax and deeds. But fire officis are
-sumtimes verry unlibberal, and will ketch hold of a burning straw,
-and if fax were put on their oths I couldn’t deni a bundil of rags,
-matchis, candel ends, and other combustibils pokt into the faggits, and
-then litin up with my hone hand. Tim will sho. In the meenwhile I am
-consienshusly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> easy, it was dun for the best, though turned out for the
-wust, and am gratified to reflect that I hav omitted nothin, but have
-scruppleusly fulfild evvery particler of yure honner’s instruxions, and
-in hop of approval of the saim, await the faver of furthir commands,
-and am,</p>
-
-<p class="right mright2"><span class="mright6">Honnerd Sur Jacob,</span><br />
-Your humbel, faithful, and obedient Servint,<br />
-<span class="mright3">R<span class="smaller">OGER</span> D<span class="smaller">AVIS</span>.</span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_097" name="i_097">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_097.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">LIGHT-FINGERED.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="HUGGINS_AND_DUGGINS">HUGGINS AND DUGGINS.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="s5 center">A PASTORAL AFTER POPE.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">T<span class="smaller">WO</span> swains or clowns&mdash;but call them swains&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">While keeping flocks on Salisbury Plains,</div>
-      <div class="verse">For all that tend on sheep as drovers,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Are turned to songsters, or to lovers,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Each of the lass he called his dear,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Began to carol loud and clear.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">First Huggins sang, and Duggins then,</div>
-      <div class="verse">In the way of ancient shepherd men;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Who thus alternate hitch’d in song,</div>
-      <div class="verse">“All things by turns, and nothing long.”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft7 padtop1">HUGGINS.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Of all the girls about our place,</div>
-      <div class="verse">There’s one beats all in form and face;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Search through all Great and Little Bumpstead,</div>
-      <div class="verse">You’ll only find one Peggy Plumpstead.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_098" name="i_098">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_098.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">FOLLOW MY LEADER.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7 padtop1">DUGGINS.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">To groves and streams I tell my flame,</div>
-      <div class="verse">I make the cliffs repeat her name:</div>
-      <div class="verse">When I’m inspired by gills and noggins,</div>
-      <div class="verse">The rocks re-echo Sally Hoggins!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft7 padtop1">HUGGINS.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">When I am walking in the grove,</div>
-      <div class="verse">I think of Peggy as I rove.</div>
-      <div class="verse">I’d carve her name on every tree,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But I don’t know my A, B, C.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7 padtop1">DUGGINS.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Whether I walk in hill or valley,</div>
-      <div class="verse">I think of nothing else but Sally.</div>
-      <div class="verse">I’d sing her praise, but I can sing</div>
-      <div class="verse">No song, except “God save the King.”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7 padtop1">HUGGINS.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">My Peggy does all nymphs excel,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And all confess she bears the bell,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Where’er she goes swains flock together,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Like sheep that follow the bellwether.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7 padtop1">DUGGINS.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Sally is tall and not too straight,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Those very poplar shapes I hate;</div>
-      <div class="verse">But something twisted like an S,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">A crook becomes a shepherdess.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7 padtop1">HUGGINS.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">When Peggy’s dog her arms imprison,</div>
-      <div class="verse">I often wish my lot was hisn;</div>
-      <div class="verse">How often I should stand and turn,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To get a pat from hands like hern.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7 padtop1">DUGGINS.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">I tell Sall’s lambs how blest they be,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To stand about and stare at she;</div>
-      <div class="verse">But when I look, she turns and shies,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And won’t bear none but their sheep’s-eyes!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft7 padtop1">HUGGINS.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Love goes with Peggy where she goes.&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Beneath her smile the garden grows;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Potatoes spring, and cabbage starts,</div>
-      <div class="verse">’Tatoes have eyes, and cabbage hearts!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7 padtop1">DUGGINS.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Where Sally goes it’s always spring,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Her presence brightens every thing;</div>
-      <div class="verse">The sun smiles bright, but where her grin is,</div>
-      <div class="verse">It makes brass farthings look like guineas.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7 padtop1">HUGGINS.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">For Peggy I can have no joy,</div>
-      <div class="verse">She’s sometimes kind, and sometimes coy,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And keeps me, by her wayward tricks,</div>
-      <div class="verse">As comfortless as sheep with ticks.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_100" name="i_100">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_100.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">RAMSAY’S GENTLE SHEPHERD.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7 padtop1">DUGGINS.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Sally is ripe as June or May,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And yet as cold as Christmas day;</div>
-      <div class="verse">For when she’s asked to change her lot,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Lamb’s wool,&mdash;but Sally, she wool not</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft7 padtop1">HUGGINS.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Only with Peggy and with health,</div>
-      <div class="verse">I’d never wish for state or wealth;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Talking of having health and more pence,</div>
-      <div class="verse">I’d drink her health if I had fourpence.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7 padtop1">DUGGINS.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Oh, how that day would seem to shine,</div>
-      <div class="verse">If Sally’s banns were read with mine;</div>
-      <div class="verse">She cries, when such a wish I carry,</div>
-      <div class="verse">“Marry come up!” but will not marry.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="DOMESTIC_DIDACTICS">DOMESTIC DIDACTICS.<br />
-
-<span class="s6">BY AN OLD SERVANT.</span></h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p>I<span class="smaller">T</span> is not often when the Nine descend that they go so low as into
-areas; it is certain, nevertheless, that they were in the habit of
-visiting John Humphreys, in the kitchen of No. 189, Portland Place,
-disguised, no doubt, from mortal eye, as seamstresses or charwomen&mdash;at
-all events, as Winifred Jenkins says, “they were never ketch’d in the
-fact.” Perhaps it was the rule of the house to allow no followers, and
-they were obliged to come by stealth, and to go in the same manner;
-indeed, from the fragmental nature of John’s verses, they appear
-to have often left him very abruptly. Other pieces bear witness of
-the severe distraction he suffered between his domestic duty to the
-Umphravilles, twelve in family, with their guests, and his own secret
-visitors from Helicon. It must have been provoking, when seeking for
-a simile, to be sent in search of a salt-cellar; or when hunting
-for a rhyme, to have to look for a missing teaspoon. By a whimsical
-peculiarity, the causes of these lets and hindrances are recorded in
-his verses, by way of parenthesis:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> and though John’s poetry was of a
-decidedly serious and moralising turn, these little insertions give
-it so whimsical a character, as to make it an appropriate offering
-in the present work. Poor John! the grave has put a period to his
-didactics, and the publication of his lays in “Hood’s Own,” therefore,
-cannot give him pain, as it certainly would have done otherwise, for
-the MSS. were left by last will and testament “to his very worthy
-master, Joshua Umphraville, Esq., to be printed in Elegant Extracts,
-or Flowers of English Poetry.” The Editor is indebted to the kindness
-of that gentleman for a selection from the papers; which he has been
-unable to arrange chronologically, as John always wrote in too great a
-hurry to put dates. Whether he ever sent any pieces to the periodicals
-is unknown, for he kept his authorship as secret as Junius’s, till
-his death discovered his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> propensity for poetry, and happily cleared
-up some points in John’s character, which had appeared to his
-disadvantage. Thus when his eye was “in fine frenzy rolling,” bemused
-only with Castalian water, he had been suspected of being “bemused with
-beer;” and when he was supposed to indulge in a morning sluggishness,
-he was really rising with the sun, at least with Apollo. He was accused
-occasionally of shamming deafness, whereas it was doubtless nothing but
-the natural difficulty of hearing more than Nine at once. Above all,
-he was reckoned almost wilfully unfortunate in his breakage; but it
-appears that when deductions for damage were made from his wages, the
-poetry ought to have been stopped, and not the money. The truth is,
-John’s master was a classical scholar, and so accustomed to read of
-Pegasus, and to associate a Poet with a Horseman, that he never dreamt
-of one as a Footman.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_102" name="i_102">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_102.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">NOT UP YET.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>The Editor is too diffident to volunteer an elaborate criticism of the
-merits of Humphreys as a Bard&mdash;but he presumes to say thus much, that
-there are several Authors, of the present day, whom John ought not to
-walk behind.</p>
-
-<p class="s3 center mtop1">THE BROKEN DISH.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">W<span class="smaller">HAT</span>’<span class="smaller">S</span> life but full of care and doubt,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">With all its fine humanities,</div>
-      <div class="verse">With parasols we walk about,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Long pigtails and such vanities.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">We plant pomegranite trees and things,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And go in gardens sporting,</div>
-      <div class="verse">With toys and fans of peacocks’ wings,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">To painted ladies courting.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">We gather flowers of every hue,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And fish in boats for fishes,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Build summer-houses painted blue,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">But life’s as frail as dishes.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Walking about their groves of trees,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Blue bridges and blue rivers,</div>
-      <div class="verse">How little thought them two Chinese</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">They’d both be smash’d to shivers.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="s3 center mtop1">ODE TO PEACE.<br />
-<span class="s6">WRITTEN ON THE NIGHT OF MY MISTRESS’S GRAND ROUT.</span></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">O<span class="smaller">H</span> Peace! oh come with me and dwell&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">But stop, for there’s the bell.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Oh Peace! for thee I go and sit in churches,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">On Wednesday, when there’s very few</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">In loft or pew&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Another ring, the tarts are come from Birch’s.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Oh Peace! for thee I have avoided marriage&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Hush! there’s a carriage.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Oh Peace! thou art the best of earthly goods&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">The five Miss Woods.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Oh Peace! thou art the Goddess I adore&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">There come some more.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Oh Peace! thou child of solitude and quiet&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">That’s Lord Drum’s footman, for he loves a riot.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft4">Oh Peace!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Knocks will not cease.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Oh Peace! thou wert for human comfort plann’d&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">That’s Weippert’s band.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Oh Peace! how glad I welcome thy approaches&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">I hear the sound of coaches.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Oh Peace! oh Peace!&mdash;another carriage stops&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">It’s early for the Blenkinsops.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Oh Peace! with thee I love to wander,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But wait till I have show’d up Lady Squander,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And now I’ve seen her up the stair,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Oh Peace!&mdash;but here comes Captain Hare.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Oh Peace! thou art the slumber of the mind,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Untroubled, calm and quiet, and unbroken,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">If that is Alderman Guzzle from Portsoken,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Alderman Gobble won’t be far behind;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Oh Peace! serene in worldly shyness,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Make way there for his Serene Highness!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Oh Peace! if you do not disdain</div>
-      <div class="verse">To dwell amongst the menial train,</div>
-      <div class="verse">I have a silent place, and lone,</div>
-      <div class="verse">That you and I may call our own;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Where tumult never makes an entry&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Susan, what business have you in my pantry?</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Oh Peace! but there is Major Monk,</div>
-      <div class="verse">At variance with his wife&mdash;Oh Peace!</div>
-      <div class="verse">And that great German, Vander Trunk,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And that great talker, Miss Apreece;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Oh Peace! so dear to poets’ quills&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">They’re just beginning their quadrilles&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Oh Peace! our greatest renovator;&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">I wonder where I put my waiter&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Oh Peace!&mdash;but here my Ode I’ll cease;</div>
-      <div class="verse">I have no peace to write of Peace.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="s3 center mtop1">A FEW LINES ON COMPLETING FORTY-SEVEN.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">When I reflect with serious sense,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">While years and years run on,</div>
-      <div class="verse">How soon I may be summoned hence&mdash;</div>
-     <div class="verse mleft1">There’s cook a-calling John.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Our lives are built so frail and poor,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">On sand and not on rocks,</div>
-      <div class="verse">We’re hourly standing at Death’s door&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">There’s some one double-knocks.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">All human days have settled terms,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Our fates we cannot force;</div>
-      <div class="verse">This flesh of mine will feed the worms&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">They’re come to lunch of course.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">And when my body’s turn’d to clay,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And dear friends hear my knell,</div>
-      <div class="verse">O let them give a sigh and say&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">I hear the upstairs bell.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="s3 center mtop1">TO MARY HOUSEMAID,<br />
-<span class="s6">ON VALENTINE’S DAY.</span></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Mary, you know I’ve no love-nonsense,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And, though I pen on such a day,</div>
-      <div class="verse">I don’t mean flirting, on my conscience,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Or writing in the courting way.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Though Beauty hasn’t form’d your feature,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">It saves you, p’rhaps, from being vain,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And many a poor unhappy creature</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">May wish that she was half as plain.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Your virtues would not rise an inch,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Although your shape was two foot taller,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And wisely you let others pinch</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Great waists and feet to make them smaller.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">You never try to spare your hands</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">From getting red by household duty,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But, doing all that it commands,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Their coarseness is a moral beauty.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Let Susan flourish her fair arms</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And at your odd legs sneer and scoff,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But let her laugh, for you have charms</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">That nobody knows nothing of.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_107" name="i_107">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_107.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">WHAT ODD LEGS!</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="PAIN_IN_A_PLEASURE">PAIN IN A PLEASURE-BOAT.<br />
-
-<span class="s6">A SEA ECLOGUE.</span></h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="s5 center mbot2">“I apprehend you!”&mdash;S<span class="smaller">CHOOL OF</span>
-R<span class="smaller">EFORM</span>.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft11">B<span class="smaller">OATMAN</span>.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">S<span class="smaller">HOVE</span> off there!&mdash;ship the
-        rudder, Bill&mdash;cast off! she’s under way!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft11">&ensp;M<span class="smaller">RS</span>. F.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">She’s under what?&mdash;I hope she’s not! good gracious, what
-        a spray!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft11">B<span class="smaller">OATMAN</span>.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Run out the jib, and rig the boom! keep clear of those two
-        brigs!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft11">&ensp;M<span class="smaller">RS</span>. F.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">I hope they don’t intend some joke by running of
-         their rigs!</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_108" name="i_108">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_108.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">SEE-VIEW:&mdash;BROAD STARES.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft11">B<span class="smaller">OATMAN</span>.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Bill, shift them bags of ballast aft&mdash;she’s
-        rather out of trim!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft11">&ensp;M<span class="smaller">RS</span>. F.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Great bags of stones! they’re pretty things to help a
-        boat to swim!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft11">B<span class="smaller">OATMAN</span>.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">The wind is fresh&mdash;if she don’t scud, it’s not
-        the breeze’s fault!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft11">&ensp;M<span class="smaller">RS</span>. F.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Wind fresh, indeed, I never felt the air so full of
-        salt!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft11">B<span class="smaller">OATMAN</span>.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">That Schooner, Bill, harn’t left the roads, with
-        oranges and nuts!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft11">&ensp;M<span class="smaller">RS</span>. F.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">If seas have roads, they’re very rough&mdash;I never
-        felt such ruts!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft11">B<span class="smaller">OATMAN</span>.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">It’s neap, ye see, she’s heavy lade, and couldn’t
-        pass the bar.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft11">&ensp;M<span class="smaller">RS</span>. F.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">The bar! what, roads with turnpikes too? I wonder
-        where they are!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft11">B<span class="smaller">OATMAN</span>.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Ho! brig ahoy! hard up! hard up! that lubber
-        cannot steer!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft11">&ensp;M<span class="smaller">RS</span>. F.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Yes, yes,&mdash;hard up upon a rock! I know some
-        danger’s near!</div>
-      <div class="verse">Lord, there’s a wave! it’s coming in! and roaring
-        like a bull!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft11">B<span class="smaller">OATMAN</span>.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Nothing, Ma’am, but a little slop! go large, Bill!
-        keep her full!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft11">&ensp;M<span class="smaller">RS</span>. F.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">What, keep her full! what daring work! when full,
-        she must go down!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft11">B<span class="smaller">OATMAN</span>.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Why, Bill, it lulls! ease off a bit&mdash;it’s coming
-        off the town!</div>
-      <div class="verse">Steady your helm! we’ll clear the <i>Pint</i>! lay
-        right for yonder pink!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft11">&ensp;M<span class="smaller">RS</span>. F.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Be steady&mdash;well, I hope they can! but they’ve
-        got a pint of drink!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft11">B<span class="smaller">OATMAN</span>.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Bill, give that sheet another haul&mdash;she’ll fetch
-        it up this reach.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft11">&ensp;M<span class="smaller">RS</span>. F.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">I’m getting rather pale, I know, and they see it by
-        that speech!</div>
-      <div class="verse">I wonder what it is, now, but&mdash;&mdash;I never
-        felt so queer!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft11">B<span class="smaller">OATMAN</span>.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Bill, mind your luff&mdash;why Bill, I say, she’s
-        yawing&mdash;keep her near!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft11">&ensp;M<span class="smaller">RS</span>. F.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Keep near! we’re going further off; the land’s
-        behind our backs.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_110" name="i_110">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_110.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">STERNE’S MARIA.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft11">B<span class="smaller">OATMAN</span>.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Be easy, Ma’am, it’s all correct, that’s only
-        ’cause we tacks:</div>
-      <div class="verse">We shall have to beat about a bit,&mdash;Bill,
-        keep her out to sea.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft11">&ensp;M<span class="smaller">RS</span>. F.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Beat who about? keep who at sea?&mdash;how black
-        they look at me!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft11">B<span class="smaller">OATMAN</span>.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">It’s veering round&mdash;I knew it would! off with
-        her head! stand by!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft11">&ensp;M<span class="smaller">RS</span>. F.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Off with her head! whose? where? what with?&mdash;an
-        axe I seem to spy!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft11">B<span class="smaller">OATMAN</span>.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">She can’t not keep her own, you see; we shall have
-        to pull her in!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft11">&ensp;M<span class="smaller">RS</span>. F.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">They’ll drown me, and take all I have! my life’s not
-        worth a pin!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft11">B<span class="smaller">OATMAN</span>.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Look out you know, be ready, Bill&mdash;just when she
-        takes the sand!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft11">&ensp;M<span class="smaller">RS</span>. F.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">The sand&mdash;O Lord! to stop my mouth! how every
-        thing is planned!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft11">B<span class="smaller">OATMAN</span>.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">The handspike, Bill&mdash;quick, bear a hand! now
-        Ma’am, just step ashore!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft11">&ensp;M<span class="smaller">RS</span>. F.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">What! an’t I going to be kill’d&mdash;and welter’d
-        in my gore?</div>
-      <div class="verse">Well, Heaven be praised! but I’ll not go a sailing
-        any more!</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="A_SPENT_BALL">A SPENT BALL.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="s5 center mbot2">“The flying ball.”&mdash;G<span class="smaller">RAY</span>.</p>
-
-<p>A B<span class="smaller">ALL</span> is a round, but not a perpetual round, of pleasure. It spends
-itself at last, like that from the cannon’s mouth; or rather, like that
-greatest of balls, “that great globe itself,” is “dissolved with all
-that it inherits.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_112" name="i_112">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_112.jpg"
-      alt="A ball" /></a>
-</div>
-
-<p>Four o’clock strikes. The company are all but gone, and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> musicians
-“put up” with their absence. A few “<i>figures</i>,” however, remain, that
-have never been danced, and the hostess, who is all urbanity and
-turbanity, kindly hopes that they will stand up for “one set more.” The
-six figures jump at the offer; they “wake the Harp,” get the fiddlers
-into a fresh scrape, and “the Lancers” are put through their exercise.
-This may be called the Dance of Death, for it ends every thing. The
-band is disbanded, and the Ball takes the form of a family circle. It
-is long past the time when church-yards yawn, but the mouth of Mamma
-opens to a bore, that gives hopes of the Thames Tunnel. Papa, to whom
-the Ball has been anything but a force-meat one, seizes eagerly upon
-the first eatables he can catch, and with his mouth open and his eyes
-shut, declares, in the spirit of an “Examiner” into such things, that a
-“Party is the madness of many for the gain of a few.” The son, heartily
-tired of a suit of broad cloth cut narrow, assents to the pro<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>position,
-and having no further use for his curled head, lays it quietly on
-the shelf. The daughter droops; art has had her Almack’s, and nature
-establishes a Free and Easy. Grace throws herself, skow-wow any-how, on
-an ottoman, and Good Breeding crosses her legs. Roses begin to relax,
-and Curls to unbend themselves; the very Candles seem released from the
-restraints of gentility, and getting low, some begin to smoke, while
-others indulge in a gutter. Muscles and sinews feel equally let loose,
-and by way of a joke, the cramp ties a double-knot in Clarinda’s calf.</p>
-
-<p>Clarinda screams. To this appeal the maternal heart is more awake than
-the maternal eyes, and the maternal hand begins hastily to bestow its
-friction, not on the leg of suffering, but on the leg of the sofa.
-In the mean time, paternal hunger gets satisfied; he eats slower,
-and sleeps faster, subsiding, like a gorged Boa Constrictor, into
-torpidity; and in this state, grasping an extinguished candle, he
-lights himself up to bed. Clarinda follows, stumbling through her steps
-in a doze-à-doze; the brother is next, and Mamma having seen with half
-an eye, or something less, that all is safe, winds up the procession.</p>
-
-<p>Every Ball, however, has its rebound, and so has this in their
-dreams&mdash;with the mother who has a daughter, as a Golden Ball; with the
-daughter, who has a lover, as an eye-ball; with his son, who has a
-rival, as a pistol-ball; but with the father, who has no dreams at all,
-as nothing but the blacking-ball of oblivion.</p>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="LITERARY_AND_LITERAL">LITERARY AND LITERAL.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">T<span class="smaller">HE</span> March of Mind upon its mighty stilts,</div>
-      <div class="verse">(A spirit by no means to fasten mocks on,)</div>
-      <div class="verse">In travelling through Berks, Beds, Notts, and Wilts,
-        Hants&mdash;Bucks, Herts, Oxon,</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Got up a thing our ancestors ne’er thought on,</div>
-      <div class="verse">A thing that, only in our proper youth,</div>
-      <div class="verse">We should have chuckled at&mdash;in sober truth,</div>
-      <div class="verse">A Conversazione at Hog’s Norton!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A place whose native dialect, somehow,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Has always by an adage been affronted,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And that it is all <i>gutturals</i>, is now</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">Taken for grunted.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Conceive the snoring of a greedy swine,</div>
-      <div class="verse">The slobbering of a hungry Ursine Sloth&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">If you have ever heard such creature dine&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And&mdash;for Hog’s Norton, make a mix of both!&mdash;</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">O shades of Shakspeare! Chaucer! Spenser!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Milton! Pope! Gray! Warton!</div>
-      <div class="verse">O Colman! Kenny! Planche! Poole! Peake!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Pocock! Reynolds! Morton!</div>
-      <div class="verse">O Grey! Peel! Sadler! Wilberforce! Burdett!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Hume! Wilmot Horton!</div>
-      <div class="verse">Think of your prose and verse, and worse&mdash;delivered in Hog’s Norton!&mdash;</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">The founder of Hog’s Norton Athenæum</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">Framed her society</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">With some variety</div>
-      <div class="verse">From Mr. Roscoe’s Liverpool museum;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Not a mere pic-nic, for the mind’s repast,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But tempting to the solid knife-and-forker,</div>
-      <div class="verse">It held its sessions in the house that last</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">Had killed a porker.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">It chanced one Friday,</div>
-      <div class="verse">One Farmer Grayley stuck a very big hog,</div>
-      <div class="verse">A perfect Gog or Magog of a pig-hog,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Which made of course a literary high day,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Not that our Farmer was a man to go</div>
-      <div class="verse">With literary tastes&mdash;so far from suiting ’em,</div>
-      <div class="verse">When he heard mention of Professor <i>Crowe</i>,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or Lalla-<i>Rookh</i>, he always was for shooting ’em!</div>
-      <div class="verse">In fact in letters he was quite a log,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">With him great Bacon</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">Was literally taken.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_115" name="i_115">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_115.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“’TIS PLEASANT SURE TO SEE ONE’S SELF IN PRINT.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">And Hogg&mdash;the Poet&mdash;nothing but a Hog!</div>
-      <div class="verse">As to all others on the list of Fame,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Although they were discuss’d and mention’d daily,</div>
-      <div class="verse">He only recognised one classic name,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And thought that <i>she</i> had hung herself&mdash;<i>Miss Baillie</i>!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">To balance this, our Farmer’s only daughter</div>
-      <div class="verse">Had a great taste for the Castalian water&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">A Wordsworth worshipper&mdash;a Southey wooer,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">(Though men that deal in water-colour cakes</div>
-      <div class="verse">May disbelieve the fact&mdash;yet nothing’s truer)</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">She got the <i>bluer</i></div>
-      <div class="verse">The more she dipped and dabbled in the <i>Lakes</i>.</div>
-      <div class="verse">The secret truth is, Hope, the old deceiver,</div>
-      <div class="verse">At future Authorship was apt to hint,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Producing what some call the <i>Type-us</i> Fever,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Which means a burning to be seen in print.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Of learning’s laurels&mdash;Miss Joanna Baillie&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of Mrs. Hemans&mdash;Mrs. Wilson&mdash;daily</div>
-      <div class="verse">Dreamt Anne Priscilla Isabella Grayley;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And Fancy hinting that she had the better</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of L.E.L. by one initial letter,</div>
-      <div class="verse">She thought the world would quite enraptur’d see</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft6">“L<span class="smaller">OVE</span> L<span class="smaller">AYS AND</span> L<span class="smaller">YRICS</span></div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft10"><span class="smaller">BY</span></div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft9">A P I G.”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Accordingly, with very great propriety,</div>
-      <div class="verse">She joined the H. N. B. and double S.,</div>
-      <div class="verse">That is,&mdash;Hog’s Norton Blue Stocking Society;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And saving when her Pa his pigs prohibited,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">Contributed</div>
-      <div class="verse">Her pork and poetry towards the mess.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">This feast, we said, one Friday was the case</div>
-      <div class="verse">When farmer Grayley&mdash;from Macbeth to quote&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Screwing his courage to the “sticking place,”</div>
-      <div class="verse">Stuck a large knife into a grunter’s throat;&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">A kind of murder that the law’s rebuke</div>
-      <div class="verse">Seldom condemns by shake of its peruke,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Showing the little sympathy of <i>big-wigs</i></div>
-      <div class="verse mleft6">With <i>pig-wigs</i>!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">The swine&mdash;poor wretch!&mdash;with nobody to speak for it,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And beg its life, resolved to have a squeak for it;</div>
-      <div class="verse">So&mdash;like the fabled swan&mdash;died singing out,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And, thus, there issued from the farmer’s yard</div>
-      <div class="verse">A note that notified without a card,</div>
-      <div class="verse">An invitation to the evening rout.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_117" name="i_117">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_117.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">BREAKING UP, NO HOLIDAY.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">And when the time came duly,&mdash;“At the close of</div>
-      <div class="verse">The day,” as Beattie has it, “when the ham&mdash;”</div>
-      <div class="verse">Bacon and pork were ready to dispose of,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And pettitoes and chit’lings too, to cram,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Walked in the H. N. B. and double S.’s,</div>
-      <div class="verse">All in appropriate and swinish dresses,</div>
-      <div class="verse">For lo! it is a fact, and not a joke,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Although the Muse might fairly jest upon it,</div>
-      <div class="verse">They came&mdash;each “Pig-faced Lady,” in that bonnet</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">We call <i>a poke</i>.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">The Members all assembled thus, a rare woman</div>
-      <div class="verse">At pork and poetry was chosen <i>chairwoman</i>;&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">In fact, the bluest of the Blues, Miss Ikey,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Whose whole pronunciation was so piggy,</div>
-      <div class="verse">She always named the authoress of “<i>Psyche</i>”&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">As Mrs. <i>Tiggey</i>!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">And now arose a question of some moment,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">What author for a lecture was the richer,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Bacon or Hogg? there were no votes for Beaumont,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">But some for <i>Flitcher</i>;</div>
-      <div class="verse">While others, with a more sagacious reasoning,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">Proposed another work,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">And thought their pork</div>
-      <div class="verse">Would prove more relishing from Thomson’s Season-ing!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">But, practised in Shakspearian readings daily&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">O! Miss Macaulay! Shakspeare at Hog’s Norton!&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Miss Anne Priscilla Isabella Grayley</div>
-      <div class="verse">Selected <i>him</i> that evening to snort on.</div>
-      <div class="verse">In short, to make our story not a big tale,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">Just fancy her exerting</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">Her talents, and converting</div>
-      <div class="verse">The Winter’s Tale to something like a pig-tale!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">Her sister auditory</div>
-      <div class="verse">All sitting round, with grave and learned faces,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">Were very plauditory,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of course, and clapped her at the proper places;</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Till fanned at once by fortune and the Muse,</div>
-      <div class="verse">She thought herself the blessedest of Blues.</div>
-      <div class="verse">But Happiness, alas! has blights of ill,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And Pleasure’s bubbles in the air explode;&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">There is no travelling through life but still</div>
-      <div class="verse">The heart will meet with breakers on the road!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft4">With that peculiar voice</div>
-      <div class="verse">Heard only from Hog’s Norton throats and noses,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Miss G., with Perdita, was making choice</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of buds and blossoms for her summer posies,</div>
-      <div class="verse">When coming to that line, where Proserpine</div>
-      <div class="verse">Lets fall her flowers from the wain of Dis;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">Imagine this&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Uprose on his hind legs old Farmer Grayley,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Grunting this question for the club’s digestion,</div>
-      <div class="verse">“Do <i>Dis’s Waggon</i> go from the Ould Bäaley?”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_119" name="i_119">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_119.jpg"
-      alt="Moths" /></a>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_ACCIDENT">THE ACCIDENT.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="s5 center mbot2">“We thought she never would ride it out, and expected her
-every moment to go to pieces.”&mdash;N<span class="smaller">AVAL</span>
-S<span class="smaller">KETCH</span> B<span class="smaller">OOK</span>.</p>
-
-<p>“T<span class="smaller">HERE</span> you go, you villain&mdash;that’s the way to run over people! There’s
-a little boy in the road&mdash;you’d better run over <i>him</i>, for you won’t
-call out to him, no, not you, for a brute as you are! You think poor
-people an’t common Christians,&mdash;you grind the faces of the poor, you
-do. Ay, cut away, do&mdash;you’ll be Wilful Murdered by the Crowner some
-day! I’ll keep up with you and tell the gentlemen on the top! Women
-wasn’t created for you to gallop over like dirt, and scrunch their
-bones into compound fractions.&mdash;Don’t get into his coach, Ma’am! he’s
-no respect for the sects&mdash;he’ll lay you up in the hospital for months
-and months, he will, the inhuman hard-hearted varmin!”</p>
-
-<p>The speaker, a little active old woman, had run parallel with the coach
-some fifty yards, when it stopped to take up a lady who was as prompt
-as ladies generally are, in giving dinner instructions to the cook,
-and setting domestic lessons to the housemaid, besides having to pack
-a parcel, to hunt for her clogs, to exchange the cook’s umbrella for
-her own, and to kiss all her seven children. Mat, thus reduced to a
-door-mat, was unable to escape the volley which the Virago still poured
-in upon him; but he kept a most imperturbable face and silence till he
-was fairly seated again on the box.</p>
-
-<p>“There, gentlemen,” said he, pointing at the assailant with his whip;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>
-“that’s what I call gratitude. Look at her figure now, and look at what
-it was six months ago. She never had a waist till I run over her.”</p>
-
-<p>“I hope, friend, thee art not very apt to make these experiments on the
-human figure,” said an elderly Quaker on the roof. “Not by no means,”
-answered Mat; “I have done very little in the accidental line&mdash;nothing
-worth mentioning. All the years I’ve been on the road, I’ve never
-come to a kill on the spot; them sort o’things belongs to Burrowes,
-as drives over one with the Friend in Need, and he’s got quite a name
-for it. He’s called ‘Fatal Jack.’ To be sure, now I think of it, I was
-the innocent cause of death to one person, and she was rather out of
-the common.” “You fractured her limbs, p’r’aps?” inquired one of the
-outsides. “No such thing,” said Mat, “there was nothing fractious in
-the case; as to running over her limbs, it was the impossible thing
-with a woman born without legs and arms.” “You must allude to Miss
-Biffin,” said the outsider&mdash;“the Norfolk phenomenon.”</p>
-
-<p>“Begging your pardon,” said Mat,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> “it was before the Phenomenon was
-started. It was one of the regular old long-bodied double-coaches,
-and I drove it myself. Very uneasy they were; for springs at that
-time hadn’t much spring in ’em; and nobody on earth had thought of
-Macadaming Piccadilly. You could always tell whether you were on the
-stones, or off, and no mistake. I was a full hour behind time&mdash;for
-coaches in them days wasn’t called by such names as Chronometers and
-Regulators, and good reason why. So I’d been plying a full hour after
-time, without a soul inside, except a barrel of natives for a customer
-down the road: at last, a hackney-coach pulls up, and Jarvey and the
-waterman lifts Miss Biffin into my drag. Well, off I sets with a light
-load enough, and to fetch up time astonished my team into a bit of a
-gallop&mdash;and it wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to keep one’s seat
-on the box, the coach jumped so over the stones. Well, away I goes,
-springing my rattle till I come to the gate at Hyde Park Corner, where
-one of my insides was waiting for me&mdash;and not very sorry to pull up,
-for the breath was almost shook out of my bellows. Well, I opens the
-door, and what do I see lying together at the bottom of the coach,
-but Miss Biffin bruised unsensible, and the head out of the barrel of
-oysters!”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_122" name="i_122">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_122.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">FANCY PORTRAIT&mdash;OLD SARUM.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>“I do hope, friend,” said the elderly Quaker, “that thou didst replace
-them on their seats.”</p>
-
-<p>“To be sure I did,” answered Mat, “and the oysters took it quietly
-enough, without opening their mouths; but it didn’t go quite so smooth
-with Miss B. She talked of an action for damages, and consulted
-counsel; but, Lord bless you, when it came to taking steps agin us, she
-hadn’t a leg to stand upon!”</p>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_123" name="i_123">
-   <img class="mtop3" src="images/i_123.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption">DICKY BIRDS.</p>
-</div>
-
-<h2 class="nopad" id="SONNET_TO_LORD_WHARNCLIFFE">SONNET.<br />
-
-<span class="s6">TO LORD WHARNCLIFFE, ON HIS GAME-BILL.</span></h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">I’m fond of partridges, I’m fond of snipes,</div>
-      <div class="verse">I’m fond of black cocks, for they’re very good cocks&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">I’m fond of wild ducks, and I’m fond of woodcocks&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And grouse that set up such strange moorish pipes.</div>
-      <div class="verse">I’m fond of pheasants with their splendid stripes&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">I’m fond of hares, whether from Whig or Tory&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">I’m fond of capercailzies in their glory,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Teal, widgeons, plovers, birds in all their types:</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">All these are in your care, Law-giving Peer,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And when you next address your Lordly Babel,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Some clause put in your Bill, precise and clear,</div>
-      <div class="verse">With due and fit provision to enable</div>
-      <div class="verse">A man that holds all kinds of game so dear</div>
-      <div class="verse">To keep, like Crockford, a good Gaming Table.</div>
-    </div>
-
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="LITERARY_REMINISCENCES_I">LITERARY REMINISCENCES.<br />
-
-<span class="s6">No. I.</span></h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza-heading">
-      <div class="verse">T<span class="smaller">IME</span> was, I sat upon a lofty stool,</div>
-      <div class="verse">At lofty desk, and with a clerkly pen</div>
-      <div class="verse">Began each morning, at the stroke of ten,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To write in Bell and Co.’s commercial school;</div>
-      <div class="verse">In Warnford Court, a shady nook and cool,</div>
-      <div class="verse">The favourite retreat of merchant men;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Yet would my quill turn vagrant even then,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And take stray dips in the Castalian pool.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Now double entry&mdash;now a flowery trope&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Mingling poetic honey with trade wax&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Blogg, Brothers&mdash;Milton&mdash;Grote and Prescott&mdash;Pope&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Bristles&mdash;and Hogg&mdash;Glyn Mills and Halifax&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Rogers&mdash;and Towgood&mdash;Hemp&mdash;the Bard of Hope&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Barilla&mdash;Byron&mdash;Tallow&mdash;Burns&mdash;and Flax!</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p>M<span class="smaller">Y</span> commercial career was a brief one, and deserved only a sonnet in
-commemoration. The fault, however, lay not with the muses. To commit
-poetry indeed is a crime ranking next to forgery in the counting-house
-code; and an Ode or a song dated Copthall Court, would be as certainly
-noted and protested as a dishonoured bill. I have even heard of an
-unfortunate clerk, who lost his situation through being tempted by the
-jingle to subscribe under an account current</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Excepted all errors</div>
-      <div class="verse">Made by John Ferrers,”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="p0">his employer emphatically declaring that Poetry and Logwood could never
-coexist in the same head. The principal of <i>our</i> firm on the contrary
-had a turn for the Belles Lettres, and would have winked with both
-eyes at verses which did not in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>trude into an invoice or confuse their
-figures with those of the Ledger. The true cause of my retirement from
-Commercial affairs was more prosaic. My constitution, though far from
-venerable, had begun to show symptoms of decay: my appetite failed,
-and its principal creditor, the stomach, received only an ounce in the
-pound. My spirits daily became a shade lower&mdash;my flesh was held less
-and less firmly&mdash;in short, in the language of the price current, it
-was expected that I must “submit to a decline.” The Doctors who were
-called in, declared imperatively that a mercantile life would be the
-death of me&mdash;that by so much sitting, I was hatching a whole brood of
-complaints, and that no Physician would insure me as a merchantman from
-the Port of London to the next Spring. The Exchange, they said, was
-against me, and as the Exchange itself used to ring with “Life let us
-Cherish,” there was no resisting the advice. I was ordered to abstain
-from Ashes, Bristles, and Petersburg yellow candle, and to indulge in
-a more generous diet&mdash;to take regular country exercise instead of the
-Russia Walk, and to go to bed early even on Foreign Post nights. Above
-all I was recommended change of air, and in particular the bracing
-breezes of the North. Accordingly I was soon shipped as per advice,
-in a Scotch Smack, which “<i>smacked</i> through the breeze,” as Dibdin
-sings so merrily, that on the fourth morning we were in sight of the
-prominent old Steeple of “Bonny Dundee.”</p>
-
-<p>My Biographer, in the Book of Gems, alludes to this voyage, and
-infers from some verses&mdash;“Gadzooks! must one swear to the truth of a
-song?”&mdash;that it sickened me of the sea. Nothing can be more unfounded.
-The marine terrors and disagreeables enumerated in the poem, belong
-to a Miss Oliver, and not to me, who regard the ocean with a natural
-and national partiality. Constitutionally proof against that nausea
-which extorts so many wave-offerings from the afflicted, I am as
-constant as Captain Basil Hall himself, in my regard<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> “for the element
-that never tires.” Some washy fellows, it is true, <i>Fresh</i>-men from
-Cambridge and the like, affect to prefer river or even pond water for
-their aquatics&mdash;the tame ripple to the wild wave, the prose to “the
-poetry of motion.” But give <i>me</i> “the multitudinous sea,” resting
-or rampant, with all its variable moods and changeable colouring.
-Methought, when pining under the <i>maladie du pays</i>, on a hopeless, sick
-bed, inland, in Germany, it would have relieved those yearnings but to
-look across an element so instinct with English associations, that it
-would seem rather to unite me to than sever me from my native island.
-And, truly, when I did at last stand on the brink of the dark blue
-sea, my home-sick wishes seemed already half fulfilled, and it was not
-till many months afterwards that I actually crossed the Channel. But
-I am, besides, personally under deep obligations to the great deep.
-Twice, indeed, in a calm, and in a storm, has my life been threatened
-with a salt-water catastrophe; but that quarrel has long been made
-up, and forgiven, in gratitude for the blessing and bracing influence
-of the breezes that smack of the ocean brine. Dislike the sea!&mdash;With
-what delight aforetime used I to swim in it, to dive in it, to sail
-on it! Ask honest Tom Woodgate, of Hastings, who made of me, for a
-landsman, a tolerable boatsman. Even now, when do I feel so easy in
-body, and so cheerful in spirit, as when walking hard by the surge,
-listening, as if expecting some whisperings of friendly but distant
-voices, in its eternal murmuring. Sick of the sea! If ever I have
-a water-drinking fancy, it is a wish that the ocean brine had been
-sweet, or sour instead of salt, so as to be potable; for what can be
-more tempting <i>to the eye</i> as a draught, than the pure fluid, almost
-invisible with clearness, as it lies in some sandy scoop, or rocky
-hollow, a true “Diamond of the Desert,” to say nothing of the same
-living liquid in its effervescing state, when it sparkles up, hissing
-and bubbling in the ship’s wake&mdash;the very Champaigne<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> of water! Above
-all what intellectual solar and soothing syrup have I not derived from
-the mere contemplation of the boundless main,&mdash;the most effectual and
-innocent of mental sedatives, and often called in aid of that practical
-philosophy it has been my wont to recommend in the present work. For
-whenever, owing to physical depression, or a discordant state of the
-nerves, my personal vexations and cares, real or imaginary, become
-importunate in my thoughts, and acquire, by morbid exaggeration, an
-undue prominence and importance, what remedy then so infallible as
-to mount to my solitary seat in the look-out, and thence gaze awhile
-across the broad expanse, till in the presence of that vast horizon,
-my proper troubles shrink to their true proportions, and I look on
-the whole race of men, with their insignificant pursuits, as so many
-shrimpers! But this is a digression&mdash;We have made the harbour of
-Dundee, and it is time to step ashore in “stout and original Scotland,”
-as it is called by Doctor Adolphus Wagner, in his German edition of
-Burns<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a>.</p>
-
-<p>Like other shipments, I had been regularly addressed to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> care of a
-consignee:&mdash;but the latter, not anxious, probably, to take charge of
-a hobbledehoy, yet at the same time unwilling to incur the reproach
-of having a relative in the same town and not under the same roof,
-peremptorily declined the office. Nay, more, she pronounced against
-me a capital sentence, so far as returning to the place from whence I
-came, and even proceeded to bespeak my passage and reship my luggage.
-Judging from such vigorous measures the temper of my customer, instead
-of remonstrating, I affected resignation, and went with a grave face
-through the farce of a formal leave-taking; I even went on board, but
-it was in company with a stout fellow who relanded my baggage; and
-thus, whilst my transporter imagined, good easy soul! that the rejected
-article was sailing round St. Abb’s Head, or rolling off the Bass, he
-was actually safe and snug in Dundee, quietly laughing in his sleeve
-with the Law at his back. I have a confused recollection of meeting,
-some three or four days afterwards, a female cousin on her road to
-school, who at sight of me turned suddenly round, and galloped off
-towards home with the speed of a scared heifer.</p>
-
-<p>My first concern was now to look out for some comfortable roof, under
-which “for a consideration” one would be treated as one of the family.
-I entered accordingly into a treaty with a respectable widower, who had
-no sons of his own, but in spite of the most undeniable references, and
-a general accordance as to terms, there occurred a mysterious hitch in
-the arrangement, arising from a whimsical prepossession which only came
-afterwards to my knowledge&mdash;namely, that an English laddie, instead
-of supping parritch, would inevitably require a rump-steak to his
-breakfeast! My next essay was more successful; and ended in my being
-regularly installed in a boarding-house, kept by a Scotchwoman, who was
-not so sure of my being a beefeater. She was a sort of widow, with a
-seafaring husband “as good as dead,” and in her appearance not unlike a
-personi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>fication of <i>rouge et noir</i>, with her red eyes, her red face,
-her yellow teeth, and her black velvet cap. The first day of my term
-happened to be also the first day of the new year, and on stepping from
-my bed-room, I encountered our Hostess&mdash;like a witch and her familiar
-spirit&mdash;with a huge bottle of whiskey in one hand, and a glass in the
-other. It was impossible to decline the dram she pressed upon me, and
-very good it proved, and undoubtedly strong, seeing that for some time
-I could only muse its praise in expressive silence, and indeed, I was
-only able to speak with “a <i>small still</i> voice” for several minutes
-afterwards. Such was my characteristic introduction to the Land of
-Cakes, where I was destined to spend the greater part of two years,
-under circumstances likely to materially influence the colouring and
-filling up of my future life.</p>
-
-<p>To properly estimate the dangers of my position, imagine a boy of
-fifteen, at the Nore, as it were, of life, thus left dependent on
-his own pilotage for a safe voyage to the Isle of Man; or conceive
-a juvenile Telemachus, without a Mentor, brought suddenly into the
-perilous neighbourhood of Calypso and her enchantments. It will hardly
-be expected, that from some half-dozen of young bachelors, there came
-forth any solemn voice didactically warning me in the strain of the
-sage Imlac to the Prince of Abyssinia. In fact, I recollect receiving
-but one solitary serious admonition, and that was from a she cousin of
-ten years old, that the Spectator I was reading on a Sunday morning,
-“was no the Bible.” For there was still much of this pious rigour
-extant in Scotland, though a gentleman was no longer committed to
-Tolboothia Infelix, for an unseasonable promenade during church time.
-It was once, however, my fortune to witness a sample of the <i>ancien
-régime</i> at an evening party composed chiefly of young and rather
-fashionable persons, when lo! like an Anachronism confounding times
-past with times present, there came out of some corner an antique
-figure,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> with quaintly cut blue suit and three-cornered hat, not unlike
-a very old Greenwich Pensioner, who taking his stand in front of the
-circle, deliberately asked a blessing of formidable length on the thin
-bread and butter, the short cake, the marmalade, and the Pekoe tea. And
-here, <i>en passant</i>, it may be worth while to remark, for the benefit of
-our Agnews and Plumtres, as illustrating the intrinsic value of such
-sanctimonious pretension, that the elder Scotland, so renowned for
-armlong graces, and redundant preachments, and abundant psalm-singing,
-has yet bequeathed to posterity a singularly liberal collection of
-songs, the reverie of Divine and Moral, such as “can only be sung when
-the punch-bowl has done its work and the wild wit is set free<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a>.”</p>
-
-<p>To return to my boarding-house, which with all its chairs, had none
-appropriated to a Professor of Moral Philosophy. In the absence of
-such a monitor, nature, fortunately for myself, had gifted me with a
-taste for reading, which the languor of ill-health, inclining me to
-sedentary habits, helped materially to encourage. Whatever books, good,
-bad, or indifferent, happened to come within my reach, were perused
-with the greatest avidity, and however indiscriminate the course, the
-balance of the impressions thence derived was decidedly in favour of
-the allegorical lady, so wisely preferred by Hercules when he had
-to make his election between Virtue and Vice. Of the material that
-ministered to this appetite, I shall always regret that I did not
-secure, as a literary curiosity&mdash;a collection of halfpenny Ballads,
-the property of a Grocer’s apprentice, and which contained, amongst
-other matters, a new version of Chevy Chase, wherein the victory was
-transferred to the Scots. In the mean time, this bookishness acquired
-for me a sort of reputation for scholarship amongst my comrades, and
-in consequence my pen was sometimes called into requisition, in divers
-and sometimes delicate cases. Thus for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> one party, whom the Gods had
-not made poetical, I composed a love-letter in verse; for another,
-whose education had been neglected, I carried on a correspondence with
-reference to a tobacco manufactory in which he was a sleeping partner;
-whilst, on a graver occasion, the hand now peacefully setting down
-these reminiscences, was employed in penning a most horrible peremptory
-invitation to pistols and twelve paces, till one was nicked. The
-facts were briefly these. A spicy-tempered captain of Artillery, in a
-dispute with a superior officer, had rashly cashiered himself by either
-throwing up or tearing up his commission. In this dilemma he arrived
-at Dundee, to assume a post in the Customs, which had been procured
-for him by the interest of his friends. To his infinite indignation,
-however, he found that instead of a lucrative surveyorship, he had
-been appointed a simple tide-waiter! and magnificent was the rage with
-which he tore, trampled, and danced on the little official paper book
-wherein he had been set to tick off, bale by bale, a cargo of “infernal
-hemp.” Unluckily, on the very day of this revelation, a forgery was
-perpetrated on the local Bank, and those sapient Dogberries, the
-town officers, saw fit to take up our persecuted ex-captain, on the
-simple ground that he was the last stranger who had entered the town.
-Rendered almost frantic by this second insult, nothing would serve
-him in his paroxysm but calling somebody out, and he pitched at once
-on the cashier of the defrauded Bank. As the state of his nerves
-would not permit him to write, he entreated me earnestly to draw up a
-defiance, which I performed, at the expense of an agony of suppressed
-laughter, merely to imagine the effect of such a missive on the man of
-business&mdash;a respectable powdered, bald, pudgy, pacific little body,
-with no more idea of “going out” than a cow in a field of clover. I
-forget the precise result&mdash;but certainly there was no duel.</p>
-
-<div class="footnotes">
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> The Baron Dupotet de Sennevoy and Doctor Elliotson, will
-doubtless be glad to be informed, that the inspired Scottish Poet was
-a believer in their magnetismal mysteries&mdash;at least in the article of
-reading a book behind the back. In a letter to Mr. Robert Ainslie, is
-the following passage in proof. “I have no doubt but scholarcraft may
-be caught, as a Scotchman catches the itch&mdash;by friction. How else can
-you account for it that born blockheads, by mere dint of <i>handling</i>
-books, grow so wise that even they themselves are equally convinced of
-and surprised at their own parts? I once carried that philosophy to
-that degree, that in a knot of country folks, who had a library amongst
-them, and who, to the honour of their good sense, made me factotum in
-the business; one of our members, a little wiselook, squat, upright,
-jabbering body of a tailor, I advised him instead of turning over the
-leaves, <i>to bind the book on his back</i>. Johnnie took the hint, and
-as our meetings were every fourth Saturday, and Pricklouse having a
-good Scots mile to walk in coming, and of course another in returning,
-Bodkin was sure to lay his hand on some heavy quarto or ponderous
-folio; with and under which, wrapt up in his gray plaid, he grew wise
-as he grew weary all the way home. He carried this so far, that an old
-musty Hebrew Concordance, which we had in a present from a neighbouring
-priest, <i>by mere dint of applying it as doctors do a blistering
-plaster, between his shoulders</i>, Stitch, in a dozen pilgrimages,
-acquired as much rational theology as the said priest had done by forty
-years’ perusal of its pages.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> A. Cunningham.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="ODE_TO_PERRY">ODE TO PERRY,<br />
-
-<span class="s6">THE INVENTOR OF THE PATENT PERRYAN PEN.</span></h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="s5">“In this good work, Penn appears the greatest, usefullest of God’s
-instruments. Firm and unbending when the exigency requires it&mdash;soft
-and yielding when rigid inflexibility is not a desideratum, fluent
-and flowing, at need, for eloquent rapidity&mdash;slow and retentive
-in cases of deliberation&mdash;never spluttering or by amplification
-going wide of the mark&mdash;never splitting, if it can be helped, with
-any one, but ready to wear itself out rather in their service&mdash;all
-things as it were with all men, ready to embrace the hand of Jew,
-Christian or Mahometan,&mdash;heavy with the German, light with the
-Italian, oblique with the English, upright with the Roman, backward
-in coming forward with the Hebrew,&mdash;in short, for flexibility,
-amiability, constitutional durability, general ability, and
-universal utility, it would be hard to find a parallel to the great
-Penn.”</p>
-
-<p class="s5 right mright2 mbot2">P<span class="smaller">ERRY</span>’<span class="smaller">S</span>
-C<span class="smaller">HARACTERISTICS OF A</span>
-S<span class="smaller">ETTLER</span>.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft9">I.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">O! Patent, Pen-inventing Perrian Perry!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Friend of the Goose and Gander,</div>
-      <div class="verse">That now unplucked of their quill-feathers wander,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Cackling, and gabbling, dabbling, making merry,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">About the happy Fen,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Untroubled for one penny-worth of pen,</div>
-      <div class="verse">For which they chant thy praise all Britain through,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">From Goose-Green unto Gander-Cleugh!&mdash;</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft9">II.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Friend to all Author-kind&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Whether of Poet or of Proser,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Thou art composer unto the composer</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of pens,&mdash;yea, patent vehicles for Mind</div>
-      <div class="verse">To carry it on jaunts, or more extensive</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1"><i>Perry</i>grinations through the realms of Thought;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Each plying from the Comic to the Pensive,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">An Omnibus of intellectual sort!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft9">III.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Modern Improvements in their course we feel;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And while to iron-railroads heavy wares,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Dry goods, and human bodies, pay their fares,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Mind flies on steel,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To Penrith, Penrhyn, even to Penzance.</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Nay, penetrates, perchance,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To Pennsylvania, or without rash vaunts,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">To where the Penguin haunts!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft9">IV.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">In times bygone, when each man cut his quill</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">With little Perryan skill,</div>
-      <div class="verse">What horrid, awkward, bungling tools of trade</div>
-      <div class="verse">Appear’d the writing implements home-made!</div>
-      <div class="verse">What Pens were sliced, hew’d, hack’d, and haggled out,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Slit or unslit, with many a various snout,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Aquiline, Roman, crooked, square, and snubby,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">Stumpy and stubby;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Some capable of ladye-billets neat,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Some only fit for Ledger-keeping Clerk,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And some to grub down Peter Stubbs his mark,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or smudge through some illegible receipt;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Others in florid caligraphic plans,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Equal to Ships, and wiggy Heads, and Swans!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft9">V.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">To try in any common inkstands, then,</div>
-      <div class="verse">With all their miscellaneous stocks,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">To find a decent pen,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Was like a dip into a lucky box:</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">You drew,&mdash;and got one very curly,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And split like endive in some hurly-burly;</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">The next, unslit, and square at end, a spade;</div>
-      <div class="verse">The third, incipient pop-gun, not yet made;</div>
-      <div class="verse">The fourth a broom; the fifth of no avail,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Turn’d upwards, like a rabbit’s tail;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And last, not least, by way of a relief,</div>
-      <div class="verse">A stump that Master Richard, James, or John,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Had tried his candle-cookery upon,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">Making “roast-beef!”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft9">VI.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Not so thy Perryan Pens!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">True to their M’s and N’s,</div>
-      <div class="verse">They do not with a whizzing zig-zag split,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Straddle, turn up their noses, sulk, and spit,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">Or drop large dots,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">Huge fullstop blots,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Where even semicolons were unfit.</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">They will not frizzle up, or, broom-like, drudge</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">In sable sludge&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Nay, bought at proper “Patent Perryan” shops,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">They write good grammar, sense, and mind their stops;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Compose both prose and verse, the sad or merry&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">For when the Editor, whose pains compile</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">The grown-up Annual, or the Juvenile,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Vaunteth his articles, not women’s, men’s,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">But lays “by the most celebrated Pens,”</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">What means he but thy Patent Pens, my Perry?</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft9">VII.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Pleasant they are to feel!</div>
-      <div class="verse">So firm! so flexible! composed of steel</div>
-      <div class="verse">So finely temper’d&mdash;fit for tenderest Miss</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">To give her passion breath,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or Kings to sign the warrant stern of death&mdash;</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">But their supremest merit still is this,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Write with them all your days,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Tragedy, Comedy, all kinds of plays&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">(No Dramatist should ever be without ’em)&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">And, just conceive the bliss,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">There is so little of the goose aboot ’em,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">One’s safe from any hiss!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft9">VIII.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Ah! who can paint that first great awful night,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Big with a blessing or a blight,</div>
-      <div class="verse">When the poor Dramatist, all fume and fret,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Fuss, fidget, fancy, fever, funking, fright,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Ferment, fault-fearing, faintness&mdash;more f’s yet:</div>
-      <div class="verse">Flushed, frigid, flurried, flinching, fitful, flat,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Add famished, fuddled, and fatigued, to that;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Funeral, fate-foreboding&mdash;sits in doubt,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or rather doubt with hope, a wretched marriage,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To see his Play upon the stage come out;</div>
-      <div class="verse">No stage to him! it is Thalia’s carriage,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And he is sitting on the spikes behind it,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Striving to look as if he didn’t mind it!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft9">IX.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Witness how Beazley vents upon his hat</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">His nervousness, meanwhile his fate is dealt:</div>
-      <div class="verse">He kneads, moulds, pummels it, and sits it flat,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Squeezes and twists it up, until the felt</div>
-      <div class="verse">That went a Beaver in, comes out a Rat!</div>
-      <div class="verse">Miss Mitford had mis-givings, and in fright,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Upon Rienzi’s night,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Gnaw’d up one long kid glove, and all her bag,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Quite to a rag.</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Knowles has confess’d he trembled as for life</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Afraid of his own “Wife;”</div>
-      <div class="verse">Poole told me that he felt a monstrous pail</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of water backing him, all down his spine,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">“The ice-brook’s temper”&mdash;pleasant to the chine!</div>
-      <div class="verse">For fear that Simpson and his Co. should fail.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Did Lord Glengall not frame a mental pray’r,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Wishing devoutly he was Lord knows where?</div>
-      <div class="verse">Nay, did not Jerrold, in enormous drouth,</div>
-      <div class="verse">While doubtful of Nell Gwynne’s eventful luck,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Squeeze out and suck</div>
-      <div class="verse">More oranges with his one fevered mouth,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Than Nelly had to hawk from North to South?</div>
-      <div class="verse">Yea, Buckstone, changing colour like a mullet,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Refused, on an occasion, once, twice, thrice,</div>
-      <div class="verse">From his best friend, an ice,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Lest it should hiss in his own red-hot gullet.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft9">X.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Doth punning Peake not sit upon the points</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of his own jokes, and shake in all his joints,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">During their trial?</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">’Tis past denial.</div>
-      <div class="verse">And does not Pocock, feeling, like a peacock,</div>
-      <div class="verse">All eyes upon him, turn to very meacock?</div>
-      <div class="verse">And does not Planché, tremulous and blank,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Meanwhile his personages tread the boards,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">Seem goaded by sharp swords,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And call’d upon himself to “walk the plank?”</div>
-      <div class="verse">As for the Dances, Charles and George to boot,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">What have they more</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of ease and rest, for sole of either foot,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Than bear that capers on a hotted floor?</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft9">XI.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Thus pending&mdash;does not Mathews, at sad shift</div>
-      <div class="verse">For voice, croak like a frog in waters fenny?&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Serle seem upon the surly seas adrift?&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And Kenny think he’s going to Kilkenny?&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Haynes Bayly feel Old ditto, with the note</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of Cotton in his ear, a mortal grapple</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">About his arms, and Adam’s apples</div>
-      <div class="verse">Big as a fine Dutch codling in his throat?</div>
-      <div class="verse">Did Rodwell, on his chimney-piece, desire</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or not to take a jump into the fire?</div>
-      <div class="verse">Did Wade feel as composed as music can?</div>
-      <div class="verse">And was not Bernard his own Nervous Man?</div>
-      <div class="verse">Lastly, don’t Farley, a bewildered elf,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Quake at the Pantomime he loves to cater,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And ere its changes ring, transform himself?&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">A frightful mug of human delf?</div>
-      <div class="verse">A spirit-bottle&mdash;empty of “the cratur”?</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">A leaden-platter ready for the shelf?</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">A thunderstruck dumb-waiter?</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft9">XII.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft2">To clench the fact,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Myself once guilty, of one small rash act,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Committed at the Surrey</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Quite in a hurry,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Felt all this flurry,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Corporal worry,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And spiritual scurry,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Dram-devil&mdash;attic curry!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">All going well</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">From prompter’s bell,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Until befel</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">A hissing at some dull imperfect dunce&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">There’s no denying,</div>
-      <div class="verse">I felt in all four elements at once!</div>
-      <div class="verse">My head was swimming, while my arms were flying,</div>
-      <div class="verse">My legs for running&mdash;all the rest was frying!</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_138" name="i_138">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_138.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">HIS-TRIONICS.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft9">XIII.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Thrice welcome, then, for this peculiar use,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Thy pens so innocent of goose!</div>
-      <div class="verse">For this shall Dramatists, when they make merry,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">Discarding Port and Sherry,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft5">Drink&mdash;“Perry!”</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Perry, whose fame, pennated, is let loose</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">To distant lands,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Perry, admitted on all hands,</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">Text, running, German, Roman,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">For Patent Perryans approach’d by no man!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">And when, ah me! far distant be the hour!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Pluto shall call thee to his gloomy bow’r,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Many shall be thy pensive mourners, many!</div>
-      <div class="verse">And Penury itself shall club its penny,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To raise thy monument in lofty place;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Higher than York’s, or any son of War;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Whilst Time all meaner effigies shall bury,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">On due pentagonal base,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Shall stand the Parian, Perryan, perriwig’d Perry</div>
-      <div class="verse">Perch’d on the proudest peak of Penman Mawr!</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_139" name="i_139">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_139.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“PENNSYLVANIA.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="SKETCHES_ON_THE_ROAD">SKETCHES ON THE ROAD.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="s5 center mbot2">THE CHECK-STRING.</p>
-
-<p>T<span class="smaller">HOSE</span> who have travelled much, as inside passengers in a long
-stage-coach, whilst they admired the facility of starting off<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> with
-one, must have occasionally remarked the difficulty of stopping with
-it, just at the point where it would be convenient to be set down.
-An ailing man may not have voice enough to lock all the four wheels
-at once; and should he be, as is probable, a nervous man besides,
-he will not without some hesitation make up his mind to request of
-some stentorian neighbour the loan of a set of lungs. In a six-inside
-coach, the timid occupier of a middle seat has no chance whatever,
-unless to take advantage of the first casual halt, or an upset. Even
-in the four-inside vehicle, a weakly, shy traveller’s case is equally
-hopeless, supposing the passengers on the roof to have properly tucked
-up the skirts of their great and little coats. To a bold, brassy fellow
-even, with a tongue like a trumpet, it is anything but an easy affair
-to say woh! with any effect to a Dart that is flying at twelve miles
-within the hour. The coachman, who ought to hear, will not: the horses
-hear but do not understand: the coach cannot hear: the outsiders admire
-the pace too much to hear anything but the patter of the hoofs. At
-last, when he has succeeded, the stout gentleman with the big voice,
-who wants to run home, finds generally that he has a good hundred yards
-or two allowed him of law, measured, as the Irish always mete it out,
-<i>backwards</i>.</p>
-
-<p>It was after a more serious dilemma,&mdash;for a little nervous bashful
-man with a little squeaking voice like Punch’s, though he was not so
-fond of exhibiting it, after suffering himself to be carried two miles
-beyond his house, had at last fractured the small bone of his leg, by
-opening the door in despair and jumping out,&mdash;that a discussion ensued
-in the Brighton “Age” as to the best means of being let out to order.
-Many different methods had been proposed before the little florid plump
-gentleman in black delivered his opinion, with his back to the horses.</p>
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p>
-<p>“For my own part, ratiocinating on hackney-coaches, I should
-hypothetically propose check-strings.”</p>
-
-<p>“Lord forbid!” exclaimed a voice from the other seat, on the same side.
-Nobody remembered to have heard that voice before, from London to
-Crawley Common.</p>
-
-<p>The friend to check-strings seemed thunderstruck by the explosion. He
-screwed himself round to take a look at his neighbour&mdash;didn’t like him
-at all&mdash;turned back again&mdash;stole another look&mdash;liked him worse than
-before&mdash;then looked for the third time, and hated him. His seat became
-uneasy&mdash;he had found a choke-pear, very like a hedgehog, and very like
-a bull terrier, he could neither kill it nor let it alone. It clung to
-him like a burr which you pull off your hat that it may stick on your
-right-hand glove, thence to be transferred to the left-hand one, and
-so on alternately till you finally get rid of it on your pantaloons.
-The “Lord forbid,” like Macbeth’s “Amen,” stuck in his throat&mdash;it
-buzzed in his head like a fly in a horse’s ear. However, he held his
-uncomfortable peace till silence itself became insupportable. At last
-he broke out:</p>
-
-<p>“Humph! Doubtful as I am whether common coach conversation ought to
-be tied by strict rules of logic, still I cannot suppress the remark,
-that when one gentleman syllogistically brings forward a proposition
-of check-strings, for another gentleman to cry ‘Lord forbid,’ does
-not appear to my mind to be following a regular line of argument. But
-perhaps the forbidding gentleman will have the goodness to explain the
-colloquial anomaly.”</p>
-
-<p>The forbidding gentleman thus appealed to, good-humouredly apologised.
-It was a mere slip of the tongue, he said: the words escaped from him
-involuntarily; but his fellow-traveller would probably excuse him, in
-consideration of the fact, that on account of a check-string he had
-lost the only hope of affluence he ever had in his life.</p>
-
-<p>“Indeed, Sir! why then I excuse the colloquial irregularity with all my
-heart,” said the warm man, putting both his hands<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> into his pockets;
-“but, upon my life, Sir, it must have been a very extraordinary
-consequence.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_142" name="i_142">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_142.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">A CHINESE PUZZLE.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>“A very simple one, Sir,” returned the other.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> “The facts are briefly
-these: my maternal uncle had lately returned from India with an immense
-fortune, a handsome portion of which was my own in expectance, on no
-worse authority than his own promise. He was a widower with an only
-daughter, with whom, and himself, I one evening found myself in the
-carriage, on our way to a dinner-party given by a nobleman, then
-intimately connected with East Indian affairs. We were very late:
-and my uncle, the Nabob, who rode backward, was extremely fidgety,
-insisting that we were going beyond our destination. Every other minute
-he was thrusting his head out of the front window to dispute with the
-coachman, who in truth, was a little less sober, and more obstinate,
-than became him. And so we went onwards, till my uncle’s temper, always
-irritable, was worked up almost to combustion. In such moods he was
-rather apt to give vent to serio-comic ebullitions; and my ill-fortune
-has gifted me with risible muscles of exquisite sensibility. I was
-in the very midst of an ill-smothered laugh, when my fair cousin,
-giving me a sudden push, and then clasping her hands, exclaimed that
-we were going past the house. I instantly jumped up and made for the
-check-string, but with no more effect than if I had pulled at anything
-else. Gracious Heaven! I had better have pulled the string of a
-shower-bath, full of scalding hot water, to pour itself on my devoted
-head!&mdash;By that one infernal pull, Sir, I pulled myself out of half a
-plum!”</p>
-
-<p>“A sad pull, indeed, Sir!” said the florid plump man in black.
-“But&mdash;humph&mdash;begging your pardon, Sir, I cannot really derive any such
-deduction from the premises.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_143" name="i_143">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_143.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“A SPLIT WITH DUCROW.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>“A moment’s patience, Sir,” continued the unfortunate coach-stopper.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span>
-“Lord forbid check-strings,&mdash;Lord forbid all strings whatever! I was in
-despair, Sir. I could have sunk through the bottom of the carriage!&mdash;I
-believe I went down on my knees. I said everything I could think
-of&mdash;and begged fifty thousand pardons, but my uncle was obdurate. ‘Pray
-don’t mention it,’ he said, in his most caustic tone&mdash;‘it has saved me
-fifty thousand pounds. It’s a very good practical joke, although it
-will not read quite so well in my will.’”</p>
-
-<p>“But surely, Sir,” objected the plump man, “your uncle never acted on a
-conclusion, jumped to, as I may say, by such very imperfect inferences?”</p>
-
-<p>“You did not know my uncle, Sir,” answered the unfortunate kinsman,
-with a deep sigh. “But you shall judge of his character from the
-clause itself:&mdash;Item, I give and bequeath to my jocose nephew, Arthur
-Carruthers Oliphant, <i>for pulling his uncle’s pigtail</i>, the sum of one
-shilling, sterling.”</p>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_UNDYING_ONE">THE UNDYING ONE.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="s5 center mbot2">“He shall not die.”&mdash;<i>Uncle Toby.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7">I.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">O<span class="smaller">F</span> all the verses, grave or gay,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">That ever whiled an hour,</div>
-      <div class="verse">I never knew a mingled lay</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">At once so sweet and sour,</div>
-      <div class="verse">As that by Ladye Norton spun,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And christened “The Undying One.”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7">II.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">I’m very certain that she drew</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A portrait, when she penn’d</div>
-      <div class="verse">That picture of a perfect Jew,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Whose days will never end:</div>
-      <div class="verse">I’m sure it means my Uncle Lunn,</div>
-      <div class="verse">For he is an Undying One.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft7">III.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Those twenty years he’s been the same,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And may be twenty more;</div>
-      <div class="verse">But Memory’s Pleasures only claim</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">His features for a score;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Yet in that time the change is none&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">The image of th’ Undying One!</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_145" name="i_145">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_145.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">AN INN-QUEST.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7">IV.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">They say our climate’s damp and cold,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And lungs are tender things;</div>
-      <div class="verse">My uncle’s much abroad and old,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">But when “King Cole” he sings,</div>
-      <div class="verse">A Stentor’s voice, enough to stun,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Declares him an Undying One.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft7">V.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Others have died from needle-pricks,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And very slender blows;</div>
-      <div class="verse">From accidental slips or kicks,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Or bleedings at the nose;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or choked by grape-stone, or a bun&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">But he is the Undying One!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7">VI.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A soldier once, he once endur’d</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A bullet in the breast&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">It might have kill’d&mdash;but only cured</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">An asthma in the chest;</div>
-      <div class="verse">He was not to be slain with gun,</div>
-      <div class="verse">For he is the Undying One.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7">VII.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">In water once too long he dived,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And all supposed him beat,</div>
-      <div class="verse">He seem’d so cold&mdash;but he revived</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">To have another heat,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Just when we thought his race was run,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And came in fresh&mdash;th’ Undying One!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7">VIII.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">To look at Meux’s once he went,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And tumbled in the vat&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And greater Jobs their lives have spent</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">In lesser boils than that,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">He left the beer quite underdone,</div>
-      <div class="verse">No bier to the Undying One!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft7">IX.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">He’s been from strangulation black,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">From bile, of yellow hue,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Scarlet from fever’s hot attack,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">From cholera morbus blue;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Yet with these dyes&mdash;to use a pun&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">He still is the Undying One.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7">X.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">He rolls in wealth, yet has no wife</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">His three per Cents. to share;</div>
-      <div class="verse">He never married in his life,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Or flirted with the fair;</div>
-      <div class="verse">The sex he made a point to shun,</div>
-      <div class="verse">For beauty an Undying One.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7">XI.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">To judge him by the present signs,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The future by the past,</div>
-      <div class="verse">So quick he lives, so slow declines,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The Last Man won’t be last,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But buried underneath a ton</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of mould by the Undying One!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7">XII.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Next Friday week, his birth-day boast,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">His ninetieth year he spends,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And I shall have his health to toast</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Amongst expectant friends,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And wish&mdash;it really sounds like fun&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Long life to the Undying One!</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="A_GIPSY_PARTY">A GIPSY PARTY.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza-heading">
-      <div class="verse">“Come stain your cheeks with nut or berry,</div>
-      <div class="verse">&ensp;You’ll find a gipsy’s life is
-         merry.”&mdash;G<span class="smaller">IPSY</span> G<span class="smaller">LEE</span>.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p>I <span class="smaller">DO</span> not know what imp of mischief could have put such a fancy into
-the dreaming head of Mrs. Carnaby, except Puck&mdash;but on a fine morning
-in August she awoke with a determination to get up a gipsy party, and
-have a day’s pleasure “under the green-wood tree.” She opened her
-mind therefore to Mr. C&mdash;&mdash;, as soon as he had opened his eyes, and
-before breakfast they had arranged the whole affair. Hornsey Wood was
-stale, and Norwood was rejected, for the very paradoxical reason that
-it was such a haunt for Gipsies; and Mrs. Carnaby meant to take even
-her youngest children. After a good deal of debating, Hainault was the
-Forest fixed upon;&mdash;it lay so handy to Whitechapel, and the redletter
-day was marked to be the Wednesday in the following week, because then
-Master Carnaby would only lose half a day’s schooling.</p>
-
-<p>Accordingly, on the Wednesday, the Dryads of Wanstead were startled
-by the rumble of a well-laden tax-cart up that avenue which once led
-to a princely mansion; and the vehicle at last stopped, and set down
-its insides and outsides just where the lines of trees branch off into
-another verdant alley. “It was,” Mrs. Carnaby remarked, “a delicious
-green spot, and very handy to the Green Man for getting porter.” Mrs.
-C&mdash;&mdash; was assisted out of the cart; and then Miss C&mdash;&mdash; was lifted out
-by Mr. Hodges; and then the children were lifted out by the Mother; and
-then the nursemaid, an awkward plainlooking girl that nobody helped,
-tumbled out. In the mean time, Master C&mdash;&mdash; jumped out, all agog after
-blackberrying and birdnesting; and had swarmed half up a tree before
-his mother’s vigilance discovered, at a single glance, that he was
-tearing his trowsers,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> and had his best clothes on. This was a bad
-setting out for the boy; and the horse was not better, for directly
-he got out of harness, and felt himself free and at grass, after two
-or three preliminary kicks and plunges, it occurred to him to indulge
-in a roll, and so he rolled over a pigeon pie that was unfortunately
-unpacked, and finished by getting very much up with his fore-legs in
-a basket of ginger beer. But it was only a moment of enthusiasm; and,
-like other old nags, he betook himself to eating his green grass salad
-as gravely as a judge. None of the performers were fortunate in their
-debut. The first thing Mrs. Carnaby did in her hurry to save the pop,
-was to pop down one of the children on the basket of knives and forks;
-but it was a sharp child and soon got up again: and the first thing the
-other twin did was to trip over a stump, and fall, as Betty nursemaid
-said, “with its face in a fuz.” The first thing Mr. Hodges did, was
-to take Miss Carnaby round the waist and give her a smacking kiss; in
-return for which, as her first act, she gave him a playful push, that
-sent him, with his white ducks, into a muddy miniature pond, that had
-recently been stirred up by a cow in search of a cold bath. The first
-thing that Mr. C&mdash;&mdash; did was to recommend some brandy as a preventive
-against catching cold; but the last thing the brandy bottle had done
-had been to stay at home in the cupboard. Mr. Hodges, therefore, walked
-off to the Green Man for his health’s sake; and Master Carnaby sneaked
-off, nobody knew where, for the sake of blackberries;&mdash;while the
-Nursemaid, for the sake of society, took a romantic walk with the two
-twins, and a strange footman. Gipsies are a wandering race, and all the
-performers topped their parts; the very horse roamed away like a horse
-that had neither parish nor settlement: and Mr. Carnaby would have gone
-roaming after him, if his Wife and Daughter had not hung round his neck
-and made him swear not to leave ’em till the others returned, which was
-afterwards softened down to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> taking a little walk, provided he didn’t
-go out of sight and hearing. In the mean time Mrs. and Miss C&mdash;&mdash; laid
-the cloth, and began to review the eatables, not without lamenting over
-the smash of the pigeon pie; and when they came to plan their second
-course they found that the chief remove, a cold round of beef, had been
-pinned on the way down by a favourite bull-dog, that Master Carnaby had
-smuggled into the party. Luckily for the dog, he had also gone roving,
-with the whole forest before him, as naturally as if he had belonged to
-Bampfylde Moore Carew, the King of the Gipsies.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_150" name="i_150">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_150.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">COIL AND RECOIL.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_151" name="i_151">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_151.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">DEADLY NIGHTSHADE.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Mrs. Carnaby was one of those characters emphatically called fidgets;
-she never rested till each individual came back, and she never rested
-when they did. Mr. C. was the first to return, and not in the first
-of tempers. He had been done out of his long-anticipated rural walk
-by setting his foot, before he had gone a hundred yards, on a yard of
-snake, and it had frightened him so that Mrs. Carnaby expected “it
-would turn his whole mash of blood, and give him the yellow jaundice.”
-Mr. Hodges came in second, but to the impatient eye of Miss C.
-certainly did not proceed from the Green Man with the straightness of a
-bullet from a rifle. Master Carnaby was a good third, for he had been
-well horse-whipped, just as he had got three little red blackberries
-and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> five thorns in his fingers, by a gentleman who did not approve of
-his trespassing upon his grounds. Boxer the bull-dog was fourth; he
-came back on three-legs, with his brindle well peppered with number
-six by the gamekeeper, to cure him of worrying park rabbits. In fact,
-poor Boxer, as Mrs. C. exclaimed, “was bleeding like a pig,” and the
-grateful animal acknowledged her compassionate notice by going and
-rubbing his shot hide against her shot silk, in return for which he
-got a blow quite hard enough to shiver the stick of something between
-a parasol and an umbrella. As for the nurse-maid and the twins they
-did not return for an hour, to the infinite horror of the mother; but
-just as they were all sitting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> down to dinner Betsey appeared with her
-charge, walked off their feet, with their “pretty mouths all besmeared”
-with blue and red juice; but no one of the party was botanist enough
-to tell whether the berries they were munching were hips and haws, or
-bilberries, or deadly nightshade, but maternal anxiety made sure it
-was the “rank pison.” Accordingly dinner was postponed, and they set
-to get up an extempore fire to make the kettle hot, and as soon as the
-water was warm enough, these “two pretty babes” were well drenched,
-and were soon as perfectly uncomfortable as they had been two months
-before in a rough steam trip to Margate. As soon as peace was restored
-it transpired, from an examination of the children, and a very cross
-examination of the nurse-maid, that they had met with a <i>real</i> gipsy
-woman in the forest who had told Betty’s fortune, but had omitted to
-prognosticate that her mistress would give her warning on the spot, and
-that <i>her</i> gipsying would end, as it actually did, in finding herself
-suddenly out of place in the middle of a forest. Like other servants,
-when they lose a comfortable situation, “some natural tears she shed,”
-but did not wipe them soon, as did “our general mother,” for the very
-excellent reason that she had spread her pocket handkerchief on the
-ground to sit upon, somewhere between Wanstead and Walthamstow, and had
-left it as a waif to the lord of the manor.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_153" name="i_153">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_153.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">BACKING OUT OF GOING TO MARKET.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Dinner time then came again, to the especial delight of the two empty
-children, though, thanks to the horse and dog, it was principally
-broken victuals. But on sitting down and counting heads Master C. had
-a second time absconded during the last bustle; and, as his mother
-could not touch a morsel for anxiety, Mr. Carnaby was obliged to set
-out fasting to look for him, and had soon the satisfaction of finding
-him sitting hatless crying in a wet ditch, and scraping a suit of brown
-off a suit of blue with an old oyster shell. His father, in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> first
-transport of anger and hunger, gave him what boys call “a regular
-larruping,” then a good rubbing down with a bunch of fern, and then
-brought him back to the cold collation, with the comfortable threat
-that he should go without his dinner. As soon as the culprit could
-explain for sobbing, he told them that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> “he had gone for a little walk,
-like, and saw the most capital donkey with a saddle and bridle feeding
-wild about the forest as if he belonged to nobody, and he just got on
-him like, like they used to do at Margate; and then the donkey set off
-full tear, and never stopped till he came to a tent of gipsies in the
-middle of the wood; and they all set upon him, and swore at him like
-anything for running away with their donkey; and then all of a sudden
-he lost his hat and his handkerchief, and his money out of his pockets
-like conjuring; then they told him to run for his life, and so he did,
-and as for the mud it was all along of jumping over a hedge that had no
-other side to it.” This intelligence threw Mrs. Carnaby into an agony
-of horror which could only be pacified by their immediately packing up
-and removing, eatables and all, to a less lonesome place by the side
-of the road, an operation that was performed by their all pulling and
-pushing at the cart, as the horse had taken French leave of absence.</p>
-
-<p>It was now Miss Carnaby’s turn to be discomfited: her retiring
-disposition made her wince under the idea of dining in public; for
-being market day at Romford, they were over-looked by plenty of farmers
-and pig butchers: consequently, after a very miffy dialogue with her
-mother, the young lady took herself off, as she was desired, with “her
-romantical notions,” to a place of more solitude, and Mr. Hodges, as in
-gallantry bound, postponed his dinner till his tea to keep her company.
-In the mean time, Betsey, who had been sent up to the Green Man for
-the porter, returned with the empty tankard, and a terrified tale of
-being “cotch’d hold on by a ruffian in the wood, that had drunk up all
-the beer to all their very good healths.” The first impulse of Mr.
-Carnaby was to jump up to do justice on the vagabond, but Mrs. C&mdash;&mdash;
-had the presence of mind to catch hold of his coat-flaps so abruptly,
-that before he could well feel his legs, he found himself sitting in
-a large plum pie, which the children had just set their hearts upon;
-of course it did not mend his temper to hear the shout from a dozen
-ragged boys who were looking on; and in the crisis of his vexation,
-he vented such a fervent devil’s blessing on gipsy parties, and all
-that proposed them, that Mrs. Carnaby was obliged to take it up, and
-to tell him sharply, what in reality was true enough, that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> “if people
-did have gipsy parties, it didn’t follow that their stupid husbands
-was to sit down on plum pies.” Heaven knows to what size and shape
-this little quarrel might have ripened, but for the appearance of Miss
-Carnaby, who, with a terrified exclamation sat herself down, and after
-a vain attempt to recover, went off into a strong fit of what her
-mother called “kicking hysterics.” The cause was soon explained by the
-appearance of Mr. Hodges, with one eye poached black, and a dog-bite
-in the calf of his leg, because “he had only stood looking on at two
-men setting wires for rabbits, thinking to himself if he watched them
-well he could learn how to do it.” Fortunately, Miss Carnaby came to
-just in time to concur with her father and Mr. Hodges in the opinion,
-that the best thing they could all do was to pack up and go home, but
-which was stoutly combated by Mrs. Carnaby, who insisted that she
-was resolved to take tea in a wood for once in her life, and she was
-seconded by the children and Master C&mdash;&mdash;, who said they hadn’t had any
-pleasure yet. It was an unanswerable argument; sticks were collected,
-a fire was made, the kettle boiled, the tea-things were set in order,
-the bread and butter was cut, and pleasure began to smile on the gipsy
-party so placidly that Mr. Hodges was encouraged to begin playing “In
-my Cottage near a Wood,” on the key bugle, but was obliged to break
-off in the middle, on finding that it acted as a bugle call to a corps
-of observation, who came and stood round to see “Rural Felicity.”
-Mrs. Carnaby, however, was happy; but “there is many a slip between
-the tea-cup and the lip.” She was in the triumphant fact of pouring
-the hot water on her best souchong, in her best china tea-pot, when
-a very well-charged gun went off just on the other side of the park
-palings, and Mrs. Carnaby had not been born like her Grace, old Sarah
-of Marlborough, “before nerves came in fashion.” The tea-kettle dropped
-from her hand upon the tea-pot, which it dashed to atoms, and then lay
-on its side, hot watering the daisies and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> the dandelions that had the
-luck to grow near it. “Misfortunes never come single,” and the gun,
-therefore, acted like a double one in its inflictions; for no sooner
-did Boxer recognise its sound than he jumped up, and with an alarming
-howl dashed through the rest of the tea service, as if he had absorbed
-another ounce of number six: a fresh shout from the bystanders welcomed
-this new disaster, and with the true spirit of “biting a bitten cur,”
-they began to heap embarrassments on the disconcerted gipsyers. They
-kept pitching sticks into the fire till it grew a bonfire, and made
-cockshies of the remaining crockery; some audacious boys even helped
-themselves to bread and butter, as if on the principle that the open
-air ought to keep open house. As there were too many assailants to
-chastise, the only remedy was to pack up and take to the road as
-fast as they could, with a horse which they found with two broken
-knees, the consequence of his being too curious in the construction
-of a gravel-pit. “You may say what you like,” said Mr. Carnaby, in
-his summing up, “but for my part I must say of gipsying, that it’s
-impossible to take to it without being regularly ‘done brown.’”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_156" name="i_156">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_156.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">THE FORTUNE HUNTER.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="COCKLE_v_CACKLE">COCKLE <i>v.</i> CACKLE.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">T<span class="smaller">HOSE</span> who much read advertisements and bills,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Must have seen puffs of Cockle’s Pills,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Call’d Anti-bilious&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Which some Physicians sneer at, supercilious,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But which we are assured, if timely taken,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">May save your liver and bacon;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Whether or not they really give one ease,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">I, who have never tried,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Will not decide;</div>
-      <div class="verse">But no two things in union go like these&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Viz.&mdash;Quacks and Pills&mdash;save Ducks and Pease.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Now Mrs. W. was getting sallow,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Her lilies not of the white kind, but yellow,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And friends portended was preparing for</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">A human Pâté Périgord;</div>
-      <div class="verse">She was, indeed, so very far from well,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Her Son, in filial fear, procured a box</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of those said pellets to resist Bile’s shocks,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And&mdash;tho’ upon the ear it strangely knocks&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">To save her by a Cockle from a shell!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">But Mrs. W., just like Macbeth,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Who very vehemently bids us “throw</div>
-      <div class="verse">Bark to the Bow-wows,” hated physic so,</div>
-      <div class="verse">It seem’d to share “the bitterness of Death:”</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Rhubarb&mdash;Magnesia&mdash;Jalap, and the kind&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Senna&mdash;Steel&mdash;Assa-fœtida, and Squills&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Powder or Draught&mdash;but least her throat inclined</div>
-      <div class="verse">To give a course to Boluses or Pills:</div>
-      <div class="verse">No&mdash;not to save her life, in lung or lobe,</div>
-      <div class="verse">For all her lights or all her liver’s sake,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Would her convulsive thorax undertake,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Only one little uncelestial globe!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">’Tis not to wonder at, in such a case,</div>
-      <div class="verse">If she put by the pill-box in a place</div>
-      <div class="verse">For linen rather than for drugs intended&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Yet for the credit of the pills let’s say</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">After they thus were stow’d away,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Some of the linen mended;</div>
-      <div class="verse">But Mrs. W. by disease’s dint,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Kept getting still more yellow in her tint,</div>
-      <div class="verse">When lo! her second son, like elder brother,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Marking the hue on the parental gills,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Brought a new charge of Anti-tumeric Pills,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To bleach the jaundiced visage of his Mother&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Who took them&mdash;in her cupboard&mdash;like the other.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft2">“Deeper and deeper, still,” of course,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">The fatal colour daily grew in force;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Till daughter W. newly come from Rome,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Acting the self-same filial, pillial, part,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To cure Mamma, another dose brought home</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of Cockles;&mdash;not the Cockles of her heart!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">These going where the others went before,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Of course she had a very pretty store;</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">And then&mdash;some hue of health her cheek adorning,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">The Medicine so good must be,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">They brought her dose on dose, which she</div>
-      <div class="verse">Gave to the upstairs cupboard, “night and morning.”</div>
-      <div class="verse">Till wanting room at last, for other stocks,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Out of the window one fine day she pitch’d</div>
-      <div class="verse">The pillage of each box, and quite enrich’d</div>
-      <div class="verse">The feed of Mister Burrell’s hens and cocks,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">A little Barber of a by-gone day,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft6">Over the way</div>
-      <div class="verse">Whose stock in trade, to keep the least of shops,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Was one great head of Kemble,&mdash;that is, John,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Staring in plaster, with a <i>Brutus</i> on,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And twenty little Bantam fowls&mdash;with <i>crops</i>.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Little Dame W. thought when through the sash</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">She gave the physic wings,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">To find the very things</div>
-      <div class="verse">So good for bile, so bad for chicken rash,</div>
-      <div class="verse">For thoughtless cock, and unreflecting pullet!</div>
-      <div class="verse">But while they gathered up the nauseous nubbles,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Each peck’d itself into a peck of troubles,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And brought the hand of Death upon its gullet.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">They might as well have addled been, or ratted,</div>
-      <div class="verse">For long before the night&mdash;ah woe betide</div>
-      <div class="verse">The Pills! each suicidal Bantam died</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft7">Unfatted!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Think of poor Burrell’s shock,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of Nature’s debt to see his hens all payers,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And laid in death as Everlasting Layers,</div>
-      <div class="verse">With Bantam’s small Ex-Emperor, the Cock,</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">In ruffled plumage and funereal hackle,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Giving, undone by Cockle, a last Cackle!</div>
-      <div class="verse">To see as stiff as stone, his unlive stock,</div>
-      <div class="verse">It really was enough to move his block.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Down on the floor he dash’d, with horror big,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Mr. Bell’s third wife’s mother’s coachman’s wig;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And with a tragic stare like his own Kemble,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Burst out with natural emphasis enough,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">And voice that grief made tremble,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Into that very speech of sad Macduff&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">“What!&mdash;all my pretty chickens and their dam,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">At one fell swoop!&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Just when I’d bought a coop</div>
-      <div class="verse">To see the poor lamented creatures cram!”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft2">After a little of this mood,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">And brooding over the departed brood,</div>
-      <div class="verse">With razor he began to ope each craw,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Already turning black, as black as coals;</div>
-      <div class="verse">When lo! the undigested cause he saw&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">“Pison’d by goles!”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">To Mrs. W.’s luck a contradiction,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Her window still stood open to conviction;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And by short course of circumstantial labour,</div>
-      <div class="verse">He fix’d the guilt upon his adverse neighbour;&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Lord! how he rail’d at her: declaring now,</div>
-      <div class="verse">He’d bring an action ere next Term of Hilary,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Then, in another moment, swore a vow,</div>
-      <div class="verse">He’d make her do pill-penance in the pillory!</div>
-      <div class="verse">She, meanwhile distant from the dimmest dream</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of combating with guilt, yard-arm or arm-yard,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Lapp’d in a paradise of tea and cream;</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">When up ran Betty with a dismal scream&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">“Here’s Mr. Burrell, Ma’am, with all his farm-yard!”</div>
-      <div class="verse">Straight in he came, unbowing and unbending,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">With all the warmth that iron and a barber</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft6">Can harbour;</div>
-      <div class="verse">To dress the head and front of her offending,</div>
-      <div class="verse">The fuming phial of his wrath uncorking;</div>
-      <div class="verse">In short, he made her pay him altogether,</div>
-      <div class="verse">In hard cash, very <i>hard</i>, for ev’ry feather,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Charging of course, each Bantam as a Dorking;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Nothing could move him, nothing make him supple,</div>
-      <div class="verse">So the sad dame unpocketing her loss,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Had nothing left but to sit hands across,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And see her poultry, “going down ten couple.”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_161" name="i_161">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_161.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">HALFPENNY HATCH.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Now birds by poison slain,</div>
-      <div class="verse">As venom’d dart from Indian’s hollow cane,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Are edible; and Mrs. W.’s thrift,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">She had a thrifty vein,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Destined one pair for supper to make shift,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Supper as usual at the hour of ten:</div>
-      <div class="verse">But ten o’clock arrived and quickly pass’d,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Eleven&mdash;twelve&mdash;and one o’clock at last,</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Without a sign of supper even then!</div>
-      <div class="verse">At length, the speed of cookery to quicken,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Betty was called, and with reluctant feet,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Came up at a white heat&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">“Well, never I see chicken like them chicken!</div>
-      <div class="verse">My saucepans, they have been a pretty while in ’em!</div>
-      <div class="verse">Enough to stew them, if it comes to that,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To flesh and bones, and perfect rags; but drat</div>
-      <div class="verse">Those Anti-biting Pills! there is no bile in ’em!”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="A_LAWYERS_LETTER">A LAWYER’S LETTER.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="center mbot1"><i>To Mr. Richard Walton, 32, Lincoln’s Inn.</i></p>
-
-<p>D<span class="smaller">EAR</span> D<span class="smaller">ICK</span>,</p>
-
-<p class="p1">I<span class="smaller">N</span> re Pedro&mdash;Pike, Row, Badgery, and Crump, Mr. Theodore Hook’s
-attorneys, offered three years ago, and continued the allowance
-up to last Easter Term, to give me, with unexampled liberality,
-eighteen shillings per week as copying clerk, and to undertake the
-management of the Common Law&mdash;attend to the Chancery Department&mdash;do the
-out-door business&mdash;make out Bills of Costs&mdash;and make myself generally
-useful&mdash;which I have been doing as long as my health permitted. Not
-being strong, though with an attachment to the profession, I have been
-compelled to withdraw my record, and to sue out a Writ of Certiorari to
-carry my line of life into another court. Hearing that Don Pedro was
-about to bring an action against Don Miguel and Company, and that lots
-of John Does and Richard Roes were wanted, I took a retainer from an
-agent of the great Portuguese professional gentleman, and have really
-embarked in the cause. Being out here on the circuit, as one might call
-it (Mr. Chief Justice Sartorius goes it), and knowing the interest you
-take in my verdicts, I shall write at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> intervals the particulars of
-plaintiff’s demand, and account of set-off on the part of the enemy’s
-fleet, or Defendant. Pray call on Mr. Wilson, the Common Law Clerk at
-Pike, Row, and Co., and tell him I have four hours to myself and a
-chance of being paid, but do this if possible without the knowledge of
-the Principals. White of the same office, when I enlisted, was to have
-taken the benefit of the act, but on mustering at Gravesend, he did not
-attend the roll call, and was struck off the Rolls. I can’t but say,
-putting Truth on her oath in the Admiralty Court, that when the Blue
-Peter gave legal notice to quit, I felt some regret at leaving a land
-where I might have been, so to speak, a tenant at will. Nor was it much
-better when I came to the Nore. I heartily wished, with Mr. Matthews,
-that if Britannia does rule the waves, she would rule them evener! but
-it was “rule refused.” The sea ran very rough, and you will understand
-me when I say I took nothing by my motion. There was the thought of my
-mother, besides, and the numberless feelings for which, though matters
-of everyday practice, it is difficult to show cause.</p>
-
-<p>You remember Sugden with Hart &amp; Co., and will not be surprised to hear
-that he volunteered to convince Don Miguel of his defective title.
-A few hours, however, sufficed to disgust him with conveyancing, as
-it is practised in the Marine Courts; and I heard him, by a verbal
-instrument, assign over with technical formality, the whole ship to the
-Devil, his Heirs, Executors, Administrators, and Assigns.</p>
-
-<p>As for Butterworth, the Captain gave instructions with regard to the
-stays, and Butterworth in going aloft fell overboard. We thought for
-some time that he was dead, but after rubbing, and other means of
-revival, we had the satisfaction of seeing him moving for a new trial,
-and that he was beginning <i>de novo</i>.</p>
-
-<p class="mbot1">You may conceive, professionally, our joy at entering the Douro with
-a prospect of being invited within the Bar,&mdash;but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> the anchors were
-instructed to stay proceedings, and we stayed the same. As I took notes
-of what happened afterwards, I will give you a rough draft.</p>
-
-<p class="hang1_5"><i>Michaelmas Term, Oct. 31.</i> Admiral took Counsel’s opinion with
-regard to the Fort of St. Michael. Held that an action would lie.
-Judgment affirmed.</p>
-
-<p class="hang1_5"><i>Nov. 2.</i> Action of assault and battery. Admiral’s ship opened the
-case, and the others followed on the same side. Hills crowded with
-witnesses. Enemy’s damages laid at a hundred and fifty men. Tax off
-a hundred.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_164" name="i_164">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_164.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">DRAKE DISPERSING THE ARMADA.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p class="hang1_5">3. Discovering flaws and amending same. At intervals term reports.
-Pollock died of his wounds, and was struck off the paper. Gave him
-an undertaking.</p>
-
-<p class="hang1_5">4. <i>A dies non.</i> Poor Horne seized with lockjaw, and preparing for
-the long vacation.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p>
-
-<p class="hang1_5">5. Notice of action. Enemy’s Fleet put in an appearance, but <i>non
-pros</i>. Horne demised.</p>
-
-<p class="hang1_5">6. Joined issue with enemy’s flag ship. Wetherell killed by a ball
-lodging in the Inner Temple, and Denman subpœnaed by a bullet out
-of the main-top. Enemy attempted to put an officer and fifty men in
-possession&mdash;but we served them with an ejectment. Night coming on,
-agreed to withdraw a juror.</p>
-
-<p class="hang1_5">7. A violent storm, and a sail under a distress. Taken in execution
-by a wave,&mdash;levied on longboat and three men, and all the hen-coops.</p>
-
-<p class="hang1_5">8. Fell in with a Portuguese brig, and lodged a detainer. Have not
-received my share of prize, but have got a cognovit.</p>
-
-<p class="hang1_5">9. Enemy moved for a new trial. Bore up and fired a broadside;
-replied to same. Admiral endeavoured, by intercepting the rear-most
-ships, to cut off the entail. Boarding again,&mdash;obliged to fight
-with all my Power of Attorney. Gave quarter to one man, he was such
-a special pleader. Verdict&mdash;drawn battle.</p>
-
-<p class="hang1_5">10. Chitty fell overboard from the mizen chains. Action of trover
-failed. Filed a bill of him in Ocean’s Chancery, and sent an office
-copy to his Widow.</p>
-
-<p class="hang1_5">11. Enemy brought a fresh action. Boarding again, and obliged to
-defend in person. Enemy nonsuited with costs.</p>
-
-<p class="mtop1">To abbreviate pleadings, you will see that our time has been Term time.
-Plenty of work at overhours, and I am sorry to say no extra charge. But
-I am not going to take a bill of exceptions. I comfort myself for the
-loss of my arm&mdash;I have lost that limb of the law, Dick&mdash;by reflecting
-that I am now like Nelson, except the blind eye, and that I do not
-follow the Hamiltonian system. Sometimes, however, as I look homeward,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span>
-and remember “dear Morton,” I sigh to join you by a <i>Surrey-joinder</i>,
-and to taste your <i>Surrey-butter</i>. I think that is the legal mode of
-expressing it.</p>
-
-<p>Nothing can behave better than our men&mdash;from the principals down to the
-juniors. They fight as if they belonged to Lyon’s Inn. However, a good
-many have been ticked off,&mdash;including Tyndale, Thessiger, Phillips,
-Spankie, Scarlett, Gurney, Wilde, Burney, and some others of our
-acquaintance, who have received a general release. For my own part&mdash;&mdash;</p>
-
-<p class="center mtop1">[LETTER ENCLOSING THE ABOVE.]</p>
-
-<div class="correspondence">
-
-<p>S<span class="smaller">IR</span>.</p>
-
-<p>Am sorry to Say the man as writ the Inclosed letter, with a bit of
-a log, fell Down the Main Hatchway on the 16th instant at 2 P. M.
-Was carried down to Cockpit. But the Doctor pronounced it a Bad
-Job, and after saying O Law three times was a Corps. He left no
-Will nor no property, and was Sowed up and heaved overboard, same
-day in lat. 41, 5 N., long. 8, 50 W.</p>
-
-<p>I take the Liberty of writing This that you may inform Parents,
-provided there’s father or mother, as well as to his widow and
-children, if so be. Should you be encouraged to come out to us in
-your friend’s Place, you will be heartily welcome, and lots of as
-jolly good fighting as hearts can wish. So no more at present from</p>
-
-<p class="right mright1"><span class="mright2">Your Humble Servant</span><br />
-T<span class="smaller">HOMAS</span> B<span class="smaller">ENYON</span>.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p>N.B. Go to the Duncan’s Head in Wapping, and Captain Bligh will
-tell you all about the Bounty. That’s if you mean to ’list.</p>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_167" name="i_167">
-   <img class="mtop3" src="images/i_167.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“I HAVE A SILENT SORROW HERE.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<h2 class="nopad" id="THE_SWEEPS_COMPLAINT">THE SWEEP’S COMPLAINT.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="s5">“I like to meet a sweep&mdash;such as come forth with the dawn,
-or somewhat earlier, with their little professional notes, sounding like the
-peep, peep, of a young sparrow.”&mdash;E<span class="smaller">SSAYS OF</span>
-E<span class="smaller">LIA</span>.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza-heading">
-      <div class="verse">&mdash;&mdash;“A voice cried Sweep no more!</div>
-      <div class="verse">Macbeth hath murdered sweep.”&mdash;S<span class="smaller">HAKSPEARE</span>.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">O<span class="smaller">NE</span> morning ere my usual time</div>
-      <div class="verse">I rose, about the seventh chime,</div>
-      <div class="verse">When little stunted boys that climb</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Still linger in the street:</div>
-      <div class="verse">And as I walked, I saw indeed</div>
-      <div class="verse">A sample of the sooty breed,</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Though he was rather run to seed,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">In height above five feet.</div>
-      <div class="verse">A mongrel tint he seem’d to take,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Poetic simile to make,</div>
-      <div class="verse">D<span class="smaller">AY</span> through his M<span class="smaller">ARTIN</span> ’gan to break,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">White overcoming jet.</div>
-      <div class="verse">From side to side he cross’d oblique,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Like Frenchman who has friends to seek,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And yet no English word can speak,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">He walk’d upon the fret:</div>
-      <div class="verse">And while he sought the dingy job,</div>
-      <div class="verse">His lab’ring breast appear’d to throb</div>
-      <div class="verse">And half a hiccup half a sob</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Betray’d internal woe.</div>
-      <div class="verse">To cry the cry he had by rote</div>
-      <div class="verse">He yearn’d, but law forbade the note,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Like Chanticleer with roupy throat,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">He gaped&mdash;but not a crow!</div>
-      <div class="verse">I watch’d him, and the glimpse I snatch’d</div>
-      <div class="verse">Disclosed his sorry eyelids patch’d</div>
-      <div class="verse">With red, as if the soot had catch’d</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">That hung about the lid;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And soon I saw the tear-drop stray,</div>
-      <div class="verse">He did not care to brush away;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Thought I the cause he will betray&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And thus at last he did.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_170" name="i_170">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_170.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">A WIND-FALL.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="narrow">
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Well, here’s a pretty go! here’s a Gagging Act, if ever there was a gagging!</div>
-      <div class="verse">But I’m bound the members as silenced us, in doing it had plenty of magging.</div>
-      <div class="verse">They had better send us all off, they had, to the School for the Deaf and Dumb,</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>      <div class="verse">To unlarn us our mother tongues, and to make signs and be regularly mum.</div>
-      <div class="verse">But they can’t undo natur&mdash;as sure as ever the morning begins to peep,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Directly I open my eyes, I can’t help calling out Sweep</div>
-      <div class="verse">As natural as the sparrows among the chimbley-pots that say Cheep!</div>
-      <div class="verse">For my own part I find my suppress’d voice very uneasy,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And comparable to nothing but having your tissue stopt when you are sneezy.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Well, it’s all up with us! tho’ I suppose we mustn’t cry all up.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Here’s a precious merry Christmas, I’m blest if I can earn either bit or sup!</div>
-      <div class="verse">If crying Sweep, of mornings, is going beyond quietness’s border,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Them as pretends to be fond of silence oughtn’t to cry hear, hear, and order, order.</div>
-      <div class="verse">I wonder Mr. Sutton, as we’ve sut-on too, don’t sympathise with us</div>
-      <div class="verse">As a Speaker what don’t speak, and that’s exactly our own cus.</div>
-      <div class="verse">God help us if we don’t not cry, how are we to pursue our callings?</div>
-      <div class="verse">I’m sure we’re not half so bad as other businesses with their bawlings.</div>
-      <div class="verse">For instance, the general postmen, that at six o’clock go about ringing,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And wake up all the babbies that their mothers have just got to sleep with singing.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Greens oughtn’t to be cried no more than blacks&mdash;to do the unpartial job,</div>
-      <div class="verse">If they bring in a Sooty Bill, they ought to have brought in a Dusty Bob.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Is a dustman’s voice more sweet than ourn, when he comes a seeking arter the cinders,</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span>      <div class="verse">Instead of a little boy like a blackbird in spring, singing merrily under your windows?</div>
-      <div class="verse">There’s the omnibus cads as plies in Cheapside, and keeps calling out Bank and City;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Let his Worship, the Mayor, decide if our call of Sweep is not just as pretty.</div>
-      <div class="verse">I can’t see why the Jews should be let go about crying Old Close thro their hooky noses,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And Christian laws should be ten times more hard than the old stone laws of Moses.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Why isn’t the mouths of the muffin-men compell’d to be equally shut?</div>
-      <div class="verse">Why, because Parliament members eat muffins, but they never eat no sut.</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span>      <div class="verse">Next year there won’t be any May-day at all, we shan’t have no heart to dance,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And Jack in the Green will go in black like mourning for our mischance;</div>
-      <div class="verse">If we live as long as May, that’s to say, through the hard winter and pinching weather,</div>
-      <div class="verse">For I don’t see how we’re to earn enough to keep body and soul together.</div>
-      <div class="verse">I only wish Mr. Wilberforce or some of them that pities the niggers,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Would take a peep down in our cellars, and look at our miserable starving figures,</div>
-      <div class="verse">A-sitting idle on our empty sacks, and all ready to eat each other,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And a brood of little ones crying for bread to a heart-breaking Father and Mother.</div>
-      <div class="verse">They haven’t a rag of clothes to mend, if their mothers had thread and needles,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But crawl naked about the cellars, poor things, like a swarm of common black beadles.</div>
-      <div class="verse">If they’d only inquired before passing the Act and taken a few such peeps,</div>
-      <div class="verse">I don’t think that any real gentleman would have set his face against sweeps.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Climbin’s an ancient respectable art, and if History’s of any vally,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Was recommended by Queen Elizabeth to the great Sir Walter Raleigh,</div>
-      <div class="verse">When he wrote on a pane of glass how I’d climb, if the way I only knew,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And she writ beneath, if your heart’s afeard, don’t venture up the flue.</div>
-      <div class="verse">As for me I was always loyal, and respected all powers that are higher,</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span>      <div class="verse">But how can I now say God save the King, if I an’t to be a Cryer?</div>
-      <div class="verse">There’s London milk, that’s one of the cries, even on Sunday the law allows,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But ought black sweeps, that are human beasts, to be worser off than black cows?</div>
-      <div class="verse">Do <i>we</i> go calling about, when it’s church time, like the noisy Billingsgate vermin,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And disturb the parson with “All alive O!” in the middle of a funeral sermon?</div>
-      <div class="verse">But the fish won’t keep, not the mackarel won’t, is the cry of the Parliament elves,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Every thing, except the sweeps I think, is to be allowed to keep themselves!</div>
-      <div class="verse">Lord help us! what’s to become of us if we mustn’t cry no more?</div>
-      <div class="verse">We shan’t do for black mutes to go a standing at a death’s door.</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span>      <div class="verse">And we shan’t do to emigrate, no not even to the Hottentot nations,</div>
-      <div class="verse">For as time wears on, our black will wear off, and then think of our situations!</div>
-      <div class="verse">And we should not do, in lieu of black-a-moor footmen, to serve ladies of quality nimbly,</div>
-      <div class="verse">For when we we’re drest in our sky-blue and silver, and large frills, all clean and neat, and white silk stockings, if they pleased to desire us to sweep the hearth, we couldn’t resist the chimbley.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_172" name="i_172">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_172.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">A REVERSE IN BUSINESS.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="LETTER_FROM_AN_OLD_SPORTSMAN">LETTER FROM AN OLD
-SPORTSMAN.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="mbot1">D<span class="smaller">EAR</span> S<span class="smaller">IR</span>,</p>
-
-<p class="p1">I <span class="smaller">RECEAVED</span> your’s of the first last, wich I should have anser’d it
-sooner, only I have ad the Roomatiz in my fingers, so you must Pleas to
-excus my crampd hand.</p>
-
-<p>As to my Sporting Reminis-cences, as you are pleasd to say, I have
-look’d them out in the dixenary, and kno verry well what it is. I beg
-leaf to Say, I have forgot all my recolections, and can not bring to
-mind any of my old Rememberances.</p>
-
-<p>As for Hunting, I shall never take a fence at it agen, altho I sumtims
-Ride to cover on the old Gray, wich is now be come quite Wite. The last
-tim I went out, we dru Hazelmere copses down to Broxley wood; then
-we dru Broxley wood over to Fox thorp; then we dru Fox thorp over to
-Middle ford, and then we dru Middle ford, in short, it was all drawing
-and no painting for want of a brush.</p>
-
-<p>Sir William Chase coming to be his father’s hare, he set up a coarsing
-club, but being short of long dogs, and there hairs falling of, it was
-obleged to discourse, and is now turned into a conversasiony.</p>
-
-<p>In regard to shuting, I have never dun anny thing Since per<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span>cussion
-Captiousness cum up, wich I am Told they are sharper then Flints. The
-last hare I kild was 2 long ears ago, and the Last fezzant, But there’s
-a long tail belonging to that, wich you shall have when you cum over,
-as I hop you wil, with your Horse’s; I have good entertainment for
-boath, as the french Say, at my table D’ oats. The lads go out after
-Burds now and then, but I seldum cum at the rites of there shuting&mdash;you
-kno</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Wat is Hits is Histery,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But what is mist is mistery.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_174" name="i_174">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_174.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">WHICH WAY DID THE FOX GO?</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Talking of shuting, hav you seen Ubbard’s new guns like wauking
-sticks&mdash;there a cappital defence agin cappital offences; as you may
-ether stick a feller or Shute him; or boath together. I wish farmer
-Gale had carrid one last friday, for he was Rob’d cuming from markit by
-a foot paddy Irish man, that knockd him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> down to make him Stand. Luckly
-he had nothing on him when Stopd but sum notes of the Barnsby bank that
-had bin stopd the weak afore.</p>
-
-<p>In the fishing line I am quite Dead bait, tho I have had manny a Good
-run in my tim, Partickler when the keeper spide me out were I hadent
-got Leaf. The last tim I went I could hardly un do my rod for roomatiz
-in my joints, and I got the Lumbago verry bad wen I cum back, and its
-atax I doant like. Beside wich I found very Little big fish on a count
-of the pochers, who Kil em al in colde blood. I used sumtims to float
-and sumtims to fli, but our waters is so over fished theres no fish to
-be had, and as I am very musicle, I dont like trolling without a catch,
-the last jack I caut was with my boot, and was only a foot long.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_175" name="i_175">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_175.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">FLY FISHING.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>As for raceing, I never cared much a bout it, and in regard of betting,
-I am Better with out it, tho I al ways take the feeld wen I am Able,
-and suport the Farmer’s Plate with al my Mite.</p>
-
-<p>Our Wist club is going of, Some of the members go on so; two of em are
-perpetuly quareling like anny thing but double dummies, for one plays
-like Hoyle and the other like Vinegar.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> The young men hav interduced
-Shorts, but I doant think theyle Last long. They are al so verry Sharp
-at the Pints, and as for drinking, I never se sich Liquorish Chaps in
-my life. They are al ways laying ods, even at Super, when theyle Bet
-about the age of a Roosted foul, with they cal Chicken hazzard, or
-about the Wait of a Curran py, with they cal the Currancy question.
-They al so smoke a grate manny seagars, but they cant Put the old men’s
-pips out, wich it Wood be a Burning shame if they did. I am sorry to
-say politicks has Crept in; Sum is al for reform, and some is al for
-none at al, and the only thing they agre in is, that the Land lord
-shant bring in no Bil. There is be sides grate dis-cushins as to the
-new game laws, sum entertaning douts wen sum peple go out a shuting,
-wether even acts of Parliament will inable them to shute anny game.</p>
-
-<p>The crickit Club is going on uncomon wel. They are 36 members with out
-rekoning the byes; our best man at Wickit is Captin Batty&mdash;he often
-gets four notches running; and our best boler is Use Ball, tho we
-sumtims get Dr. Pilby to bolus. As for the crickit Bal, it is quit wore
-out, wich the gals say they are verry Sory for it, as they took a grate
-intrest in our matches.</p>
-
-<p>My lads are boath of em marred, wich mayhap you have Herd,&mdash;and if
-the gals are not, I Believe its no falt of theres. They hope youle
-cum to the Wake, wich is next Sunday weak, for they Say there will be
-High fun, al tho I think it is Rather Low. The only use of waking that
-I can See, is to pervent folkes Sleeping, and as for there jumping
-and throwing up their Heals, I see no Pleasur in it. If they had the
-Roomatiz as Bad as I have, they woudent be for Dancing there fandangoes
-at that rat, and Kicking for partners.</p>
-
-<p>Our county Member, Sir William Wiseacre, is going to bring in a bil
-“for the supression of the Barbarus past-time of bul beating, and for
-the better incorigement of the nobul art of Cockin,” by wich al buls,
-wether inglish or irish, are to be Made<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> game of no longer, and al such
-as are found at anny ring or stake are libel to be find. They cal it
-here the Cock and Bul Act, wich I think is a very good name. It has
-causd grate diversion in manny peple’s opinions, but most of us Think
-the cocks is quite as Bad as the buls. The same Barrownet as tried to
-interduce Forkenry, but the first atempts as been verry Hawkward. The
-forkens flu at a herin, who tried to be above there atax, for the more
-they pecked him the more they maid him sore, but a boy flying a Kite
-skared em al away togither.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_177" name="i_177">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_177.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">WHERE’S YOUR HAWKER’S LICENSE?</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Last week was our grand archery Meetin, and the first prize was won by
-Little Master Tomkins, of grove House. I supose his fondnes for lolli
-pops made him ame best at bulls Eyes. The Miss Courtenays were there
-as usul, and in comparison of arch Angles look ralyarcher.&mdash;The wags
-propposed miss Emilyshood<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> have the second prize for shuting in too a
-cows Eye that came to nere the target; she says she wos so nervus, it
-put her arrow into a quiver. In the middle of the meeting we herd a Bad
-playd Key buggle, and out of the shrubbery, were they had bin hiding,
-Jumpd Revd. Mister Crumpe and assistants; he is Rector of Bow and Curat
-of Harrow, and was disgised in every thing green, as Robin Hood and
-his mery Men; after geting Little John to string his bow for him, I am
-sorry to say, Robin Hood shot Worst of every Body, for he did not even
-hit the target, and we should have never Seen wear his arrow went, but
-by hereing it smash in to the conservatorry. When we came to look for
-the prize, a silver Arrow, every Body had lost it, for it had dropt
-out of the case, and would never have been found, but for Revd. mister
-Crumpe sittin downe on the lawne, and wich made Him jump up agen, as
-miss Courtenay said out of Byron, like “a warrior bounding from its
-Barb.” The Toxophilus Club is very flurrishing, but talk of expeling
-sum members for persisting in wereing peagreen insted of lincon, and
-puttin on there spanish Hats and fethers the rong side before.</p>
-
-<p>Thank you for the Hoisters, wich was verry good. Mary has took the
-shels to make her a groto, of wich I think is very shameful, as I
-wanted them to Friten the Burds. Old Mark Lane, the man as Cheated you
-out of them oats, has bean sent to jail for Stealing barly. I am sadly
-Afearde old Marks corn will give Him 14 ears of Bottany.</p>
-
-<p>Pleas to Remember me to al inquiring friends, if they should think it
-woth wile to Ask after me.</p>
-
-<p class="right mright2 mbot1">From your Humbel servant,<br />
-
-<span class="mright2">A<span class="smaller">NDREW</span>
-A<span class="smaller">XELTREE</span></span>.</p>
-
-<p>P.S. I forgot to menshun the subskripshon Stag hounds kep by the same
-members as the wist club, and its there wim to have fifty too dogs
-to the pack. If old Bil, the huntsman, was drest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> like Pam, theyd be
-complet. They have had sum cappital runs dooring the season. As you
-write for the sporting Maggazins, you may like to notice an apereance
-rather noo in the felde, I mean the Grate Creol Curnel Brown, who is
-very pompus, and hunts with Pompey, his black servant, after him. I
-have got a Deal more to Say, but carnt for want of Room. Mary says I
-should Cros it, wich I wood, but I doant Wish to put you to the expense
-of a Dubble leter.</p>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_SUB-MARINE">THE SUB-MARINE.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">I<span class="smaller">T</span> was a brave and jolly wight,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">His cheek was baked and brown,</div>
-      <div class="verse">For he had been in many climes</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">With captains of renown,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And fought with those who fought so well</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">At Nile and Camperdown.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">His coat it was a soldier coat,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Of red with yellow faced,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But (merman-like) he look’d marine</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">All downward from the waist;</div>
-      <div class="verse">His trousers were so wide and blue,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And quite in sailor taste!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">He put the rummer to his lips,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And drank a jolly draught;</div>
-      <div class="verse">He raised the rummer many times&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And ever as he quaff’d,</div>
-      <div class="verse">The more he drank the more the ship</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Seem’d pitching fore and aft!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">The ship seemed pitching fore and aft,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">As in a heavy squall;</div>
-      <div class="verse">It gave a lurch and down he went,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Head-foremost in his fall!</div>
-      <div class="verse">Three times he did not rise, alas!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">He never rose at all!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">But down he went right down at once,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Like any stone he dived,</div>
-      <div class="verse">He could not see, or hear, or feel&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Of senses all deprived!</div>
-      <div class="verse">At last he gave a look around</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">To see where he arrived!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">And all that he could see was green,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Sea-green on every hand!</div>
-      <div class="verse">And then he tried to sound beneath,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And all he felt was sand!</div>
-      <div class="verse">There he was fain to lie, for he</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Could neither sit nor stand!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">And lo! above his head there bent</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A strange and staring lass;</div>
-      <div class="verse">One hand was in her yellow hair,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The other held a glass;</div>
-      <div class="verse">A mermaid she must surely be</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">If ever mermaid was!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Her fish-like mouth was opened wide,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Her eyes were blue and pale,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Her dress was of the ocean green,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">When ruffled by a gale;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Thought he “beneath that petticoat</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">She hides a salmon-tail!”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">She look’d as siren ought to look,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A sharp and bitter shrew,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To sing deceiving lullabies</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">For mariners to rue,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">But when he saw her lips apart,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">It chill’d him through and through!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">With either hand he stopp’d his ears</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Against her evil cry;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Alas, alas, for all his care,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">His doom it seem’d to die,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Her voice went ringing through his head</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">It was so sharp and high!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">He thrust his fingers farther in</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">At each unwilling ear,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But still in very spite of all</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The words were plain and clear;</div>
-      <div class="verse">“I can’t stand here the whole day long,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To hold your glass of beer!”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">With open’d mouth and open’d eyes,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Up rose the sub-marine,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And gave a stare to find the sands</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And deeps where he had been:</div>
-      <div class="verse">There was no siren with her glass!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">No waters ocean-green!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">The wet deception from his eyes</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Kept fading more and more,</div>
-      <div class="verse">He only saw the bar-maid stand</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">With pouting lip before&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">The small green parlour of the Ship,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And little sanded floor.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_182" name="i_182">
-   <img class="mtop3" src="images/i_182.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption">BOARDING-SCHOOL.</p>
-</div>
-
-<h2 class="nopad" id="THE_ISLAND">THE ISLAND.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="s5 center mbot2">“Oh had I some sweet little Isle of my
-own!”&mdash;M<span class="smaller">OORE</span>.</p>
-
-<p>I<span class="smaller">F</span> the author of the Irish Melodies had ever had a little Isle so much
-his own as I have possessed, he might not have found it so sweet as the
-song anticipates. It has been my fortune, like Robinson Crusoe, and
-Alexander Selkirk, to be thrown on such a desolate spot, and I felt so
-lonely, though I had a follower, that I wish Moore had been there. I
-had the honour of being in that tremendous action off Finisterre, which
-proved an end of the earth to many a brave fellow. I was ordered with
-a boarding party to forcibly enter the Santissima Trinidada, but in
-the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> act of climbing into the quarter-gallery, which, however, gave no
-quarter, was rebutted by the butt-end of a marine’s gun, who remained
-the quarter-master of the place. I fell senseless into the sea, and
-should no doubt have perished in the waters of oblivion, but for the
-kindness of John Monday, who picked me up to go adrift with him in one
-of the ship’s boats. All our oars were carried away, that is to say we
-did not carry away any oars, and while shot was raining, our feeble
-hailing was unheeded. In short, as Shakspeare says, we were drifting
-off by “the current of a heady fight.” As may be supposed, our boat was
-anything but the jolly-boat, for we had no provisions to spare in the
-middle of an immense waste. We were, in fact, adrift in the cutter with
-nothing to cut. We had not even junk for junketing, and nothing but
-salt-water, even if the wind should blow fresh. Famine indeed seemed to
-stare each of us<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> in the ace; that is we stared at one another; but if
-men turn cannibals, a great allowance must be made for a short ditto.
-We were truly in a very disagreeable pickle, with oceans of brine and
-no beef, and, like Shylock, I fancy we would have exchanged a pound of
-gold for a pound of flesh. The more we drifted Nor, the more sharply we
-inclined to gnaw,&mdash;but when we drifted Sow, we found nothing like pork.
-No bread rose in the east, and in the opposite point we were equally
-disappointed. We could not compass a meal anyhow, but got mealy-mouth’d
-notwithstanding. We could see the Sea mews to the eastward, flying over
-what Byron calls the Gardens of Gull. We saw plenty of Grampus, but
-they were useless to all intents and porpusses, and we had no bait for
-catching a bottle-nose.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_183" name="i_183">
-   <img class="mtop3" src="images/i_183.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption">THE POUND OF FLESH.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_184" name="i_184">
-   <img class="mtop3" src="images/i_184.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption">CATCHING A BOTTLE-NOSE.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Time hung heavily on our hands, for our fast days seemed to pass very
-slowly, and our strength was rapidly sinking from being so much afloat.
-Still we nourished Hope, though we had nothing to give her. But at last
-we lost all prospect of land, if one may so say when no land was in
-sight. The weather got thicker as we were getting thinner; and though
-we kept a sharp watch, it was a very bad look-out. We could see nothing
-before us but nothing to eat and drink. At last the fog cleared off,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span>
-and we saw something like land right a-head, but alas, the wind was
-in our teeth as well as in our stomachs. We could do nothing but keep
-her near, and as we could not keep ourselves full, we luckily suited
-the course of the boat; so that after a tedious beating about&mdash;for
-the wind not only gives blows, but takes a great deal of beating&mdash;we
-came incontinently to an island. Here we landed, and our first impulse
-on coming to dry land was to drink. There was a little brook at hand
-to which we applied ourselves till it seemed actually to murmur at
-our inordinate thirst. Our next care was to look for some food, for
-though our hearts were full at our escape, the neighbouring region was
-dreadfully empty. We succeeded in getting some natives out of their
-bed, and ate them, poor things, as fast as they got up, but with some
-difficulty in getting them open; a common oyster-knife would have been
-worth the price of a sceptre. Our next concern was to look out for a
-lodging, and at last we discovered an empty cave, reminding me of an
-old inscription at Portsmouth, “The whole of this place to let.” We
-took the precaution of rolling some great stones to the entrance, for
-fear of last lodgers,&mdash;that some bear might come home from business,
-or a tiger to tea. Here, under the rock, we slept without rocking,
-and when, through the night’s failing, the day broke, we saw with the
-first instalment of light that we were upon a small desert isle, now
-for the first time an Isle of Man. Accordingly, the birds in this wild
-solitude were so little wild, that a number of boobies and noddies
-allowed themselves to be taken by hand, though the asses were not such
-asses as to be caught. There was an abundance of rabbits, which we
-chased unremittingly, as Hunt runs Warren; and when coats and trousers
-fell short, we clothed our skins with theirs, till, as Monday said,
-we each represented a burrow. In this work Monday was the tailor, for
-like the maker of shadowy rabbits and cocks upon the wall, he could
-turn his hand to anything. He became a potter, a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> carpenter, a butcher,
-and a baker&mdash;that is to say, a master butcher and a master baker, for
-I became merely his journeyman. Reduced to a state of nature, Monday’s
-favourite phrase for our condition, I found my being an officer
-fulfilled no office; to confess the truth, I made a very poor sort of
-savage, whereas Monday, I am persuaded, would have been made a chief by
-any tribe whatever. Our situations in life were completely reversed;
-he became the leader and I the follower, or rather, to do justice to
-his attachment and ability, he became like a strong big brother to a
-helpless little one.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_186" name="i_186">
-   <img class="mtop3" src="images/i_186.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption">IN EMBARRASSED CIRCUMSTANCES.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>We remained in a state of nature five years, when at last a whaler of
-Hull&mdash;though the hull was not visible&mdash;showed her masts on the horizon,
-an event which was telegraphed by Monday, who began saying his prayers
-and dancing the College<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> Hornpipe at the same time with equal fervour.
-We contrived by lighting a fire, literally a <i>feu-de-joie</i>, to make a
-sign of distress, and a boat came to our signal deliverance. We had a
-prosperous passage home, where the reader may anticipate the happiness
-that awaited us; but not the trouble that was in store for me and
-Monday. Our parting was out of the question; we would both rather have
-parted from our sheet anchor. We attempted to return to our relative
-rank, but we had lived so long in a kind of liberty and equality,
-that we could never resume our grades. The state of nature remained
-uppermost with us both, and Monday still watched over and tended me
-like Dominie Sampson with the boy Harry Bertram; go where I would, he
-followed with the dogged pertinacity of Tom Pipes; and do what I might,
-he interfered with the resolute vigour of John Dory in Wild Oats. This
-disposition involved us daily, nay, hourly, in the most embarrassing
-circumstances; and how the connexion might have terminated I know not,
-if it had not been speedily dissolved in a very unexpected manner. One
-morning poor Monday was found on his bed in a sort of convulsion, which
-barely enabled him to grasp my hand, and to falter out, “Good-bye, I am
-go&mdash;going&mdash;back&mdash;to a state of nature.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_187" name="i_187">
-   <img class="mtop3" src="images/i_187.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption">A GOOD ACTION MEETS ITS OWN REWARD.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="DOG-GREL_VERSES_BY_A_POOR_BLIND">DOG-GREL VERSES, BY
-A POOR BLIND.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza-heading">
-      <div class="verse">“Hark! hark! the dogs do bark,</div>
-      <div class="verse">The beggars are coming....”&mdash;O<span class="smaller">LD</span> B<span class="smaller">ALLAD</span>.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">O<span class="smaller">H</span> what shall I do for a dog?</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Of sight I have not got a particle,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Globe, Standard, or Sun,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Times, Chronicle&mdash;none</div>
-      <div class="verse">Can give <i>me</i> a good leading article.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A Mastiff once led me about,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">But people appeared so to fear him&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">I might have got pence</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Without his defence,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But Charity would not come near him.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A Blood-hound was not much amiss,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">But instinct at last got the upper;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">And tracking Bill Soames,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">And thieves to their homes,</div>
-      <div class="verse">I never could get home to supper.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A Fox-hound once served me as guide,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A good one at hill and at valley;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">But day after day</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">He led me astray,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To follow a milk-woman’s tally.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A turnspit once did me good turns</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">At going and crossing, and stopping;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Till one day his breed</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Went off at full speed,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To spit at a great fire in Wapping.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">A Pointer once pointed my way,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">But did not turn out quite so pleasant,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Each hour I’d a stop</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">At a Poulterer’s shop</div>
-      <div class="verse">To point at a very high pheasant.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_189" name="i_189">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_189.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">THE BATH GUIDE.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A Pug did not suit me at all,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The feature unluckily rose up;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">And folks took offence</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">When offering pence,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Because of his turning his nose up.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">A Butcher once gave me a dog,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">That turn’d out the worst one of any;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">A Bull dog’s own pup,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">I got a toss up,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Before he had brought me a penny.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">My next was a Westminster Dog,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">From Aistrop the regular cadger;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">But sightless, I saw</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">He never would draw</div>
-      <div class="verse">A blind man so well as a badger.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A greyhound I got by a swop,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">But, Lord! we soon came to divorces:</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">He treated my strip</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Of cord like a slip,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And left me to go my own courses.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A poodle once tow’d me along,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">But always we came to one harbour</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">To keep his curls smart,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">And shave his hind part,</div>
-      <div class="verse">He constantly call’d on a barber.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">My next was a Newfoundland brute,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">As big as a calf fit for slaughter;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">But my old cataract</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">So truly he back’d</div>
-      <div class="verse">I always fell into the water.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">I once had a sheep-dog for guide,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">His worth did not value a button;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">I found it no go,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">A Smithfield Ducrow,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To stand on four saddles of mutton.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">My next was an Esquimaux dog,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A dog that my bones ache to talk on,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">For picking his ways</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">On cold frosty days</div>
-      <div class="verse">He pick’d out the slides for a walk on.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Bijou was a lady-like dog,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">But vex’d me at night not a little,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">When tea-time was come</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">She would not go home,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Her tail had once trail’d a tin kettle.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">I once had a sort of a Shock,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And kiss’d a street post like a brother,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">And lost every tooth</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">In learning this truth&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">One blind cannot well lead another.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A terrier was far from a trump,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">He had one defect, and a thorough,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">I never could stir,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">’Od rabbit the cur!</div>
-      <div class="verse">Without going into the Borough.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">My next was Dalmatian, the dog!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And led me in danger, oh crikey!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">By chasing horse heels,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Between carriage wheels,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Till I came upon boards that were spiky.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">The next that I had was from Cross,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And once was a favourite spaniel</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">With Nero, now dead,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">And so I was led</div>
-      <div class="verse">Right up to his den like a Daniel.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">A mongrel I tried, and he did,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">As far as the profit and lossing,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Except that the kind</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Endangers the blind,</div>
-      <div class="verse">The breed is so fond of a crossing.</div>
-    </div>
-      <div class="verse">A setter was quite to my taste,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">In alleys or streets broad or narrow</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Till one day I met</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">A very dead set,</div>
-      <div class="verse">At a very dead horse in a barrow.</div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_192" name="i_192">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_192.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“DOG-BERRY.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">I once had a dog that went mad,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And sorry I was that I got him;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">It came to a run,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">And a man with a gun</div>
-      <div class="verse">Pepper’d <i>me</i> when he ought to have shot him.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">My profits have gone to the dogs,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">My trade has been such a deceiver,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">I fear that my aim</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Is a mere losing game,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Unless I can find a Retriever.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_KANGAROOS">THE KANGAROOS.<br />
-
-<span class="s6">A FABLE.</span></h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A <span class="smaller">PAIR</span> of married kangaroos</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">(The case is oft a human one too)</div>
-      <div class="verse">Were greatly puzzled once to choose</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A trade to put their eldest son to:</div>
-      <div class="verse">A little brisk and busy chap,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">As all the little K.’s just then are&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">About some two months off the lap,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">They’re not so long in arms as men are.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A twist in each parental muzzle</div>
-      <div class="verse">Betray’d the hardship of the puzzle&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">So much the flavour of life’s cup</div>
-      <div class="verse">Is framed by early wrong or right,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And Kangaroos we know are quite</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Dependent on their “rearing up.”</div>
-      <div class="verse">The question, with its ins and outs,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Was intricate and full of doubts;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And yet they had no squeamish carings</div>
-      <div class="verse">For trades unfit or fit for gentry,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Such notion never had an entry,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">For they had no armorial bearings.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Howbeit they’re not the last on earth</div>
-      <div class="verse">That might indulge in pride of birth;</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Whoe’er has seen their infant young</div>
-      <div class="verse">Bob in and out their mother’s pokes,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Would own, with very ready tongue,</div>
-      <div class="verse">They are not born like common folks.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Well, thus the serious subject stood,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">It kept the old pair watchful nightly,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Debating for young hopeful’s good,</div>
-      <div class="verse">That he might earn his livelihood,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And go through life (like them) uprightly.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Arms would not do at all; no, marry,</div>
-      <div class="verse">In that line all his race miscarry;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And agriculture was not proper,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Unless they meant the lad to tarry</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">For ever as a mere clod-hopper.</div>
-      <div class="verse">He was not well cut out for preaching,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">At least in any striking style;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And as for being mercantile&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">He was not form’d for over-reaching.</div>
-      <div class="verse">The law&mdash;why there still fate ill-starr’d him,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And plainly from the bar debarr’d him:</div>
-      <div class="verse">A doctor&mdash;who would ever fee him?</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">In music he could scarce engage,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And as for going on the stage</div>
-      <div class="verse">In tragic socks I think I see him!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">He would not make a rigging-mounter;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A haberdasher had some merit,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But there the counter still ran counter,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">For just suppose</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">A lady chose</div>
-      <div class="verse">To ask him for a yard of ferret!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A gardener digging up his beds,</div>
-      <div class="verse">The puzzled parents shook their heads.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">“A tailor would not do because&mdash;”</div>
-      <div class="verse">They paused and glanced upon his paws.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Some parish post, though fate should place it</div>
-      <div class="verse">Before him, how could he embrace it?</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">In short each anxious Kangaroo</div>
-      <div class="verse">Discuss’d the matter through and through;</div>
-      <div class="verse">By day they seem’d to get no nearer,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">’Twas posing quite&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">And in the night</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of course they saw their way no clearer!</div>
-      <div class="verse">At last thus musing on their knees&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or hinder elbows if you please&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">It came&mdash;no thought was ever brighter!</div>
-      <div class="verse">In weighing every why and whether,</div>
-      <div class="verse">They jump’d upon it both together&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">“Let’s make the imp a <i>short-hand writer</i>!”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse padtop1 mleft8"><span class="smaller">MORAL</span>.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">I wish all human parents so</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Would argue what their sons are fit for;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Some would-be critics that I know</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Would be in trades they have more wit for.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="LITERARY_REMINISCENCES_II">LITERARY REMINISCENCES.<br />
-
-<span class="s6">No. II.</span></h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p>T<span class="smaller">O</span> do justice to the climate of “stout and original Scotland,” it
-promised to act kindly by the constitution committed to its care. The
-air evidently agreed with the natives; and auld Robin Grays and John
-Andersons were plenty as blackberries, and Auld Lang Syne himself
-seemed to walk, bonneted, amongst<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> these patriarchal figures in the
-likeness of an old man covered with a mantle. The effect on myself
-was rather curious&mdash;for I seemed to have come amongst a generation
-that scarcely belonged to my era; mature spinsters, waning bachelors,
-very motherly matrons, and experienced fathers, that I should have
-set down as uncles and aunts, called themselves my cousins; reverend
-personages, apparently grandfathers and grandmothers, were simply
-great uncles and aunts: and finally I enjoyed an interview with a
-relative oftener heard of traditionally, than encountered in the
-body&mdash;a great-great grandmother&mdash;still a tall woman and a tolerable
-pedestrian, going indeed down the hill, but with the wheel well
-locked. It was like coming amongst the Struldbrugs; and truly, for any
-knowledge to the contrary, many of these Old Mortalities are still
-living, enjoying their sneeshing, their toddy, their cracks, and
-particular reminiscences. The very phrase of being “Scotch’d, but not
-killed,” seems to refer to this Caledonian tenacity of life, of which
-the well-known Walking Stewart was an example: he was an annuitant in
-the County-office, and as the actuaries would say, died very hard. It
-must be difficult for the teatotallers to reconcile this longevity with
-the imputed enormous consumption of ardent spirits beyond the Tweed.
-Scotia, according to the evidence of Mr. Buckingham’s committee, is an
-especially drouthie bodie, who drinks whiskey at christenings, and at
-buryings, and on all possible occasions besides. Her sons drink not by
-the hour or by the day, but by the week,&mdash;witness Souter Johnny:&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Tam lo’ed him like a vera brither,</div>
-      <div class="verse">They had been fou for weeks thegither.”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="p0">Swallowing no thin washy potation, but a strong overproof spirit,
-with a smack of smoke&mdash;and “where there is smoke there is fire,” yet
-without flashing off, according to temperance theories, by spontaneous
-combustion. On the contrary, the canny northerns are noted for
-soundness of constitution and clearness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> of head, with such a strong
-principle of vitality as to justify the poetical prediction of C***,
-that the world’s longest liver, or Last Man, will be a Scotchman.</p>
-
-<p>All these favourable signs I duly noted; and prophetically refrained
-from delivering the letter of introduction to Doctor C&mdash;&mdash;, which was
-to place me under his medical care. As the sick man said, when he
-went into the gin-shop instead of the hospital, I “trusted to natur.”
-Whenever the weather permitted, therefore, which was generally when
-there were no new books to the fore, I haunted the banks and braes, or
-paid flying visits to the burns, with a rod intended to punish that
-rising generation amongst fishes called trout. But I whipped in vain.
-Trout there were in plenty, but like obstinate double teeth, with a bad
-operator, they would neither be pulled out nor come out of themselves.
-Still the sport, if so it might be called, had its own attractions, as,
-the catching excepted, the whole of the Waltonish enjoyments were at
-my command, the contemplative quiet, the sweet wholesome country air,
-and the picturesque scenery&mdash;not to forget the relishing the homely
-repast at the shealing or the mill; sometimes I went alone, but often
-we were a company, and then we had for our attendant a journeyman
-tobacco-spinner, an original, and literary withal, for he had a reel in
-his head, whence ever and anon he unwound a line of Allan Ramsay, or
-Beattie, or Burns. Methinks I still listen, trudging homewards in the
-gloaming, to the recitation of that appropriate stanza, beginning&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“At the close of the day when the hamlet was still,”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="p0">delivered with a gusto perhaps only to be felt by a day-labouring
-mechanic, who had “nothing but his evenings to himself.” Methinks I
-still sympathise with the zest with which he dwelt on the pastoral
-images and dreams so rarely realised, when a chance holiday gave
-him the fresh-breathing fragrance of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> living flower in lieu
-of the stale odour of the Indian weed; and philosophically I can
-now understand why poetry, with its lofty aspirations and sublimed
-feelings, seemed to sound so gratefully to the ear from the lips of
-a “squire of low degree.” There is something painful and humiliating
-to humanity in the abjectness of mind, that too often accompanies the
-sordid condition of the working classes; whereas it is soothing and
-consolatory to find the mind of the poor man rising superior to his
-estate, and compensating by intellectual enjoyment for the physical
-pains and privation that belong to his humble lot. Whatever raises
-him above the level of the ox in the garner, or the horse in the
-mill, ought to be acceptable to the pride, if not to the charity, of
-the fellow creature that calls him brother; for instance, music and
-dancing, but against which innocent unbendings some of our magistracy
-persist in setting their faces, as if resolved that a low neighbourhood
-should enjoy no dance but St. Vitus’s, and no fiddle but the Scotch.</p>
-
-<p>To these open-air pursuits, sailing was afterwards added, bringing
-me acquainted with the boatmen and fishermen of The Craig, a hardy
-race, rough and ready-witted, from whom perchance was first derived my
-partiality for all marine bipeds and sea-craft, from Flag Admirals down
-to Jack Junk, the proud first-rate to the humble boatie that “wins the
-bairns’ bread.” The Tay at Dundee is a broad noble river, with a racing
-tide, which, when it differs with a contrary wind, will get up “<i>jars</i>”
-(Anglicè waves) quite equal to those of a family manufacture. It was
-at least a good preparatory school for learning the rudiments of boat
-craft; whereof I acquired enough to be able at need to take the helm
-without either going too near the wind or too distant from the port.
-Not without some boyish pride I occasionally found myself intrusted
-with the guidance of the Coach-Boat&mdash;so called from its carrying the
-passengers by the Edinburgh Mail&mdash;particularly in a calm, when the
-utmost exertions<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> of the crew, four old man-of-war’s-men, were required
-at the oars. It not unfrequently happened, however, that “the laddie”
-was unceremoniously ousted by the unanimous vote, and sometimes by the
-united strength, of the ladies, who invariably pitched upon the oldest
-old gentleman in the vessel to</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“<i>Steer</i> her up and haud her gaun.”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="p0">The consequence being the landing with all the baggage, some half-mile
-above or below the town&mdash;and a too late conviction, that the <i>Elder</i>
-Brethren of our Trinity House were not the best Pilots.</p>
-
-<p>It was during one of these brief voyages, that I witnessed a
-serio-comic accident, at which the reader will smile or sigh according
-to his connexion with the Corporation of London. I forget on what
-unconscious pilgrimage it was bound, but amongst the other passengers
-one day, there was that stock-dove of a gourmand’s affection, a five
-lively turtle. Rich and rare as it was, it did not travel unprotected
-like Moore’s heroine, but was under the care of a vigilant guardian,
-who seemed as jealous of the eyes that looked amorously at his charge,
-as if the latter had been a ward in Chancery. So far&mdash;namely, as far
-as the middle of the Tay&mdash;so good; when the spirit of mischief, or
-curiosity, or humanity, suggested the convenience of a sea-bath, and
-the refreshment the creature might derive from a taste of its native
-element. Accordingly, Testudo was lifted over the side, and indulged
-with a dip and a wallop in the wave, which actually revived it so
-powerfully, that from a playful flapping with its fore-fins it soon
-began to struggle most vigorously, like a giant refreshed with brine.
-In fact, it paddled with a power which, added to its weight, left no
-alternative to its guardian but to go with it, or without it. The event
-soon came off. The man tumbled backward into the boat, and the turtle
-plunged forward into the deep. There was a splash&mdash;a momentary glimpse
-of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> the broad back-shell&mdash;the waters closed, and all was over&mdash;or
-at least under! In vain one of the boatmen aimed a lunge with his
-boat-hook, at the fatal spot in particular&mdash;in vain another made a blow
-with his oar at the Tay in general&mdash;whilst a third, in his confusion,
-heaved a coil of rope, as he would, could, should, might, or ought to
-have done to a drowning Christian. The Amphibious was beyond their
-reach, and no doubt, making westward and homeward with all its might,
-with an instinctive feeling that</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“The world was all before it where to choose</div>
-      <div class="verse">Its place of rest, and Providence its guide.”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="p0">Never shall I forget, whilst capable of reminiscences, the face of that
-mourning mate thus suddenly bereaved of his turtle! The unfortunate
-shepherd, Ding-dog, in Rabelais, could hardly have looked more utterly
-and unutterably dozed, crazed, mizmazed, and flabbergasted, when his
-whole flock and stock of golden-fleeced sheep suicidically sheepwashed
-themselves to death, by wilfully leaping over-board! He said little
-in words, but more eloquently clapped his hands to his waistcoat, as
-if the loss, as the nurses say, had literally “flown to his stomach.”
-And truly, after promising it both callipash and callipee, with the
-delicious green fat to boot, what cold comfort could well be colder
-than the miserable chilling reflection that there was</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Cauld kail in Aberdeen?”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_DOMESTIC_DILEMMA">THE DOMESTIC DILEMMA;<br />
-
-<span class="s6">A TRUE STORY,</span><br />
-
-<span class="s7">FROM THE GERMAN OF JEAN PAUL NEMAND.</span></h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<h3>CHAPTER I.</h3>
-
-<p>“I <span class="smaller">AM</span> perfectly at my wits’ ends!”</p>
-
-<p>As Madame Doppeldick said this, she thrust both her fat hands into
-the pockets of her scarlet cotton apron, at the same time giving her
-head a gentle shake, as if implying that it was a case in which heads
-and hands could be of no possible avail. She was standing in a little
-dormitory, exactly equidistant from two beds, between which her eyes
-and her thoughts had been alternating some ten minutes past. They were
-small beds,&mdash;pallets,&mdash;cots,&mdash;cribs, troughs upon four legs, such
-as the old painters represent the manger in their pictures of the
-Nativity. Our German beds are not intended to carry double, and in such
-an obscure out-of-the way village as Kleinewinkel, who would think of
-finding any thing better in the way of a couch than a sort of box just
-too little for a bed, and just too large for a coffin? It was between
-two such bedlings, then, that Madame Doppeldick was standing, when she
-broke out into the aforesaid exclamation&mdash;“I am perfectly at my wits’
-ends!”</p>
-
-<p>Now, the wits’ ends of Madame Doppeldick scarcely extended farther
-from her scull than the horns of a snail. They seldom protruded far
-beyond her nose, and that was a short one; and moreover they were apt
-to recede and draw in from the first obstacle they encountered, leaving
-their proprietor to feel her own way, as if she had no wits’ ends at
-all. Thus, having satisfied themselves that there were only two beds
-in the rooms, they left the poor lady in the lurch, and absolutely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span>
-at a nonplus, as to how she was to provide for the accommodation of a
-third sleeper, who was expected to arrive the same evening. There was
-only one best bed-room in the house, and it happened to be the worst
-bed-room also; all for Gretchen, the maid-servant, went home nightly to
-sleep at her mother’s. To be sure a shake-down might be spread in the
-parlour; but to be sure the parlour was also a shop of all sorts; and
-to be sure the young officer would object to such accommodations; and
-to be very sure, Mr. Doppeldick would object equally to the shake-down,
-and giving up the two beds overhead to his wife and the young officer.</p>
-
-<p>“God forgive me,” said the perplexed Madame Doppeldick as she went
-slowly down the stairs;&mdash;“but I wish Captain Schenk had been killed at
-the battle of Leipzig, or had got a bed of glory anywhere else, before
-he came to be billeted on us!”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_202" name="i_202">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_202.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“I’LL TAKE A BED WITH YOU.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3>
-
-<p>I<span class="smaller">N</span> extenuation of so unchristian-like an aspiration as the one which
-escaped from the lips of Madame Doppeldick at the end of the last
-chapter, it must be remembered that she was a woman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> of great delicacy
-for her size. She was so corpulent, that she might safely have gone to
-court without a hoop, her arms were too big for legs; and as for her
-legs, it passed for a miracle of industry, even amongst the laborious
-hard-working inhabitants of Kleinewinkel, that she knitted her own
-stockings. It must be confessed, that she ate heartily, drank heartily,
-and slept heartily; and all she ate, drank, and slept, seemed to do her
-good, for she never ceased growing, at least horizontally, till she
-did ample justice to the name which became her own by marriage. Still,
-as the bulk of her body increased, the native shrinking, unobtrusive
-modesty of her mind remained the same; or rather it became even more
-tremulously sensitive. In spite of her huge dimensions, she seemed to
-entertain the Utopian desire of being seen by no eyes save those of
-her husband; of passing through life unnoticed and unknown; in short
-she was a globe-peony with the feelings of a violet. Judge then what
-a shock her blushing sensibilities received from the mere idea of the
-strange captain intruding on the shadiest haunts of domestic privacy!
-Although by birth, education, and disposition, as loyal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> as the
-sunflower to the sun, in the first rash transports of her trepidation
-and vexation she wished anything but well to her liege sovereign the
-King of Prussia&mdash;wondering bitterly why his majesty could not contrive
-to have his reviews and sham-fights in Berlin itself; or at least in
-Posen, where there were spare beds to be had, and lodgings to let for
-single men. Then again, if the Quarter-master had but condescended
-to give a quarter’s notice, why, Mr. Doppeldick might have run up
-an extra room, or they might have parted off a portion of their own
-chamber with lath and plaster&mdash;or they might have done a thousand
-things; for instance, they might have sold their house and left the
-country, instead of being thus taken unawares in their own sanctorum
-by a strange gentleman, as suddenly as if he had tumbled through the
-roof. “It was too bad&mdash;it was really too bad&mdash;and she wondered what Mr.
-Doppeldick would say to it when he came home.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_203" name="i_203">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_203.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“I WISH I WAS WELL THROUGH IT.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<h3>CHAPTER III.</h3>
-
-<p>M<span class="smaller">R</span>. D<span class="smaller">OPPELDICK</span> did come home&mdash;and he said nothing to it at all. He only
-pulled his tobacco-bag out of one coat-pocket, and his tobacco-pipe
-out of the other, and then he struck a light, and fell to smoking,
-as complacently as if there had been no Captain Schenk in the world.
-The truth was, he had none of that nervous nicety of feeling, which
-his partner possessed so eminently, and, accordingly, he took no more
-interest in her domestic dilemma, than the walnut-wood chair that he
-sat upon. Moreover, when he once had in his mouth his favourite pipe,
-with a portrait of Kant on the bowl of it, he sucked through its tube a
-sort of Transcendental Philosophy which elevated him above all the ills
-of human life, to say nothing of such little domestic inconveniences
-as the present. If the house had been as big as the hotel de Nassau,
-at Schlangenbad, with as many chambers and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> spare beds in it&mdash;or a
-barrack, with quarters for the captain and his company to boot&mdash;he
-could not have puffed on more contentedly. The very talk about beds
-and bedding appeared to lull him into a sort of sleep with his eyes
-open; and even when the voice and words of his helpmate grew a little
-sharp and querulous in detailing all her doubts, and difficulties, and
-disagreeables, they could not raise even a ripple in the calm placid
-expanse of his forehead. How should they? His equable German good
-humour might well be invulnerable to all outward attacks, which had
-so long withstood every internal one,&mdash;ay, in Temper’s very citadel,
-the stomach. For instance, the better part of his daily diet was of
-sours. He ate “sauer-kraut,” and “sauer-braten,” with sour sauce and
-“sauer-ampfer” by way of salad, and pickled plums by way of dessert,
-and “sauer-milch” with sourish brown bread&mdash;and then, to wash these
-down, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> drank sourish “Essigberger” wine, and “sauer-wasser,” of
-which the village of Kleinewinkel had its own peculiar brunnen. Still,
-I say, by all these sours, and many others not mentioned besides, his
-temper was never soured&mdash;nor could they turn one drop of the milk of
-human kindness that flowed in his bosom. Instead, therefore, of his
-round features being ever rumpled and crumpled, and furrowed up by
-the plough-share of passion, you never saw any thing on his face but
-the same everlasting sub-smile of phlegmatic philanthropy. In spite
-of the stream of complaint that kept pouring into his ear, he forgave
-Captain Schenk from the bottom of his soul for being billeted on him;
-and entertained no more spleen towards the King of Prussia and the
-Quarter-master, than he did towards the gnat that bit him last year.
-At length, his pipe wanting replenishing, he dropped a few comfortable
-words to his wife, meanwhile he refilled the bowl, and brought the
-engine again into play:&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_205" name="i_205">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_205.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“WE ALL SMOKE IN GERMANY.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_206" name="i_206">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_206.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“THE LAST IN BED TO PUT OUT THE LIGHT.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“As for undressing, Malchen&mdash;before the strange man&mdash;puff&mdash;why can’t we
-go to bed,&mdash;puff&mdash;before <i>he</i> does,&mdash;puff&mdash;puff and so put an end to
-the matter&mdash;puff&mdash;puff&mdash;puff!”</p>
-
-<p>“As I live upon damsons and bullases!” (for it was the plum season,)
-exclaimed Madame Doppeldick, clapping her fat hands with delight,
-“I never thought of that! Gretchen, my lass, get the supper ready
-immediately, for your good master is mortal hungry, and so am I!&mdash;and
-then, my own Dietrich dear, we’ll bundle off to bed as fast as we can!”</p>
-
-<h3>CHAPTER IV.</h3>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_207" name="i_207">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_207.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">TRAVELLERS SEEING THE “LIONS.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>T<span class="smaller">HE</span> best of plots may come to the worst of ends. It was no fault,
-however, of Gretchen’s; for being in a hurry of her own to meet Ludwig
-Liedeback, she clapped the supper upon the table in no time at all.
-The transcendental pipe, with the head of Kant upon it, instantly
-found itself deposited in a by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> corner; for Mr. Doppeldick, like his
-better half, was a person of substance, keeping a good running account
-with Messer and Gabel. Besides, amongst other delicacies, the board
-actually displayed those rarest of all inland rarities, oysters,&mdash;a bag
-of which the warm-hearted Adam Kloot had sent, by way of a token of
-remembrance, to his old friend Dietrich; forgetting utterly that it was
-full a hundred leagues from the nearest high water-mark of the sea to
-the village of Kleinewinkel. Of course they came like other travellers,
-with their mouths wide agape, to see the wonders of the place,&mdash;but,
-then, so much the easier they were to open; and as the worthy couple
-did not contemplate any such superfluous nicety as <i>shaving</i> them
-before they swallowed them, there was a fair chance that the delicious
-morsels would all be devoured before the inauspicious arrival of
-Captain Schenk. Some such speculation seemed to glimmer in the eyes of
-both Mr. and Mrs. Doppeldick&mdash;when, lo! just as the sixth dead oyster
-had been body-snatched out of its shell, and was being flavoured up
-with lemon and vinegar, the door opened, and in walked a blue cap with
-a red band, a pair of mustachios, and a grey cloak without any arms in
-its sleeves. Had Madame Doppeldick held any thing but an oyster in her
-mouth at that moment it would infallibly have choked her, the flutter
-of her heart in her throat was so violent.</p>
-
-<p>“Holy Virgin!&mdash;Captain Schenk!”</p>
-
-<p>“At your service, Madame,” answered a voice through the mustachios.</p>
-
-<p>“You are welcome, Captain!” said the worthy master of the house, at
-the same time rising, and placing a chair for his guest at that side
-of the table which was farthest from the oysters. The officer, without
-any ceremony, threw himself into the seat, and then, resting his elbows
-upon the table, and his cheeks between his palms, he fixed his dark
-eyes on the blushing face of Madame Doppeldick in a long and steady
-stare. It is true that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> he was only mentally reviewing the review;
-or, possibly, calculating the chances he had made in favour of an
-application he had lately forwarded to Berlin, to be exchanged into
-the Royal Guards; but the circumstance sufficed to set every nerve of
-Madame Doppeldick a-vibrating, and in two minutes from his arrival, she
-had made up her mind that he was a very bold, forward, and presuming
-young man.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_209" name="i_209">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_209.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“O HAM&mdash;WHAT A FALLING OFF WAS THERE.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>It is astonishing, when we have once conceived a prejudice, how
-rapidly it grows, and how plentifully it finds nutriment! Like the sea
-polypus, it extends its thousand feelers on every side, for anything
-they can lay hold of, and the smallest particle afloat in the ocean
-of conjecture cannot escape from the tenacity of their grasp. So it
-was with Madame Doppeldick. From mistrusting the captain’s eyes, she
-came to suspect his nose, his mustachios, his mouth, his chin, and
-even the slight furrow of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> sabre cut that scarred his forehead just
-over the left eyebrow. She felt morally sure that he had received it
-in no battle-field, but in some scandalous duel. Luckily she had never
-seen Mozart’s celebrated opera, or she would inevitably have set down
-Captain Schenk as its libertine masquerading hero, Don Giovanni himself!</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_210" name="i_210">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_210.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“A PIPING BULLFINCH.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>“You will be sharp-set for supper, Captain,” said the hospitable
-host, pushing towards his guest a dish of lean home-made bacon; but
-the Captain took no more notice of the invitation than if he had
-been stunned stone-deaf by the artillery at the sham-fight in the
-morning. Possibly he did not like bacon, or, at any rate, such bacon
-as was set before him; for to put the naked Truth on her bare oath,
-the Kleinewinkel pigs always looked as if they got their living, like
-cockroaches, by creeping through cracks. However, he never changed
-his posture, but kept his dark intolerable eyes still fixed on his
-hostess’s full and flushed face. He might just as well have stared,&mdash;if
-he must stare&mdash;at the shelves-full of old family china (some of it
-elaborately mended and riveted) in the corner cupboard, the door of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span>
-which she had left open on purpose; but he had, apparently, no such
-considerate respect for female modesty.</p>
-
-<p>“Saint Ursula and the Eleven Thousand be near us!” said the disquieted
-Madame Doppeldick to herself. “It is hard enough for people of our
-years and bulk to be obliged to lie double;&mdash;but to have a strange,
-wild, rakish, staring young fellow in the same chamber&mdash;I <i>do</i> wish
-that Dietrich would make more haste with his supper, that we may get
-into bed first!”</p>
-
-<h3>CHAPTER V.</h3>
-
-<p>H<span class="smaller">ONEST</span> Dietrich was in no such hurry. A rational, moral, pious man,
-with a due grateful sense of the sapidity of certain gifts of the
-Creator, ought not to swallow them with the post-haste indifference
-of a sow swilling her wash; and as Dietrich Doppeldick did not taste
-oysters once in ten years, it was a sort of religious obligation,
-as well as a positive secular temptation, that the relish of each
-particular fish should be prolonged as far as possible on the palate by
-an orderly, decorous, and deliberate deglutition. Accordingly, instead
-of bolting the oysters as if he had been swallowing them for a wager,
-he sate soberly, with his eyes fixed on the two plumpest, as if only
-awaiting the “good-night” of his guest to do ample and Christian-like
-justice to the edible forget-me-nots of his good friend Adam Kloot. In
-vain his wife looked hard at him, and trod on his toes as long as she
-could reach them, besides being seized with a short hectic cough that
-was any thing but constitutional&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>“Lord, help me!” said Mrs. Doppeldick in her soul, too fluttered to
-attend to the correctness of her metaphors&mdash;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span>“It’s as easy to catch the
-eye of a post!&mdash;He minds me no more than if I trod on the toes of a
-stock-fish! I might as well cough into the ears of a stone wall.”</p>
-
-<p>In fact, honest Dietrich had totally forgotten the domestic dilemma.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_212" name="i_212">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_212.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“KISSING GOES BY FAVOUR.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>“He will never take his eyes off,” thought Madame Doppeldick, stealing
-a glance across the table; “I was never so stared at, never since
-I was a girl and wore pigtails! I expect every moment he will jump
-and embrace me.” Whereas nothing could be further from the Captain’s
-thought. The second battalion had joined that very morning, and
-accordingly he had kissed, or been kissed by, all its eight-and-twenty
-officers, tall or short, fat or lean, fair or swarthy,&mdash;which was quite
-kissing enough for a reasonable day’s ration. The truth is, he was
-staring at himself. He had just, mentally, put on a new uniform, and
-was looking with the back of his eyes at his own brilliant figure, as
-a Captain in the Royal Guards. It was, however, a stare, outwardly,
-at Madame Doppeldick, who took<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> everything to herself, frogs, lace,
-bullion, buttons, cuffs, collars, epaulettes, and the Deuce knows what
-besides.</p>
-
-<p>“I would to Heaven!” she wished, “he had never thought of going into
-the army,&mdash;or at least that the Quarter-master had never taken it into
-his stupid head to quarter him on us. Young gay Captains are very well
-to flirt with, or to waltz with, but at my years and bulk waltzing is
-quite out of the question!”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_213" name="i_213">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_213.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">WALTZING TO A NEW AIR.</p>
-</div>
-
-<h3>CHAPTER VI.</h3>
-
-<p>A<span class="smaller">T</span> last Captain Schenk changed his posture, and averted his familiar
-eyes from the face of Madame Doppeldick; but it was only to give her a
-fresh alarm with his free-and-easy mouth. First of all he clenched his
-fists&mdash;then he raised his arms at full stretch<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> above his head, as if
-he wanted to be crucified, and then turning his face upwards towards
-the ceiling, with his eyes shut, and his jaws open&mdash;he yawned such a
-yawn, as panther never yawned after prowling all day without prey, in a
-ten-foot cage&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>“Auw-yauw-au-ya-augh-auwayawauwghf!”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_214" name="i_214">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_214.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">HOB AND NOB.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>“By all the Saints,” thought the terrified Madame Doppeldick, “he will
-be for packing off to bed at once!”&mdash;and in the vain hope of inducing
-him to sup beforehand, she seized, yes, she actually seized the devoted
-dish of oysters, and made them relieve guard, with the home-made bacon,
-just under the Captain’s nose. It was now honest Dietrich’s turn to
-try to catch the eyes of posts, and tread on the toes of stock-fish;
-however, for this time the natives were safe.</p>
-
-<p>“By your leave, Madame,” said the abominable voice through the
-moustachios,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> “I will take nothing except a candle. What with the heavy
-rain at first, and then the horse artillery ploughing up our marching
-ground, I am really dog-tired with my day’s work. If you will do me the
-favour, therefore, to show me to my chamber&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_215" name="i_215">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_215.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“WHAT NEXT?” AS THE FROG SAID WHEN HIS TAIL FELL OFF.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>“Not for the whole world!” exclaimed the horrified Madame
-Doppeldick&mdash;“not for the whole world, I mean, till you have
-hob-and-nobbed with us&mdash;at least with the good man”&mdash;and, like a
-warm-hearted hostess, jealous of the honour of her hospitality, she
-snatched up the spare-candle, and hurried off to the barrel. If she
-could but set them down to drinking, she calculated, let who <i>would</i> be
-the second, she would herself be the first in bed, if she jumped into
-it with all her clothes on. It was a likely scheme enough,&mdash;but alas!
-it fell through, like the rest!&mdash;Before she had drawn half a flask of
-Essigberger, or Holzapfelheimer, for I forget which&mdash;she was alarmed
-by the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> double screech of two chairs pushed suddenly back on the
-uncarpeted floor. Then came a trampling of light and heavy feet&mdash;and
-although she dropped the bottle&mdash;and forgot to turn the spigot&mdash;and
-carried the candle without the candlestick&mdash;and left her left slipper
-behind her,&mdash;still, in spite of all the haste she could make, she
-only reached the stair-foot just in time to see two Prussian-blue
-coat-tails, turned up with red, whisking in at the bed-room door!</p>
-
-<h3>CHAPTER VII.</h3>
-
-<p>“O<span class="smaller">H</span> the cruel, the killing ill-luck that pursues us!” exclaimed the
-forlorn Madame Doppeldick, as her husband returned, with his mouth
-watering, to the little parlour, where, by some sort of attraction,
-he was drawn into the Captain’s vacant chair, instead of his own. In
-a few seconds the plumpest of Adam Kloot’s tender souvenirs, of about
-the size and shape of a penny bun, was sliding over his tongue. Then
-another went&mdash;and another&mdash;and another. They were a little gone or so,
-and no wonder; for they had travelled up the Rhine and the Moselle, in
-a dry “schiff,” not a “dampschiff,” towed by real horse-powers, instead
-of steam-powers, against the stream. To tell the naked truth, there
-were only four words in the world that a respectably fresh Cod’s head
-could have said to them, namely&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_216" name="i_216">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_216.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“NONE OF YOUR SAUCE.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>No matter: down they went glibly, glibly. The lemon-juice did something
-for them, and the vinegar still more, by making them seem sharp instead
-of flat. Honest Dietrich enjoyed them as mightily as Adam Kloot could
-have wished; and was in no humour, you may be sure, for spinning prolix
-answers or long-winded speeches.</p>
-
-<p>“They are good&mdash;very!&mdash;excellent! Malchen!&mdash;Just eat a couple.”</p>
-
-<p>But the mind of the forlorn Malchen was occupied with any thing but
-oysters; it was fixed upon things above, or at least overhead. “I do
-not think I can sit up all night,” she murmured, concluding with such
-a gape that the tears squeezed out plentifully between her fat little
-eyelids.</p>
-
-<p>“I’ve found only one bad one&mdash;and that was full of black
-mud&mdash;schloo&mdash;oo&mdash;oo&mdash;ooop!”&mdash;slirropped honest Dietrich. N. B. There
-is no established formula of minims and crotchets on the gamut to
-represent the swallowing of an oyster: so the aforesaid syllables of
-“schloo&mdash;oo&mdash;oo&mdash;ooop,” must stand in their stead.</p>
-
-<p>“As for sleeping in my clothes,” continued Madame Doppeldick, “the
-weather is so very warm,&mdash;and the little window won’t open&mdash;and with
-two in a bed&mdash;”</p>
-
-<p>“The English do it, Malchen,&mdash;schloo&mdash;oo&mdash;ooop!”</p>
-
-<p>“But the English beds have curtains,” said Madame Doppeldick, “thick
-stuff or canvas curtains, Dietrich,&mdash;all round, and over the top&mdash;just
-like a general’s tent.”</p>
-
-<p>“We can go&mdash;schloo&mdash;ooop&mdash;to bed in the dark, Malchen.”</p>
-
-<p>“No&mdash;no,” objected Madam Doppeldick, with a grave shake of her head.
-“We’ll have no blindman’s-buff work, Dietrich,&mdash;and maybe blundering
-into wrong beds.”</p>
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span></p>
-<p>“Schloo&mdash;oo&mdash;oo&mdash;oo&mdash;ooop.”</p>
-
-<p>“And if ever I saw a wild, rakish, immoral, irreligious-looking young
-man, Dietrich, the Captain is one!”</p>
-
-<p>“Schloo&mdash;oo&mdash;oo&mdash;oo&mdash;ooop.”</p>
-
-<p>“Did you observe, Dietrich, how shamefully he stared at me?”</p>
-
-<p>“Schloo&mdash;ooop.”</p>
-
-<p>“And the cut on his forehead, Dietrich, I’ll be bound he got it for no
-good!”</p>
-
-<p>“Schloo&mdash;oo&mdash;oo&mdash;oo&mdash;ooop.”</p>
-
-<p>“Confound Adam Kloot and his oysters to boot!” exclaimed the offended
-Madame Doppeldick, irritated beyond all patience at the bovine apathy
-of her connubial partner. “I wish, I do, that the nets had burst in
-catching them!”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, what can one do, Malchen?” asked honest Dietrich, looking up for
-the first time from the engrossing dish, whence the one-a-penny oysters
-had all vanished, leaving only the two-a-penny ones behind.</p>
-
-<p>“Saint Ursula only knows!” sighed Madame Doppeldick, her voice
-relapsing into its former tone of melancholy. “I only know that I will
-never undress in the room!”</p>
-
-<p>“Then you must undress out of it, Malchen. Schloo&mdash;oop.
-Schloo&mdash;oo&mdash;oo&mdash;oo&mdash;ooop.”</p>
-
-<p>“I believe that must be the way after all,” said Madame Doppeldick,
-on whose mind her husband’s sentence of transcendental philosophy had
-cast a new light. “To be sure there is a little landing-place at the
-stair-head, and <i>our</i> bed is exactly opposite the door&mdash;and if one
-scuttled briskly across the room, and jumped in&mdash;But are you sure,
-Dietrich, that you explained every thing correctly to the Captain? Did
-you tell him that <i>his</i> was the one next the window&mdash;with the patchwork
-coverlet?”</p>
-
-<p>“Not a word of it!” answered honest Dietrich, who like all other
-Prussians had served his two years as a soldier, and was therefore
-moderately interested in military manœuvres.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> “Not a word of it&mdash;we
-talked all about the review. But I did what was far better, my own
-Malchen, for I saw him get into the bed with the patchwork coverlet,
-with my own eyes, and then took away his candle&mdash;Schloo&mdash;oo&mdash;oop!”</p>
-
-<p>“It was done like my own dear, kind Dietrich,” exclaimed the delighted
-Madame Doppeldick, and in the sudden revulsion of her feelings, she
-actually pulled up his huge round bullet-head from the dish, and kissed
-him between the nose and chin.</p>
-
-<p>The Domestic Dilemma was disarmed of its horns, Madame Doppeldick saw
-her way before her, as clear and open as the Rhine three months after
-the ice has broken up. From that moment, as long as the dish contained
-two oysters, the air of “Schloo&mdash;oo&mdash;oo&mdash;oo&mdash;ooop” was sung, as
-“arranged for a duet.”</p>
-
-<h3>CHAPTER VIII.</h3>
-
-<p>“A<span class="smaller">LL</span> is quiet, thank Heaven! the Captain is as fast as a church,”
-thought Madame Doppeldick, as she stood in nocturnal dishabille, on the
-little landing-place, at the stair-head. “Now then, my own Dietrich,”
-she whispered, “are you ready to run?” For like the best of wives, as
-she was, she did not much care to go anywhere without her husband.</p>
-
-<p>But the deliberate Dietrich was not prepared to escort her. He had
-chosen to undress as usual, with his transcendental pipe in his mouth;
-indeed it was always the last thing that he took off before getting
-into bed, so that till all his philosophy was burned to ashes, his mind
-would not consent to any active corporeal exertion, especially to any
-locomotion so rapid as a race. At last he stood balancing, made up for
-the start; his eyes staring, his teeth clenched, his fists doubled,
-and his arms swinging, as if he were about to be admitted a burgess of
-Andernach&mdash;that is to say, by leaping backwards over a winnowing fan,
-with a well poised pail of water in his arms, in order to show if he
-accomplished it neatly.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“The night-light may be left burning where it is, Dietrich.”</p>
-
-<p>“Now then, Malchen!”</p>
-
-<p>“Now then Dietrich,&mdash;and run gently&mdash;on your toes!”</p>
-
-<p>No sooner said than done. The modest Malchen with the speed of a young
-wild elephant made a rush across the room, and, with something of a
-jump and something more of a scramble, plunged headlong into the bed.
-The phlegmatic Dietrich was a thought later, from having included
-the whole length of the landing-place in his run, to help him in his
-leap, so that just as his bulk came squash! upon the coverlet, his
-predecessor was tumbling her body, skow-wow, bow-wow, any-how, over the
-side of the bedstead.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_220" name="i_220">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_220.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">COUNTRY QUARTERS.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>“Sancta Maria!” sobbed Madame Doppeldick, as she settled into hysterics
-upon the floor.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“Potz-tausend!” said Mr. Doppeldick, as he crawled backwards out of the
-bed like a crab.</p>
-
-<p>“Ten thousand devils!” bellowed Captain Schenk&mdash;a suppressed
-exclamation that the first shock had driven from his mouth into his
-throat, from his throat into his lungs, and from thence into his
-stomach; but which the second shock had now driven out again in full
-force.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_221" name="i_221">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_221.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">THE BEARER OF THE GREAT SEAL.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center mtop1 mbot1">*<span class="mleft3">*</span><span class="mleft3">*</span><span class="mleft3">*</span><span class="mleft3">*</span><span class="mleft3">*</span></p>
-
-<p>“Why, I thought, Mister Jean Paul Nemand (says the reader), that we
-left the Captain safe and sound, in his own bed, next the window, with
-the patch-work coverlet?”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“And so we did, Mister Carl Wilhelm Jemand (says the author,) but it
-was so short, that in five minutes he caught the cramp. Wherefore, as
-there was a second spare bed in the room, and as honest Dietrich had
-said nothing of other lodgers, and as of all blessings we ought to
-choose the biggest, the Captain determined to give it a trial&mdash;and
-between you and me he liked the bed well enough, till he felt a sort of
-smashing pain all over his body, his eyes squeezing out of his face,
-his nose squeezing into it, and his precious front teeth, at a gulp,
-going uninvited down his gullet!”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_222" name="i_222">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_222.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“WHY DID YOU SUP ON PORK?”</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="ODE_FOR_THE_NINTH_OF_NOVEMBER">ODE FOR THE NINTH OF
-NOVEMBER.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft3">O Lud! O Lud! O Lud!</div>
-      <div class="verse">I mean of course that venerable town,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Mention’d in stories of renown,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Built formerly of mud;&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">O Lud, I say, why didst thou e’er</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Invent the office of a Mayor,</div>
-      <div class="verse">An office that no useful purpose crowns,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But to set Aldermen against each other,</div>
-      <div class="verse">That should be Brother unto Brother,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Sisters at least, by virtue of their gowns</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">But still if one must have a Mayor</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft5">To fill the Civic chair,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft5">O Lud, I say,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">Was there no better day</div>
-      <div class="verse">To fix on, than November Ninth so shivery</div>
-      <div class="verse">And dull for showing off the Livery’s livery?</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_223" name="i_223">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_223.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">FINDING A MAY’R’S NEST.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft5">Dimming, alas!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft5">The Brazier’s brass,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Soiling th’ Embroiderers and all the Saddlers,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft5">Sopping the Furriers,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft5">Draggling the Curriers,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And making Merchant Tailors dirty paddlers:</div>
-      <div class="verse">Drenching the Skinners’ Company to the skin,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Making the crusty Vintner chiller,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">And turning the Distiller</div>
-      <div class="verse">To cold without instead of warm within;&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Spoiling the bran-new beavers</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Of Wax-chandlers and Weavers,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">Plastering the Plasterers and spotting Mercers,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Hearty November-cursers&mdash;</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">And showing Cordwainers and dapper Drapers</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Sadly in want of brushes and of scrapers;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Making the Grocer’s company not fit</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">For Company a bit;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Dying the Dyers with a dingy flood,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">Daubing incorporated Bakers,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">And leading the Patten-makers,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Over their very pattens in the mud,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft5">O Lud! O Lud! O Lud!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft2">“This is a sorry sight,”</div>
-      <div class="verse">To quote Macbeth&mdash;but oh, it grieves me quite,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To see your Wives and Daughters in their plumes&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">White plumes not white&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Sitting at open windows catching rheums,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">Not “Angels ever bright and fair,”</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">But angels ever brown and sallow,</div>
-      <div class="verse">With eyes&mdash;you cannot see above one pair,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">For city clouds of black and yellow&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And artificial flowers, rose, leaf, and bud,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft5">Such sable lilies</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft5">And grim daffodilies</div>
-      <div class="verse">Drooping, but not for drought, O Lud! O Lud!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">I may as well, while I’m inclined,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Just go through all the faults I find:</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Oh Lud! then, with a better air, say June,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Could’st thou not find a better tune</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">To sound with trumpets, and with drums,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Than “See the Conquering Hero comes,”</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">When he who comes ne’er dealt in blood!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Thy May’r is not a War Horse, Lud,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">That ever charged on Turk or Tartar,</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">And yet upon a march you strike</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">That treats him like&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">A little French if I may martyr&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Lewis Cart-Horse or Henry Carter!</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_225" name="i_225">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_225.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">ARMS FOUND.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft6">O Lud! I say</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft6">Do change your day</div>
-      <div class="verse">To some time when your Show can really show;</div>
-      <div class="verse">When silk can seem like silk, and gold can glow.</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Look at your Sweepers, how they shine in May</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Have it when there’s a sun to gild the coach,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">And sparkle in tiara&mdash;bracelet&mdash;brooch&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Diamond&mdash;or paste&mdash;of sister, mother, daughter;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">When grandeur really may be grand&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">But if thy Pageant’s thus obscured by land&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">O Lud! it’s ten times worse upon the water!</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Suppose, O Lud, to show its plan,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">I call, like Blue Beard’s wife, to sister Anne.</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Who’s gone to Beaufort Wharf with niece and aunt</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">To see what she can see&mdash;and what she can’t;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Chewing a saffron bun by way of cud,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">To keep the fog out of a tender lung,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">While perch’d in a verandah nicely hung</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">Over a margin of thy own black mud,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft7">O Lud!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Now Sister Anne, I call to thee,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft5">Look out and see:</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of course about the bridge you view them rally</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft5">And sally,</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">With many a wherry, sculler, punt, and cutter;</div>
-      <div class="verse">The Fishmongers’ grand boat, but not for butter,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">The Goldsmiths’ glorious galley,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of course you see the Lord Mayor’s coach aquatic,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">With silken banners that the breezes fan,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">In gold all glowing,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">And men in scarlet rowing,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Like Doge of Venice to the Adriatic;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Of course you see all this, O Sister Anne?</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">“No, I see no such thing!</div>
-      <div class="verse">I only see the edge of Beaufort Wharf,</div>
-      <div class="verse">With two coal lighters fasten’d to a ring:</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">And, dim as ghosts,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Two little boys are jumping over posts;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">And something farther off,</div>
-      <div class="verse">That’s rather like the shadow of a dog,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">And all beyond is fog.</div>
-      <div class="verse">If there be any thing so fine and bright,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To see it I must see by second sight.</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Call this a Show? It is not worth a pin!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">I see no barges row,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">No banners blow;</div>
-      <div class="verse">The show is merely a gallanty-show,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Without a lamp or any candle in.”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft2">But sister Anne, my dear,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Although you cannot see, you still may hear?</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of course you hear, I’m very sure of that,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">The “Water parted from the Sea” in C,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">Or “Where the Bee sucks,” set in B,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or Huntsman’s chorus from the Freyschutz frightful,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or Handel’s Water Music in A flat.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Oh music from the water comes delightful!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">It sounds as no where else it can:</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">You hear it first,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">In some rich burst,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">Then faintly sighing,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">Tenderly dying</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Away upon the breezes, Sister Anne.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft2">“There is no breeze to die on;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And all their drums and trumpets, flutes and harps,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Could never cut their way with ev’n three sharps</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Through such a fog as this, you may rely on.</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">I think, but am not sure, I hear a hum,</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Like a very muffled double drum,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">And then a something faintly shrill,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Like Bartlemy Fair’s old buz at Pentonville.</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">And now and then hear a pop,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">As if from Pedley’s Soda Water shop.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">I’m almost ill with the strong scent of mud,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">And, not to mention sneezing,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">My cough is, more than usual, teasing;</div>
-      <div class="verse">I really fear that I have chill’d my blood,</div>
-      <div class="verse">O Lud! O Lud! O Lud! O Lud! O Lud!”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_228" name="i_228">
-   <img class="mtop3" src="images/i_228.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption">THE HOUSE ADJOURNED.</p>
-</div>
-
-<h2 class="nopad" id="SONNET">SONNET.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">T<span class="smaller">HE</span> sky is glowing in one ruddy sheet;&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">A cry of fire! resounds from door to door;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And westward still the thronging people pour;&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">The turncock hastens to F. P. 6 feet,</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">And quick unlocks the fountains of the street;</div>
-      <div class="verse">While rumbling engines, with increasing roar,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Thunder along to luckless Number Four,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Where Mr. Dough makes bread for folks to eat.</div>
-      <div class="verse">And now through blazing frames, and fiery beams,</div>
-      <div class="verse">The Globe, the Sun, the Phœnix, and what not,</div>
-      <div class="verse">With gushing pipes throw up abundant streams,</div>
-      <div class="verse">On burning bricks, and twists, on rolls&mdash;too hot&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And scorching loaves,&mdash;as if there were no shorter</div>
-      <div class="verse">And cheaper way of making toast-and-water!</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="RONDEAU">RONDEAU.<br />
-<span class="s6">[EXTRACTED FROM A WELL-KNOWN ANNUAL.]</span></h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">O <span class="smaller">CURIOUS</span> reader, didst thou ne’er</div>
-      <div class="verse">Behold a worshipful Lord May’r</div>
-      <div class="verse">Seated in his great civic chair</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft9">&ensp;So dear?</div>
-      <div class="verse">Then cast thy longing eyes this way,</div>
-      <div class="verse">It is the ninth November day,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And in his new-born state survey</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft9">One here!</div>
-      <div class="verse">To rise from little into great</div>
-      <div class="verse">Is pleasant; but to sink in state</div>
-      <div class="verse">From high to lowly is a fate</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft10">Severe.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Too soon his shine is overcast,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Chill’d by the next November blast;</div>
-      <div class="verse">His blushing honours only last</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft9">One year!</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">He casts his fur and sheds his chains,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And moults till not a plume remains&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">The next impending May’r distrains</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft9">His gear.</div>
-      <div class="verse">He slips like water through a sieve&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Ah, could his little splendour live</div>
-      <div class="verse">Another twelvemonth&mdash;he would give</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft9">One ear!</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_230" name="i_230">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_230.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">FANCY PORTRAIT:&mdash;THE LORD MAYOR.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="LONDON_FASHIONS_FOR_NOVEMBER">LONDON FASHIONS FOR NOVEMBER.<br />
-<span class="s6">REMARKS.</span></h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p>N<span class="smaller">O</span> season has offered such <i>variétés</i> in costume as the early part
-of the present month. Fancy dresses of the most <i>outré</i> description
-have appeared, even in the streets. Short waists<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> and long, full
-sleeves and empty, broad skirts and narrow, whole skirts, half skirts,
-and none at all, have been indifferently worn. For the <i>Promenade</i>,
-rags and tatters of all kinds have been in much favour; very few
-buttons are worn; and the coats, waistcoats, and pantaloons, have
-been invariably padded and stuffed with hay or straw. We observed
-several <i>exquisites</i> making morning calls in scare-crow great-coats;
-the skirts, lappels, collars, and cuffs, picturesquely, but not too
-formally, jagged <i>à la Vandyke</i>. The prevailing colours&mdash;all colours
-at once. Wigs have been very general&mdash;both <i>en buzz</i> and <i>frizzé</i>;
-these have been commonly composed of deal shavings; but in some cases
-of tow, and sometimes horse-hair. For the evening party, a few squibs
-and crackers are stuck in the <i>perruque</i> or hat, and the boots and
-shoes are polished up with a little pitch or tar; sometimes a Catherine
-wheel has been added <i>en coquarde</i>. Frills, collars, and ruffles, of
-<i>papier coupé</i>, have entirely superseded those of cambric or lace, and
-shirts of every description are quite discarded. Paint has been in much
-request, and ruddle seems to have been preferred to <i>rouge</i>; patches
-are also<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> much worn, not on the countenance, but on the clothes; for
-these the favourite <i>matériel</i> is tartan, plush of any colour, or
-corduroy. Several dandies appeared on the 5th with gloves, but they
-are not essential requisites to be in the <i>ton</i>: canes are discarded;
-even a riding-whip would be reckoned to evince <i>mauvais goût</i>, but
-a half-penny bunch of matches “<i>à la main</i>” is indispensable to a
-fashionable aspirant. The old practice of being carried abroad in
-chairs has been universally revived; and it must be confessed, that it
-exhibits the Figure to much advantage.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_231" name="i_231">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_231.jpg"
-      alt="People dressed as scarecrows" /></a>
-</div>
-
-<p>Amongst the <i>Nouveautés</i>, we observed the following <i>Caractère</i>, as
-making a felicitous <i>début</i>. The coast was <i>à-la-militaire</i>, of the
-colour formerly so much in vogue under the name of <i>fumée de Londres</i>,
-turned up with <i>flamme d’enfer</i>. It was <i>garni</i> with very dead gold;
-and slashed <i>à l’Espagnole</i>, back and front. The pantaloons were
-equally <i>bizarre</i>; one leg being composed of Scotch tartan, and the
-other of blue striped bed-ticking, made very full, <i>en matelot</i>, in
-compliance with the prevailing taste for navals. The wig was made of
-green and white willow shavings, with a large link for a <i>queue</i>, tied
-on with a <i>nœud</i> of red tape. The hat, brown, somewhat darker than
-the Devonshire beaver, but disinclining to black. It had no brim, and
-was without a crown. A tarnished badge of the Phœnix Fire Office, on
-the bust, gave a <i>distingué</i> air to the whole Figure, which was going
-down Bond-street, and excited a sensation quite <i>à-l’envie</i> by its
-appearance in the World of Fashion.</p>
-
-<p>N.B.&mdash;We are requested to state that the above described figure
-was entirely invented and manufactured by little Solomon Levy, of
-Hollywell-street, Strand, who has a variety always on show, about the
-metropolis.</p>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="SYMPTOMS_OF_OSSIFICATION">SYMPTOMS OF OSSIFICATION.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="s5 center mbot1">“An indifference to tears, and blood, and human suffering, that
-could only belong to a <i>Boney-parte</i>.”&mdash;<i>Life of Napoleon.</i></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">T<span class="smaller">IME</span> was, I always had a drop</div>
-      <div class="verse">For any tale or sigh of sorrow;</div>
-      <div class="verse">My handkerchief I used to sop</div>
-      <div class="verse">Till often I was forced to borrow;</div>
-      <div class="verse">I don’t know how it is, but now</div>
-      <div class="verse">My eyelids seldom want a drying;</div>
-      <div class="verse">The doctors, p’rhaps, could tell me how&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">I fear my heart is ossifying!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">O’er Goethe how I used to weep,</div>
-      <div class="verse">With turnip cheeks and nose of scarlet,</div>
-      <div class="verse">When Werter put himself to sleep</div>
-      <div class="verse">With pistols kiss’d and clean’d by Charlotte;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Self-murder is an awful sin,</div>
-      <div class="verse">No joke there is in bullets flying,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But now at such a tale I grin&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">I fear my heart is ossifying!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">The Drama once could shake and thrill</div>
-      <div class="verse">My nerves, and set my tears a stealing,</div>
-      <div class="verse">The Siddons then could turn at will</div>
-      <div class="verse">Each plug upon the main of feeling;</div>
-      <div class="verse">At Belvidera now I smile,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And laugh while Mrs. Haller’s crying;</div>
-      <div class="verse">’Tis odd, so great a change of style&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">I fear my heart is ossifying!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">That heart was such&mdash;some years ago,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To see a beggar quite would shock it,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And in his hat I used to throw</div>
-      <div class="verse">The quarter’s savings of my pocket:</div>
-      <div class="verse">I never wish&mdash;as I did <i>then</i>!&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">The means from my own purse supplying,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To turn them all to gentlemen&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">I fear my heart is ossifying!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">We’ve had some serious things of late,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Our sympathies to beg or borrow,</div>
-      <div class="verse">New melo-drames, of tragic fate,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And acts and songs, and tales of sorrow;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Miss Zouch’s case, our eyes to melt,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And sundry actors sad good-bye-ing.</div>
-      <div class="verse">But Lord!&mdash;so little have I felt,</div>
-      <div class="verse">I’m sure my heart is ossifying!</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_POACHER">THE POACHER.<br />
-
-<span class="s6">A SERIOUS BALLAD.</span></h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza-heading">
-      <div class="verse">But a bold pheasantry, their country’s pride,</div>
-      <div class="verse">When once destroyed can never be supplied.</div>
-     <div class="verse mleft15">G<span class="smaller">OLDSMITH</span>.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">B<span class="smaller">ILL</span> B<span class="smaller">LOSSOM</span> was a nice young man,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And drove the Bury coach;</div>
-      <div class="verse">But bad companions were his bane,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And egg’d him on to poach.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">They taught him how to net the birds,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And how to noose the hare;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And with a wiry terrier,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">He often set a snare.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Each “shiny night” the moon was bright,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">To park, preserve, and wood</div>
-      <div class="verse">He went, and kept the game alive,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">By killing all he could.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_235" name="i_235">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_235.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">A BUCK-ANEER!</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Land-owners, who had rabbits, swore</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">That he had this demerit&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Give him an inch of warren, he</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Would take a yard of ferret.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">At partridges he was not nice;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And many, large and small,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Without Hall’s powder, without lead,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Were sent to Leaden-Hall.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">He did not fear to take a deer,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">From forest, park, or lawn;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And without courting lord or duke,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Used frequently to <i>fawn</i>.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Folks who had hares discovered snares&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">His course they could not stop:</div>
-      <div class="verse">No barber he, and yet he made</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Their hares a perfect crop.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">To pheasant he was such a foe,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">He tried the keeper’s nerves;</div>
-      <div class="verse">They swore he never seem’d to have</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1"><i>Jam</i> satis of <i>preserves</i>.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">The Shooter went to beat, and found</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">No sporting worth a pin,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Unless he tried the <i>covers</i> made</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Of silver, plate, or tin.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">In Kent the game was little worth,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">In Surrey not a button;</div>
-      <div class="verse">The Speaker said he often tried</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The <i>Manors</i> about <i>Sutton</i>.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">No county from his tricks was safe:</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">In each he tried his lucks,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And when the keepers were in <i>Beds</i>,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">He often was at <i>Bucks</i>.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">And when he went to <i>Bucks</i>, alas!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">They always came to <i>Herts</i>;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And even <i>Oxon</i> used to wish</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">That he had his deserts.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">But going to his usual <i>Hants</i>,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Old <i>Cheshire</i> laid his plots:</div>
-      <div class="verse">He got entrapp’d by legal <i>Berks</i>,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And lost his life in <i>Notts</i>.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_237" name="i_237">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_237.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">LUNAR CAUSTIC.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="SKETCHES_ON_THE_ROAD_SUDDEN_DEATH">SKETCHES ON THE ROAD.<br />
-
-<span class="s6">THE SUDDEN DEATH.</span></h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p>T<span class="smaller">HERE</span> are several objections to one-horse vehicles. With two wheels,
-they are dangerous; with four, generally cruel inventions, tasking one
-animal with the labour of two. And, in either case, should your horse
-think proper to die on the road you have no survivor to drag your
-carriage through the rest of the stage; or to be sent off galloping
-with the coachman on his back for a coadjutor.</p>
-
-<p>That was precisely Miss Norman’s dilemma.</p>
-
-<p>If a horse could be supposed to harbour so deadly a spite against his
-proprietor, I should believe that the one in question chose to vent
-his animosity by giving up the ghost just at the spot where it would
-cause most annoyance and inconvenience. For fourteen months past he
-had drawn the Lady in daily<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> airings to a point just short of the Binn
-Gate;&mdash;because that fifty yards further would have cost sixpence; a sum
-which Miss Norman could, or believed she could, but ill spare out of a
-limited income. At this very place, exactly opposite the tall elm which
-usually gave the signal for turning homeward, did Plantagenet prefer to
-drop down stone dead: as if determined that his mistress should have to
-walk every inch of it, to her own house.</p>
-
-<p>But Miss Norman never walked.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_238" name="i_238">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_238.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“TAKE CARE OF THE PENCE, AND THE POUNDS WILL TAKE
-  CARE OF THEMSELVES.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Pedestrianism was, in her opinion, a very vulgar exercise, unavoidable
-with the poor, and to some people, as Postmen, Bankers’ clerks,
-Hawkers, and the like, a professional mode of progression, but a bodily
-exertion very derogatory to persons of birth and breeding. So far was
-this carried, that she was once heard to declare, speaking of certain
-rather humble obsequies,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> “she would rather live for ever than have a
-walking funeral!” On another occasion, when the great performance of
-Captain Barclay, in walking a thousand miles in a thousand hours, was
-submitted to her opinion, she said “it was a step she did not approve.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_239" name="i_239">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_239.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">DESCENDED FROM THE CONQUEROR.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>It might be surmised from such declarations, that she was incapable of
-personal locomotion, through some original infirmity, for instance,
-such as results from the rickets; whereas, so far from allowing any
-deficiency on the part of her nurse or parents, in putting her to
-her feet, Miss Norman professed to have the perfect command of all
-her limbs, and would have felt extremely offended at a hint that she
-could not dance. It was quite another weakness than any bodily one
-which restricted her promenades, and made her feet almost as useless
-to her as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> those of the female Chinese. Pride was in fault; and partly
-her surname, for suggesting to one of her ancestors that he was a
-descendant of William the First of England: a notion, which, after
-turning his own head, had slightly crazed those of his successors, who
-all believed, as part and parcel of their inheritance, on the strength
-of the “Norman” and some dubious old pedigree, that the Conqueror was
-their great Progenitor.</p>
-
-<p>The hereditary arrogance engendered by this imaginary distinction, had
-successively displayed itself by outbreaks of different character,
-according to the temperament of the individual who happened to be head
-of the family: with Miss Norman, the last of <i>her</i> line, it took the
-form of a boast that every branch and twig of her illustrious tree had
-always ridden “in their own carriage.” I am not quite sure whether
-she did not push this pretension further back than the date of the
-invention of “little houses on wheels” would warrant; however, it held
-good, in local tradition, for several generations, although the family
-vehicle had gradually dwindled down from an ample coach to a chariot,
-a fly, and, finally, the one-inside sedan-chair upon wheels, which the
-sudden death of Plantagenet left planted fifty yards short of the Binn
-Gate. To glance at the whole set-out, nobody would ever have attributed
-high birth and inherent gentility to its owner. ’Twas never of a piece.
-For once that the body was new-painted, the arms were thrice refreshed
-and touched up, till the dingy vehicle, by the glaring comparison,
-looked more ancient than the quarterings. The crest was much oftener
-renewed than the hammer-cloth; and Humphrey, the coachman, evidently
-never got a new suit all at once. He had always old drab to bran-new
-bright sky-blue plush; or <i>vice versâ</i>. Sometimes a hat in its first
-gloss got the better of its old tarnished band; sometimes the fresh
-gold lace made the brown beaver look still more an antique. The same
-with the harness and the horse, which was sometimes a tall spanking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span>
-brute, who seemed to have outgrown the concern; at other times, a
-short pony-like animal, who had been put into the shafts by mistake.
-In short, the several articles seemed to belong the more especially
-to Miss Norman because they belonged so little to each other. A few
-minutes made a great change in her possessions, instead of a living
-horse, hight Plantagenet, she was proprietor of certain hundred-weights
-of dogs’-meat.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_241" name="i_241">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_241.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“WARRANTED QUIET TO RIDE OR DRIVE.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>It was just at this moment that I came up with my gig; and knowing
-something of the lady’s character, I pulled up in expectation of a
-scene. Leaving my own bay, who would stand as steady as a mute at
-death’s door, I proceeded to assist the coachman in extricating his
-horse; but the nag of royal line was stone dead: and I accompanied
-Humphrey to the carriage-door to make his report.</p>
-
-<p>A recent American author has described as an essential attribute
-of high birth and breeding in England, a certain sort of quakerly
-composure, in all possible sudden emergencies, such as an alarm of
-the house on fire, or a man falling into a fit by one’s side; in
-fact, the same kind of self-command which Pope<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> praises in a lady
-who is “mistress of herself, though China fall.” In this particular
-Miss Norman’s conduct justified her pretensions. She was mistress of
-herself, though her horse fell. She did not start&mdash;exclaim&mdash;put her
-head out of the window, or even let down the front glass: she only
-adjusted herself more exactly in the middle of the seat, drew herself
-bolt upright, and fixed her eyes on the back of the coach-box. In this
-posture Humphrey found her.</p>
-
-<p>“If you please, Ma’am, Planty-ginit be dead.” The lady acquiesced with
-the smallest nod ever made.</p>
-
-<p>“I’ve took off the collar, and the bit out, and got un out o’
-harness entirely; but he be as unanimate as his own shoes;” and the
-informant looked earnestly at the lady to observe the effect of the
-communication. But she never moved a muscle; and honest Humphrey was
-just shutting the coach-door, to go and finish the laying out of the
-corpse, when he was recalled.</p>
-
-<p>“Humphrey!”</p>
-
-<p>“What’s your pleasure, Ma’am?”</p>
-
-<p>“Remember, another time&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, Ma’am.”</p>
-
-<p>“When a horse of mine is deceased&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, Ma’am.”</p>
-
-<p>“Touch your hat.”</p>
-
-<p>The abashed coachman instantly paid up the salute in arrear. Unblessed
-by birthright with self-possession, he had not even the advantage of
-experience in the first families, where he might have learned a little
-from good example: he was a raw uncouth country servant, with the great
-merit of being cheap, whom Miss Norman had undertaken to educate; but
-he was still so far from proficient, that in the importance of breaking
-the death to his mistress, he had omitted one of those minor tokens of
-respect which she always rigorously exacted.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>It was now my own turn to come forward, and as deferentially as if
-she had been indeed the last of the Conqueror’s Normandy pippins,
-I tendered a seat in my chaise, which she tacitly declined, with a
-gracious gesture of head and hand.</p>
-
-<p>“If you please, Ma’am,” said Humphrey, taking care to touch his hat,
-and shutting his head into the carriage so that I might not overhear
-him, “he’s a respectable kind of gentleman enough, and connected with
-some of the first houses.”</p>
-
-<p>“The gentleman’s name?”</p>
-
-<p>“To be sure, Ma’am, the gentleman can’t help his name,” answered
-Humphrey, fully aware of the peculiar prejudices of his mistress; “but
-it be Huggins.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_243" name="i_243">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_243.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“ONE MAY GO FARTHER AND FARE WORSE”&mdash;AS THE
-  HORSE SAID</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>“Shut the door.”</p>
-
-<p>It appeared, on explanation with the coachman, that he had mistaken
-me for a person in the employ of the opulent firm of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> Naylor and
-Co., whose province it was to travel throughout Britain with samples
-of hardware in the box-seat of his gig. I did not take the trouble
-to undeceive him, but determining to see the end of the affair, I
-affected to hope that the lady would change her mind; and accordingly
-I renewed, from time to time, my offer of accommodation, which was
-always stiffly declined. After a tolerably long pause on all sides, my
-expectation was excited by the appearance of the W&mdash;&mdash; coach coming
-through the Binn Gate, the only public vehicle that used the road.
-At sight of the dead horse, the driver (the noted Jem Wade) pulled
-up&mdash;alighted&mdash;and standing at the carriage-door with his hat off, as if
-he knew his customer, made an offer of his services. But Miss Norman,
-more dignified than ever, waved him off with her hand. Jem became more
-pressing, and the lady more rigid. “She never rode,” she condescended
-to say, “in <i>public</i> vehicles.” Jem entreated again; but “she was
-accustomed to be driven by her <i>own</i> coachman.” It was in vain that in
-answer he praised the quietness of his team, the safety of his patent
-boxes, besides promising the utmost steadiness and sobriety on his
-own part. Miss Norman still looked perseveringly at the back of her
-coach-box; which, on an unlucky assurance that “he would take as much
-care of her as of his own mother,” she exchanged for a steady gaze at
-the side-window, opposite to the coachman, so long as he remained in
-the presence.</p>
-
-<p>“By your leave, Ma’am,” said Humphrey, putting his hand to his hat, and
-keeping it there, “Mr. Wade be a very civil-spoken careful whip, and
-his coach loads very respectable society. There’s Sir Vincent Ball on
-the box.”</p>
-
-<p>“If Sir Vincent Ball chooses to degrade himself, it is no rule for
-<i>me</i>,” retorted the lady, without turning her head; when, lo! Sir
-Vincent appeared himself, and politely endeavoured to persuade her out
-of her prejudices. It was useless. Miss Norman’s ancestors had one
-and all expressed a very decided<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> opinion against stage-coaches, by
-never getting into one; and “she did not feel disposed to disgrace a
-line longer than common, by riding in any carriage but her own.” Sir
-Vincent bowed and retreated. So did Jem Wade, without bowing, fervently
-declaring “he would never do the civil thing to the old female sex
-again!”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_245" name="i_245">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_245.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“JACK’S AS GOOD AS HIS MASTER.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>The stage rattled away at an indignant gallop; and we were left once
-more to our own resources. By way of passing the time, I thrice
-repeated my offers to the obdurate old maiden, and endured as many
-rebuffs. I was contemplating a fourth trial, when a signal was made
-from the carriage window, and Humphrey, hat in hand, opened the door.</p>
-
-<p>“Procure me a post-chaise.”</p>
-
-<p>“A po-shay!” echoed Humphrey, but, like an Irish echo, with some
-variation from his original&mdash;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span>“Lord help ye, Ma’am, there bean’t such a
-thing to be had ten miles round&mdash;no, not for love nor money. Why, bless
-ye, it be election time, and there bean’t coach, cart, nor dog-barrow,
-but what be gone to it!”</p>
-
-<p>“No matter,” said the mistress, drawing herself up with an air of lofty
-resignation. “I revoke my order; for it is far, very far from the kind
-of riding that I prefer. And Humphrey&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, Ma’am.”</p>
-
-<p>“Another time&mdash;”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, Ma’am.”</p>
-
-<p>“Remember once for all&mdash;”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, Ma’am.”</p>
-
-<p>“I do not choose to be blest, or the Lord to help me.”</p>
-
-<p>Another pause in our proceedings, during which a company of ragged
-boys, who had been black-berrying, came up, and planted themselves,
-with every symptom of vulgar curiosity, around the carriage. Miss
-Norman had now no single glass through which she could look without
-encountering a group of low-life faces staring at her with all their
-might. Neither could she help hearing some such shocking ill-bred
-remarks as, “Vy don’t the frizzle-vigged old Guy get into the gemman’s
-drag?” Still the pride of the Normans sustained her. She seemed to draw
-a sort of supplementary neck out of her bosom, and sat more rigidly
-erect than ever, occasionally favouring the circle, like a mad bull at
-bay, with a most awful threatening look, accompanied ever by the same
-five words:</p>
-
-<p>“I CHOOSE to be alone.”</p>
-
-<p>It is easy to say choose, but more difficult to have one’s choice. The
-blackberry boys chose to remain; and in reply to each congé only proved
-by a general grin how very much teeth are set off to advantage by
-purple mouths. I confess I took pity on the pangs even of unwarrantable
-pride, and urged my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> proposal again with some warmth; but it was
-repelled with absolute scorn.</p>
-
-<p>“Fellow, you are insolent.”</p>
-
-<p>“Quis Deus vult perdere,” thought I, and I determined to let her take
-her fate, merely staying to mark the result. After a tedious interval,
-in which her mind had doubtless looked abroad as well as inward, it
-appeared that the rigour of the condition, as to riding only in her own
-carriage, had been somewhat relaxed to meet the exigency of the case. A
-fresh tapping at the window summoned the obsequious Humphrey to receive
-orders.</p>
-
-<p>“Present my compliments at the Grove&mdash;and the loan of the chariot will
-be esteemed a favour.”</p>
-
-<p>“By your leave, Ma’am, if I may speak&mdash;”</p>
-
-<p>“You may <i>not</i>.”</p>
-
-<p>Humphrey closed the door, but remained for a minute gazing on the
-panel, at a blue arm, with a red carving-knife in its hand, defending a
-black and white rolling-pin. If he meditated any expostulation, he gave
-it up, and proceeded to drive away the boys, one of whom was astride
-on the dead Plantagenet, a second grinning through his collar, and two
-more preparing to play at horses with the reins. It seemed a strange
-mode enough that he took to secure the harness, by hanging it, collar
-and all, on his own back and shoulders; but by an aside to me, he
-explained the mystery, in a grumble,</p>
-
-<p>“It be no use in the world. I see the charrot set off for Lonnon.
-I shan’t go compli<i>ment</i>ing no Grove. I’se hang about a bit at the
-George, and compli<i>ment</i> a pint o’ beer.”</p>
-
-<p>Away he went, intending, no doubt, to be fully as good as his word: and
-I found the time grow tedious in his absence. I had almost made up my
-mind to follow his example, when hope revived at the sound of wheels,
-and up came a tax-cart carrying four insides, namely, two well-grown
-porkers, Master<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> Bardell the pig-butcher, and his foreman Samuel Slark,
-or, as he was more commonly called, Sam the Sticker. They were both
-a trifle “the worse for liquor,” if such a phrase might honestly be
-applied to men who were only a little more courageous, more generous,
-and civil and obliging to the fair sex, than their wont when perfectly
-sober. The Sticker, especially&mdash;in his most temperate moments a perfect
-sky-blue-bodied, red-faced, bowing and smirking pattern of politeness
-to females, was now, under the influence of good ale, a very Sir
-Calidore, ready to comfort and succour distressed damsels, to fight for
-them, live or die for them, with as much of the chivalrous spirit as
-remains in our times. They inquired, and I explained in a few words the
-lady’s dilemma, taking care to forewarn them, by relating the issue of
-my own attempts in her behalf.</p>
-
-<p>“Mayhap you warn’t half purlite or pressing enough,” observed Sam,
-with a side wink at his master. “It an’t a bit of a scrape, and a
-civil word, as will get a strange lady up into a strange gemman’s gig.
-It wants warmth-like, and making on her feel at home. Only let me
-alone with her, for a persuader, and I’ll have her up in our cart&mdash;my
-master’s that is to say&mdash;afore you can see whether she has feet or
-hoofs.”</p>
-
-<p>In a moment the speaker was at the carriage-door, stroking down his
-sleek forelocks, bowing, and using his utmost eloquence, even to the
-repeating most of his arguments twice over. She would be perfectly
-safe, he told her, sitting up between him and master, and quite
-pleasant, for the pigs would keep themselves to themselves at the back
-of the cart, and as for the horse, he was nothing but a good one,
-equal to twelve mile an hour&mdash;with much more to the same purpose. It
-was quite unnecessary for Miss Norman to say she had never ridden
-in a cart with two pigs and two butchers; and she did not say it.
-She merely turned away her head from the man, to be addressed by
-the master, at the other window, the glass of which she had just
-let<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> down for a little air. “A taxed cart, Madam,” he said, “mayn’t
-be exactly the wehicle, accustomed to, and so forth; but thereby,
-considering respective ranks of life, why, the more honour done to your
-humbles, which, as I said afore, will take every care, and observe
-the respectful; likewise in distancing the two hogs. Whereby, every
-thing considered, namely, necessity and so forth, I will make so bold
-as hope, Madam, excusing <i>more</i> pressing, and the like, and dropping
-ceremony for the time being, you will embrace us at once, as you shall
-be most heartily welcome to, and be considered, by your humbles, as a
-favour besides.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_249" name="i_249">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_249.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“NONE BUT THE BRAVE DESERVE THE FAIR.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>The sudden drawing up of the window, so violently as to shiver the
-glass, showed sufficiently in what light Miss Norman viewed Master
-Bardell’s behaviour. It was an unlucky smash, for it afforded what the
-tradesman would have called<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> “an advantageous opening” for pouring in a
-fresh stream of eloquence; and the Sticker, who shrewdly estimated the
-convenience of the breach, came round the back of the carriage, and as
-junior counsel “followed on the same side.” But he took nothing by the
-motion. The lady was invincible, or, as the discomfited pair mutually
-agreed, “as hard for to be <i>convinced into a cart</i>, as any thing on
-four legs.” The blackberry boys had departed, the evening began to
-close in, and no Humphrey made his appearance. The butcher’s horse was
-on the fret, and his swine grumbled at the delay. The master and man
-fell into consultation, and favoured me afterwards with the result, the
-Sticker being the orator. It was man’s duty, he said, to look after
-women, pretty or ugly, young or old; it was what we all came into the
-world to do, namely, to make ourselves comfortable and agreeable to
-the fair sex. As for himself, purtecting females was his nature, and
-he should never lie easy agin, if so be he left the lady on the road;
-and providing a female wouldn’t be purtected with her own free will,
-she ought to be forced to, like any other ’live beast unsensible of its
-own good. Them was his sentiments, and his master followed ’em up. They
-knowed Miss Norman, name and fame, and was both well-known respectable
-men in their lines, and I might ax about for their characters. Whereby,
-supposing I approved, they’d have her, right and tight, in their cart,
-afore she felt herself respectfully off her legs.</p>
-
-<p>Such were the arguments and the plan of the bull-headed pair. I
-attempted to reason with them, but my consent had clearly been only
-asked as a compliment. The lady herself hastened the catastrophe.
-Whether she had overheard the debate, or the amount of long pent-up
-emotion became too overwhelming for its barriers, I know not, but Pride
-gave way to Nature, and a short hysteric scream proceeded from the
-carriage. Miss Norman was in fits! We contrived to get her seated on
-the step of the vehicle, where the butchers supported her, fanning her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span>
-with their hats, whilst I ran off to a little pool near at hand for
-some cold water. It was the errand only of some four or five minutes,
-but when I returned, the lady, only half conscious, had been caught
-up, and there she sate, in the cart, right and tight, between the two
-butchers, instead of the two Salvages, or Griffins, or whatever they
-were, her hereditary supporters. They were already on the move. I
-jumped into my own gig, and put my horse to his speed; but I had lost
-my start, and when I came up with them, they were already galloping
-into W&mdash;&mdash;. Unfortunately her residence was at the further end of the
-town, and thither I saw her conveyed, struggling in the bright blue,
-and somewhat greasy, arms of Sam the Sticker, screaming in concert with
-the two swine, and answered by the shouts of the whole rabblement of
-the place, who knew Miss Norman quite as well, by sight, as “her own
-carriage!”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_251" name="i_251">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_251.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“I’M AFRAID I’M IN LOW COMPANY!”</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_252" name="i_252">
-   <img class="mtop3" src="images/i_252.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption">A MINOR CANON.</p>
-</div>
-
-<h2 class="nopad" id="I_CANNOT_BEAR_A_GUN">I CANNOT BEAR A GUN.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="s5 mbot1">“Timidity is generally reckoned an essential attribute of the fair
-sex, and this absurd notion gives rise to more false starts than
-a race for the Leger. Hence screams at mice, fits at spiders,
-faces at toads, jumps at lizards, flights from daddy longlegs,
-panics at wasps, <i>sauve qui peut</i> at sight of a gun. Surely, when
-the military exercise is made a branch of education at so many
-ladies’ academies, the use of the musket would only be a judicious
-step further in the march of mind. I should not despair, in a
-month’s practice, of making the most timid British female fond of
-small-arms.”&mdash;H<span class="smaller">INTS BY A</span> C<span class="smaller">ORPORAL</span>.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">I<span class="smaller">T</span> can’t be minced, I’m quite convinced</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">All girls are full of flam,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Their feelings fine and feminine</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Are nothing else but sham.</div>
-      <div class="verse">On all their tricks I need not fix,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">I’ll only mention one,</div>
-      <div class="verse">How many a Miss will tell you this,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">“I cannot bear a gun!”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">There’s cousin Bell can’t ’bide the smell</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Of powder&mdash;horrid stuff!</div>
-      <div class="verse">A single pop will make her drop,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">She shudders at a puff.</div>
-      <div class="verse">My Manton near, with aspen fear</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Will make her scream and run:</div>
-      <div class="verse">“It’s always so, you brute, you know</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">I cannot bear a gun!”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">About my flask I must not ask,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">I must not wear a belt,</div>
-      <div class="verse">I must not take a punch to make</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">My pellets, card or felt;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And if I just allude to dust,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Or speak of number one,</div>
-      <div class="verse">“I beg you’ll not&mdash;don’t talk of shot,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">I cannot bear a gun!”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Percussion cap I dare not snap,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">I may not mention Hall,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or raise my voice for Mr. Joyce,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">His wadding to recall;</div>
-      <div class="verse">At Hawker’s book I must not look,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">All shooting I must shun,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or else&mdash;“It’s hard, you’ve no regard,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">I cannot bear a gun!”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">The very dress I wear no less</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Must suit her timid mind,</div>
-      <div class="verse">A blue or black must clothe my back,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">With swallow-tails behind;</div>
-      <div class="verse">By fustian, jean, or velveteen,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Her nerves are overdone:</div>
-      <div class="verse">“Oh do not, John, put gaiters on,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">I cannot bear a gun!”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">E’en little James she snubs, and blames</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">His Liliputian train,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Two inches each from mouth to breach,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And charged with half a grain&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">His crackers stopp’d, his squibbing dropp’d.</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">He has no fiery fun,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And all thro’ her “How dare you, Sir?</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">I cannot bear a gun!”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_254" name="i_254">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_254.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“JAMES’S POWDER.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Yet Major Flint,&mdash;the Devil’s in’t!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">May talk from morn to night,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of springing mines, and twelves and nines,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And volleys left and right,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of voltigeurs and tirailleurs,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And bullets by the ton:</div>
-      <div class="verse">She never dies of fright, or cries</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">“I cannot bear a gun!”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">It stirs my bile to see her smile</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">At all his bang and whiz,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But if I talk of morning walk,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And shots as good as his,</div>
-      <div class="verse">I must not name the fallen game:</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">As soon as I’ve begun,</div>
-      <div class="verse">She’s in her pout, and crying out,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">“I cannot bear a gun!”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Yet, underneath the rose, her teeth</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Are false, to match her tongue:</div>
-      <div class="verse">Grouse, partridge, hares, she never spares,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Or pheasants, old or young&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">On widgeon, teal, she makes a meal,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And yet objects to none:</div>
-      <div class="verse">“What have I got, it’s full of shot!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">I cannot bear a gun!”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">At pigeon-pie she is not shy,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Her taste it never shocks,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Though they should be from Battersea,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">So famous for blue rocks;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Yet when I bring the very thing</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">My marksmanship has won,</div>
-      <div class="verse">She cries “Lock up that horrid cup,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">I cannot bear a gun!”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Like fool and dunce I got her once</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A box at Drury Lane,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And by her side I felt a pride</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">I ne’er shall feel again:</div>
-      <div class="verse">To read the bill it made her ill,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And this excuse she spun,</div>
-      <div class="verse">“Der Freyschütz, oh, seven shots; you know,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">I cannot bear a gun!”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Yet at a hint from Major Flint,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Her very hands she rubs,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And quickly drest in all her best,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Is off to Wormwood Scrubbs.</div>
-      <div class="verse">The whole review she sits it through,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">With noise enough to stun,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And never winks, or even thinks,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">“I cannot bear a gun!”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_256" name="i_256">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_256.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">WOOLWICH WARREN.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">She thus may blind the Major’s mind</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">In mock-heroic strife,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But let a bout at war break out,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And where’s the soldier’s wife,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To take his kit and march a bit</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Beneath a broiling sun?</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or will she cry, “My dear, good-bye,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">I cannot bear a gun?”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">If thus she doats on army coats,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And regimental cuffs,</div>
-      <div class="verse">The yeomanry might surely be</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Secure from her rebuffs;</div>
-      <div class="verse">But when I don my trappings on,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">To follow Captain Dunn,</div>
-      <div class="verse">My carbine’s gleam provokes a scream,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">“I cannot bear a gun.”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">It can’t be minced, I’m quite convinced,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">All girls are full of flam,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Their feelings fine, and feminine,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Are nothing else but sham;</div>
-      <div class="verse">On all their tricks I need not fix,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">I’ll only mention one,</div>
-      <div class="verse">How many a Miss will tell you this,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">“I cannot bear a gun!”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="TRIMMERS_EXERCISE">TRIMMER’S EXERCISE,<br />
-<span class="s6">FOR THE USE OF CHILDREN.</span></h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Here, come, Master Timothy Todd,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Before we have done you’ll look grimmer,</div>
-      <div class="verse">You’ve been spelling some time for the rod,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And your jacket shall know I’m a Trimmer.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">You don’t know your A from your B,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">So backward you are in your Primer;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Don’t kneel&mdash;you shall go on <i>my</i> knee,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">For I’ll have you to know I’m a Trimmer.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">This morning you hinder’d the cook,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">By melting your dumps in the skimmer;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Instead of attending your book,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">But I’ll have you to know I’m a Trimmer.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">To-day, too, you went to the pond,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And bathed, though you are not a swimmer:</div>
-      <div class="verse">And with parents so doting and fond&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">But I’ll have you to know I’m a Trimmer.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">After dinner you went to the wine,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And help’d yourself&mdash;yes, to a brimmer;</div>
-      <div class="verse">You couldn’t walk straight in a line,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">But I’ll make you to know I’m a Trimmer.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_258" name="i_258">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_258.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">FANCY PORTRAIT&mdash;MRS. TRIMMER.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">You kick little Tomkins about,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Because he is slighter and slimmer;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Are the weak to be thump’d by the stout?</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">But I’ll have you to know I’m a Trimmer.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Then you have a sly pilfering trick,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Your school-fellows call you the nimmer,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">I will cut to the bone if you kick!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">For I’ll have you to know I’m a Trimmer.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">To-day you made game at my back:</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">You think that my eyes are grown dimmer,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But I watch’d you, I’ve got a sly knack!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And I’ll have you to know I’m a Trimmer.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Don’t think that my temper is hot,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">It’s never beyond a slow simmer;</div>
-      <div class="verse">I’ll teach you to call me Dame Trot,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">But I’ll have you to know I’m a Trimmer.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Miss Edgeworth, or Mrs. Chapone,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Might melt to behold your tears glimmer;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Mrs. Barbauld would let you alone,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">But I’ll have you to know I’m a Trimmer.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_259" name="i_259">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_259.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">LITTLE JACK AND HIS TRIMMER.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="SOME_ACCOUNT_OF_WILLIAM_WHISTON">SOME ACCOUNT OF
-WILLIAM WHISTON.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="s5 center mbot2">“That boy is the brother of
-Pam&mdash;&mdash;.”&mdash;J<span class="smaller">OSEPH</span> A<span class="smaller">NDREWS</span>.</p>
-
-<p>“W<span class="smaller">ILLIAM</span> certainly <i>is</i> fond of whist!”</p>
-
-<p>This was an admission drawn, or extracted, as Cartwright would say,
-like a double tooth from the mouth of William’s mother; an amiable and
-excellent lady, who ever reluctantly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> confessed foibles in her family,
-and invariably endeavoured to exhibit to the world the sunny side of
-her children.</p>
-
-<p>There can be no possibility of doubt that William <i>was</i> fond of whist.
-He doted on it. Whist was his first passion&mdash;his first love; and in
-whist he experienced no disappointment. The two were made for each
-other.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_260" name="i_260">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_260.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">CARDY MUMS.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>William was one of a large bunch of children, and he never grew up. On
-his seventh birthday a relation gave him a miniature pack of cards, and
-made him a whist-player for life. Our bias dates much earlier than some
-natural philosophers suppose. I remember William, a mere child, being
-one day William of Orange, and objecting to a St. Michael’s because it
-had no pips.</p>
-
-<p>At school he was a total failure; except in reckoning the odd<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> tricks.
-He counted nothing by honours, and the schoolmaster said of his head
-what he has since said occasionally of his hand that “it held literally
-nothing.”</p>
-
-<p>At sixteen, after a long maternal debate between the black and red
-suits, William was articled to an attorney: but instead of becoming
-a respectable land-shark, he played double-dummy with the Common-Law
-Clerk, and was discharged on the 6th of November. The principal
-remonstrated with him on a breach of duty, and William imprudently
-answered that he was aware of his duty, like the ace of spades. Mr.
-Bitem immediately banged the door against him, and William, for the
-first time in his life&mdash;to use his own expression, “got a slam.”</p>
-
-<p>William having served his time, and, as he calls it, followed suit for
-five years, was admitted as an attorney, and began to play at that
-finessing game, the Law. <i>Short-hand</i> he still studied and practised;
-though more in parlours than in court.</p>
-
-<p>William at one period admired Miss Hunt, or Miss Creswick, or Miss
-Hardy, or Miss Reynolds; a daughter of one of the great card-makers, I
-forget which&mdash;and he cut for partners, but without “getting the Lady.”
-His own explanation was that he “<i>was discarded</i>.” He then paid his
-addresses to a Scotch girl, a Miss MacNab, but she professed religious
-scruples about cards, and he <i>revoked</i>. I have heard it said that she
-expected to match higher; indeed William used to say she “looked over
-his hand.”</p>
-
-<p>William is short, and likes shorts. He likes nothing of <i>longs</i>, but
-the St. John of them: and he only takes to <i>him</i>, because that saint
-is partial to a <i>rubber</i>. Whist seems to influence his face as well as
-form; it is like a knave of clubs. I sometimes fancy whist could not
-go on without William, and certainly William could not go on without
-whist. His whole conversation, except on cards, is wool-gathering;
-and on that subject is like wool&mdash;carded. He “speaks by the card,”
-and never gives equivocation a chance. At the Olympic once<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> he had a
-quarrel with a gentleman about <i>the lead</i> of Madame Vestris or Miss
-Sydney: he was required to give his card, and he gave the “Deuce of
-Hearts.” This was what he termed “calling out.”</p>
-
-<p>Of late years William only goes out like a bad rushlight, earlyish of
-a night, and quits every table that is not covered with green baize
-with absolute disgust. The fairies love by night to “<i>gambol</i> on the
-<i>green</i>,” and so does William, and he is constantly humming with great
-gusto,</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Come unto these yellow sands,</div>
-      <div class="verse">&ensp;<i>And then take hands</i>.”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p>The only verses, by the way, he ever got by heart. He never cared to
-play much with the Muses. They stick, he used to say, at Nine.</p>
-
-<p>William can sit longer&mdash;drink less&mdash;say as little&mdash;pay or receive as
-much&mdash;shuffle as well&mdash;and cut as deeply as any man on earth. You may
-leave him safely after dinner, and catch him at breakfast time without
-alteration of attitude or look. He is a small statue erected in honour
-of whist, and like Eloquence, “holds his hand well up.” He is content
-to ring the changes on thirteen cards a long Midsummer night; for he
-does not <i>play</i> at cards&mdash;he <i>works</i> at them, and considering the
-returns, for very low wages. William never was particularly lucky; but
-he bears the twos and threes with as much equanimity as any one, and
-seems, horticulturally speaking, to have grafted Patience upon Whist.
-I do not know whether it is the family motto, but he has upon his
-seal&mdash;with the great Mogul for a crest&mdash;the inscription of “Packs in
-Bello.”</p>
-
-<p>William is now getting old (nearly fifty-two), with an asthma;
-which he says makes him rather “weak in trumps.” He is preparing
-himself accordingly to “take down his score,” and has made his
-will, bequeathing all he has or has not, to a whist club. His
-funeral he directs to be quite private, and his grave<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span>stone a plain
-one, and especially “that there be no cherubims carved thereon,
-forasmuch,”&mdash;says this characteristic document, “that they never hold
-Honours.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_263" name="i_263">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_263.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">A DOUBLE AT LONG’S.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_FOX_AND_THE_HEN">THE FOX AND THE HEN.<br />
-
-<span class="s6">A FABLE.</span></h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="center mbot1">Speaking within <i>compass</i>, as to fabulousness I
-prefer <i>Southcote</i> to <i>Northcote</i>.&mdash;P<span class="smaller">IGROGROMITUS</span>.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">O<span class="smaller">NE</span> day, or night, no matter where or when,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Sly Reynard, like a foot-pad, laid his pad</div>
-      <div class="verse">Right on the body of a speckled Hen,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Determined upon taking all she had;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">And like a very bibber at his bottle,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Began to draw the claret from her throttle;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of course it put her in a pretty pucker.</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">And with a scream as high</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft6">As she could cry,</div>
-      <div class="verse">She called for help&mdash;she had enough of sucker.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Dame Partlet’s scream</div>
-      <div class="verse">Waked, luckily, the house-dog from his dream,</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">And with a savage growl</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">In answer to the fowl,</div>
-      <div class="verse">He bounded forth against the prowling sinner.</div>
-      <div class="verse">And, uninvited, came to the Fox Dinner.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_264" name="i_264">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_264.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">NATIVES OF THE SILLY ISLANDS.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Sly Reynard, heedful of the coming doom,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Thought, self-deceived,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">He should not be perceived,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Hiding his <i>brush</i> within a neighbouring <i>broom</i>;</div>
-      <div class="verse">But quite unconscious of a Poacher’s snare,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">And caught in copper noose,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">And looking like a goose,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Found that his fate “had hung upon a <i>hare</i>;”</div>
-      <div class="verse">His tricks and turns were rendered of no use to him,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And, worst of all, he saw old surly Tray</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Coming to play</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Tray-Deuce with him.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Tray, an old Mastiff bred at Dunstable,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Under his Master, a most special constable,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Instead of killing Reynard in a fury,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Seized him for legal trial by a Jury;</div>
-      <div class="verse">But Juries&mdash;Æsop was a sheriff then&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Consisted of twelve Brutes and not of Men.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">But first the Elephant sat on the body&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">I mean the Hen&mdash;and proved that she was dead,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">To the veriest fool’s head</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Of the Booby and the Noddy.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Accordingly, the Stork brought in a bill</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Quite true enough to kill;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And then the Owl was call’d&mdash;for mark,</div>
-      <div class="verse">The Owl can witness in the dark.</div>
-      <div class="verse">To make the evidence more plain,</div>
-      <div class="verse">The Lynx connected all the chain.</div>
-      <div class="verse">In short there was no quirk or quibble</div>
-      <div class="verse">At which a legal Rat could nibble;</div>
-      <div class="verse">The Culprit was as far beyond hope’s bounds,</div>
-      <div class="verse">As if the Jury had been <i>packed</i>&mdash;of hounds.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Reynard, however, at the utmost nick,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Is seldom quite devoid of shift and trick;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Accordingly our cunning Fox,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Through certain influence, obscurely channel’d,</div>
-      <div class="verse">A friendly Camel got into the box,</div>
-      <div class="verse">When ’gainst his life the Jury was impanel’d.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Now, in the Silly Isles such is the law,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">If Jurors should withdraw,</div>
-      <div class="verse">They are to have no eating and no drinking,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Till all are starved into one way of thinking.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Thus Reynard’s Jurors, who could not agree,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Were lock’d up strictly, without bit or mummock,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Till every beast that only had <i>one</i> stomach,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Bent to the Camel who was blest with <i>three</i>.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">To do them justice, they debated</div>
-      <div class="verse">From four till ten, while dinner waited</div>
-      <div class="verse">When thirst and hunger got the upper,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And each inclined to mercy, and hot supper:</div>
-      <div class="verse">“Not guilty” was the word, and Master Fox</div>
-      <div class="verse">Was freed to murder other hens and cocks.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft9 s5">MORAL.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft1">What moral greets us by this tale’s assistance</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">But that the Solon is a sorry Solon,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Who makes the full stop of a Man’s existence</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Depend upon a <i>Colon</i>?</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_266" name="i_266">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_266.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">PRO BONO PUBLICO.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_COMET">THE COMET.<br />
-
-<span class="s6">AN ASTRONOMICAL ANECDOTE.</span></h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="s5 center mbot1">“I cannot fill up a blank better than with a short
-history of this self-same <i>Star</i>ling.”&mdash;S<span class="smaller">TERNE</span>’<span class="smaller">S</span> S<span class="smaller">ENTIMENTAL</span>
-J<span class="smaller">OURNEY</span>.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A<span class="smaller">MONGST</span> professors of astronomy,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Adepts in the celestial economy,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The name of H*******l’s very often cited,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And justly so, for he is hand and glove</div>
-      <div class="verse">With ev’ry bright intelligence above;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Indeed, it was his custom so to stop,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Watching the stars upon the house’s top,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">That once upon a time he got be-knighted.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">In his observatory thus coquetting</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">With Venus&mdash;or with Juno gone astray,</div>
-      <div class="verse">All sublunary matters quite forgetting</div>
-      <div class="verse">In his flirtations with the winking stars,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Acting the spy&mdash;it might be upon Mars&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">A new André;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or, like a Tom of Coventry, sly peeping,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft5">At Dian sleeping;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft5">Or ogling thro’ his glass</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft5">Some heavenly lass</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Tripping with pails along the Milky Way;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or looking at that Wain of Charles the Martyrs:&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Thus he was sitting, watchman of the sky,</div>
-      <div class="verse">When lo! a something with a tail of flame</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">Made him exclaim,</div>
-      <div class="verse">“<i>My</i> stars!”&mdash;he always put that stress on <i>my</i>&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft5">“<i>My</i> stars and garters!”</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">“A comet, sure as I’m alive!</div>
-      <div class="verse">A noble one as I should wish to view;</div>
-      <div class="verse">It can’t be Halley’s though, <i>that</i> is not due</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Till eighteen thirty-five.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Magnificent!&mdash;how fine his fiery trail!</div>
-      <div class="verse">Zounds! ’tis a pity, though he comes unsought&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Unask’d&mdash;unreckon’d,&mdash;in no human thought&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">He ought&mdash;he ought&mdash;he ought</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">To have been caught</div>
-      <div class="verse">With scientific salt upon his tail!”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_268" name="i_268">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_268.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“POSSE COMETATIS.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“I look’d no more for it, I do declare,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">Than the Great Bear!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">As sure as Tycho Brahe is dead,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">It really enter’d in my head</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">No more than Berenice’s Hair!”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Thus musing, Heaven’s Grand Inquisitor</div>
-      <div class="verse">Sat gazing on the uninvited visitor</div>
-      <div class="verse">Till John, the serving-man, came to the upper</div>
-      <div class="verse">Regions, with “Please your Honour, come to supper.”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Supper! Good John, to-night I shall not sup</div>
-      <div class="verse">Except on that phenomenon&mdash;look up!”</div>
-      <div class="verse">“Not sup!” cried John, thinking with consternation</div>
-      <div class="verse">That supping on a <i>star</i> must be <i>star</i>vation,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">Or ev’n to batten</div>
-      <div class="verse">On Ignes Fatui would never fatten,</div>
-      <div class="verse">His visage seem’d to say,&mdash;that very odd is,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">But still his master the same tune ran on,</div>
-      <div class="verse">“I can’t come down,&mdash;go to the parlour, John,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And say I’m supping with the heavenly bodies.”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“The heavenly bodies!” echoed John, “Ahem!”</div>
-      <div class="verse">His mind still full of famishing alarms,</div>
-      <div class="verse">“’Zooks, if your Honour sups with <i>them</i>,</div>
-      <div class="verse">In helping, somebody must make long arms!”</div>
-      <div class="verse">He thought his master’s stomach was in danger,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But still in the same tone replied the Knight,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">“Go down, John, go, I have no appetite;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Say I’m engaged with a celestial stranger.”&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Quoth John, not much au fait in such affairs,</div>
-      <div class="verse">“Wouldn’t the stranger take a bit down stairs?”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“No,” said the master, smiling, and no wonder,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">At such a blunder,</div>
-      <div class="verse">“The stranger is not quite the thing you think,</div>
-      <div class="verse">He wants no meat or drink,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And one may doubt quite reasonably whether</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">He has a mouth,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Seeing his head and tail are joined together.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Behold him,&mdash;there he is, John, in the South.”</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">John look’d up with his portentous eyes,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Each rolling like a marble in its socket.</div>
-      <div class="verse">At last the fiery tad-pole spies,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And, full of Vauxhall reminiscence, cries,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">“A rare good rocket!”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“A what! A rocket, John! Far from it!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft3">What you behold, John, is a comet;</div>
-      <div class="verse">One of those most eccentric things</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">That in all ages</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">Have puzzled sages</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">And frighten’d kings;</div>
-      <div class="verse">With fear of change that flaming meteor, John,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Perplexes sovereigns, throughout its range”&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">“Do he?” cried John;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft4">“Well, let him flare on,</div>
-      <div class="verse"><i>I</i> haven’t got no sovereigns to change!”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_270" name="i_270">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_270.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">THE HARVEST MOON.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="LITERARY_REMINISCENCES_III">LITERARY REMINISCENCES.<br />
-
-<span class="s6">No. III.</span></h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p>M<span class="smaller">Y</span> first acquaintance with the press&mdash;a memorable event in an author’s
-experience&mdash;took place in Scotland. Amongst the temporary sojourners
-at our boarding-house, there came a legal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> antiquarian who had been
-sent for from Edinburgh, expressly to make some unprofitable researches
-amongst the mustiest of the civic records. It was my humour to think,
-that in Political as well as Domestic Economy, it must be better to
-sweep the Present than to dust the Past; and certain new brooms were
-recommended to the Town Council in a quizzing letter, which the then
-editor of the Dundee Advertiser or Chronicle, thought fit to favour
-with a prominent place in his columns. “’Tis pleasant sure,” sings
-Lord Byron, “to see one’s self in print,” and according to the popular
-notion I ought to have been quite up in my stirrups, if not standing
-on the saddle, at thus seeing myself, for the first strange time, set
-up in type. Memory recalls, however, but a very moderate share of
-exaltation, which was totally eclipsed, moreover, by the exuberant
-transports of an accessory before the fact, whom, methinks, I still
-see in my mind’s eye, rushing out of the printing-office with the wet
-sheet steaming in his hand, and fluttering all along the High Street,
-to announce breathlessly that “we were in.” But G. was an indifferent
-scholar, even in English, and therefore thought the more highly of
-this literary feat. It was this defective education, and the want of
-a proper vent for his abundant love nonsense in prose or verse, that
-probably led to the wound he subsequently inflicted on his own throat,
-but which was luckily remedied by “a stitch in time.” The failure of
-a tragedy is very apt to produce something like a comedy, and few
-afterpieces have amused me more than the behaviour of this Amicus
-Redivivus, when, thus dramatising the saying of “cut and come again,”
-he made what ought to have been a posthumous appearance amongst his
-friends. In fact, and he was ludicrously alive to it, he had placed
-himself for all his supplementary days in a false position. Like the
-old man in the fable, after formally calling upon Death to execute
-a general release, he had quietly resumed his fardel, which he bore
-about, with exactly the uneasy ridiculous air of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> fine-would be
-gentleman, who is sensitively conscious that he is carrying a bundle.
-For the sake of our native sentimentalists who profess dying for love,
-as well as the foreign romanticists who affect a love for dying, it may
-not be amiss to give a slight sketch of the bearing of a traveller who
-had gone through half the journey. I had been absent some months, and
-was consequently ignorant of the affair, when lo! on my return to the
-town, the very first person who accosted me in the market-place was our
-felo-de-se; and truly, no Bashful Man, “with all his blushing honours
-thick upon him,” in the presence of a damp stranger, could have been
-more divertingly sheepish, and awkwardly backward in coming forward
-as to manner and address. Indeed, something or the embarrassment of
-a fresh introduction might naturally be felt by an individual, thus
-beginning again, as the lawyers say, <i>de novo</i>, and renewing ties he
-had virtually cast off. The guilty hand was as dubiously extended to
-me as if it had been a dyer’s,&mdash;its fellow meanwhile performing sundry
-involuntary motions and manipulations about his cravat, as if nervously
-mistrusting the correctness of the ties or the stability of a buckle.
-As for his face, there was a foolish, deprecatory smile upon it that
-would have puzzled the pencil of Wilkie; and even Liston himself could
-scarcely have parodied the indescribable croak with which, conscious of
-an unlucky notoriety, he inquired “if I had heard”&mdash;here, a short husky
-cough&mdash;“of anything particular?”</p>
-
-<p>“Not a word,” was the answer.</p>
-
-<p>“Then you don’t know”(&mdash;more fidgeting about the neck, the smile
-rather sillier, the voice more guttural, and the cough worse than
-ever)&mdash;“then you don’t know”&mdash;but, like Macbeth’s amen, the confession
-literally stuck in the culprit’s throat; and I was left to learn, an
-hour afterwards, and from another source, that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> “Jemmy G*** had <i>fought
-a duel with himself</i>, and cut his own weazand, about a lady.”</p>
-
-<p>For my own part, with the above figure, and all its foolish features
-vividly imprinted on my memory, I do not think that I could ever
-seriously attempt “what Cato did, and Addison approved,” in my own
-person. On the contrary, it seems to me that the English moralist gave
-but an Irish illustration of “a brave man struggling with the storms
-of fate,” by representing him as wilfully scuttling his own hold,
-and going at once to the bottom. As for the Censor, he plainly laid
-himself open to censure, when he used a naked sword as a stomachic&mdash;a
-very sorry way, by the way, when weary of conjectures, of enjoying
-the benefit of the doubt, and for which, were I tasked to select an
-inscription for his cenotaph, it should be the exclamation of Thisby,
-in the Midsummer Night’s Dream&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“This is old Ninny’s tomb.”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p><i>Mais revenons à nos moutons</i>, as the wolf said to her cubs. The
-reception of my letter in the Dublin Newspaper encouraged me to forward
-a contribution to the Dundee Magazine, the Editor of which was kind
-enough, as Winifred Jenkins says, to “wrap my bit of nonsense under
-his Honour’s Kiver,” without charging anything for its insertion.
-Here was success sufficient to turn a young author at once into “a
-scribbling miller,” and make him sell himself, body and soul, after
-the German fashion, to that minor Mephistopheles, the Printer’s Devil!
-Nevertheless, it was not till years afterwards, and the lapse of
-term equal to an ordinary apprenticeship, that the Imp in question
-became really my Familiar. In the meantime, I continued to compose
-occasionally, and, like the literary performances of Mr. Weller Senior,
-my lucubrations were generally committed to paper, not in what is
-commonly called written hand, but an imitation of print. Such a course
-hints suspiciously of type and antetype, and a longing eye to the Row,
-whereas, it was adopted simply to make the reading more easy, and
-thus<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> enable me the more readily to form a judgment of the effect of
-my little efforts. It is more difficult than may be supposed to decide
-on the value of a work in MS., and especially when the handwriting
-presents only a swell mob of bad characters, that must be severally
-examined and re-examined to arrive at the merits or demerits of the
-case. Print settles it, as Coleridge used to say; and to be candid, I
-have more than once reversed, or greatly modified a previous verdict,
-on seeing a rough proof from the press. But, as Editors too well know,
-it is next to impossible to retain the tune of a stanza, or the drift
-of an argument, whilst the mind has to scramble through a patch of
-scribble scrabble, as stiff as a gorse cover. The beauties of the
-piece will as naturally appear to disadvantage through such a medium
-as the features of a pretty woman through a bad pane of glass; and
-without doubt, many a tolerable article has been consigned hand over
-head to the Balaam Box for want of a fair copy. Wherefore, O ye Poets
-and Prosers, who aspire to write in Miscellanies, and above all, O ye
-palpitating Untried, who meditate the offer of your maiden essays to
-established periodicals, take care, pray ye take care, to cultivate a
-good, plain, bold, round text. Set up Tomkins as well as Pope or Dryden
-for a model, and have an eye to your pothooks. Some persons hold that
-the best writers are those who write the best hands, and I have known
-the conductor of a magazine to be converted by a crabbed MS. to the
-same opinion. Of all things, therefore, be legible; and to that end,
-practise in penmanship. If you have never learned, take six lessons of
-Mr. Carstairs. Be sure to buy the best paper, the best ink, the best
-pens, and then sit down and do the best you can; as the schoolboys
-do&mdash;put out your tongue, and take pains. So shall ye haply escape the
-rash rejection of a jaded editor; so, having got in your hand, it is
-possible that your head may follow; and so, last not least, ye may
-fortunately avert those awful mistakes of the press which sometimes
-ruin<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> a poet’s sublimest effusion, by pantomimically transforming his
-roses into noses, his angels into angles, and all his happiness into
-pappiness.</p>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_OCEAN">THE OCEAN.<br />
-
-<span class="s6">CONSIDERED PER SE.</span></h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="s5 center mbot2">“A man whom both the waters and the wind, in that vast tennis-court
-have made the ball for them to play upon, entreats you pity
-him.”&mdash;P<span class="smaller">ERICLES</span>.</p>
-
-<p>I<span class="smaller">T</span> was during a voyage to Margate, many summers ago&mdash;before steam
-<i>was</i>&mdash;that the little episode occurred which I am going to relate, by
-way of text, to some observations on the ocean.</p>
-
-<p>The importance of the Mariner’s Compass to the sailor is as well
-known universally as the utility of the little one-eyed instrument,
-for which Whitechapel is so famous, to the tailor: but its mode of
-action, and the manner of its application, must be far less generally
-understood. Whether the plougher of the deep mends his checked shirts
-with the Needle, or sews the canvas into sails with it, or uses it,
-after a battle, to extract the splinters from his hard tarry hand,
-are speculations likely enough to be entertained by the plougher of
-the land; at least by those clod-<i>compelling</i> turners of the furrows,
-mid-county born and bred, who, despite of their predilection for such
-naval ballads as Tom Bowling and Jack Junk, have never set their
-simple eyes on ship or sailor, or the sea which they subdue. To many
-Londoners even, who jostle the tar in the streets, and behold tier
-after tier of masted vessels from their lower Bridge,&mdash;who have
-perchance stood and stared at the Compass itself in some shop-window
-of Leadenhall, or the still more maritime Minories, the Card with
-its <i>Card</i>-inal Points, is an undeciphered hierogly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span>phic. It did not
-violently surprise me, therefore, to see a simple-looking creature of
-this latter class go and take a long wondering look into the binnacle,
-like a child peeping at the tortoise in an Italian’s show-box; and
-doubtless, to his callow apprehension, the veering Guide was as much
-a thing of life and instinct as the outlandish reptile to the urchin.
-It was not until after a tedious poring at it&mdash;long enough, if there
-were any truth in animal magnetism, for the Needle and the Man to
-have understood one another by mutual sympathy&mdash;that the wonderer
-made up to the steersman, and begged for an elucidation of the marine
-mystery. Fortunately for the querist, the helmsman, along with all the
-characteristic good-nature of his fraternity, had none of the coyness,
-as to the secrets of the craft, with which the ripe sailor is apt to
-treat the raw voyager; perhaps not without cause. The nautical truths,
-masonic, may deserve to be obtained by degrees of probation: in the
-present case the unreserved communication of occult knowledge led to
-anything but a satisfactory result. No one could take more pains&mdash;call
-them pleasures rather&mdash;than the honest man at the wheel, to explain the
-use and properties of the Compass: he boxed it again and again for the
-benefit of the gaping neophyte; a benevolent smile, and the twinkling
-of his blue eyes, declaring that he felt amply repaid by the supposed
-proficiency of his pupil,&mdash;when, all of a sudden, his well-earned
-pride was dashed to the deck by the pupil’s turning away on his heel,
-with a hunch of his shoulders, a blank look, and a dissatisfied grunt,
-exclaiming,</p>
-
-<p>“Well, arter all, I don’t see how the turning round of that ’ere little
-needle can move about the rudder!”</p>
-
-<p>I should have been no Christian man, but a brute beast, had I not
-sympathised with the feelings of the steersman. Contempt took the lead.
-All “the dismal hiss of universal scorn,” ascribed to Milton’s devils,
-seemed condensed into his whistle. Next came Resentment, wishing back
-the Cockney-Tailor to his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> shop-board, sitting on his own needle&mdash;and
-then came Pity, inducing the milder reflection,</p>
-
-<p>“I wonder the poor gentleman’s friends allows him to go about by
-himself!”</p>
-
-<p>I doubt whether the force of contempt and pity could further go: and
-yet&mdash;to confess a truth&mdash;shall I?&mdash;dare I?&mdash;say, that to the intense
-sea-ignorance which incurred the scorn, anger, and compassion of our
-Palinurus, I look back with E<span class="smaller">NVY</span>?</p>
-
-<p>Methinks, every British Heart of Oak recoils, and every British head of
-the same material shakes itself, at such an avowal! Every lip that ever
-helped to chorus Rule Britannia, curls itself up&mdash;noses which never
-sniffed sea-weed tacitly snub me,&mdash;eyes which never glimpsed the ocean
-avert themselves in disgust. I am bespattered with salt-water oaths
-and tobacco-juice. The Thames Yacht Clubs, on the strength of having
-learned to bellow “Elm a-lee!”&mdash;“Ard-hup!” and “Oist-away!” agree to
-run me down. The very clerks of the Navy Pay Office propose to seize me
-up to the dingy fresh-water Neptune in their fore-court. Captain Basil
-Hall swears, on his best anchor-button, to keel-haul me daily, for six
-months, in “the element which never tires.” The last of the Dibdins
-asks for my card. Campbell flares up with the “Meteor Flag of England,”
-and vows to knock me down with its staff;&mdash;nay, our Sailor King himself
-repudiates me, as a subject, for not relishing his <i>High Seas</i>!</p>
-
-<p>It can’t be helped. When one is confessing, there is no place under
-the sun like the Ocean for “making a clean breast of it:”&mdash;and am
-not I here staggering and tumbling&mdash;soberly tipsy&mdash;aboard a lubberly
-Dutch-built hull, becalmed in a heavy swell&mdash;dreaming, when I can
-sleep, that I am a barrel-churn, revolving with my inside full of
-half-turned cream or incipient butter;&mdash;and finding, when I awake, that
-dreams do not go so altogether by contraries?</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>If this perpetual motion hold, the cargo of cheeses we shipped at
-Dordrecht, flat as single Glo’sters, will be delivered in London
-spherical as bowls! The Jung Vrouw herself, before she reaches the
-Nore, will be a washing-tub! I have doubts whether the salt beef,
-produced at this day’s luncheon, was, originally, a round. The leathern
-conveniency that I brought aboard, a fair and square trunk, is already
-almost a portmanteau;&mdash;and, what is worse, every several morsel I have
-swallowed this blessed day without bliss, seems rolling itself into
-a bolus or a pill,&mdash;whether of opium or ipecacuanha, I leave you to
-divine. If the calm should continue, I may become&mdash;who knows?&mdash;a Ball
-myself&mdash;a Master Biffin! Every half-hour, on feeling my knees and
-elbows, I find joints by this friction losing some of their asperities,
-and getting obtuser. A little more, and I shan’t have a good point
-about me!</p>
-
-<p>Is such as this a season to be squeamishly retentive in delivering
-one’s sentiments? Or, rather, is not open candour inevitable; seeing
-that you cannot have any reserve even with the merest stranger? It
-is impossible to keep your feelings to yourself. In spite, then, of
-Britannia, the Yacht Club, the Navy Pay,&mdash;of Dibdin, Campbell, and
-Basil Hall,&mdash;of the Lords of the Admiralty, with Portsmouth, Devonport,
-and Gosport, to boot&mdash;in spite of the Royal William, nay, in spite of
-my very self, the truth will out!&mdash;not sneaking out, or stepping out,
-or backing out, but bolting out, in a plain unequivocal straightforward
-style. I DO envy the simple man, with his sheer ignorance about rudders
-and compasses. I <i>do</i> detest and abominate the ocean&mdash;or to phrase it
-more mildly&mdash;the sea and I cannot agree with each other&mdash;there is sure
-to be falling-out between us&mdash;we can never be bosom friends.</p>
-
-<p>The Marine Society must despise me for it; my Elder Brethren of the
-Trinity House will long to dispose of me as Joseph was made <i>away with</i>
-by <i>his</i> elder Brethren; Boatswain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> Smith will preach, write Tracts
-and distribute them, against me: the Greenwich Pensioners will bind
-themselves by a round robin to kick me with me with their knottiest
-legs; Long Tom Coffin himself will be for fetching me, with a shroud in
-one hand, and a dead-light in the other; but I cannot eat my words.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_279" name="i_279">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_279.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">SEE-SAW.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>It is no time, when you cannot keep your legs, to “stand bandying
-compliments with your sovereign,” that is, Neptune. If he were present
-at this moment, in this cabin, I would tell him, from this my seat on
-its floor, that he might very much improve his paternal estate, to
-wit, by levelling, and still more by draining it. I would flatly say
-to him, lying flat on my face as it now happens, that a few little
-gravel walks, merely across and across it, would be of rare advantage
-both for show and use. For ’tis a sorry pleasure-garden that is all
-fish-pond; and, finally, I would broadly hint to him, from the broad
-of my back, as I am at this present&mdash;&mdash; But this is bullying Taurus
-behind his back. There is no sea-god present, only the Skipper. How he
-skips in such weather, give him his pick of all the ropes in the ship,
-is a miracle I would fain see ere I believe in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> it. For my own part I
-cannot even step deliberately over a thread. Perhaps, without going too
-curiously into the Doctrine of Predestination, as regards the soul, it
-may hold good as concerns the body. Undoubtedly there be some men born
-to sit fast upon horses; others to fall off therefrom as if they had
-soaped saddles. Some to slide and skate upon the ice; others only to
-slip, straddle, and sprawl upon it. Some to walk, or at least waddle,
-on ships’ decks; others to flop, flounder, wallow, and grovel thereon.
-That is my destiny. None can be more safe on the Serpentine, or sure
-in the saddle;&mdash;but Fate, long before my great-great-great-grandfather
-was put to his feet, forbade me sea-legs. An average pedestrian on
-land, on the caulked plank I am a born cripple, hopeless of cure. Put
-me apprentice to the Goodwin, or the Dudgeon Light, at the end of my
-term you shall find me as unsafe on my soles as when I first paid my
-footing. Even now, whilst Hans Vandergroot and his crew are comfortably
-promenading, I rock and totter, balancing one end against the other,
-like a great rickety babe, until, after some posturing and scrambling,
-I trip up over nothing, and fall flat on everything. An earthquake in
-London, when its streets are what is called greasy, could not more
-puzzle my centre of gravity; if, indeed, I was not born a mathematical
-monster, devoid of that material point!</p>
-
-<p>By way of clincher, Fate, who never does things by halves, whilst
-foredooming me incapable of standing my ground at sea, has also denied
-me the power of settling it. A camp-stool is sure to decamp with me; a
-chair, as if it stood on Siberian ice, suddenly throws itself on its
-back, and behold me in an extempore sledge! Barrels roll from under
-me; coils of rope shuffle me off. Even on the plain bare hard deck,
-or cabin floor, I throw demi-summersets, as if I had been returned to
-Parliament to represent the Antipodes by sitting on the back of my head.</p>
-
-<p>To complete the Sea Curse,&mdash;there are three Fates, and each<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> had a
-boon for me at my birth&mdash;it was ordained that, like the great Nelson,
-I should never sail from fresh water into salt, without knowing it by
-a general rising and commotion, which might be called figuratively, a
-Mutiny at the Nore.</p>
-
-<p>Like the standing and sitting infirmity, it is incurable. On my voyage
-outwards I tried every popular recipe; the hard ones first, to wit, raw
-carrots, raw onions, sailors’ biscuit with Dutch cheese, hard-boiled
-eggs, hard dumplings, raw stockfish. Next the easy ones: namely, cream
-cheese, Welsh rabbits, maccaroni, very hasty pudding, and insupportable
-soup. Then the neutrals: such as chewed blotting-paper, dry oatmeal,
-pounded egg-shells, scraped chalk, and unbaked dough.</p>
-
-<p>To wash these down, I took, by prescription, tea without milk, coffee
-without sugar, bark without wine, water without brandy; and these
-formulæ all failing, I then tried them, as witches pray, backwards;
-brandy without water, wine without bark, and so forth. The experimental
-combinations followed; rum and milk, and mustard; eggs and wine, and
-camomile tea; gin and beer, and vinegar; sea-water and salad-oil,
-mulled, with sugar and nutmeg. Of which last, I drank by advice most
-prodigiously, the Doctors of the Marine College dispensing always on
-the Homœopathic principle, that a large dose of anything, whereof a
-little would set you wrong on the land, will set you right on the sea.</p>
-
-<p>I need hardly say that, with my predisposed <i>necessitarian</i> viscera,
-all these infallible remedies failed of any effect, except to aggravate
-my case. Nothing short of liquid lead, maybe, or potable plaster of
-Paris, would have proved a settler.</p>
-
-<p>Happy the man who hath never been driven in his despair to test,
-detest, invoke, evoke, swallow, and unswallow, such drugs and draughts
-of the naval Pharmacopœia! Thrice happy civic simpleton who hath never
-learned how the rudder revolveth, at the risk of <i>turning round</i>
-himself!</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Vandergroot is visibly in course of transformation. At every visit
-to the cabin he looks more and more like a Dutch-pin. He talks to me
-roundly, and gets blunter and blunter! The last time I felt, I had no
-small to my back. If I may guess at my own figure, it is now about
-an oval. I must look like one of Leda’s babies, just emerged, with
-their insignificant buds of legs and arms, from the egg! From an oval
-to a circle is but a step. Heaven help me when I get landed, round
-and sound, as they say of cherries! How shall I get home&mdash;how get
-up&mdash;(there will be a short way down)&mdash;mine own stairs? How shall I sit?
-Instead of my old library chair, I must borrow its three-legged stool
-of the terrestrial globe!</p>
-
-<p>Either my head swims, or the cabin is getting circular! I shall roll
-about in it like a bolus in its box! If I am not merely giddy, I am
-already as spherical as the earth; a little flatted, or so, that is,
-towards the poles. What a horrible rough calm! I will down on my knees,
-if I have knees, and with clasped hands, if hands remain to me, pray,
-beg, and supplicate for a dismal storm to batter me into shape again,
-though it be but nine-bobble-square!</p>
-
-<p>I get more and more candid and communicative every moment. I can keep
-nothing to myself: you shall have my whole heart. I abhor, loathe,
-execrate, the sea! If I could throw up my hat, my cry would be “Land
-for ever!” A fico for Tom Tough! Down with Duncan Howe, and Jervis! No
-Dibdin!</p>
-
-<p>If ever I get ashore, able to chalk upon a wall, you shall read&mdash;Ask
-for Stoke Pogis! Try Lupton Parva! If ever I get to a dry desk again,
-to write verse upon,&mdash;and the poetry of the ocean is all on the
-land, its prose only upon the sea, you shall have a rare new melody,
-published by Power, to some such strain as this:&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft2">The sea! the D&mdash;&mdash;!</div>
-      <div class="verse">The terrible horrible sea!</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">The stormy, tumbling,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Qualmy-jumbling,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Spirit-humbling,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Shingle-stumbling,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Sea-weed fumbling,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Wearing, crumbling,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Mischief-mumbling,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft2">Growling, grumbling,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Like thunder far off rumbling&mdash; &mdash;</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="p0">That last line halteth in its feet, as well it may, when the poet
-cannot keep his legs. Oh! it is well for Cornwall, born perchance “with
-one foot on sea and one foot on shore” at the Land’s End,&mdash;I have seen
-a picture of it by Turner, a bare bleak rocky promontory, with some
-nineteen gulls and cormor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span>ants sitting thereon, each with its tail
-turned contemptuously towards the barren granite, feldspar, and like
-sordid soils which there represent land.&mdash;It is well enough for him to
-chaunt laudations of the briny element, and cry up those amphibia, his
-first cousins almost, the Nereids and Tritons. Or it may become those
-others, born in a berth, and christened in brine, with Neptune for
-sponsor, to sing slightingly of the dry ground, on which they cannot
-claim even a parish. But my nativity was otherwise cast&mdash;I am a grass
-lamb, yeaned on the green sward&mdash;oh sweet sweet sweet Cropton-le-Moor,
-down in dear dear Wiltshire!</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_283" name="i_283">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_283.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“HOW ARE YOU OFF FOR MONEY?”<br />
-    “WHY I’M OFF WITH ALL MY MASTER’S.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>That pastoral reminiscence hath made me worse. It has given me an
-appetite&mdash;for acres. Methinks I yearn and long and crave for nice
-clay, delicious mould, and crisp pebbles, in a paroxysm of that
-strange bulimy that attacks the African Dirt Eater. Something of
-Nebuchadnezzar’s grazing propensity comes along with it. Gracious
-Heaven! can it be possible that, after having been battered and shaken
-out of all shape,&mdash;a mere mass of living flesh, like the unlicked
-ursine cub,&mdash;this same Circean Jung Vrouw has taken it into her
-figure-head to beat, bang, bump, and rumbledy-thump me into another
-form, a horse, a ram, or a brindled bull!</p>
-
-<p>Thrice brute and beast-hyæna! Were-wolf! Dragon! horned Devil! that
-thou wast, my Land-steward, Peter Stuckey! after counselling me before
-thy last audit to abate my rents, to volunteer to reduce them thyself
-by absconding, across sea, with the whole receipt! Thrice Soland goose,
-booby, noddy, sea-calf, land-donkey, and loggerhead turtle was I, thus
-impoverished, instead of economising, to pursue thee on an element
-where I cannot control my out-goings!</p>
-
-<p>Donner and Blitzen! what a crash! my rash prayer was heard: there is a
-storm coming&mdash;as the Powers proposed to storm Angiers in King John’s
-days&mdash;from all the four quarters at once! I must needs turn in: but
-how vilely this bed is made<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> with the foot two yards higher than the
-head! No, the head is highest&mdash;perpendicular. I designed to lie down,
-and here I am standing bolt erect on my heels&mdash;no, on my head. It
-must be getting cold: the very trunks, stools and tables are making
-a move towards the stove&mdash;nay, now we are in some sudden peril, for
-they are all doing their best to rush up the cabin-stair. Whew&mdash;that
-sea last shipped must needs have put all the Dutchmen’s pipes out.
-Another plunge; and a flood of brine soaks me through, shirt, sheet,
-and blankets. There is no washing put out here, I perceive; ’tis all
-done at home. What a complex, chaotic motion,&mdash;the ship tosses and
-flings like a wild desert-born horse, that is trying to rear, kick up
-behind, turn round and round, and roll on his back at one and the same
-moment. This is no Dutch ship, but a Dutch fair&mdash;with the drums, gongs,
-speaking-trumpets, and other discords, all braying together; and I am
-on the rocking-horse, the round-about, in the up-and-down, and each
-of the swings, all at once! Another crash! The Jung Vrouw is bereaved
-of her little one, alias the long-boat. How kind of Vandergroot to
-come down to tell me of it, direct through the sky-light, instead of
-going round by the stair! How kind of that table, lying on its back,
-to catch him in its legs! Angels of grace be near us! He tells me, as
-he sways up and down, partly in High, partly in Low Dutch, that the
-Jung Vrouw herself is washed overboard! But no&mdash;I misconstrued him.
-’Tis only her great ruddy staring figure-head&mdash;which the blundering
-Holland shipwrights had stuck astern, on the crown of the tiller&mdash;that
-is gone adrift. Oh how I wish from my soul of souls that I could see
-the Commodore of the Thames Yachts now pulling, within hail, in the
-Wenus! Or, the last Dibdin taking a chair&mdash;or the chair taking him&mdash;in
-this cabin! Or, Campbell essaying to write down a new sea-song on yon
-topsy-turvy table! And oh! to behold the author of “The deep deep Sea”
-sitting on the poop, singing to that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> floating Young Woman’s head and
-bust, taken by mistake for a mermaid’s!</p>
-
-<p>Another shout. Pieter Pietersoon, in heaving the lead, hath chucked
-himself in along with it! I do not wonder; he heaveth after my own
-fashion, by wholesale. Have I not within the last two hours rejected,
-discharged, and utterly cast from me in disgust, the whole ocean,
-nay all the oceans, German, Atlantic, Pacific&mdash;the Arctic last, its
-solid calms, the next best things to Terra Firma, not so violently
-disagreeing with me as the rest. And do I not know and feel that I
-am now about to give up Neptune, trident and all, with the whole
-salt-water mythology? I warrant, ere ten minutes to come, there shall
-not remain within me so much as a syren’s mirror, or her tortoise-shell
-comb:&mdash;not one solitary Triton will be left on my stomach. Some
-unsavoury odour about the cabin&mdash;marvellously like the smell of oil
-paint&mdash;hath just given me a new turn, by conjuring up all the nauseous
-pictures of marine allegories, which even on steady dry land, used to
-stir and provoke my spleen.</p>
-
-<p>Oh! that they were all here, President, R.A., and A.R.A., in a string,
-climbing after me up this perilous slippery stair, to the more perilous
-slippery deck, there to crawl on all-fours to the ship’s side, and
-clinging like cats or monkeys to the quarter boards, take a trembling
-peep at what Vandergroot calls “den wild zee!” What an awful sight!
-The tempest-tost sky is as troubled as the ocean: whilst betwixt the
-jagged base of the low black cloud, and the still jaggeder crest of
-the sea, the red angry lightning restlessly darts to and fro, as if in
-search of whatever presuming mortal dares fare between them! Oh tell
-me, Mister Elias Martin&mdash;if you a’nt dead&mdash;is the tossing crest of
-yonder mad black billow, that comes racing after us, at all like the
-black worsted fringe which your brethren are apt to hang on the necks
-of their marine Arabians? But hush, yonder comes Neptune himself, in
-his state-coach&mdash;aye, hats off&mdash;the wind hath taught<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> ye manners. Lo!
-yonder he stands,&mdash;Pshaw! no, no, no,&mdash;Zounds! you are all gaping at
-honest Hans Vandergroot. Look to starboard&mdash;to the left hand! That’s
-the gentleman, without his castor, nor indeed overwell togged otherwise
-for wet weather&mdash;with his beard lather’d but not shaved&mdash;standing up in
-an oyster-shell drag, and attempting, like a sorry whip as he is, to
-tool his team of bokickers with a potato-fork. Did you ever see four
-such unbroke brutes as he hath to keep together&mdash;neither reined-up,
-nor down, nor indeed, any ribbons to hold at all&mdash;and as I would have
-laid a pony to nothing, there they go, no pace at all, cause why? they
-are just come to some invisible sea obelisk, and each horse is for
-going down a road of his own. Did you ever set eyes on such action? No
-stepping out&mdash;but all pawing and prancing and putting their feet down
-again where they picked them up, like Ducrow’s dancing stud; as sure
-as I’m a judge, they have all got the string-halt in their fore-legs,
-because they can’t have it in their hinder ones! You may swear safely
-that they have four bad colds besides, and look what a rabble of
-naked postillions are hanging on by their manes, because they have no
-saddles, and if they had, they would never be able to sit in them with
-those salmon tails! Between ourselves, Elias, ’tis no great shakes of
-a show; the Lord Mayor’s pageant on the water beats it all to sticks;
-and if you make a picture of it, you will be a fool for your pains. Yet
-have I seen paintings by first-rate hands as like to this same trumpery
-Sadlers’ Wells water spectacle&mdash;&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>Murder! murder! Help! help! O Lord! A surgeon and a shutter, if there
-be such comfortable things in this unneighbourly neighbourhood. O! oh!
-oh! oh! Woe is me! I am not&mdash;I am now certain and sure I am not a Ball!
-I have limbs and members! legs and arms! like other people’s, only
-they’re broke; and a very distinct back. My head! Oh! my head, my head;
-there are nine lumps thereon, and there are nine cabin stairs.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>The real Sea-King, in resentment, I suppose, of my untimely caricature
-of him and his state-coach, after spitting nine gallons of foam in my
-face, knocked me flat with a wave, and then kicked me down stairs;
-and here I am again trying to anoint my bruises with trunks, and bind
-them up with stools and tables, on the hard-hearted oak planks of the
-cabin-floor. Yet is it easier with me than I first feared. My legs are
-not broken but merely bent. I am only bandy and not lame for life; but
-my sea-sickness is not cured. Am I likely to put up, better or worse,
-think you, with Neptune and his satellites, for this unhandsome usage?</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_288" name="i_288">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_288.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“FRIEND! DOST THEE CALL THIS THE PACIFIC?”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>The Jung Vrouw, meanwhile, is as giddy as ever, nay, worse ten times
-told. She hath taken a tinge of high-flying, deep-living, German
-Romanticism into her wooden head, and is try<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span>ing, plunge after plunge,
-to drown herself, and to make me commit wilful suicide along with her,
-whether I will or not. After that, there is no hope; but oh! yet oh,
-my Fates, let me die upon land. I have a horror of shipboard! The idea
-of severing all ties in this cabin is trebly agonising. Why, the very
-table is tied to the floor, the candlestick to the table, the snuffers
-to the candlestick, the extinguisher to the snuffers. Only the burning
-candle is unattached, and there&mdash;there it jumps into bed! No matter; it
-could as soon set fire to the Thames. Another squall! How she groans,
-creaks, squeaks, strains, grinds, and squeezes, like a huge walnut in
-Neptune’s crackers? Accursed Jung Vrouw! thou wilt be the widowing
-of my poor dear old one! Accursed Peter Stuckey, thou wilt be the
-murdering of my poor deaf old self!</p>
-
-<p>I know not, for a surety, by reason that everything about me is
-quaking and shaking, but I suspect I am trembling like an aspen. It
-is impossible to hear, in the midst of this universal hubbub, but
-methinks, I am wailing and weeping aloud. But one may as well make
-a manly exit. Like other men, in such sea extremities, I would fain
-betake me to the rum-cask; but either Hans Vandergroot sails on
-Temperance principles, or I have looked in the wrong place. I will try
-a stave or two instead.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Full fathom five&mdash;”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_290" name="i_290">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_290.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">THE BEST BOWER ANCHOR.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Alas! it will not go down. I am too much out of sorts for even the
-“delicate Ariel.” It was one thing for Shakspeare, sailing, hugging
-the shore, never out of sight of land, on the safe serene coasts of
-Bohemia, to compose such a sea song for the wood and canvas Tempests of
-the stage; but it is another guess thing to hear it, as I do, howled
-through hoarse ship-ropes, by Boreas himself, in a real storm. What
-comfort to me that everything about me shall suffer a sea-change?&mdash;that
-my bones shall turn, forsooth, into coral? I would not give a bad<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span>
-doit, with some of these poor metacarpal bones of mine to be rubbing
-the gums of the Royal Infant of Spain. I am not so blindly ambitious
-as to wish that these two precious useful balls of mine, turned into
-pearls, should shine in the British crown itself, or, what is more
-tempting, in the hair of the beautiful Countess of B. What if some
-economical jeweller&mdash;I think I feel him at it&mdash;should take it into his
-head to split them, for setting in a ring? As for the Syren’s knell,
-I would as lief have it as long hereafter as may be, from the plain
-prosaic old sexton of St. Sepulchre’s. I have no depraved yearning
-to be first wet-nursed to death, and then “lapped in Elysium,” by
-Mermaids, the most cold, flabby, washy, fishy, draggletails ever
-invented to give any human fancy the ague&mdash;half-and-half monsters,
-neither fish, nor flesh, nor good red herring. A whole cargo of them,
-nay a glut of them, leaping alive, unfit for loving<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> or eating, is not
-worth one loveable real woman at Billingsgate, or one of the eatable
-maids on her stall. I could never imagine the boldest and gallantest
-boatswain encountering such a sea-witch, on a lone beach&mdash;combing the
-shrimps out of her wet sandy mud-coloured hair, and wriggling her
-foolish tail about, curling, or stretching it, or trying to put it into
-her pocket, forgetting that she has no pockets, as a shy man in company
-does not know what to do with his hands&mdash;I could never fancy him
-looking on such a creature, however attached to the fair sex, without
-his recoiling till he tumbled over his own pigtail, singing out, with a
-slight variation of a line of Dibdin’s,</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Avert yon ’oman, gracious Heaven!”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p>For other sea-temptations, I would not give my old white pony, that
-stumbles over every stone in his road, and some out of it, to ride
-like that Lord Godolphin Arion over the seas on the fairest fish that
-was ever foaled. Speaking under fear of death, I would rather, waving
-all the romance, ride in a rill by a roadside on a stickle-back. On
-my solemn word, I would far liefer bestride even a pond perch with
-his dorsal fin erect. But hark! What means that dreadful cry? Our
-death-bell is tolling in Dutch&mdash;“Del, del, is verlooren!”</p>
-
-<p>I must scramble, crawl, haul myself, spite of my sprained ankles, up
-unto the deck how I may. Next best unto witnessing our own funeral is
-the seeing how we are done to death.</p>
-
-<p>What a sight! Here is the tiller tied hard a-port, or hard a-lee, as
-hard as they can tie it. Further back is the Skipper himself, entangled
-dismally by some cord or other to the stern-rails; and yonder is his
-mate, with a hundred and fifty turns of rope round himself and the
-mizen-mast, which he seems trying to strengthen. The gunner, as I take
-him to be, with a preposterous superfluity of breeching, is made fast
-to look through a hole, which seems to have been meant for a window to
-a cannon; and the carpenter, well pinioned and tethered by a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> stout
-rope to the back-stay, is sheepishly dangling therefrom, whenever his
-side of the ship is uppermost, like unto the Lamb of the Order of the
-Golden Fleece. The cook, having given away both his hands, is spliced,
-as if for life, unto the capstan. Adam Vaart is double-turned and
-double-knotted to the main-mast, and Hendrick his brother is belayed
-down, on the broad of his back, in the place of the lost long-boat.
-Should the anchor be dropped, Jan Bart is sure, even from head to foot,
-to go along with it. Poor little Yacob Yops, the apprentice, hath
-been turned over, and re-bound into a ring-bolt, by articles which
-are called rope-yarns; and lo, up yonder, lashed by his legs to the
-rattlines, hangs Diedrick Dumm-Kopf, head downwards, like a split cod
-left there to dry, in the main shrouds!</p>
-
-<p>Oh! that I were bound myself round and round all the ribs, from the top
-to the bottom, with good six-twist, lest even thus, in articulo mortis,
-I burst, split my sides, and die with excess of laughter. The Skipper,
-honest Hans, with much difficulty, for he grievously mistrusts his
-breathing to the beating of the wave, opening his mouth when it comes,
-and sealing up his lips when it is gone, hath let me into the whole
-secret. Considering the wild sea, he saith, and that no man can tie
-himself so surely as another man can, to some more steadfast substance,
-they had been all fastened, at their own special wish and agreement,
-to such hold-fasts as pleased them best, by Diedrick Dumm-Kopf, who
-was afterwards to provide for his safety as he judged surest, in order
-that he might liberate them again when the storm should be blown over.
-That accordingly, after first tying them all as securely as he was
-able, the said Diedrick betook himself to the main rigging, about half
-way up, to which he lashed himself by the ankles, holding on likewise
-with his hands, and his great clasp-knife in his mouth. That the Jung
-Vrouw driving before the wind and sea, they made shift, as they were to
-navigate her pretty comfortably for some twenty minutes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> or thereby,
-when all of a sudden they saw Diedrick, being seized with a vertigo,
-let go his hold and drop into his present posture, from which he could
-never recover himself; and it was that dismal sight which had extorted
-the universal outcry that I heard.</p>
-
-<p>I am sicker of the sea than ever! Is the safety of a Christian man’s
-life, and soul maybe, of no more interest than to be gambled away by
-such a set of Dutch Bottoms with Asses’ heads on their shoulders! Oh!
-that the worthy Chairman and all the Underwriters of Lloyd’s were here
-present on this deck&mdash;the mere sight of the Skipper’s countenance
-there, with not so much meaning in it as a smoked pig’s face, for
-<i>that</i> means to be eaten, would scare them from all sea-risks for ever!</p>
-
-<p>Thanks be to Heaven! yonder’s a sail. It makes straight towards
-us&mdash;they come aboard. A Pilot?&mdash;well said! Oh, honest, good, dear
-Pilot, as you love a distressed poor countryman&mdash;as you understand
-the compass and how rudders are turned&mdash;if you know what a rope’s end
-is,&mdash;take the biggest bit of a cable you can pick, and give yonder
-Dutch sea-calves a round dozen a piece; ’twill cost you no great pains,
-seeing they are tied up ready to your hand. Pish! never mind their
-offence; they have mutinied against themselves. Smite, and spare not. I
-will go ashore meanwhile, in your boat. Hollo there! help me down. Take
-heed to my footing. Catch me, all of you, in your arms. Now I am in.
-No, I an’t! I an’t! I an’t!</p>
-
-<p>If ye had not hauled me in again with that same boat-hook, I was
-drown’d. My shoulder bleeds for it, but I forgive. Never heed me: look
-to your helms and sails. ’Tis only a gallon or two of sea-water, just
-swallowed, that is indisposed to go on shore with me. I am used to it,
-indeed I am. Pray, what is the name of this blessed boat? The Lively
-Nancy. Lively indeed! The Jung Vrouw was a Quakeress to her! At every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span>
-jump she takes, my heart leaps also. Pray, pray, pray take in some
-canvas. You think you be sailing, but you are committing suicide. They
-mind me no more than stones. Oh! oh! I am out of Danger’s frying-pan
-into its fire! Peter Stuckey will be a murtherer after all!</p>
-
-<p>What a set of dare-devils! They grin like baboons whilst she is driving
-with half her deck under water! I will shut mine eyes and hold fast
-by something. I am worse than ever. I give myself up. Oh! oh! what an
-awful roaring, hissing, grinding noise we are come into! The bottom of
-the sea is coming out, or else the bottom of the boat! Hah! Help! help!
-I am heels upward! Why did not some kindly soul forewarn me that she
-was going to stop short on the beach? Stand all aside, and let me leap
-upon the sand. Ah! I have made my nose spout gore in my over-haste to
-kiss my native land!</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_294" name="i_294">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_294.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“WHY DON’T YOU LOOK OUT FOR WORK?”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Blessed be dry ground! Farewell, ocean! farewell, Jung Vrouw and Lively
-Nancy! Take my advice, and get married both of you to young farmers.
-Farewell, ye hang-dogs that saved me! Share my blessing amongst you;
-’tis all I have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> upon me or in me. Farewell, Neptune! We’ll part
-friends. If you ever come to Cropton-le-Moor, I shall be glad to see
-you, and not till then. Hans! Jan! Pieter! farewell one and all of you;
-“and if a merry meeting may be wished, God prohibit it.” Now for a
-sweet, safe, still, silent land-bed! Set me but within a run and a jump
-of one, and in two clipped current minutes I will be fast asleep in it,
-even like the Irishman who forgot to say his prayers, but remembered to
-say amen.</p>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="LOVE_AND_LUNACY">LOVE AND LUNACY.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">The Moon&mdash;who does not love the silver moon,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">In all her fantasies and all her phases?</div>
-      <div class="verse">Whether full-orb’d in the nocturnal noon,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Shining in all the dewdrops on the daisies,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">To light the tripping Fairies in their mazes,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Whilst stars are winking at the pranks of Puck;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Or huge and red, as on brown sheaves she gazes;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or new and thin, when coin is turn’d for luck;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Who will not say that Dian is a Duck?</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">But, oh! how tender, beautiful and sweet,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">When in her silent round, serene and clear,</div>
-      <div class="verse">By assignation loving fancies meet,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">To recompense the pangs of absence drear!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">So Ellen, dreaming of Lorenzo, dear,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But distant from the city mapp’d by Mogg,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Still saw his image in that silver sphere,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Plain as the Man with lantern, bush, and dog,</div>
-     <div class="verse">That used to set our ancestors a-gog.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">And so she told him in a pretty letter,</div>
-      <div class="verse">That came to hand exactly as Saint Meg’s</div>
-      <div class="verse">Was striking ten&mdash;eleven had been better;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">For then he might have eaten six more eggs,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And both of the bedevill’d turkey-legs,</div>
-      <div class="verse">With relishes from East, West, North, and South,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Draining, beside, the teapot to the dregs;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Whereas a man, whose heart is in his mouth,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Is rather spoilt for hunger and for drouth.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_296" name="i_296">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_296.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">ABSTRACTION.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">And so the kidneys, broiling hot, were wasted;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The brawn&mdash;it never enter’d in his thought;</div>
-      <div class="verse">The grated Parmesan remained untasted;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The potted shrimps were left as they were bought,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The capelings stood as merely good for nought,</div>
-      <div class="verse">The German sausage did not tempt him better,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Whilst Juno, licking her poor lips, was taught</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">There’s neither bone nor skin about a letter,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Gristle, nor scalp, that one can give a setter.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Heav’n bless the man who first devised a mail!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Heav’n bless that public pile which stands concealing</div>
-      <div class="verse">The Goldsmiths’ front with such a solid veil!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Heav’n bless the Master, and Sir Francis Freeling,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The drags, the nags, the leading or the wheeling,</div>
-      <div class="verse">The whips, the guards, the horns, the coats of scarlet,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The boxes, bags, those evening bells a-pealing!</div>
-      <div class="verse">Heav’n bless, in short, each posting thing, and varlet</div>
-      <div class="verse">That helps a Werter to a sigh from Charlotte.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">So felt Lorenzo as he oped the sheet,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Where, first, the darling signature he kiss’d,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And then, recurring to its contents sweet</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">With thirsty eyes, a phrase I must enlist,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">He <i>gulp’d</i> the words to hasten to their gist;</div>
-      <div class="verse">In mortal ecstasy his soul was bound&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">When, lo! with features all at once a-twist,</div>
-      <div class="verse">He gave a whistle, wild enough in sound</div>
-      <div class="verse">To summon Faustus’s Infernal Hound!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Alas! what little miffs and tiffs in love,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A snubbish word, or pouting look mistaken,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Will loosen screws with sweethearts hand and glove,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Oh! love, rock firm when chimney-pots were shaken,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A pettish breath will into huffs awaken,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To spit like hump-back’d cats, and snarling Towzers!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Till hearts are wreck’d and founder’d, and forsaken,</div>
-      <div class="verse">As ships go to Old Davy, Lord knows how, Sirs,</div>
-      <div class="verse">While heav’n is blue enough for Dutchmen’s trowsers!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“The moon’s at full, love, and I think of you”&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Who would have thought that such a kind P.S.</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Could make a man turn white, then red, then blue,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Then black, and knit his eyebrows and compress</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">His teeth, as if about to effervesce</div>
-      <div class="verse">Like certain people when they lose at whist!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">So look’d the chafed Lorenzo, ne’ertheless,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And, in a trice, the paper he had kiss’d</div>
-      <div class="verse">Was crumpled like a snowball in his fist!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Ah! had he been less versed in scientifics,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">More ignorant, in short, of what is what:</div>
-      <div class="verse">He ne’er had flared up in such calorifics;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">But he <i>would</i> seek societies, and trot</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">To clubs, Mechanics’ institutes, and got</div>
-      <div class="verse">With Birkbeck&mdash;Bartley&mdash;Combe&mdash;George Robins&mdash;Rennie,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And other lecturing men. And had he not</div>
-      <div class="verse">That work, of weekly parts, which sells so many,</div>
-      <div class="verse">The Copper-bottomed Magazine&mdash;or “Penny?”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">But, of all learned pools whereon, or in,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Men dive like dabchicks, or like swallows skim,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Some hardly damp’d, some wetted to the skin,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Some drown’d like pigs when they attempt to swim,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Astronomy was most Lorenzo’s whim,</div>
-      <div class="verse">(’Tis studied by a Prince amongst the Burmans);</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">He loved those heavenly bodies which, the Hymn</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of Addison declares, preach solemn sermons,</div>
-      <div class="verse">While waltzing on their pivots like young Germans.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Night after night, with telescope in hand,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Supposing that the night was fair and clear,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Aloft, on the house-top, he took his stand,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Till he obtained to know each twinkling sphere</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Better, I doubt, than Milton’s “Starry Vere;”</div>
-      <div class="verse">Thus, reading thro’ poor Ellen’s fond epistle,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">He soon espied the flaw&mdash;the lapse so sheer</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">That made him raise his hair in such a bristle,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And like the Boatswain of the Storm-Ship whistle.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“The moon’s at full, love, and I think of thee,”&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">“Indeed! I’m very much her humble debtor,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But not the moon-calf she would have me be,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Zounds! does she fancy that I know no better?”</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Herewith, at either corner of the letter</div>
-      <div class="verse">He gave a most ferocious, rending, pull;&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">“O woman! woman! that no vows can fetter,</div>
-      <div class="verse">A moon to stay for three weeks at the full!</div>
-      <div class="verse">By Jove! a very pretty cock-and-bull!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“The moon at full! ’twas very finely reckon’d!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Why so she wrote me word upon the first&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">The twelfth, and now upon the twenty-second&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Full!&mdash;yes&mdash;it must be full enough to burst!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">But let her go&mdash;of all vile jilts the worst”&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Here with his thumbs he gave contemptuous snaps,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Anon he blubber’d like the child that’s nurs’d,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And then he hit the table frightful raps,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And stamped till he had broken both his straps.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“The moon’s at full&mdash;and I am in her thought&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">No doubt; I do believe it in my soul!”</div>
-      <div class="verse">Here he threw up his head, and gave a snort</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Like a young horse first harness’d to a pole:</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">“The moon is full&mdash;aye, so is this d&mdash;d bowl!”</div>
-      <div class="verse">And, grinning like the sourest of curmudgeons,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Globe&mdash;water&mdash;fishes&mdash;he dash’d down the whole,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Strewing the carpet with the gasping gudgeons;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Men do the strangest things in such love-dudgeons.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“I fill her thoughts&mdash;her memory’s vice-gerent?</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">No, no,&mdash;some paltry puppy&mdash;three weeks old&mdash;</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">And round as Norval’s shield”&mdash;thus incoherent</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">His fancies grew as he went on to scold;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">So stormy waves are into breakers roll’d,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Work’d up at last to mere chaotic wroth&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">This&mdash;that&mdash;heads&mdash;tails&mdash;thoughts jumbled uncontroll’d</div>
-      <div class="verse">As onions, turnips, meat, in boiling broth,</div>
-      <div class="verse">By turns bob up, and splutter in the froth.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_300" name="i_300">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_300.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">HOME’S DOUGLAS.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Fool that I was to let a baby face&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A full one&mdash;like a hunter’s&mdash;round and red&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Ass that I am, to give her more a place</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Within this heart”&mdash;and here he struck his head.</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">“’Sdeath are the Almanack-compilers dead?</div>
-      <div class="verse">But no&mdash;’tis all an artifice&mdash;a trick,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Some newer face&mdash;some dandy under-bred&mdash;</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Well&mdash;be it so&mdash;of all the sex I’m sick!”</div>
-      <div class="verse">Here Juno wonder’d why she got a kick.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“‘The moon is full’&mdash;where’s her infernal scrawl?</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">‘And you are in my thought: that silver ray</div>
-      <div class="verse">Will ever your dear image thus recall’&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">My image? Mine! She’d barter it away</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">For Pretty Poll’s on an Italian’s tray!</div>
-      <div class="verse">Three weeks, full weeks,&mdash;it is too plain&mdash;too bad&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Too gross and palpable! Oh cursed day!</div>
-      <div class="verse">My senses have not crazed&mdash;but if they had&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Such moons would worry a Mad Doctor mad!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Oh Nature! wherefore did you frame a lip</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">So fair for falsehood? Wherefore have you drest</div>
-      <div class="verse">Deceit so angel-like?” With sudden rip</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">He tore six new buff buttons from his vest</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And groped with hand impetuous at his breast,</div>
-      <div class="verse">As if some flea from Juno’s fleecy curls</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Had skipp’d to batten on a human chest,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But no&mdash;the hand comes forth, and down it hurls</div>
-      <div class="verse">A lady’s miniature beset with pearls.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Yet long upon the floor it did not tarry,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Before another outrage could be plann’d:</div>
-      <div class="verse">Poor Juno, who had learn’d to fetch and carry,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Pick’d up and brought it to her master’s hand,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Who seized it, and the mimic feature scann’d;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Yet not with the old loving ardent drouth,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">He only saw in that fair face, so bland,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Look how he would at it, east, west, north, south.</div>
-      <div class="verse">A moon, a full one, with eyes, nose, and mouth.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“I’ll go to her,”&mdash;herewith his hat he touch’d,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And gave his arm a most heroic brandish;</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">“But no&mdash;I’ll write”&mdash;and here a spoon he clutch’d,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And ramm’d it with such fury in the standish,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A sable flood, like Niger the outlandish,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Came rushing forth&mdash;Oh Antics and Buffoons!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Ye never danced a caper so ran-dan-dish;</div>
-      <div class="verse">He jump’d, thump’d&mdash;tore&mdash;swore, more than ten dragoons,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">At all nights, noons, moons, spoons, and pantaloons!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">But soon ashamed, or weary, of such dancing,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Without a Collinet’s or Weippert’s band,</div>
-      <div class="verse">His rampant arms and legs left off their prancing,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And down he sat again, with pen in hand,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Not fiddle-headed, or King’s-pattern grand,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">But one of Bramah’s patent Caligraphics;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And many a sheet it spoil’d before he plann’d</div>
-      <div class="verse">A likely letter. Used to pure seraphics,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Philippics sounded strangely after Sapphics.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Long while he rock’d like Yankee in his chair,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Staring as he would stare the wainscot through,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And then he thrust his fingers in his hair,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And set his crest up like a cockatoo;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And trampled with his hoofs, a mere Yahoo:</div>
-      <div class="verse">At last with many a tragic frown and start,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">He penn’d a billet, very far from doux,</div>
-      <div class="verse">’Twas sour, severe&mdash;but think of a man’s smart</div>
-      <div class="verse">Writing with lunar caustic on his heart!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">The letter done and closed, he lit his taper,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And sealing, as it were, his other mocks,</div>
-      <div class="verse">He stamped a grave device upon the paper,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">No Cupid toying with his Psyche’s locks,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">But some stern head of the old Stoic stocks&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Then, fiercely striding through the staring streets,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">He dropt the bitter missive in a box,</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Beneath the cakes and tarts, and sugar’d treats,</div>
-      <div class="verse">In Mrs. Smelling’s window full of sweets.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_303" name="i_303">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_303.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">BROKE BY A FALL OF THE STOCKS.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Soon sped the letter&mdash;thanks to modern plans,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Our English mails run little in the style</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of those great German wild-beast caravans,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1"><i>Eil</i>-wagons&mdash;tho’ they do not “go like <i>ile</i>,”&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">But take a good twelve minutes to the mile&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">On Monday morning, just at ten o’clock,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">As Ellen humm’d “The young May Moon” the while,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Her ear was startled by that double knock</div>
-      <div class="verse">Which thrills the nerves like an electric shock!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Her right hand instantly forgot its cunning,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And down into the street it dropt, or flung,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Right on the hat and wig of Mr. Gunning,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The jug that o’er her ten-week stocks had hung;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Then down the stairs by twos and threes she sprung,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And through the passage like a burglar darted.</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Alas! how sanguine are the fond and young&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">She little thought, when with the coin she parted,</div>
-      <div class="verse">She paid a sixpence to be broken-hearted!</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_304" name="i_304">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_304.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“WHEN WILL IT REACH LONDON?”</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Too dear at any price&mdash;had she but paid</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Nothing and taken discount, it was dear;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Yet, worthless as it was, the sweet-lipped maid</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Oft kissed the letter in her brief career</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Between the lower and the upper sphere,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Where, seated in a study bistre-brown,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">She tried to pierce a mystery as clear</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">As <i>that</i> I saw once puzzling a young clown&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">“Reading Made Easy,” but turned upside down.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Yet Ellen, like most Misses in the land,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Had sipped sky blue, through certain of her teens,</div>
-      <div class="verse">At one of those establishments which stand</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">In highways, byeways, squares, and village greens;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">’Twas called “The Grove,”&mdash;a name that always means</div>
-      <div class="verse">Two poplars stand like sentries at the gate&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Each window had its close Venetian screens</div>
-      <div class="verse">And Holland blind, to keep in a cool state</div>
-      <div class="verse">The twenty-four Young Ladies of Miss Bate.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">But when the screens were left unclosed by chance,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The blinds not down, as if Miss B. were dead,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Each upper window to a passing glance</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Revealed a little dimity white bed;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Each lower one a cropp’d or curly head;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And thrice a week, for soul’s and health’s economies,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Along the road the twenty four were led,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Like coupled hounds, whipped in by two she-dominies</div>
-      <div class="verse">With faces rather graver than Melpomene’s.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">And thus their studies they pursued:&mdash;On Sunday,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Beef, collects, batter, texts from Dr. Price;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Mutton, French, pancakes, grammar&mdash;of a Monday;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Tuesday&mdash;hard dumplings, globes, Chapone’s Advice;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Wednesday&mdash;fancy-work, rice-milk (no spice);</div>
-      <div class="verse">Thursday&mdash;pork, dancing, currant-bolsters, reading;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Friday&mdash;beef, Mr. Butler, and plain rice;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Saturday&mdash;scraps, short lessons and short feeding,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Stocks, back-boards, hash, steel-collars, and good breeding</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">From this repertory of female learning,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Came Ellen once a quarter, always fatter!</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">To gratify the eyes of parents yearning.</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">’Twas evident in bolsters, beef, and batter,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Hard dumplings, and rice-milk, she did not smatter,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But heartily, as Jenkins says, “demollidge;”</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">But as for any learning, not to flatter,</div>
-      <div class="verse">As often happens when girls leave their college,</div>
-      <div class="verse">She had done nothing but grow out of knowledge.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_306" name="i_306">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_306.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">PRACTICE DRIVES ME MAD.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">At Long Division sums she had no chance,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And History was quite as bad a balk;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Her French it was too small for Petty France,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And Priscian suffered in her English talk:</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Her drawing might be done with cheese or chalk;</div>
-      <div class="verse">As for the globes&mdash;the use of the terrestrial</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">She knew when she went out to take a walk,</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Or take a ride; but, touching the celestial,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Her knowledge hardly soared above the bestial.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Nothing she learned of Juno, Pallas, Mars;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Georgium, for what she knew, might stand for Burgo,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Sidus, for Master: then, for northern stars,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The Bear she fancied did in sable fur go,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The Bull was Farmer Giles’s bull, and, ergo,</div>
-      <div class="verse">The Ram the same that butted at her brother;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">As for the Twins, she only guessed that Virgo,</div>
-      <div class="verse">From coming after them, must be their mother;</div>
-      <div class="verse">The Scales weighed soap, tea, figs, like any other.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">As ignorant as donkeys in Gallicia,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">She thought that Saturn, with his Belt, was but</div>
-      <div class="verse">A private, may be, in the Kent Militia;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">That Charles’s Wain would stick in a deep rut,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">That Venus was a real West-End slut&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Oh, Gods and Goddesses of Greek Theogony!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">That Berenice’s Hair would curl and cut,</div>
-      <div class="verse">That Cassiopëia’s Chair was good Mahogany,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Nicely French-polished,&mdash;such was her cosmogony!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Judge, then, how puzzled by the scientifics</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Lorenzo’s letter came now to dispense;</div>
-      <div class="verse">A lizard, crawling over hieroglyphics,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Knows quite as much of their Egyptian sense;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A sort of London fog, opaque and dense,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Hung over verbs, nouns, genitives, and datives.</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">In vain she pored and pored, with eyes intense;</div>
-      <div class="verse">As well is known to oyster-operatives,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Mere looking at the shells won’t open natives.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Yet mixed with the hard words, so called, she found</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Some easy ones that gave her heart the staggers:</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Words giving tongue against her, like a hound</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">At picking out a fault&mdash;words speaking daggers.</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The very letters seemed, in hostile swaggers,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To lash their tails, but not as horses do,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Nor like the tails of spaniels, gentle waggers,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But like a lion’s, ere he tears in two</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A black, to see if he is black all through.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">With open mouth, and eyeballs at full stretch,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">She gazed upon the paper sad and sorry,</div>
-      <div class="verse">No sound&mdash;no stir&mdash;quite petrified, poor wretch!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">As when Apollo, in old allegory,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Down-stooping like a falcon, made his quarry</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of Niobe, just turned to Purbeck stone;</div>
-      <div class="verse">In fact, since Cupid grew into a worry,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Judge if a suing lover, let alone</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A lawyer, ever wrote in such a tone.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_308" name="i_308">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_308.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">A POUTER.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Ellen, I will no longer call you mine,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">That time is past, and ne’er can come again;</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">However other lights undimmed may shine,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And undiminishing, one truth is plain,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Which I, alas! have learned,&mdash;that love can wane.</div>
-      <div class="verse">The dream is pass’d away, the veil is rent,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Your heart was not intended for my reign;</div>
-      <div class="verse">A sphere so full, I feel, was never meant</div>
-      <div class="verse">With one poor man in it to be content.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“It must, no doubt, be pleasant beyond measure,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">To wander underneath the whispering bough</div>
-      <div class="verse">With Dian, a perpetual round of pleasure.</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Nay, fear not,&mdash;I absolve of every vow,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Use,&mdash;use your own celestial pleasure now,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Your apogee and perigee arrange.</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Herschel might aptly stare and wonder how,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To me that constant disk has nothing strange&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">A counterfeit is sometimes hard to change.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Oh Ellen! I once little thought to write</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Such words unto you, with so hard a pen;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Yet outraged love will change its nature quite,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And turn like tiger hunted to its den&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">How Falsehood trips in her deceits on men!</div>
-      <div class="verse">And stands abash’d, discover’d, and forlorn!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Had it been only cusp’d&mdash;but gibbous&mdash;then</div>
-      <div class="verse">It had gone down&mdash;but Faith drew back in scorn,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And would not swallow it&mdash;without a horn!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“I am in occultation,&mdash;that is plain:</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">My culmination’s past,&mdash;that’s quite as clear.</div>
-      <div class="verse">But think not I will suffer your disdain</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">To hang a lunar rainbow on a tear.</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Whate’er my pangs, they shall be buried here;</div>
-      <div class="verse">No murmur,&mdash;not a sigh,&mdash;shall thence exhale:</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Smile on,&mdash;and for your own peculiar sphere</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Choose some eccentric path,&mdash;you cannot fail,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And pray stick on a most portentous tail!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Farewell! I hope you are in health and gay;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">For me, I never felt so well and merry&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">As for the bran-new idol of the day,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Monkey or man, I am indifferent&mdash;very!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Nor e’en will ask who is the Happy Jerry;</div>
-      <div class="verse">My jealousy is dead, or gone to sleep,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">But let me hint that you will want a wherry,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Three weeks’ spring-tide, and not a chance of neap,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Your parlours will be flooded six feet deep!”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_310" name="i_310">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_310.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">POND’S ASTRONOMY.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Oh Ellen! how delicious was that light</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Wherein our plighted shadows used to blend,</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Meanwhile the melancholy bird of night&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">No more of that&mdash;&mdash;the lover’s at an end.</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Yet if I may advise you, as a friend,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Before you next pen sentiments so fond,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Study your cycles&mdash;I would recommend</div>
-      <div class="verse">Our Airy&mdash;and let South be duly conn’d,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And take a dip, I beg, in the great Pond.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Farewell again! it is farewell for ever!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Before your lamp of night be lit up thrice,</div>
-      <div class="verse">I shall be sailing, haply, for Swan River,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Jamaica, or the Indian land of rice,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Or Boothia Felix&mdash;happy clime of ice!</div>
-      <div class="verse">For Trebizond, or distant Scanderoon,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Ceylon, or Java redolent of spice,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or settling, neighbour of the Cape baboon,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or roaming o’er&mdash;The Mountains of the Moon!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“What matters where? my world no longer owns</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">That dear meridian spot from which I dated</div>
-      <div class="verse">Degrees of distance, hemispheres, and zones,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A globe all blank and barren and belated.</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">What matters where my future life be fated?</div>
-      <div class="verse">With Lapland hordes, or Koords or Afric peasant,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A squatter in the western woods located,</div>
-      <div class="verse">What matters where? My bias, at the present,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Leans to the country that reveres the Crescent!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Farewell! and if for ever, fare thee well!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">As wrote another of my fellow-martyrs:</div>
-      <div class="verse">I ask no sexton for his passing-bell,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">I do not ask your tear-drops to be starters,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">However I may die, transfix’d by Tartars,</div>
-      <div class="verse">By Cobras poisoned, by Constrictors strangled,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">By shark or cayman snapt above the garters,</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">By royal tiger or Cape lion mangled,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or starved to death in the wild woods entangled,</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Or tortured slowly at an Indian stake,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Or smother’d in the sandy hot simoom,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or crush’d in Chili by earth’s awful quake,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Or baked in lava, a Vesuvian tomb,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Or dirged by syrens and the billows’ boom</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or stiffen’d to a stock mid Alpine snows,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Or stricken by the plague with sudden doom,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or suck’d by Vampyres to a last repose,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or self-destroy’d, impatient of my woes,</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Still fare you well, however I may fare,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A fare perchance to the Lethean shore,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Caught up by rushing whirlwinds in the air,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Or dash’d down cataracts with dreadful roar:</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Nay, this warm heart, once yours unto the core,</div>
-      <div class="verse">This hand you should have claim’d in church or minster</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Some cannibal may gnaw”&mdash;she read no more&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Prone on the carpet fell the senseless spinster,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Losing herself, as ’twere, in Kidderminster!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Of course of such a fall the shock was great,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">In rush’d the father, panting from the shop,</div>
-      <div class="verse">In rush’d the mother, without cap or tête,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Pursued by Betty Housemaid with her mop;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The cook to change her apron did not stop,</div>
-      <div class="verse">The charwoman next scrambled up the stair,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">All help to lift, to haul, to seat, to prop,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And then they stand and smother round the chair,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Exclaiming in a chorus, “Give her air!”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">One sears her nostrils with a burning feather,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Another rams a phial up her nose;</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">A third crooks all her finger-joints together,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A fourth rips her up laces and her bows,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">While all by turns keep trampling on her toes,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And, when she gasps for breath, they pour in plump</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A sudden drench that down her thorax goes,</div>
-      <div class="verse">As if in fetching her&mdash;some wits so jump&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">She must be fetched with water like a pump!</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_313" name="i_313">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_313.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“SHE’S BLACK IN THE FACE!”</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">No wonder that thus drench’d, and wrench’d, and gall’d,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">As soon as possible from syncope’s fetter</div>
-      <div class="verse">Her senses had the sense to be recall’d,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">“I’m better&mdash;that will do&mdash;indeed I’m better,”</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">She cried to each importunate besetter;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Meanwhile, escaping from the stir and smother,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The prudent parent seized the lover’s letter,</div>
-      <div class="verse">(Daughters should have no secrets with a Mother)</div>
-      <div class="verse">And read it thro’ from one end to the other.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">From first to last she never skipp’d a word&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">For young Lorenzo of all youths was one</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">So wise, so good, so moral she averr’d,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">So clever, quite above the common run&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">She made him sit by her, and call’d him son,</div>
-      <div class="verse">No matrimonial suit, e’en Duke’s or Earl’s,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">So flatter’d her maternal feelings&mdash;none!</div>
-      <div class="verse">For mothers always think young men are pearls</div>
-      <div class="verse">Who come and throw themselves before their girls.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_314" name="i_314">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_314.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">DECAPITATION.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">And now, at warning signal from her finger,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The servants most reluctantly withdrew,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But list’ning on the stairs contrived to linger;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">For Ellen, gazing round with eyes of blue,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">At last the features of her parent knew,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And summoning her breath and vocal pow’rs,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">“Oh, mother!” she exclaimed&mdash;“Oh, is it true&mdash;</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Our dear Lorenzo”&mdash;the dear name drew show’rs&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">“<i>Ours</i>,” cried the mother, “pray don’t call him ours!”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“I never liked him, never, in my days!”</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">[“Oh yes&mdash;you did”&mdash;said Ellen with a sob,]</div>
-      <div class="verse">“There always <i>was</i> a something in his ways&mdash;”</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">[“So sweet&mdash;so kind,” said Ellen, with a throb,]</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">“His very face was what I call a snob,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And, spite of West-end coats and pantaloons,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">He had a sort of air of the swell mob;</div>
-      <div class="verse">I’m sure when he has come of afternoons</div>
-      <div class="verse">To tea, I’ve often thought&mdash;I’ll watch my spoons!”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“The spoons!” cried Ellen, almost with a scream,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">“Oh cruel&mdash;false as cruel&mdash;and unjust!</div>
-      <div class="verse">He that once stood so high in your esteem!”</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">“He!” cried the dame, grimacing her disgust,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">“I like him?&mdash;yes&mdash;as any body must</div>
-      <div class="verse">An infidel that scoffs at God and Devil:</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Didn’t he bring you Bonaparty’s bust?</div>
-      <div class="verse">Lord! when he calls I hardly can be civil&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse"><i>My</i> favourite was always Mr. Neville.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Lorenzo?&mdash;I should like, of earthly things,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">To see him hanging forty cubits high;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Doesn’t he write like Captain Rocks and Swings?</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Nay, in this very letter bid you try</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">To make yourself particular, and tie</div>
-      <div class="verse">A tail on&mdash;a prodigious tail!&mdash;Oh, daughter!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And don’t he ask you down his area&mdash;fie!</div>
-      <div class="verse">And recommend to cut your being shorter,</div>
-      <div class="verse">With brick-bats round your neck in ponds of water?”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Alas! to think how readers thus may vary</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A writer’s sense!&mdash;What mortal would have thought</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Lorenzo’s hint about Professor Airy</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And Pond to such a likeness could be brought!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Who would have dreamt the simple way he taught</div>
-      <div class="verse">To make a comet of poor Ellen’s moon,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Could furnish forth an image so distraught,</div>
-      <div class="verse">As Ellen, walking Regent Street at noon,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Tail’d&mdash;like a fat Cape sheep, or a racoon!</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_316" name="i_316">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_316.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“STICK AS YOU BE&mdash;THAT’S THE COMET.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">And yet, whate’er absurdity the brains</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">May hatch, it ne’er wants wet-nurses to suckle it!</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or dry ones, like a hen, to take the pains</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">To lead the nudity abroad, and chuckle it;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">No whim so stupid but some fool will buckle it</div>
-      <div class="verse">To jingle bell-like on his empty head,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">No mental mud&mdash;but some will knead and knuckle it,</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">And fancy they are making fancy-bread;&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">No ass has written, but some ass has read.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">No dolts could lead if others did not follow ’em.</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">No Hahnémann could give decillionth drops,</div>
-      <div class="verse">If any man could not be got to swallow ’em;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">But folly never comes to such full stops.</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">As soon, then, as the Mother made such swaps</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of all Lorenzo’s meanings, heads and tails,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The Father seized upon her malaprops&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">“My girl down areas&mdash;of a night! ’Ods nails!</div>
-      <div class="verse">I’ll stick the scoundrel on his area-rails!”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_317" name="i_317">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_317.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">TAILS OF THE HAUL BY CRAB.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“I will!&mdash;as sure as I was christen’d John!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A girl&mdash;well born&mdash;and bred,&mdash;and school’d at Ditton&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Accomplish’d&mdash;handsome&mdash;with a tail stuck on!</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">And chuck’d, Zounds! chuck’d in horseponds like a kitten</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">I wish I had been by when that was written!”&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And doubling to a fist each ample hand,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The empty air he boxed with, a-la-Bitton,</div>
-      <div class="verse">As if in training for a fight, long plann’d,</div>
-      <div class="verse">With Nobody&mdash;for love&mdash;at No Man’s Land!</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_318" name="i_318">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_318.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">A FOWL WIND.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“I’ll pond&mdash;I’ll tail him!”&mdash;In a voice of thunder</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">He recommenced his fury and his fuss,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Loud, open-mouth’d, and wedded to his blunder,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Like one of those great guns that end in buss.</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">“I’ll teach him to write ponds and tails to us!”</div>
-      <div class="verse">But while so menacing this-that-and-t’others,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">His wife broke in with certain truths, as thus:</div>
-      <div class="verse">“Men are not women&mdash;fathers can’t be mothers,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Females are females”&mdash;and a few such others.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">So saying, with rough nudges, willy-nilly,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">She hustled him outside the chamber-door,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Looking, it must be own’d, a little silly;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And then she did as the Carinthian boor</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Serves (Goldsmith says) the traveller that’s poor!</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse"><i>Id est</i>, she shut him in the outer space,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">With just as much apology&mdash;no more&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">As Boreas would present in such a case,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">For slamming the street door right in your face.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">And now, the secrets of the sex thus kept,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">What passed in that important tête-à-tête</div>
-      <div class="verse">’Twixt dam and daughter, nobody except</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Paul Pry, or his Twin Brother, could narrate&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">So turn we to Lorenzo, left of late,</div>
-      <div class="verse">In front of Mrs. Snelling’s sugar’d snacks,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">In such a very waspish stinging state,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But now at the Old Dragon, stretch’d on racks,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Fretting, and biting down his nails to tacks;</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Because that new fast four-inside&mdash;the Comet,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Instead of keeping its appointed time,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Had deviated some few minutes from it,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A thing with all astronomers a crime,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And he had studied in that lore sublime;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Nor did his heat get any less or shorter</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">For pouring upon passion’s unslaked lime</div>
-      <div class="verse">A well-grown glass of Cogniac and water,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Mix’d stiff as starch by the Old Dragon’s daughter.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">At length, “Fair Ellen” sounding with a flourish,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The Comet came all bright, bran new, and smart:</div>
-      <div class="verse">Meanwhile the melody conspired to nourish</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The hasty spirit in Lorenzo’s heart,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And soon upon the roof he “topped his part,”</div>
-      <div class="verse">Which never had a more impatient man on,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Wishing devoutly that the steeds would start</div>
-      <div class="verse">Like lightning greased,&mdash;or, as at Ballyshannon</div>
-      <div class="verse">Sublimed, “greased lightning shot out of a cannon.”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">For, ever since the letter left his hand,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">His mind had been in vacillating motion,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Dodge-dodging like a fluster’d crab on land,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">That cannot ask its way, and has no notion</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">If right or left leads to the German Ocean&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Hatred and Love by turns enjoy’d monopolies,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Till, like a Doctor following his own potion,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Before a learned pig could spell Acropolis,</div>
-      <div class="verse">He went and booked himself for our metropolis.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Oh, for a horse,” or rather four,&mdash;“with wings!”</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">For so he put the wish into the plural&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">No relish he retained for country things,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">He could not join felicity with rural,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">His thoughts were all with London and the mural,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Where architects&mdash;not paupers&mdash;heap and <i>pile</i> stones;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Or with the horses’ muscles, called the crural,</div>
-      <div class="verse">How fast they could macadamize the milestones</div>
-      <div class="verse">Which pass’d as tediously as gall or bile stones.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Blind to the picturesque, he ne’er perceived</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">In Nature one artistical fine stroke;</div>
-      <div class="verse">For instance, how that purple hill relieved</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The beggar-woman in the gipsy-poke,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And how the red cow carried off her cloak;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or how the aged horse, so gaunt and grey,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Threw off a noble mass of beech and oak!</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or, how the tinker’s ass, beside the way,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Came boldly out from a white cloud&mdash;to bray!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Such things have no delight for worried men,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">That travel full of care and anxious smart:</div>
-      <div class="verse">Coachmen and horses, are your artists then:</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Just try a team of draughtsmen with the Dart,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Take Shee, for instance, Etty, Jones, and Hart,</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Let every neck be put into its noose,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Then tip ’em on the flank to make ’em start,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And see how they will draw!&mdash;Four screws let loose</div>
-      <div class="verse">Would make a difference&mdash;or I’m a goose!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Nor cared he more about the promised crops,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">If oats were looking up, or wheat was laid,</div>
-      <div class="verse">For flies in turnip, or a blight in hops,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Or how the barley prosper’d or decay’d;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">In short, no items of the farming trade.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Peas, beans, tares, ’taters, could his mind beguile;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Nor did he answer to the servant maid,</div>
-      <div class="verse">That always asked at every other mile,</div>
-      <div class="verse">“Where do we change, Sir?” with her sweetest smile.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_321" name="i_321">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_321.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“LORD, JOHN, HERE’S A BURROW!”</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Nor more he listened to the Politician,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Who lectured on his left, a formal prig,</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Of Belgium’s, Greece’s, Turkey’s sad condition,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Not worth a cheese, an olive, or a fig;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Nor yet unto the critic, fierce and big,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Who, holding forth, all lonely, in his glory,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Called one a sad bad Poet&mdash;and a Whig,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And one, a first-rate proser&mdash;and a Tory;</div>
-      <div class="verse">So critics judge, now, of a song or story.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Nay, when the coachman spoke about the ’Leger,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Of Popsy, Mopsy, Bergamotte, and Civet,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of breeder, trainer, owner, backer, hedger,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And nags as right, or righter than a trivet,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The theme his crack’d attention could not rivet,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Though leaning forward to the man of whips,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">He seem’d to give an ear,&mdash;but did not give it,</div>
-      <div class="verse">For Ellen’s moon (that saddest of her slips)</div>
-      <div class="verse">Would not be hidden by a “new Eclipse.”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_322" name="i_322">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_322.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">THE HEAD WAITER AT HATCHETT’S.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">If any thought e’er flitted in his head</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Belonging to the sphere of Bland and Crocky,</div>
-      <div class="verse">It was to wish the team all thorough-bred,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And every buckle on their backs a jockey:</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">When spinning down a steep descent, or rocky,</div>
-      <div class="verse">He never watch’d the wheel, and long’d to lock it,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">He liked the bolters that set off so cocky:</div>
-      <div class="verse">Nor did it shake a single nerve or shock it</div>
-      <div class="verse">Because the Comet raced against the Rocket.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Thanks to which rivalry, at last the journey</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Finish’d an hour and a quarter under time,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Without a case for surgeon or attorney,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Just as St. James’s rang its seventh chime,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And now, descending from his seat sublime,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Behold Lorenzo, weariest of wights,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">In that great core of brick, and stone, and lime,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Call’d England’s Heart&mdash;but which, as seen of nights,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Has rather more th’ appearance of its lights.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_323" name="i_323">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_323.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">FREE TRADE.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Away he scudded&mdash;elbowing, perforce,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Thro’ cads, and lads, and many a Hebrew worrier,</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">With fruit, knives, pencils,&mdash;all dirt cheap of course,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Coachmen, and hawkers of the Globe and “Currier;”</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Away!&mdash;the cookmaid is not such a skurrier,</div>
-      <div class="verse">When, fit to split her gingham as she goes,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">With six just striking on the clock to hurry her,</div>
-      <div class="verse">She strides along with one of her three beaux,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To get well placed at “Ashley’s”&mdash;now Ducrow’s.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“I wonder if her moon is full to-night!”</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">He mutter’d, jealous as a Spanish Don,</div>
-      <div class="verse">When, lo!&mdash;to aggravate that inward spite,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">In glancing at a board he spied thereon</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A play-bill for dramatic folks to con,</div>
-      <div class="verse">In letters such as those may read, who run,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">“‘KING JOHN’&mdash;oh yes,&mdash;I recollect King John!</div>
-      <div class="verse">‘My Lord, they say five moons’&mdash;<i>five</i> moons!&mdash;well done!</div>
-      <div class="verse">I wonder Ellen was content with one!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Five moons&mdash;all full!&mdash;and all at once in heav’n!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">She should have lived in that prolific reign!”</div>
-      <div class="verse">Here he arrived in front of number seven,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Th’ abode of all his joy and all his pain;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A sudden tremor shot through every vein,</div>
-      <div class="verse">He wish’d he’d come up by the heavy waggon,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And felt an impulse to turn back again,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Oh, that he ne’er had quitted the Old Dragon!</div>
-      <div class="verse">Then came a sort of longing for a flagon.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">His tongue and palate seem’d so parch’d with drouth,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The very knocker fill’d his soul with dread,</div>
-      <div class="verse">As if it had a living lion’s mouth,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">With teeth so terrible, and tongue so red,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">In which he had engaged to put his head,</div>
-      <div class="verse">The bell-pull turn’d his courage into vapour,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">As though ’t would cause a shower-bath to shed</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Its thousand shocks, to make him sigh and caper&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">He look’d askance, and did not like the scraper.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“What business have I here? (he thought) a dunce</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A hopeless passion thus to fan and foster,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Instead of putting out its wick at once;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">She’s gone&mdash;it’s very evident I’ve lost her,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And to the wanton wind I should have toss’d her&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Pish! I will leave her with her moon, at ease,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">To toast and eat it, like a single Gloster,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or cram some fool with it, as good green cheese,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or make a honey-moon, if so she please.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Yes&mdash;here I leave her,” and as thus he spoke,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">He plied the knocker with such needless force,</div>
-      <div class="verse">It almost split the panel of sound oak;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And then he went as wildly through a course</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Of ringing, till he made abrupt divorce</div>
-      <div class="verse">Between the bell and its dumfounded handle,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Whilst up ran Betty, out of breath and hoarse,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And thrust into his face her blown-out candle,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To recognise the author of such scandal.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Who, presto! cloak, and carpet-bag to boot,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Went stumbling, rumbling, up the dark one pair,</div>
-      <div class="verse">With other noise than his whose “very foot</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Had music in’t as he came up the stair:”</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And then with no more manners than a bear,</div>
-      <div class="verse">His hat upon his head, no matter how,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">No modest tap his presence to declare,</div>
-      <div class="verse">He bolted in a room, without a bow,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And there sat Ellen, with a marble brow!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Like fond Medora, watching at her window,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Yet not of any Corsair bark in search&mdash;</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">The jutting lodging-house of Mrs. Lindo,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">“The Cheapest House in Town” of Todd and Sturch.</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The private house of Reverend Doctor Birch,</div>
-      <div class="verse">The public-house, closed nightly at eleven,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And then that house of prayer, the parish church,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Some roofs, and chimneys, and a glimpse of heaven,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Made up the whole look-out of Number Seven.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_326" name="i_326">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_326.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“MEET ME BY MOONLIGHT ALONE.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Yet something in the prospect so absorbed her,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">She seemed quite drowned and dozing in a dream;</div>
-      <div class="verse">As if her own belov’d full moon still orb’d her,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Lulling her fancy in some lunar scheme,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">With lost Lorenzo, may be, for its theme&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Yet when Lorenzo touch’d her on the shoulder,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">She started up with an abortive scream,</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">As if some midnight ghost, from regions colder,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Had come within his bony arms to fold her.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Lorenzo!” “Ellen!” then came “Sir!” and “Madam!”</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">They tried to speak, but hammer’d at each word,</div>
-      <div class="verse">As if it were a flint for great Mac Adam:</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Such broken English never else was heard,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">For like an aspen leaf each nerve was stirr’d,</div>
-      <div class="verse">A chilly tremor thrill’d them through and through,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Their efforts to be stiff were quite absurd,</div>
-      <div class="verse">They shook like jellies made without a due</div>
-      <div class="verse">And proper share of common joiner’s glue.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Ellen! I’m come&mdash;to bid you&mdash;fare&mdash;farewell!”</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">They thus began to fight their verbal duel;</div>
-      <div class="verse">“Since some more hap&mdash;hap&mdash;happy man must dwell&mdash;”</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">“Alas&mdash;Loren&mdash;Lorenzo!&mdash;cru&mdash;cru&mdash;cruel!”</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">For so they split their words like grits for gruel.</div>
-      <div class="verse">At last the Lover, as he long had plann’d,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Drew out that once inestimable jewel,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Her portrait, which was erst so fondly scann’d,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And thrust poor Ellen’s face into her hand.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“There&mdash;take it, Madam&mdash;take it back, I crave,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The face of one&mdash;but I must now forget her,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Bestow it on whatever hapless slave</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Your art has last enticed into your fetter&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And there are your epistles&mdash;there! each letter!</div>
-      <div class="verse">I wish no record of your vow’s infractions,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Send them to South&mdash;or Children&mdash;you had better&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">They will be novelties&mdash;rare benefactions!</div>
-      <div class="verse">To shine in Philosophical Transactions!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Take them&mdash;pray take them&mdash;I resign them quite!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And there’s the glove you gave me leave to steal&mdash;</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">And there’s the handkerchief, so pure and white,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Once sanctified by tears, when Miss O’Neill&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">But no&mdash;you did not&mdash;cannot&mdash;do not feel</div>
-      <div class="verse">A Juliet’s faith, that time could only harden!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Fool that I was, in my mistaken zeal!</div>
-      <div class="verse">I should have led you,&mdash;by your leave and pardon&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">To Bartley’s Orrery, not Covent Garden!”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_328" name="i_328">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_328.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“I RAN IT THRO’ E’EN FROM MY BOYISH DAYS.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“And here’s the birth-day ring&mdash;nor man nor devil</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Should once have torn it from my living hand,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Perchance ’twill look as well on Mr. Neville;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And that&mdash;and that is all&mdash;and now I stand</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Absolved of each dissever’d tie and band&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And so farewell, till Time’s eternal sickle</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Shall reap our lives; in this, or foreign land</div>
-      <div class="verse">Some other may be found for truth to stickle</div>
-      <div class="verse">Almost as fair&mdash;and not so false and fickle!”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">And there he ceased: as truly it was time,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">For of the various themes that left his mouth,</div>
-      <div class="verse">One half surpass’d her intellectual climb:</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">She knew no more than the old Hill of Howth</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">About that “Children of a larger growth,”</div>
-      <div class="verse">Who notes proceedings of the F. R. S.’s;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Kit North, was just as strange to her as South,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Except the south the weathercock expresses,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Nay, Bartley’s Orrery defied her guesses.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Howbeit some notion of his jealous drift</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">She gather’d from the simple outward fact,</div>
-      <div class="verse">That her own lap contained each slighted gift;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Though quite unconscious of his cause to act</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">So like Othello, with his face unblack’d;</div>
-      <div class="verse">“Alas!” she sobbed, “your cruel course I see</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">These faded charms no longer can attract;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Your fancy palls, and you would wander free,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And lay your own apostacy on me!”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“<i>I</i>, false!&mdash;unjust Lorenzo!&mdash;and to <i>you</i>!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Oh, all ye holy gospels that incline</div>
-      <div class="verse">The soul to truth, bear witness I am true!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">By all that lives, of earthly or divine&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">So long as this poor throbbing heart is mine&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse"><i>I</i> false!&mdash;the world shall change its course as soon!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">True as the streamlet to the stars that shine&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">True as the dial to the sun at noon,</div>
-      <div class="verse">True as the tide to ‘yonder blessed moon’!”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">And as she spoke, she pointed through the window,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Somewhere above the houses’ distant tops,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Betwixt the chimney-pots of Mrs. Lindo,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And Todd and Sturch’s cheapest of all shops</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">For ribbons, laces, muslins, silks, and fops:&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Meanwhile, as she upraised her face so Grecian,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And eyes suffused with scintillating drops,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Lorenzo looked, too, o’er the blinds venetian,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To see the sphere so troubled with repletion.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“The Moon!” he cried, and an electric spasm</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Seem’d all at once his features to distort,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And fix’d his mouth, a dumb and gaping chasm&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">His faculties benumb’d and all amort&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">At last his voice came, of most shrilly sort,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Just like a sea-gull’s wheeling round a rock&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">“Speak!&mdash;Ellen!&mdash;is your sight indeed so short?</div>
-      <div class="verse">The Moon!&mdash;Brute! savage that I am, and block!</div>
-      <div class="verse">The Moon! (O, ye Romantics, what a shock!)</div>
-      <div class="verse">Why that’s the new Illuminated Clock!”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_330" name="i_330">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_330.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">ST. BLAISE.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_331" name="i_331">
-   <img class="mtop3" src="images/i_331.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption">“THOSE EVENING BELLS.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<h2 class="nopad" id="THOSE_EVENING_BELLS">THOSE EVENING BELLS.<br />
-
-<span class="s6">“I’D BE A PARODY.”</span></h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">T<span class="smaller">HOSE</span> Evening Bells, those Evening Bells,</div>
-      <div class="verse">How many a tale their music tells,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of Yorkshire cakes and crumpets prime,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And letters only just in time!&mdash;</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">The Muffin-boy has pass’d away,</div>
-      <div class="verse">The Postman gone&mdash;and I must pay,</div>
-      <div class="verse">For down below Deaf Mary dwells,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And does not hear those Evening Bells,</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">And so ’twill be when she is gone,</div>
-      <div class="verse">That tuneful peal will still ring on,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And other maids with timely yells</div>
-      <div class="verse">Forget to stay those Evening Bells.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_332" name="i_332">
-   <img class="mtop3" src="images/i_332.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption">BALL-PRACTICE.</p>
-</div>
-
-<h2 class="nopad" id="LINES_TO_A_FRIEND">LINES<br />
-
-<span class="s6">TO A FRIEND AT COBHAM.</span></h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">’Tis pleasant, when we’ve absent friends,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Sometimes to hob and nob ’em</div>
-      <div class="verse">With Memory’s glass&mdash;at such a pass</div>
-      <div class="verse">Remember me at Cobham!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Have pigs you will, and sometimes kill,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But if you sigh and sob ’em,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And cannot eat your home-grown meat,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Remember me at Cobham!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Of hen and cock, you’ll have a stock,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And death will oft unthrob ’em,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">A country chick is good to pick&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Remember me at Cobham!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Some orchard trees of course you’ll lease</div>
-      <div class="verse">And boys will sometimes rob ’em,</div>
-      <div class="verse">A friend (you know) before a foe&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Remember me at Cobham!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">You’ll sometimes have wax-lighted rooms,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And friends of course to mob ’em,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Should you be short of such a sort,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Remember me at Cobham!</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_QUAKERS_CONVERSAZIONE">THE QUAKERS’
-CONVERSAZIONE.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="s5 mbot2">“Dost thou love silence, deep as that before the winds were made?
-Go not into the wilderness; descend not into the profundities of
-the earth; shut not up thy casements; nor pour wax into the cells
-of thine ears, with little-faith’d, self-mistrusting Ulysses.
-Retire with me into a Quakers’ Meeting.”&mdash;E<span class="smaller">SSAYS OF</span>
-E<span class="smaller">LIA</span>.</p>
-
-<p>I<span class="smaller">T</span> may not, or rather it cannot, be generally known, that an attempt
-was made last winter, by certain influential members of the Society of
-Friends, to establish a Conversazione at Tottenham, a neighbourhood
-especially favoured by that respectable and substantial sect. The idea
-originated with a junior female branch of the opulent family of the
-Mumfords, which has been seated, time out of mind, in the vicinity
-of Bruce Castle; the notion was broached to a select few of the
-sisterhood, during a Sabbath walk homewards from the conventicle: the
-suggestion was relished; and a conference was called, at which the
-scheme was seriously brought forward, and gravely considered. At first
-there was a little boggling at the proposed title, as savouring, it was
-thought, of Loquacity; but the objection was dropped, on an explanation
-that although the word implied conversation, no one would be bidden to
-discourse against their own inclination; nay that, even amongst other
-persuasions, the conversazioni were frequently as distant as possible
-from a Negro “Talk,” or a Red Indian “Palaver.” This little demur
-excepted, the plan went on swimmingly, and was finally adopted with the
-subdued hum which, in that quiet-loving community, is equivalent to
-acclama<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span>tions. A secretary was formally proposed, and tacitly chosen
-unanimously; being no other than the fair Foundress herself, the
-mild-spoken and meek-eyed Ruth Mumford. A few brief rules were then
-drawn up, and, after no debate, agreed to&mdash;some of them, considering
-the constitutional taciturnity of the sect, being sufficiently
-superfluous, as guarding against what Bubb Doddington called “a
-multiplicity of talk.” For instance, the 9th rule provided, that “no
-brother or sister should indulge in rambling irrelevant discourse,
-embracing a profusion of topics, wide of the matter in hand.” The
-10th, that “no two or more Friends should disburden themselves of
-speech at one and the same time;” and the 12th, that “no member of this
-society shall deliver himself or herself with unreasonable continuity,
-to the prevention of other Friends who might desire to speak to the
-matter.” From the list of subjects to be “spoken to” politics and
-polemics were excluded; but poetry was allowed, or at least connived
-at, the excellent example of Bernard Barton and the Howitts having
-happily relaxed the primitive rigour of that proscription. Besides,
-it was well known, between Friends, that several of the younger
-female members, the fair secretary included, occasionally struck, or
-rather, as Quakers ought not to strike anything, twanged the lyre.
-For the rest, the society was modelled after other private literary
-associations; it was to meet twice weekly, visiting the houses of the
-members in rotation, when original essays or papers were to be read,
-and afterwards discussed; provided always, that they afforded any
-Debateable Land to make a stand upon, seeing that at the end of the
-rules and regulations, a special article earnestly recommended, that in
-the selection of subjects all such topics should be avoided “as might
-lead to differences of opinion amongst the brethren.”</p>
-
-<p>Such was&mdash;for it is defunct&mdash;the Tottenham Friends’ Conversazione; of
-whose existence I became aware but by accident. It was my good fortune,
-till lately, to live next door to a family<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> of Quakers, and to make
-acquaintance with the eldest daughter, a young lively maiden just
-wearing out the last of her teens. I am afraid in the austere brown
-eyes of her parents she was not strictly considered as the flower of
-their flock, being a sort of nonconformist among nonconformists, as
-was especially to be seen in comparing her with her younger sisters,
-who seemed to have been brought up, or stuck up, under the most
-starched discipline. Instead of their plain close caps,&mdash;mere casts of
-their skulls taken in muslin,&mdash;she wore an airy fanciful structure of
-blonde and white ribbon, that a Parisian woman might have put on&mdash;at
-least of a morning. In lieu of their sleek mohair braids, her auburn
-ringlets flowed down her neck in all the “Unloveliness of Love-locks.”
-To her star-like hazel eyes she allowed a little planetary liberty
-of circulation; whereas it seemed the object of the others, to keep
-their demure brown orbs as immoveable in their faces, as bad halfpence
-nailed to counters. Instead of screwing up her lips, as if she had
-just come, minus a masticator, out of Cartwright’s into an east wind,
-she sometimes gave her ivory teeth an airing, by smiling at some
-innocent fancy, to which she would give utterance, without trying
-to send her clear sweet voice, by a New North-West Passage, through
-her nose. As for her figure, it was none of those shapes which have
-no shape, and may be swaddled up without detriment in dingy drabs,
-olives, slates, and snuffy browns,&mdash;shapes which nature makes on her
-basin-pudding days, instead of using her best jelly-moulds&mdash;shapes
-like the bonnet-shapes which balance baskets of live mackerel. To
-see the symmetrical Rachel standing near either of her sisters, you
-would think you beheld (borrowing a local image) Tottenham High Cross,
-beside the Waithman Obelisk. Accordingly, the orthodox warp of her
-glossy satin was always <i>shot</i> with a woof of some one of those gayer
-prismatic tints, to wear which is reckoned, among the severer Foxites,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span>
-“a profanation of the Rainbow, deserving a second deluge.” As will
-be seen hereafter, she put a little blue into her superfine silken
-hose; sometimes I even fancied that I detected a tinge of the more
-fleshy pink&mdash;in short, she was a Quakeress, but not of the sad-brown
-sort&mdash;only a brunette.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_336" name="i_336">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_336.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">DISCOVERY OF ORGANIC REMAINS.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>With the old Friends, her parents, I cannot boast that I was even on
-speaking terms; but with the lovely and lively Rachel my acquaintance
-had ripened even to the calling her by her Christian name; and the
-reciprocation of her thou and thee, to which I was led, not as a
-convertite, but from learning, in my French and German Grammars, that
-the use of the second person singular was an especial token of intimacy
-and affection. In this our neighbourly intercourse, a system of mutual
-accommodation sprang up between us, not by bills, but by books; for
-which she drew upon me by pretty little notes of hand, that I duly
-honoured, making them payable over the back garden<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span> wall. Drawings and
-pieces of new music were equally negotiable. If I remember rightly,
-it was in return for Moore’s Melodies&mdash;the exchange at the time being
-against me&mdash;that I received “Fox’s Martyrs.” It was rather a ponderous
-tome for a lover of light reading; and if St. Swithin’s Festival had
-not fallen on a very wet Sunday in the country, I might never have
-opened its leaves,&mdash;if indeed they did not open of themselves,&mdash;thus
-letting fall certain MSS. intrusted to their custody, and which I
-now proceed to make public. In a new edition of the “Curiosities of
-Literature” they would deserve a distinguished place.</p>
-
-<div class="section">
-
-<h3>MINUTES OF THE TOTTENHAM FRIENDS’ CONVERSAZIONE;</h3>
-
-</div>
-
-<p>E<span class="smaller">STABLISHED</span> with a view to sober, Intellectual, and Literary
-unbendings. Now first held, namely, on the fourteenth day of the
-eleventh month, one thousand eight hundred thirty and four. Brother
-Mumford, the Father of the present humble Pen, in the chair.</p>
-
-<p>A most powerful and worthy setting forth, both in regard of numbers
-and our proceedings. Firstly, a word in season from Friend Oliver.
-Secondly, a draft of the rules. Thirdly, an opening poem; meditation
-thereon until the tenth hour, when our sitting was completed. Many
-congratulations between the brethren on the order, quiet, and decency
-thereof; myself as its humble founder, very joyously elevated&mdash;even
-unto the shedding of tears.</p>
-
-<p>17. Some awkwardness on this night, arising out of the presentation of
-nine several Negroes’ Complaints to be read forth. Precedence yielded
-unto Sister Skeldrum’s complaint, in respect of her being so ancient,
-namely three-score and ten. After which, Sister Panyer’s was gone
-through, detaining us nearhand until our hour of dissolution. Friend
-Black in the chair.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>21. The Negro Complaints resumed, whereof three more were gotten
-over, Sister Fagg kindly taking turn about with me in the deliverance
-thereof. Friend Thorne in the chair.</p>
-
-<p>24. A spare meeting. The Negro Complaints brought to an end, save one;
-Sister Rumble consenting, on much persuasion, to reserve the Sorrows of
-Sambo for the Abolition Anniversary. Friend Woolley in the chair.</p>
-
-<p>28. Friend Greathead read forth an original paper on the Manners of the
-Beavers. Much meditation thereon. Friend Stillfox in the chair.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_338" name="i_338">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_338.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“BEAR ABOUT THE MOCKERY OF WOE.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>1-12. Friend Seagrave in the chair. Sister Meeking read forth her Essay
-on Silence, but in so humble a tone, that little thereof was taken
-inward at our ears. No debate thereon. Dorcas Fysche, a visitor, craved
-to know whether Friends, not being members, were permitted to speak on
-the subject, and was replied to in the affirmative. Whereupon she held
-her peace.</p>
-
-<p>5. Sister Knight read forth a self-composed addressing of herself unto
-Sleep. To which no objection was made by any present. Friend Knapp in
-the chair.</p>
-
-<p>8. On this night I plucked up courage, and essayed to read forth
-mine own Stanzas on Universal Love; but my voice failing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span> me in the
-midst, it was completely finished for me by Friend Thicknesse, who did
-perversely continue to pronounce <i>Jews</i> instead of <i>Dews</i>, whereof came
-absurdity. Above all in the line which singeth,&mdash;“Descend ye Dews on
-this my head.” And again,&mdash;“Ye painted Flies that suck the Dews.”</p>
-
-<p>12. No other member being prepared with originality, Sister Rumble read
-forth her Sorrows of Sambo. Much silent comment thereon. Brother Kersey
-in the chair, who shamefully suffered himself to be surprised with
-sleep.</p>
-
-<p>15. No lecturing, and, by course, no debate; only meditation. A
-call made to order against Friend Dilly, who was in the chair, for
-untimeliness in asking the price of Anglo-Mexicans at a quarter before
-ten.</p>
-
-<p>19. Sister Fetterlock being a visitor in expectancy, every one confined
-themselves unto Newgate. Several of the brethren declared their
-convictions. Friend Roper in the chair.</p>
-
-<p>22. No lecturing. Sister Rumble distributed Sambo’s Sorrows amongst us,
-one unto each; the which she had caused to be imprinted at her own risk
-and cost. Friend Boulter was the chair.</p>
-
-<p>26. No lecturing. It pleased our worthy Brother Upham, at his
-House of Welcome, to spread before us the creature comforts most
-abundantly, with a great out-pouring of the foreign luxury, which is
-called Champagne; the which was greatly discussed; and Brother Upham
-thereafter rebuked for the same, for that it was not of the kind which
-is still.</p>
-
-<p>29. Friend Stock read forth a narrative of his own Life and Personal
-Adventures, the which held us for half an hour. Some debate touching
-the imprinting of the same, at the cost of the Society, in the shape
-of a Tract; which was agreed to, but put off at the instance of Friend
-Stock himself, in order to give him time to live into the shape of a
-pamphlet. Friend Smallbones went through the chair.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>2-1-35. No assembly, by reason of the outrageous wind and hail,
-excepting Sister Rumble, with a new original poem, called “The Moral
-Gipsy.” The which she did read forth from the chair to my humble self
-and family, and our serving-man, Simon Dunny.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_340" name="i_340">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_340.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">HOPE DEFERRED.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>5. Friend Broadbent read forth, in part, an Essay on Innocent
-Jocularity; the which, in sundry passages, provoked dissentients, as
-tending to a defence of levity. A stiff debate thereon, in which all
-the brethren were agreeable to censure. Great merriment at Friend
-Sexton in his rebuking, saying, “Christian gravy,” instead of gravity,
-by a slip of the tongue.</p>
-
-<p>9. The remains of Innocent Jocularity brought on again in a decidedly
-grave way, and nothing savouring of offensive. Followed with silence.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>12. There were not sufficient friends to make a sitting, and no chair.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_341" name="i_341">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_341.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“IT CAN’T BE HELPED.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>16. At Sister Rumble’s by course of rotation. No other member present,
-save mine own self, as by duty bound. A deplorable falling away from
-the cause. Whereof more hereafter.</p>
-
-<p class="center mtop1 mbot1">*<span class="mleft3">*</span><span class="mleft3">*</span><span class="mleft3">*</span><span class="mleft3">*</span><span class="mleft3">*</span></p>
-
-<p class="mbot2">The Record here breaks off. The society probably did not proceed
-farther, but died on the spot, of a complication of Innocent Jocularity
-and Sister Rumble, and was buried tacitly, with the fair Ruth Mumford
-for its chief mourner. The other papers are in verse, and a reading of
-them will certainly persuade the reviewers that they were premature
-in applying the designation of “Quaker Poetry” to foregone lays and
-lyrics. The first is a genuine brown study after nature; the second a
-hint how Peace ought <i>not</i> to be proclaimed.</p>
-
-<div class="section">
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span></p>
-
-<h3>SONNET.<br />
-
-<span class="s6">BY R. M.</span></h3>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">H<span class="smaller">OW</span> sweet thus clad, in Autumn’s mellow Tone,</div>
-      <div class="verse">With serious Eye, the russet Scene to view!</div>
-      <div class="verse">No Verdure decks the Forest, save alone</div>
-      <div class="verse">The sad green Holly, and the olive Yew.</div>
-      <div class="verse">The Skies, no longer of a garish Blue,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Subdued to Dove-like Tints, and soft as Wool,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Reflected show their slaty Shades anew</div>
-      <div class="verse">In the drab Waters of the clayey Pool.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Meanwhile yon Cottage Maiden wends to School,</div>
-      <div class="verse">In Garb of Chocolate so neatly drest,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And Bonnet puce, fit object for the Tool,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And chasten’d Pigments, of our Brother West;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Yea, all is silent, sober, calm, and cool,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Save gaudy Robin with his crimson Breast.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<h3>LINES<br />
-
-<span class="s6">ON THE CELEBRATION OF PEACE.</span><br />
-
-<span class="s6">BY DORCAS DOVE.</span></h3>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A<span class="smaller">ND</span> is it thus ye welcome Peace,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">From Mouths of forty-pounding Bores?</div>
-      <div class="verse">Oh cease, exploding Cannons, cease!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Lest Peace, affrighted, shun our shores!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Not so the quiet Queen should come;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">But like a Nurse to still our Fears,</div>
-      <div class="verse">With Shoes of List, demurely dumb,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And Wool or Cotton in her Ears!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">She asks for no triumphal Arch;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">No Steeples for their ropy Tongues;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Down, Drumsticks, down, She needs no March,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Or blasted Trumps from brazen Lungs.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">She wants no Noise of mobbing Throats</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">To tell that She is drawing nigh;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Why this Parade of scarlet Coats,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">When War has closed his bloodshot Eye?</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Returning to Domestic Loves,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">When War has ceased with all its Ills,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Captains should come like sucking Doves,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">With Olive Branches in their Bills.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_343" name="i_343">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_343.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">A GENERAL PEACE.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">No need there is of vulgar Shout,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Bells, Cannons, Trumpets, Fife, and Drum,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And Soldiers marching all about,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">To let Us know that Peace is come.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Oh mild should be the Signs and meek,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Sweet Peace’s Advent to proclaim!</div>
-      <div class="verse">Silence her noiseless Foot should speak,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And Echo should repeat the same.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Lo! where the Soldier walks, alas!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">With Scars received on Foreign Grounds;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Shall we consume in Coloured Glass</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The Oil that should be pour’d in Wounds?</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">The bleeding Gaps of War to close,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Will whizzing Rocket-Flight avail?</div>
-      <div class="verse">Will Squibs enliven Orphans’ Woes?</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Or Crackers cheer the Widow’s Tale?</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="SKETCHES_ON_THE_ROAD_THE_MORNING_CALL">SKETCHES ON THE ROAD.<br />
-
-<span class="s6">THE MORNING CALL.</span></h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p>I <span class="smaller">CANNOT</span> conceive any prospect more agreeable to a weary traveller
-than the approach to <i>Bedfordshire</i>. Each valley reminds him of Sleepy
-Hollow, the fleecy clouds seem like blankets, the lakes and ponds are
-clean sheets; the setting sun looks like a warming-pan. He dreams of
-dreams to come. His travelling-cap transforms to a night-cap, the coach
-lining feels softlier squabbed; the guard’s horn plays “Lullaby.” Every
-flower by the road-side is a poppy. Each jolt of the coach is but a
-drowsy stumble up stairs. The lady opposite is the chamber-maid; the
-gentleman beside her is Boots. He slides into imaginary slippers; he
-winks and nods flirtingly at Sleep, so soon to be his own. Although the
-wheels may be rattling into vigilant Wakefield, it appears to him to be
-sleepy Ware, with its great Bed, a whole County of Down, spread<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span> “all
-before him where to choose his place of rest.”</p>
-
-<p>It was in a similar mood, after a long dusty droughty dog-day’s
-journey, that I entered the Dolphin, at Bedhampton. I nodded in at the
-door, winked at the lights, blinked at the company in the coffee-room,
-yawned for a glass of negus, swallowed it with my eyes shut, as though
-it had been “a pint of nappy,” surrendered my boots, clutched a
-candlestick, and blundered, slipshod, up the stairs to number nine.</p>
-
-<p>Blessed be the man, says Sancho Panza, who first invented sleep: and
-blessed be heaven that he did not take out a patent, and keep his
-discovery to himself. My clothes dropped off me: I saw through a drowsy
-haze the likeness of a four-poster: “Great Nature’s second course” was
-spread before me; and I fell to without a long grace!</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Here’s a body&mdash;there’s a bed!</div>
-      <div class="verse">There’s a pillow&mdash;here’s a head!</div>
-      <div class="verse">There’s a curtain&mdash;here’s a light!</div>
-      <div class="verse">There’s a puff&mdash;and so Good Night!</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p>It would have been gross improvidence to waste more words on the
-occasion; for I was to be roused up again at four o’clock the next
-morning to proceed by the early coach. I determined, therefore, to do
-as much sleep within the interval as I could; and in a minute, short
-measure, I was with that mandarin, Morpheus, in his Land of Nod.</p>
-
-<p>How intensely we sleep when we are fatigued! Some as sound as tops,
-others as fast as churches. For my own part I must have slept as fast
-as a Cathedral,&mdash;as fast as Young Rapid wished his father to slumber:
-nay as fast as the French veteran who dreams over again the whole
-Russian campaign while dozing in his sentry-box. I must have slept as
-fast as a fast post-coach in my four-poster&mdash;or rather I must have
-slept “like winkin,” for I seemed hardly to have closed my eyes, when a
-voice cried<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span> “Sleep no more!”</p>
-
-<p>It was that of Boots, calling and knocking at the door, whilst through
-the keyhole a ray of candlelight darted into my chamber.</p>
-
-<p>“Who’s there?”</p>
-
-<p>“It’s me, your honour, I humbly ax pardon&mdash;but somehow I’ve oversleeped
-myself, and the coach be gone by!”</p>
-
-<p>“The devil it is!&mdash;then I have lost my place!”</p>
-
-<p>“No, not exactly, your honour. She stops a bit at the Dragon, t’other
-end o’ the town; and if your honour wouldn’t object to a bit of a run&mdash;”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s enough&mdash;come in. Put down the light&mdash;and take up that bag&mdash;my
-coat over your arm&mdash;and waistcoat with it&mdash;and that cravat.”</p>
-
-<p>Boots acted according to orders. I jumped out of bed&mdash;pocketed my
-nightcap&mdash;screwed on my stockings&mdash;plunged into my trowsers&mdash;rammed
-my feet into wrong right and left boots&mdash;tumbled down the back
-stairs&mdash;burst through a door, and found myself in the fresh air of
-the stable-yard, holding a lantern, which, in sheer haste, or spleen,
-I pitched into the horsepond. Then began the race, during which I
-completed my toilet, running and firing a verbal volley at Boots, as
-often as I could spare breath for one.</p>
-
-<p>“And you call this waking me up&mdash;for the coach. My waistcoat!&mdash;Why I
-could wake myself&mdash;too late&mdash;without being called. Now my cravat&mdash;and
-be hanged to you!&mdash;Confound that stone!&mdash;and give me my coat. A
-nice road&mdash;for a run!&mdash;I suppose you keep it&mdash;on purpose. How many
-gentlemen&mdash;may you do a week?&mdash;I’ll tell you what. If I&mdash;run&mdash;a
-foot&mdash;further&mdash;”</p>
-
-<p>I paused for wind; while Boots had stopped of his own accord. We
-had turned a corner into a small square; and on the opposite side,
-certainly stood an inn with the sign of the Dragon, but without
-any sign of a coach at the door. Boots stood beside me aghast, and
-surveying the house from the top<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span> to the bottom; not a wreath of smoke
-came from a chimney; the curtains were closed over every window,
-and the door was closed and shuttered. I could hardly contain my
-indignation when I looked at the infernal somnolent visage of the
-fellow, hardly yet broad awake&mdash;he kept rubbing his black-lead eyes
-with his hands, as if he would have rubbed them out.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, you may well look&mdash;you have overslept yourself with a vengeance.
-The coach must have passed an hour ago&mdash;and they have all gone to bed
-again!”</p>
-
-<p>“No, there be no coach, sure enough,” soliloquised Boots, slowly
-raising his eyes from the road, where he had been searching for the
-track of recent wheels, and fixing them with a deprecating expression
-on my face. “No, there’s no coach&mdash;I ax a thousand pardons, your
-honour&mdash;but you see, Sir, what with waiting on her, and talking on her,
-and expecting on her, and giving notice on her, every night of my life,
-your honour&mdash;why I sometimes dreams on her&mdash;and that’s the case as is
-now!”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_347" name="i_347">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_347.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“YOU’VE WAKED ME TOO SOON,<br />
-  I MUST SLUMBER AGAIN.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_348" name="i_348">
-   <img class="mtop3" src="images/i_348.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption">A STUFFED BIRD.</p>
-</div>
-
-<h2 class="nopad" id="THE_LAMENT_OF_TOBY">THE LAMENT OF TOBY,<br />
-
-<span class="s6">THE LEARNED PIG.</span></h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="s5 center mbot1">“A little learning is a dangerous
-thing.”&mdash;P<span class="smaller">OPE</span>.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">O <span class="smaller">HEAVY</span> day! oh day of woe!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">To misery a poster,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Why was I ever farrow’d&mdash;why</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Not spitted for a roaster?</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">In this world, pigs, as well as men,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Must dance to fortune’s fiddlings,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But must I give the classics up,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">For barley-meal and middlings?</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Of what avail that I could spell</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And read, just like my betters,</div>
-      <div class="verse">If I must come to this at last,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">To litters, not to letters?</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">O, why are pigs made scholars of?</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">It baffles my discerning,</div>
-      <div class="verse">What griskins, fry, and chitterlings</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Can have to do with learning.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Alas! my learning once drew cash,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">But public fame’s unstable,</div>
-      <div class="verse">So I must turn a pig again,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And fatten for the table.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">To leave my literary line</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">My eyes get red and leaky;</div>
-      <div class="verse">But Giblett doesn’t want me <i>blue</i>,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">But red and white, and streaky</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Old Mullins used to cultivate</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">My learning like a gard’ner;</div>
-      <div class="verse">But Giblett only thinks of lard,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And not of Doctor Lardner!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">He does not care about my brain</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The value of two coppers,</div>
-      <div class="verse">All that he thinks about my head</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Is, how I’m off for choppers.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Of all my literary kin</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A farewell must be taken,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Goodbye to the poetic Hogg!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The philosophic Bacon!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Day after day my lessons fade,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">My intellect gets muddy;</div>
-      <div class="verse">A trough I have, and not a desk,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A sty&mdash;and not a study!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Another little month, and then</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">My progress ends like Bunyan’s;</div>
-      <div class="verse">The seven sages that I loved</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Will be chopp’d up with onions!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Then over head and ears in brine</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">They’ll souse me, like a salmon,</div>
-      <div class="verse">My mathematics turned to brawn,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">My logic into gammon.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">My Hebrew will all retrograde,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Now I’m put up to fatten;</div>
-      <div class="verse">My Greek, it will all go to grease;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The Dogs will have my Latin!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Farewell to Oxford!&mdash;and to Bliss!</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">To Milman, Crowe, and Glossop,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">I now must be content with chats,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Instead of learned gossip!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Farewell to “Town!” farewell to “Gown!”</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">I’ve quite outgrown the latter,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Instead of Trencher-cap my head</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Will soon be in a platter!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">O why did I at Brazen-Nose</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Rout up the roots of knowledge?</div>
-      <div class="verse">A butcher that can’t read will kill</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">A pig that’s been to college!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">For sorrow I could stick myself,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">But conscience is a clasher;</div>
-      <div class="verse">A thing that would be rash in man,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">In me would be a rasher!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">One thing I ask when I am dead,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">And past the Stygian ditches&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And that is, let my schoolmaster</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Have one of my two flitches:</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">’Twas he who taught my letters so</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">I ne’er mistook or miss’d ’em,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Simply by <i>ringing</i> at the nose,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">According to <i>Bell’s</i> system.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_351" name="i_351">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_351.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">THE LEARNED PIG GROWN OUT OF KNOWLEDGE.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="TO_A_BAD_RIDER">TO A BAD RIDER.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7">I.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">W<span class="smaller">HY</span>, Mr. Rider, why</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Your nag so ill indorse, man?</div>
-      <div class="verse">To make observers cry,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">You’re mounted, but no horseman?</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft7">II.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">With elbows out so far,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">This thought you can’t debar me&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Though no Dragoon&mdash; Hussar&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">You’re surely of the army!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7">III.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">I hope to turn M.P.</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">You have not any notion,</div>
-      <div class="verse">So awkward you would be</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">At “seconding a motion!”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_352" name="i_352">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_352.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">OUT AT ELBOWS.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="MY_SON_AND_HEIR">MY SON AND HEIR.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7">I.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">M<span class="smaller">Y</span> mother bids me bind my heir,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But not the trade where I should bind;</div>
-      <div class="verse">To place a boy&mdash;the how and where&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">It is the plague of parent-kind!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft7">II.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">She does not hint the slightest plan,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Nor what indentures to endorse;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Whether to bind him to a man,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or, like Mazeppa, to a horse.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_353" name="i_353">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_353.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">SON AND HAIR.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7">III.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">What line to choose of likely rise,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To something in the Stocks at last,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">“Fast bind, fast find,” the proverb cries,</div>
-      <div class="verse">I find I cannot bind so fast!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7">IV.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A Statesman James can never be;</div>
-      <div class="verse">A Tailor?&mdash;there I only learn</div>
-      <div class="verse">His chief concern is cloth, and he</div>
-      <div class="verse">Is always cutting his concern.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft7">V.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A Seedsman?&mdash;I’d not have him so;</div>
-      <div class="verse">A Grocer’s plum might disappoint;</div>
-      <div class="verse">A Butcher?&mdash;no, not that&mdash;although</div>
-      <div class="verse">I hear “the times are out of joint!”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7">VI.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Too many of all trades there be,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Like Pedlars, each has such a pack,</div>
-      <div class="verse">A merchant selling coals?&mdash;we see</div>
-      <div class="verse">The buyer send to cellar back.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7">VII.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A Hardware dealer?&mdash;that might please,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But if his trade’s foundation leans</div>
-      <div class="verse">On spikes and nails, he won’t have ease</div>
-      <div class="verse">When he retires upon his means.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7">VIII.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A Soldier?&mdash;there he has not nerves</div>
-      <div class="verse">A Sailor seldom lays up pelf:</div>
-      <div class="verse">A Baker?&mdash;no, a baker serves</div>
-      <div class="verse">His customer before himself.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7">IX.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Dresser of hair?&mdash;that’s not the sort;</div>
-      <div class="verse">A joiner jars with his desire&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">A Churchman?&mdash;James is very short,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And cannot to a church aspire.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7">X.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A Lawyer?&mdash;that’s a hardish term!</div>
-      <div class="verse">A Publisher might give him ease,</div>
-      <div class="verse">If he could into Longman’s firm</div>
-      <div class="verse">Just plunge at once “in medias Rees.”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft7">XI.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A shop for pot, and pan, and cup,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Such brittle Stock I can’t advise;</div>
-      <div class="verse">A Builder running houses up,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Their gains are stories&mdash;may be lies!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7">XII.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A Coppersmith I can’t endure&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Nor petty Usher A, B, C-ing;</div>
-      <div class="verse">A Publican no father sure,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Would be the author of his being!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7">XIII.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A Paper-maker?&mdash;come he must</div>
-      <div class="verse">To rags before he sells a sheet&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">A Miller?&mdash;all his toil is just</div>
-      <div class="verse">To make a meal&mdash;he does not eat.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7">XIV.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A Currier?&mdash;that by favour goes&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">A Chandler gives me great misgiving&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">An Undertaker?&mdash;one of those</div>
-      <div class="verse">That do not hope to get their living!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7">XV.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Three Golden Balls?&mdash;I like them not;</div>
-      <div class="verse">An Auctioneer I never did&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">The victim of a slavish lot,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Obliged to do as he is bid!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7">XVI.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A Broker watching fall and rise</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of Stock?&mdash;I’d rather deal in stone,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">A Printer?&mdash;there his toils comprise</div>
-      <div class="verse">Another’s work beside his own.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft7">XVII.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A Cooper?&mdash;neither I nor Jem</div>
-      <div class="verse">Have any taste or turn for that,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">A fish retailer?&mdash;but with him,</div>
-      <div class="verse">One part of trade is always flat.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_356" name="i_356">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_356.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">THE FAMILY LIBRARY.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7">XVIII.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A Painter?&mdash;long he would not live,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">An Artist’s a precarious craft&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">In trade Apothecaries give,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But very seldom take, a draught.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse mleft7">XIX.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">A Glazier?&mdash;what if he should smash!</div>
-      <div class="verse">A Crispin he shall not be made&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">A Grazier may be losing cash,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Although he drives “a roaring trade.”</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7">XX.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Well, something must be done! to look</div>
-      <div class="verse">On all my little works around&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">James is too big a boy, like book,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To leave upon the shelf unbound.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse mleft7">XXI.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">But what to do?&mdash;my temples ache</div>
-      <div class="verse">From evening’s dew till morning’s pearl,</div>
-      <div class="verse">What course to take my boy to make&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Oh could I make my boy&mdash;a girl!</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_357" name="i_357">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_357.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">SON AND SHADE.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="LITERARY_REMINISCENCES_IV">LITERARY REMINISCENCES.<br />
-
-<span class="s6">No. IV.</span></h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza-heading">
-      <div class="verse">“And are ye sure the news is true?</div>
-      <div class="verse">And are ye sure he’s weel?”&mdash;O<span class="smaller">LD</span>
-        S<span class="smaller">COTCH</span> S<span class="smaller">ONG</span>.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p>T<span class="smaller">HE</span> great Doctor Johnson&mdash;himself a sufferer&mdash;has pathetically
-described, in an essay on the miseries of an infirm constitution, the
-melancholy case of an Invalid, with a willing mind in a weak body.
-“The time of such a man,” he says, “is spent in forming schemes which
-a change of wind prevents him from executing; his powers fume away in
-projects and in hope, and the day of action never arrives. He lies down
-delighted with the thoughts of to-morrow; but in the night the skies
-are overcast; the temper of the air is changed; he wakes in languor,
-impatience, and distraction; and has no longer any wish but for ease,
-nor any attention but for misery.” In short the Rambler describes the
-whole race of Valetudinarians as a sort of great Bitumen Company,
-paving a certain nameless place, as some of the Asphalticals have paved
-Oxford Street, with not very durable good intentions. In a word, your
-Invalid promises like a Hogamy, and performs like a Pigamy.</p>
-
-<p>To a hale hearty man, a perfect picture of health in an oaken frame,
-such abortions seem sufficiently unaccountable. A great hulking
-fellow, revelling as De Quincey used emphatically to say, “in rude
-<span class="smaller">BOVINE</span> health,”&mdash;a voracious human animal, camel-stomached and
-iron-built, who could all but devour and digest himself like a Kilkenny
-cat,&mdash;can neither sympathise with nor understand those frequent
-failures and down-breakings which happen to beings not so fortunately
-gifted with indelicate constitutions. Such a half-horse half-alligator
-monster cannot judge, like a <i>Puny</i> Judge, of a case of feebleness. The
-broad-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span>chested cannot allow for the narrow-breasted; the robust for the
-no-bust. Nevertheless, even the stalwart may sometimes fall egregiously
-short of their own designs&mdash;as witness a case in point.</p>
-
-<p>Amongst my fellow passengers, on a late sea-voyage, there was one who
-attracted my especial attention. A glance at his face, another at his
-figure, a third at his costume, and a fourth at his paraphernalia,
-sufficed to detect his country: by his light hair, nubbly features,
-heavy frame, odd-coloured dressing-gown, and the national meerschaum
-and gaudy tobacco-bag, he was undeniably a German. But, besides
-the everlasting pipe, he was provided with a sketching apparatus,
-an ample note book, a gun, and a telescope; the whole being placed
-ready for immediate use. He had predetermined, no doubt, to record
-his German sentiments on first making acquaintance with the German
-Ocean; to sketch the picturesque craft he might encounter on its
-surface; to shoot his first sea-gull; and to catch a first glimpse of
-the shores of Albion, beyond the reach of the naked eye. But alas!
-all these intentions fell&mdash;if one may correctly say so with only
-sky and water&mdash;to the ground. He ate nothing&mdash;drank nothing&mdash;smoked
-nothing&mdash;drew nothing&mdash;wrote nothing&mdash;shot nothing&mdash;spied nothing&mdash;nay,
-he merely stared, but replied nothing to my friendly inquiry (I am ill
-at the German tongue and its pronunciation) “Wie befinden <i>sea sick</i>?”</p>
-
-<p>Now, my own case, gentle reader, has been precisely akin to that of our
-unfortunate Cousin German. Like him I have promised much, projected
-still more, and done little. Like him, too, I have been a sick man,
-though not at sea, but on shore&mdash;and in excuse of all that has been
-left undone, or delayed, with other Performers, when they do not
-perform, I must proffer the old theatrical plea of indisposition. As
-the Rambler describes, I have erected schemes which have been blown
-down by an <i>ill</i> wind; I have formed plans, and been weather-beaten,
-like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span> another Murphy, by a change in the weather. For instance, the
-Comic Annual for 1839 ought properly to have been published some forty
-days earlier; but was obliged, as it were, to perform quarantine, for
-want of a clean Bill of Health. Thus, too, the patron of the present
-Work who has taken the trouble to peruse certain chapters under the
-title of Literary Reminiscences, will doubtless have compared the tone
-of them with an Apology in Number Six, wherein, declining any attempt
-at an Auto-biography, a promise was made of giving such anecdotes as
-a bad memory and a bad hearing might have retained of my literary
-friends and acquaintance. Hitherto, however, the fragments in question
-have only presented desultory glimpses of a goose quill still in its
-green-gosling-hood, instead of any recollections of “celebrated pens.”
-The truth is that my malady forced me to temporise:&mdash;wherefore the
-kind reader will be pleased to consider the aforesaid chapters but as
-so many “false starts,” and that Memory has only now got away, to make
-play as well as she can.</p>
-
-<p>Whilst I am thus closeted in the Confessional, it may be as well, as
-the Pelican said, to make a clean breast of it, and at once plead
-guilty to all those counts&mdash;and some from long-standing have become
-very Old Bailey counts&mdash;that haunt my conscience. The most numerous
-of these crimes relate to letters that would not, could not, or at
-least did not answer. Others refer to the receipt of books, and as an
-example of their heinousness it misgives me that I was favoured with a
-little volume by W. and M. Howitt, without ever telling them <i>how-it</i>
-pleased me. A few offences, concern engagements which it was impossible
-to fulfil, although doubly bound by principle and interest. Seriously
-I have perforce been guilty of many, many, and still many sins of
-omission: but Hope, reviving with my strength, promises, granting me
-life, to redeem all such pledges. In the mean time, in extenuation,
-I can only plead particularly that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span> deprecation which is offered up,
-in behalf of all Christian defaulters every Sunday,&mdash;“We have left
-undone those things which we ought to have done,&mdash;<i>And there is no</i>
-H<span class="smaller">EALTH</span> <i>in us</i>.”</p>
-
-<p>It is pleasant after a match at Chess, particularly if we have won,
-to try back, and reconsider those important moves which have had a
-decisive influence on the result. It is still more interesting, in the
-game of Life, to recall the critical positions which have occurred
-during its progress, and review the false or judicious steps that have
-led to our subsequent good or ill fortune. There is, however, this
-difference, that chess is a matter of pure skill and calculation,
-whereas, the chequered board of human life is subject to the caprice
-of Chance&mdash;the event being sometimes determined by combinations which
-never entered into the mind of the player<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a>. To such an accident it
-is perhaps attributable that the hand now tracing these reminiscences
-is holding a pen instead of an etching-point; jotting down these prose
-pleasures of memory, in lieu of furnishing articles “plated-on-steel,”
-for the pictorial periodicals.</p>
-
-<p>It will be remembered that my mental constitution, however weak my
-physical one, was proof against that type-us fever which parches most
-scribblers till they are set up, done up, and may-be, cut-up, in print
-and boards. Perhaps I had read, and trembled at the melancholy annals
-of those unfortunates who, rashly undertaking to write for bread,
-had poisoned themselves, like Chatterton, for want of it, or choked
-themselves, like Otway, on obtaining it. Possibly, having learned to
-think humbly of myself&mdash;there is nothing like early sickness and sorrow
-for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span> “taking the conceit” out of one&mdash;my vanity did not presume to
-think, with certain juvenile Tracticians, that I “had a call” to hold
-forth in print for the edification of mankind. Perchance, the very
-deep reverence my reading had led me to entertain for our Bards and
-Sages, deterred me from thrusting myself into the fellowship of Beings
-that seemed only a little lower than the angels. However, in spite of
-that very common excuse for publication, “the advice of a friend,”
-who seriously recommended the submitting of my MSS. to a literary
-authority, with a view to his imprimatur, my slight acquaintance with
-the press was pushed no farther. On the contrary, I had selected a
-branch of the Fine Arts for my serious pursuit. Prudence, the daughter
-of Wisdom, whispering perhaps, that the engraver, Pye, had a better
-chance of a beefsteak inside, than Pye the Laureate; not that the
-verse-spinning was quite given up. Though working in <i>aqua fortis</i>,
-I still played with Castaly, now writing&mdash;all monkeys are imitators,
-and all young authors are monkeys&mdash;now writing a Bandit, to match
-the Corsair, and anon, hatching a Lalla Crow, by way of companion
-to Lalla Rookh. Moreover, about this time, I became a member of a
-private select Literary Society (alluded to at page 97 of the present
-work) that “waited on Ladies and Gentlemen at their own houses.” Our
-Minerva, allegorically speaking, was a motley personage, in blue
-stockings, a flounced gown, Quaker cap, and kerchief, French flowers,
-and a man’s hat. She held a fan in one hand, and a blowpipe in the
-other. Her votaries were of both sexes, old and young, married and
-single, assenters, dissenters, High Church, Low Church, No Church;
-Doctors in Physics, and Apothecaries in Metaphysics; dabblers in
-Logic, Chemistry, Casuistry, Sophistry, Natural and unnatural History,
-Phrenology, Geology, Conchology, Demonology; in short, all kinds of
-Colledgy-Knowledgy-Ology, including “Cakeology,” and tea and coffee.
-Like other Societies, we had our President&mdash;a sort of Speaker who
-never<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span> spoke; at least within my experience he never unbosomed himself
-of anything but a portentous shirt frill. According to the usual order
-of the entertainment, there was&mdash;first, Tea and Small Talk; secondly,
-an original Essay, which should have been followed, thirdly, by a
-Discussion, or Great Talk; but nine times in ten, it chanced, or
-rather mumchanced, that, between those who did not know what to think,
-and others, who did not know how to deliver what they thought, there
-ensued a dead silence, so “very dead indeed,” as Apollo Belvi says,
-that it seemed buried into the bargain. To make this awkward pause
-more awkward, some misgiving voice, between a whisper and a croak,
-would stammer out some allusion to a Quaker’s Meeting, answered from
-right to left by a running titter, the speaker having innocently, or
-perhaps wilfully forgotten, that one or two friends in drab coats, and
-as many in slate-coloured gowns, were sitting, thumb-twiddling, in the
-circle. Not that the Friends contented themselves with playing <i>dumby</i>
-at our discussions. They often spoke, and very characteristically,
-to the matter in hand. For instance, their favourite doctrine of
-non-resistance was once pushed&mdash;if Quakers ever push&mdash;a little “beyond
-beyond.” By way of clencher, one fair, meek, sleek Quakeress, in dove
-colour, gravely told a melodramatical story of a conscientious Friend,
-who rather than lift even his little finger against a Foe, passively,
-yea, lamblike, suffered himself to be butchered in bed by an assassin,
-and died consistently, as he thought, with Fox principles, very like a
-Goose. As regards my own share in the Essays and Arguments, it misgives
-me that they no more satisfied our decidedly serious members, than
-they now propitiate Mr. Rae Wilson. At least, one Society night, in
-escorting a female Fellow towards her home, she suddenly stopped me,
-taking advantage perhaps of the awful locality, and its associations,
-just in front of our chief criminal prison, and looking earnestly in my
-face, by the light of a Newgate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span> lamp, inquired somewhat abruptly, “Mr.
-Hood! are you not an Infidel<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a>?”</p>
-
-<p>In the mean time, whilst thus playing at Literature, an event was
-ripening which was to introduce me to Authorship in earnest, and make
-the Muse, with whom I had only flirted, my companion for life. It
-had often occurred to me that a striking, romantical, necromantical,
-metaphysical, melodramatical, Germanish story, might be composed, the
-interest of which should turn on the mysterious influence of the fate
-of A over the destiny of B, the said parties having no more natural
-or apparent connexion with each other than Tenterden Steeple and the
-Goodwin Sands. An instance of this occult contingency occurred in my
-own case; for I did not even know by sight the unfortunate gentleman
-on whose untimely exit depended my entrance on the literary stage.
-In the beginning of the year 1821, a memorable duel, originating in
-a pen-and-ink quarrel, took place at Chalk Farm, and terminated in
-the death of Mr. John Scott, the able Editor of the London Magazine.
-The melancholy result excited great interest, in which I fully
-participated, little dreaming that his catastrophe involved any
-consequences of importance to myself. But on the loss of its conductor,
-the Periodical passed into other hands. The new Proprietors were my
-friends; they sent for me, and after some preliminaries, I was duly
-installed as a sort of sub-Editor of the London Magazine.</p>
-
-<p>It would be affectation to say, that engraving was resigned with
-regret. There is always something mechanical about the art&mdash;moreover
-it is as unwholesome as wearisome to sit copper-fastened to a board,
-with a cantle scooped out to accommodate your stomach, if you have one,
-painfully ruling, ruling, and still ruling lines straight or crooked,
-by the long hundred to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span> square inch, at the doubly hazardous risk
-which Wordsworth so deprecates, of “growing double.” So farewell
-Woollett! Strange! Bartolozzi! I have said, my vanity did not rashly
-plunge me into authorship; but no sooner was there a legitimate opening
-than I jumped at it, à la Grimaldi, head foremost, and was speedily
-behind the scenes.</p>
-
-<p>To judge by my zeal and delight in my new pursuit, the bowl had at
-last found its natural bias<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a>. Not content with taking articles,
-like candidates for holy orders&mdash;with rejecting articles like the
-Belgians&mdash;I dreamt articles, thought articles, wrote articles, which
-were all inserted by the editor, of course, with the concurrence of his
-deputy. The more irksome parts of authorship, such as the correction
-of the press, were to me labours of love. I received a revise from Mr.
-Baldwin’s Mr. Parker, as if it had been a proof of his regard; forgave
-him all his slips, and really thought that printers’ devils were not
-so black as they are painted. But my top-gallant glory was in “our
-Contributors!” How I used to look forward to Elia! and backward for
-Hazlitt, and all round for Edward Herbert, and how I used to <i>look
-up</i> to Allan Cunningham! for at that time the London had a goodly
-list of writers&mdash;a rare company. It is now defunct, and perhaps no
-ex-periodical might so appropriately be apostrophized with the Irish
-funereal question&mdash;“Arrah, honey, why did you die?” Had you not an
-editor, and elegant prose writers, and beautiful poets, and broths
-of boys for criticism and classics, and wits and humorists.&mdash;Elia,
-Cary, Procter, Cunningham, Bowring, Barton, Hazlitt, Elton, Hartley
-Coleridge, Talfourd, Soane, Horace Smith, Reynolds, Poole, Clare, and
-Thomas Benyon, with a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span> power besides. Hadn’t you Lions’ Heads with
-Traditional Tales? Hadn’t you an Opium Eater, and a Dwarf, and a Giant,
-and a Learned Lamb, and a Green Man? Had not you a regular Drama, and
-a Musical Report, and a Report of Agriculture, and an Obituary, and
-a Price Current, and a current price, of only half-a-crown? Arrah,
-why did you die? Why, somehow the contributors fell away&mdash;the concern
-went into other hands&mdash;worst of all, a new editor tried to put the
-Belles Lettres in Utilitarian envelopes; whereupon, the circulation
-of the Miscellany, like that of poor Le Fevre, got slower, slower,
-slower,&mdash;and slower still&mdash;and then stopped for ever! It was a sorry
-scattering of those old Londoners! Some went out of the country: one
-(Clare) went into it. Lamb retreated to Colebrooke. Mr. Cary presented
-himself to the British Museum. Reynolds and Barry took to engrossing
-when they should pen a stanza, and Thomas Benyon gave up literature.</p>
-
-<p>It is with mingled feelings of pride, pleasure, and pain, that I revert
-to those old times, when the writers I had long known and admired
-in spirit were present to me in the flesh&mdash;when I had the delight
-of listening to their wit and wisdom from their own lips, of gazing
-on their faces, and grasping their right hands. Familiar figures
-rise before me, familiar voices ring in my ears, and alas! amongst
-them are shapes that I must never see, sounds that I can never hear,
-again. Before my departure from England, I was one of the few who
-saw the grave close over the remains of one whom to know as a friend
-was to love as a relation. Never did a better soul go to a better
-world! Never perhaps (giving the lie direct to the common imputation
-of envy, malice, and hatred, amongst the brotherhood), never did
-an author descend&mdash;to quote his favourite Sir T. Browne&mdash;into “the
-land of the mole and the pismire” so hung with golden opinions, and
-honoured and regretted with such sincere eulogies and elegies, by his
-contemporaries. To <span class="smaller">HIM</span>, the first of these,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span> my reminiscences,
-is eminently due, for I lost in him not only a dear and kind friend,
-but an invaluable critic; one whom, were such literary adoptions in
-modern use, I might well name, as Cotton called Walton, my “father.” To
-borrow the earnest language of old Jean Bertaut, as Englished by Mr.
-Cary&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Thou, chiefly, noble spirit, for whose loss</div>
-      <div class="verse">&ensp;Just grief and mourning all our hearts engross,</div>
-      <div class="verse">&ensp;Who seeing me devoted to the Nine,</div>
-      <div class="verse">&ensp;Didst hope some fruitage from those buds of mine;</div>
-      <div class="verse">&ensp;Thou didst excite me after thee t’ascend</div>
-      <div class="verse">&ensp;The Muses’ sacred hill; nor only lend</div>
-      <div class="verse">&ensp;Example, but inspirit me to reach</div>
-      <div class="verse">&ensp;The far-off summit by thy friendly speech.</div>
-      <div class="verse"><span class="mleft2">*</span><span class="mleft3">*</span><span class="mleft3">*</span><span class="mleft3">*</span><span class="mleft3">*</span></div>
-      <div class="verse">&ensp;May gracious Heaven, O honour of our age!</div>
-      <div class="verse">&ensp;Make the conclusion answer thy presage,</div>
-      <div class="verse">&ensp;Nor let it only for vain fortune stand,</div>
-      <div class="verse">&ensp;<i>That I have seen thy visage&mdash;touch’d thy hand</i>!”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p>I was sitting one morning beside our Editor, busily correcting
-proofs, when a visitor was announced, whose name, grumbled by a low
-ventriloquial voice, like Tom Pipes calling from the hold through the
-hatchway, did not resound distinctly on my tympanum. However, the door
-opened, and in came a stranger,&mdash;a figure remarkable at a glance, with
-a fine head, on a small spare body, supported by two almost immaterial
-legs. He was clothed in sables, of a bygone fashion, but there was
-something wanting, or something present about him, that certified he
-was neither a divine, nor a physician, nor a schoolmaster: from a
-certain neatness and sobriety in his dress, coupled with his sedate
-bearing, he might have been taken, but that such a costume would be
-anomalous, for a <i>Quaker</i> in black. He looked still more like (what
-he really was) a literary Modern Antique, a New-Old Author, a living
-Anachronism, contemporary at once with Burton the Elder, and Colman
-the Younger. Meanwhile he advanced with rather a peculiar gait, his
-walk was plantigrade, and with a cheerful “How d’ye,” and one of the
-blandest, sweetest smiles that ever brightened a manly countenance,
-held out two fingers to the Editor. The two gen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span>tlemen in black soon
-fell into discourse; and whilst they conferred, the Lavater principle
-within me, set to work upon the interesting specimen thus presented to
-its speculations. It was a striking intellectual face, full of wiry
-lines, physiognomical quips and cranks, that gave it great character.
-There was much earnestness about the brows, and a deal of speculation
-in the eyes, which were brown and bright, and “quick in turning;” the
-nose, a decided one, though of no established order; and there was
-a handsome smartness about the mouth. Altogether it was no common
-face&mdash;none of those <i>willow-pattern</i> ones, which Nature turns out by
-thousands at her potteries;&mdash;but more like a chance specimen of the
-Chinese ware, one to the set&mdash;unique, antique, quaint. No one who had
-once seen it, could pretend not to know it again. It was no face to
-lend its countenance to any confusion of persons in a Comedy of Errors.
-You might have sworn to it piecemeal,&mdash;a separate affidavit for every
-feature. In short his face was as original as his figure; his figure
-as his character; his character as his writings; his writings the most
-original of the age. After the literary business had been settled,
-the Editor invited his contributor to dinner, adding “we shall have a
-hare&mdash;”</p>
-
-<p class="s5 center">“And&mdash;and&mdash;and&mdash;and many Friends!”</p>
-
-<p>The hesitation in the speech, and the readiness of the illusion,
-were alike characteristic of the individual, whom his familiars will
-perchance have recognised already as the delightful Essayist, the
-capital Critic, the pleasant Wit and Humorist, the delicate-minded and
-large-hearted Charles Lamb! He was shy like myself with strangers,
-so that, despite my yearnings, our first meeting scarcely amounted
-to an introduction. We were both at dinner, amongst the hare’s many
-friends, but our acquaintance got no farther, in spite of a desperate
-attempt on my part to attract his notice. His complaint of the Decay
-of Beggars<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span> presented another chance: I wrote on coarse paper, and
-in ragged English, a letter of thanks to him as if from one of his
-mendicant clients, but it produced no effect. I had given up all hope,
-when one night, sitting sick and sad, in my bed-room, racked with the
-rheumatism, the door was suddenly opened, the well-known quaint figure
-in black walked in without any formality, and with a cheerful “Well,
-boy, how are you?” and the bland sweet smile, extended the two fingers.
-They were eagerly clutched of course, and from that hour we were firm
-friends.</p>
-
-<p>Thus characteristically commenced my intimacy with C. Lamb. He had
-recently become my neighbour, and in a few days called again, to
-ask me to tea, “to meet Wordsworth.” In spite of any idle jests to
-the contrary, the name had a spell in it that drew me to Colebrooke
-Cottage<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a>
-with more alacrity<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> than consisted with prudence, stiff
-joints and a North wind. But I was willing to run, at least hobble,
-some risk, to be of a party in a parlour with the Author of Laodamia
-and Hartleap Well. As for his Betty Foy-bles, he is not the first
-man by many, who has met with a <i>simple</i> fracture through riding his
-theory-hack so far and so fast, that it broke down with him. If he has
-now and then put on a nightcap, so have his own next-door mountains.
-If he has babbled, sometimes, like an infant of <i>two</i> years<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a></span> old, he
-has also thought, and felt, and spoken, the beautiful fancies and
-tender affections, and artless language, of the children who can say
-“We are <i>seven</i>.” Along with food for babes, he has furnished strong
-meat for men. So I put on my great coat and in a few minutes found
-myself, for the first time at a door, that opened to me as frankly as
-its master’s heart; for, without any preliminaries of hall, passage,
-or parlour, one single step across the threshold brought me into the
-sitting-room, and in sight of the domestic hearth. The room looked
-brown with “old bokes,” and beside the fire sate Wordsworth, and his
-sister, the hospitable Elia, and the excellent Bridget. As for the bard
-of Rydal, his outward man did not, perhaps, disappoint one; but the
-<i>palaver</i>, as the Indians say, fell short of my anticipations. Perhaps
-my memory is in fault; ’twas many years ago, and, unlike the biographer
-of Johnson, I have never made Bozziness my business. However, excepting
-a discussion on the value of the promissory notes issued by our younger
-poets, wherein Wordsworth named Shelley, and Lamb took John Keats for
-choice, there was nothing of literary interest brought upon the carpet.
-But a book man cannot always be bookish. A poet, even a Rydal one,
-must be glad at times to descend from Saddleback, and feel his legs.
-He cannot, like the Girl in the Fairy Tale, be always talking diamonds
-and pearls. It is a “Vulgar Errour” to suppose that an author must
-be always authoring, even with his feet on the fender. Nevertheless,
-it is not an uncommon impression, that a writer sonnetises his wife,
-sings odes to his children, talks essays and epigrams to his friends,
-and reviews his servants. It was in something of this spirit that an
-official gentleman to whom I mentioned the pleasant literary meetings
-at Lamb’s, associated them instantly with his parochial mutual
-instruction evening schools, and remarked,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a></span> “Yes, yes, all very proper
-and praiseworthy&mdash;of course, you go there <i>to improve your minds</i>.”</p>
-
-<p>And very pleasant and improving, though not of set purpose, to both
-mind and heart, were those extempore assemblies at Colebrooke Cottage.
-It was wholesome for the soul but to breathe its atmosphere. It was
-a House of Call for All Denominations. <i>Sides</i> were lost in that
-<i>circle</i>, Men of all parties postponed their partisanship, and met
-as on a neutral ground. There were but two persons, whom L. avowedly
-did not wish to encounter beneath his roof, and those two, merely on
-account of private and family differences. For the rest, they left all
-their hostilities at the door, with their sticks. This forbearance was
-due to the truly tolerant spirit of the Host, which influenced all
-within its sphere. Lamb, whilst he willingly lent a crutch to halting
-Humility, took delight in tripping up the stilts of Pretension. Anybody
-might trot out his Hobby; but he allowed nobody to ride the High Horse.
-If it was a High German, one like those ridden by the Devil and Doctor
-Faustus, he would chaunt</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Gëuty Gëuty</div>
-      <div class="verse">&ensp;Is a great Beauty,”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="p0">till the rider moderated his gallop. He hated anything like
-Cock-of-the-Walk-ism; and set his face and his wit against all
-Ultraism, Transcendentalism, Sentimentalism, Conventional Mannerism,
-and above all, Separatism. In opposition to the Exclusives, he was
-emphatically an Inclusive.</p>
-
-<p>As he once owned to me, he was fond of antagonising. Indeed in the
-sketch of himself, prefacing the Last Essays of Elia&mdash;a sketch for its
-truth to have delighted Mason the Self-Knowledge man&mdash;he says, “with
-the Religionist I pass for a Free-thinker, while the other faction set
-me down for a Bigot.” In fact, no politician ever laboured more to
-preserve the Balance of Power in Europe, than he did to correct any
-temporary preponderances. He was always <i>trimming</i> in the nautical,
-not in the political, sense. Thus in his “magnanimous letter,” as
-Hazlitt called it, to High Church Southey, he professed himself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</a></span> a
-Unitarian<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a>. With a Catholic he would probably have called himself
-a Jew; as amongst Quakers, by way of a set-off against their own
-formality, he would indulge in a little extra levity. I well remember
-his chuckling at having spirited on his correspondent Bernard Barton,
-to commit some little enormities, such as addressing him as C. Lamb,
-<i>Esquire</i>.</p>
-
-<p>My visits at Lamb’s were shortly interrupted by a sojourn to
-unrheumatize myself at Hastings; but in default of other intercourse
-I received a letter in a well-known hand, quaint as the sentences it
-conveyed.</p>
-
-<div class="correspondence">
-
-<p>“And what dost thou at the Priory? Cucullus non facit Monachum.
-English me that, and challenge old Lignum Janua to make a better.</p>
-
-<p>“My old New River has presented no extraordinary novelties lately.
-But there hope sits day after day speculating upon traditionary
-gudgeons. I think she has taken the fisheries. I now know the
-reason why our forefathers were denominated East and West Angles.
-Yet is there no lack of spawn, for I wash my hands in fishets that
-come through the pump every morning, thick as motelings&mdash;little
-things that perish untimely, and never taste the brook. You do
-not tell me of those romantic Land Bays that be as thou goest to
-Lovers’ Seat, neither of that little Churchling in the midst of a
-wood (in the opposite direction nine furlongs from the town), that
-seems dropt by the Angel that was tired of carrying two packages;
-marry, with the other he made shift to pick his flight to Loretto.
-Inquire out and see my little Protestant Loretto. It stands apart
-from trace of human habitation, yet hath it pulpit, reading-desk,
-and trim front of massiest marble, as if Robinson Crusoe had
-reared<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a></span> it to soothe himself with old church-going images. I forget
-its Xtian name, and what She Saint was its gossip.</p>
-
-<p>“You should also go to No. 13, Standgate Street, a Baker, who has
-the finest collection of marine monsters in ten sea counties;
-sea-dragons, polypi, mer-people, most fantastic. You have only to
-name the old Gentleman in black (not the Devil), that lodged with
-him a week (he’ll remember) last July, and he will show courtesy.
-He is by far the foremost of the Savans. His wife is the funniest
-thwarting little animal! They are decidedly the Lions of green
-Hastings. Well, I have made an end of my say;&mdash;my epistolary time
-is gone by when I could have scribbled as long (I will not say as
-agreeable) as thine was to both of us. I am dwindled to notes and
-letterets. But in good earnest I shall be most happy to hail thy
-return to the waters of old Sir Hugh. There is nothing like inland
-murmurs, fresh ripples, and our native minnows.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“He sang in meads how sweet the brooklets ran,</div>
-      <div class="verse">&ensp;To the rough ocean and red restless sands.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="p0">I design to give up smoking; but I have not yet fixed upon the
-equivalent vice. I must have quid pro quo, or quo pro <i>quid</i>, as
-Tom Woodgate would correct me. My service to him.</p>
-
-<p class="right mright1">“C. L.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p>The letter came to hand too late for me to hunt the “Lions;” but on
-a subsequent visit to the same Cinque Port with my wife, though we
-verified the little Loretto, we could not find the Baker, or even his
-man, howbeit we tried at every shop that had the least sign of bakery
-or cakery in its window. The whole was a batch of <i>fancy</i> bread; one of
-those fictions which the writer was apt to pass off upon his friends.</p>
-
-<p>The evening meetings at Colebrooke Cottage&mdash;where somebody, who <i>was</i>
-somebody, or a literary friend, was sure to drop in&mdash;were the more
-grateful to me, as the London Magazine was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a></span> now in a rapid decline;
-some of its crack contributors had left it off, and the gatherings of
-the clan to eat, drink, and be merry, were few and far between. There
-was indeed one Venison Feast whereat, I have heard, the scent lay more
-than breast high, and the sport was of as rich a quality; but it was my
-chance to be absent from the pack. At former dinners, however, I had
-been a guest, and a sketch of one of them may serve to introduce some
-of the principal characters of our “London in the Olden Time.”</p>
-
-<p>On the right hand then of the Editor sits Elia, of the pleasant smile,
-and the quick eyes&mdash;Procter said of them that “they looked as if they
-could pick up pins and needles”&mdash;and a wit as quick as his eyes, and
-sure, as Hazlitt described, to stammer out the best pun and the best
-remark in the course of the evening. Next to him, shining verdantly out
-from the grave-coloured suits of the literati, like a patch of turnips
-amidst stubble and fallow, behold our Jack i’ the Green&mdash;John Clare!
-In his bright, grass-coloured coat, and yellow waistcoat (there are
-greenish stalks too, under the table), he looks a very Cowslip, and
-blooms amongst us as Goldsmith must have done in his peach-blossom.
-No wonder the door-keeper of the Soho Bazaar, seeing that <i>very
-countrified</i> suit, linked arm-in-arm with the Editorial sables, made a
-boggle at admitting them into his repository, having seen, perchance,
-such a made-up Peasant “playing at playing” at thimble-rig about the
-Square. No wonder the gentleman’s gentleman, in the drab-coat and
-sealing-wax smalls, at W&mdash;&mdash; ’s, was for cutting off our Green Man,
-who was modestly the last in ascending the stairs as an interloper,
-though he made amends afterwards by waiting almost exclusively on the
-Peasant, perfectly convinced that he was some eccentric Notable of the
-Corinthian order, disguised in Rustic. Little wonder either, that in
-wending homewards on the same occasion through the Strand, the Peasant
-and Elia, <i>Sylvanus et Urban</i>, linked comfortably together; there arose
-the frequent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a></span> cry of “Look at Tom and Jerry&mdash;there goes Tom and Jerry!”
-for truly, Clare in his square-cut green coat, and Lamb in his black,
-were not a little suggestive of Hawthorn and Logic, in the plates to
-“Life in London.”</p>
-
-<p>But to return to the table. Elia&mdash;much more of House Lamb than of
-Grass Lamb&mdash;avowedly caring little or nothing for Pastoral; cottons,
-nevertheless, very kindly to the Northamptonshire Poet, and still
-more to his ale, pledging him again and again as “Clarissimus,”
-and “Princely Clare,” and sometimes so lustily, as to make the
-latter cast an anxious glance into his tankard. By his bright happy
-look, the Helpstone Visitor is inwardly contrasting the unlettered
-country company of Clod, and Hodge and Podge, with the delights of
-“London” society Elia, and Barry, and Herbert, and Mr. Table Talk,
-<i>cum multis</i>&mdash;<i>aliis</i>&mdash;i.e. a multiplicity of all. But besides the
-tankard, the two “drouthie neebors” discuss Poetry in general<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a>, and
-Montgomery’s “Common Lot” in particular, Lamb insisting on the beauty
-of the tangental sharp turn at “O! she was fair!” thinking, mayhap, of
-his own Alice W&mdash;&mdash;, and Clare swearing “Dal” (a clarified d&mdash;n) “Dal!
-if it isn’t like a Dead Man preaching out of his coffin!” Anon, the
-Humorist begins to banter the Peasant on certain “Clare-obscurities” in
-his own verses, originating in a contempt for the rules of Priscian,
-whereupon the accused, thinking with Burns,</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“What ser’es their grammars?</div>
-      <div class="verse">&ensp;They’d better ta’en up spades and shools,</div>
-      <div class="verse">&ensp;Or knappin hammers,”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="p0">vehemently denounces all Philology as nothing but a sort of man-trap
-for authors, and heartily dals Lindley Murray for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</a></span> “inventing it!”</p>
-
-<p>It must have been at such a time, that Hilton <i>conceived</i> his clever
-portrait of C&mdash;&mdash;, when he was “C in alt.” He was hardy, rough, and
-clumsy enough to look truly rustic&mdash;like an Ingram’s rustic chair.
-There was a slightness about his frame, with a delicacy of features
-and complexion, that associated him more with the Garden than with the
-Field, and made him look the Peasant of a Ferme Ornée. In this respect
-he was as much beneath the genuine stalwart bronzed Plough-Poet,
-Burns, as above the Farmer’s Boy, whom I remember to have seen in my
-childhood, when he lived in a miniature house, near the Shepherd and
-Shepherdess, now the Eagle tavern, in the City Road, and manufactured
-Æolian harps, and kept ducks. The Suffolk Giles had very little of
-the agricultural in his appearance; he looked infinitely more like a
-handicraftsman, <i>town-made</i>.</p>
-
-<p>Poor Clare!&mdash;It would greatly please me to hear that he was happy and
-well, and thriving; but the transplanting of Peasants and Farmers’ Boys
-from the natural into an artificial soil, does not always conduce to
-their happiness, or health, or ultimate well doing. I trust the true
-Friends, who, with a natural hankering after poetry, because it is
-forbidden them, have ventured to pluck and eat of the pastoral sorts,
-as most dallying with the innocence of nature,&mdash;and who on that account
-patronised Capel Lofft’s protégé&mdash;I do trust and hope they took off
-whole editions of the Northamptonshire Bard. There was much about Clare
-for a Quaker to like; he was tender-hearted, and averse to violence.
-How he recoiled once, bodily-taking his chair along with him,&mdash;from a
-young surgeon, or surgeon’s friend, who let drop, somewhat abruptly,
-that he was just come “from seeing a child skinned!”&mdash;Clare, from his
-look of horror, evidently thought that the poor infant, like Marsyas,
-had been flayed <i>alive</i>! He was both gentle and simple. I have heard
-that on his first visit to London, his publishers considerately sent
-their porter to meet him at the inn; but when Thomas<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</a></span> necessarily
-inquired of the gentleman in green, “Are you Mr. Clare?” the latter,
-willing to foil the traditionary tricks of London sharpers, replied to
-the suspicious query with “a positive negative.”<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a></p>
-
-<p>The Brobdignagian next to Clare, overtopping him by the whole head and
-shoulders&mdash;a physical “Colossus of Literature,” the grenadier of our
-corps&mdash;is Allan, not Allan Ramsay, “no, nor Barbara Allan neither,”
-but Allan Cunningham,&mdash;“a credit,” quoth Sir Walter Scott (he might
-have said a long credit) “to Caledonia.” He is often called “honest
-Allan,” to distinguish him, perhaps, from one Allan-a-Dale, who was
-apt to mistake his neighbours’ goods for his own&mdash;sometimes, between
-ourselves, yelept the “C. of Solway,” in allusion to that favourite
-“Allan Water,” the Solway Sea. There is something of the true moody
-poetical weather observable in the barometer of his face, alternating
-from Variable to Showery, from Stormy to Set Fair. At times he looks
-gloomy and earnest and traditional&mdash;a little like a Covenanter&mdash;but he
-suddenly clears up and laughs a hearty laugh that lifts him an inch or
-two from his chair, for he rises at a joke when he sees one, like a
-trout at a fly, and finishes with a smart rubbing of his ample palms.
-He has store, too, of broad Scotch stories, and shrewd sayings; and
-he writes&mdash;no, he wrote rare old-new or new-old ballads. Why not now?
-Has his Pegasus, as he once related of his pony, run from under him?
-Has the Mermaid of Galloway left no little ones? Is Bonnie Lady Ann
-married, or May Morison dead? Thou vast formed for a poet, Allan, by
-nature, and by stature too, according to Pope&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“To snatch a grace <i>beyond the reach</i> of Art.”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="p0">And are there not Longman, or Tallboys, for thy Publishers? But alas!
-we are fallen on evil days for Bards and Barding, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</a></span> nine tailors
-do more for a man than the Nine Muses. The only Lay likely to answer
-now-a-days would be an Ode (with the proper testimonials) to the
-Literary Fund!</p>
-
-<p>The Reverend personage on the Editor’s right, with the studious brow,
-deep-set eyes, and bald crown, is the mild and modest Cary&mdash;the same
-who turned Dante into Miltonic English blank verse. He is sending
-his plate towards the partridges, which he will relish and digest as
-though they were the Birds of Aristophanes. He has his eye, too, on
-the French made-dishes<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a>. Pity, shame and pity, such a Translator
-found no better translation in the Church! Is it possible that, in some
-no-popery panic, it was thought by merely being Dragoman to Purgatory
-he had <i>Romed</i> from the true faith?</p>
-
-<p>A very pleasant day we “Londoners” once spent at a Chiswick parsonage,
-formerly tenanted by Hogarth, along with the hospitable Cary, and, as
-Elia called them, his Caryatides!<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> The last time my eyes rested on
-the Interpreter (of the House Beautiful as well as of the Inferno), he
-was on the Library steps of the British Museum. Ere this, I trust he
-hath reached the tiptop&mdash;nay, hath perhaps attained, being a Literary
-Worthy, even unto a Trusteeship, and had to buy, at Ellis’s, a few
-yards of the Blue Ribbon of Literature!</p>
-
-<p>Procter,&mdash;alias Barry Cornwall, formerly of the Marcian Colonnade, now
-of some prosaical Inn of Court&mdash;the kindly Procter, one of the foremost
-to welcome me into the Brotherhood, with a too-flattering Dedication
-(another instance against the jealousy of authors), is my own left-hand
-file. But what he says shall be kept as strictly confidential; for he
-is whispering it into my Martineau ear. On my other side, when I turn
-that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</a></span> way, I see a profile, a shadow of which ever confronts me on
-opening my writing-desk,&mdash;a sketch taken from memory, the day after
-seeing the original<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a>. In opposition to the “extra man’s size” of
-Cunningham, the party in question looks almost boyish, partly from
-being in bulk somewhat beneath Monsieur Quetelet’s “Average Man,” but
-still more so from a peculiar delicacy of complexion and smallness of
-features, which look all the smaller from his wearing, in compliment,
-probably, to the <i>Samsons</i> of Teutonic Literature, his locks unshorn.
-Nevertheless whoever looks again,</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Sees more than marks the crowd of common men.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="p0">There is speculation in the eyes, a curl of the lip, and a general
-character in the outline, that reminds one of some portraits of
-Voltaire. And a Philosopher he is every inch. He looks, thinks,
-writes, talks and walks, eats and drinks, and no doubt sleeps
-philosophically&mdash;<i>i.e.</i> deliberately. There is nothing abrupt
-about his motions,&mdash;he goes and comes calmly and quietly&mdash;like the
-phantom in Hamlet, he is here&mdash;he is there&mdash;he is gone! So it is
-with his discourse. He speaks slowly, clearly, and with very marked
-emphasis&mdash;the tide of talk flows like Denham’s river, “strong without
-rage, without overflowing, full.” When it was my frequent and agreeable
-duty to call on Mr. De Quincey (being an uncommon name to remember,
-the servant associated it, on the Memoria Technica principle, with a
-sore throat and always pronounced it Quinsy), and I have found him at
-home, quite at home, in the midst of a German Ocean of <i>Literature</i>, in
-a storm,&mdash;flooding all the floor, the table and the chairs,&mdash;billows
-of books tossing, tumbling, surging open,&mdash;on such occasions I have
-willingly listened by the hour whilst the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</a></span> Philosopher, standing, with
-his eyes fixed on one side of the room, seemed to be less speaking
-than reading from a “handwriting on the wall.” Now and then he would
-diverge, for a Scotch mile or two, to the right or left, till I was
-tempted to inquire with Peregrine in John Bull (Colman’s not Hook’s),
-“Do you never deviate?”&mdash;but he always came safely back to the point
-where he had left, not lost the scent, and thence hunted his topic to
-the end. But look!&mdash;we are in the small hours, and a change comes o’er
-the spirit of that “old familiar face.” A faint hectic tint leaves
-the cheek, the eyes are a degree dimmer, and each is surrounded by
-a growing shadow&mdash;signs of the waning influence of that Potent Drug
-whose stupendous Pleasures and enormous Pains have been so eloquently
-described by the English Opium Eater. Marry, I have one of his
-Confessions with his own name and mark to it:&mdash;an apology for a certain
-stain on his MS., the said stain being a large purplish ring,&mdash;“Within
-that circle none durst drink but he,”&mdash;in fact the impression,
-coloured, of “a tumbler of laudanum negus, warm, without sugar.”<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a></p>
-
-<p>That smart active person opposite with a game-cock-looking head, and
-the hair combed smooth, fighter fashion, over his forehead&mdash;with
-one finger hooked round a glass of champagne, not that he requires
-it to inspirit him, for his wit bubbles up of itself&mdash;is our Edward
-Herbert, the Author of that true piece of Biography, the Life of Peter
-Corcoran. He is “good with both hands,” like that Nonpareil Randall,
-at a comic verse or a serious stanza&mdash;smart at a repartee&mdash;sharp at a
-retort, and not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[Pg 381]</a></span> averse to a bit of mischief. ’Twas he who gave the
-runaway ring at Wordsworth’s Peter Bell. Generally, his jests, set
-off by a happy manner, are only ticklesome, but now and then they are
-sharp-flavoured,&mdash;like the sharpness of the pine-apple. Would I could
-give a sample. Alas! What a pity it is that so many good things uttered
-by Poets, and Wits, and Humorists, at chance times&mdash;and they are always
-the best and brightest, like sparks struck out by Pegasus’ own hoof,
-in a curvet amongst the flints&mdash;should be daily and hourly lost to the
-world for want of a recorder! But in this Century of Inventions, when
-a self-acting drawing-paper has been discovered for copying visible
-objects, who knows but that a future Niepce, or Daguerre, or Herschel,
-or Fox Talbot, may find out some sort of Boswellish writing-paper to
-repeat whatever it hears!</p>
-
-<p>There are other Contributors&mdash;poor Hazlitt for instance&mdash;whose shades
-rise up before me: but I never met with them at the Entertainments just
-described. Shall we ever meet anywhere again? Alas! some are dead; and
-the rest dispersed; and the days of <i>Social</i> Clubs are over and gone,
-when the Professors and Patrons of Literature assembled round the same
-steaming bowl, and Johnson, always best out of print, exclaimed, “Lads!
-who’s for Poonch!”</p>
-
-<p class="center mtop1 mbot1">*<span class="mleft3">*</span><span class="mleft3">*</span><span class="mleft3">*</span><span class="mleft3">*</span><span class="mleft3">*</span></p>
-
-<p>Amongst other notable men who came to Colebrooke Cottage, I had twice
-the good fortune of meeting with S. T. Coleridge. The first time
-he came from Highgate with Mrs. Gilman, to dine with “Charles and
-Mary.” What a contrast to Lamb was the full-bodied Poet, with his
-waving white hair, and his face round, ruddy, and unfurrowed as a
-holy Friar’s! Apropos to which face he gave us a humorous description
-of an unfinished portrait, that served him for a sort of barometer,
-to indicate the state of his popularity. So sure as his name made
-any temporary<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[Pg 382]</a></span> stir, out came the canvas on the easel, and a request
-from the artist for another sitting: down sank the Original in the
-public notice, and back went the copy into a corner, till some fresh
-publication or accident again brought forward the Poet; and then forth
-came the picture for a few more touches. I sincerely hope it has been
-finished! What a benign, smiling face it was! What a comfortable,
-respectable figure! What a model, methought, as I watched and admired
-the “Old Man eloquent,” for a Christian bishop! But he was, perhaps,
-scarcely orthodox enough to be trusted with a mitre. At least, some of
-his voluntaries would have frightened a common everyday congregation
-from their propriety. Amongst other matters of discourse, he came to
-speak of the strange notions some literal-minded persons form of the
-joys of Heaven; joys they associated with mere temporal things, in
-which, for his own part, finding no delight in this world, he could
-find no bliss hereafter, without a change in his nature, tantamount to
-the loss of his personal identity. For instance, he said, there are
-persons who place the whole angelical beatitude in the possession of a
-pair of wings to flap about with, like “<i>a sort of celestial poultry</i>.”
-After dinner he got up, and began pacing to and fro, with his hands
-behind his back, talking and walking, as Lamb laughingly hinted, as
-if qualifying for an itinerant preacher; now fetching a simile from
-Loddiges’ garden, at Hackney; and then flying off for an illustration
-to the sugar-making in Jamaica. With his fine, flowing voice, it was
-glorious music, of the “never-ending, still-beginning” kind; and you
-did not wish it to end. It was rare flying, as in the Nassau Balloon;
-you knew not whither, nor did you care. Like his own bright-eyed
-Marinere, he had a spell in his voice that would not let you go. To
-attempt to describe my own feeling afterward, I had been carried,
-spiralling, up to heaven by a whirlwind intertwisted with sunbeams,
-giddy and dazzled, but not displeased,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[Pg 383]</a></span> and had then been rained down
-again with a shower of mundane stocks and stones that battered out of
-me all recollection of what I had heard, and what I had seen!</p>
-
-<p>On the second occasion, the author of Christabel was accompanied by one
-of his sons. The Poet, talking and walking as usual, chanced to pursue
-some argument, which drew from the son, who had not been introduced
-to me, the remark, “Ah, that’s just like your crying up those foolish
-Odes and Addresses!” Coleridge was highly amused with this mal-àpropos,
-and, without explaining, looked slily round at me, with the sort of
-suppressed laugh one may suppose to belong to the Bey of <i>Tittery</i>. The
-truth was, he felt naturally partial to a book he had attributed in the
-first instance to the dearest of his friends.</p>
-
-<div class="correspondence">
-
-<p>“M<span class="smaller">Y DEAR</span> C<span class="smaller">HARLES</span>,&mdash;This afternoon, a little, thin,
-mean-looking sort of a foolscap, sub-octavo of poems, printed on
-very dingy outsides, lay on the table, which the cover informed me
-was circulating in our book-club, so very Grub Streetish in all its
-appearance, internal as well as external, that I cannot explain
-by what accident of impulse (assuredly there was no <i>motive</i> in
-play) I came to look into it. Least of all, the title, Odes and
-Addresses to Great Men, which connected itself in my head with
-Rejected Addresses, and all the Smith and Theodore Hook squad. But,
-my dear Charles, it was certainly written by you, or under you,
-or <i>una cum</i> you. I know none of your frequent visitors capacious
-and assimilative enough of your converse to have reproduced you
-so honestly, supposing you had left yourself in pledge in his
-lock-up house. Gillman, to whom I read the spirited parody on the
-introduction to Peter Bell, the Ode to the Great Unknown, and to
-Mrs. Fry; he speaks doubtfully of Reynolds and Hood. But here come
-Irving and Basil Montagu.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[Pg 384]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“<i>Thursday night, 10 o’clock.</i>&mdash;No! Charles, it is <i>you</i>. I have
-read them over again, and I understand why you have <i>anon’d</i>
-the book. The puns are nine in ten good&mdash;many excellent&mdash;the
-<i>Newgatory</i> transcendent. And then the <i>exemplum sine exemplo</i> of
-a volume of personalities and contemporaneities, without a single
-line that could inflict the infinitesimal of an unpleasance on any
-man in his senses; saving and except perhaps in the envy-addled
-brain of the despiser of your <i>Lays</i>. If not a triumph over him,
-it is at least an <i>ovation</i>. Then, moreover, and besides, to speak
-with becoming modesty, excepting my own self, who is there but you
-who could write the musical lines and stanzas that are intermixed?</p>
-
-<p>“Here Gillman, come up to my garret, and driven back by the
-guardian spirits of four huge flower-holders of omnigenous roses
-and honeysuckles&mdash;(Lord have mercy on his hysterical olfactories!
-what will he do in Paradise? I must have a pair or two of
-nostril-plugs, or nose-goggles laid in his coffin)&mdash;stands at the
-door, reading that to M’Adam, and the washerwoman’s letter, and he
-admits <i>the facts</i>. You are found <i>in the manner</i>, as the lawyers
-say! so, Mr. Charles! hang yourself up, and send me a line, by way
-of token and acknowledgment. My dear love to Mary. God bless you
-and your Unshamabramizer,</p>
-
-<p class="right mright1">“S. T. C<span class="smaller">OLERIDGE</span>.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p>It may be mentioned here, that instead of feeling “the infinitesimal of
-an unpleasance” at being Addressed in the Odes, the once celebrated Mr.
-Hunt presented to the Authors a bottle of his best “Permanent Ink,” and
-the eccentric Doctor Kitchiner sent an invitation to dinner.</p>
-
-<p>From Colebrooke, Lamb removed to Enfield Chase,&mdash;a painful operation
-at all times, for as he feelingly misapplied Wordsworth, “the <i>moving</i>
-accident was not his trade.” As soon as he was settled, I called upon
-him, and found him in a bald-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[Pg 385]</a></span>looking yellowish house, with a bit of a
-garden, and a wasp’s nest convanient, as the Irish say, for one stung
-my pony as he stood at the door. Lamb laughed at the fun; but, as the
-clown says, the whirligig of time brought round its revenges. He was
-one day bantering my wife on her dread of wasps, when all at once he
-uttered a horrible shout,&mdash;a wounded specimen of the species had slily
-crawled up the leg of the table, and stung him in the thumb. I told
-him it was a refutation well put in, like Smollett’s timely snowball.
-“Yes,” said he, “and a stinging commentary on Macbeth&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“<i>By the pricking of my thumbs,</i></div>
-      <div class="verse">&ensp;<i>Something wicked this way comes.</i>”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p>There were no pastoral yearnings concerned in this Enfield removal.
-There is no doubt which of Captain Morris’s Town and Country Songs
-would have been most to Lamb’s taste. “The sweet shady side of
-Pall-Mall,” would have carried it hollow. In courtesy to a friend, he
-would select a green lane for a ramble, but left to himself, he took
-the turnpike road as often as otherwise. “Scott,” says Cunningham, “was
-a stout walker.” Lamb was a <i>porter</i> one. He calculated Distances,
-not by Long Measure, but by Ale and Beer Measure. “Now I have walked
-a pint.” Many a time I have accompanied him in these matches against
-Meux, not without sharing in the stake, and then, what cheerful and
-profitable talk! For instance, he once delivered to me orally the
-substance of the Essay on the Defect of Imagination in Modern Artists,
-subsequently printed in the Athenæum. But besides the criticism, there
-were snatches of old poems, golden lines and sentences culled from rare
-books, and anecdotes of men of note. Marry, it was like going a ramble
-with gentle Izaak Walton, minus the fishing.</p>
-
-<p>To make these excursions more delightful to one of my temperament,
-Lamb never affected any spurious gravity. Neither did he ever act the
-Grand <i>Senior</i>. He did not exact that com<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[Pg 386]</a></span>mon copy-book respect, which
-some asinine persons would fair command on account of the mere length
-of their years. As if, forsooth, what is bad in itself, could be the
-better for keeping; as if intellects already <i>mothery</i>, got anything
-but <i>grandmothery</i> by lapse of time! In this particular, he was opposed
-to Southey, or rather (for Southey has been opposed to himself) to his
-Poem on the Holly Tree.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“So serious should my youth appear among</div>
-      <div class="verse">&ensp;The thoughtless throng;</div>
-      <div class="verse">&ensp;So would I seem among the young and gay</div>
-      <div class="verse">&ensp;<i>More grave than they</i>.”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p>There was nothing of Sir Oracle about Lamb. On the contrary, at sight
-of a solemn visage that “creamed and mantled like the standing pool,”
-he was the first to pitch a mischievous stone to disturb the duck-weed.
-“He was a boy-man,” as he truly said of Elia; “and his manners lagged
-behind his years.” He liked to herd with people younger than himself.
-Perhaps, in his fine generalizing way, he thought that, in relation
-to Eternity, we are all contemporaries. However, without reckoning
-birthdays, it was always “Hail fellow, well met;” and although he
-was my elder by a quarter of a century, he never made me feel, in
-our excursions, that I was “taking a walk with the schoolmaster.”
-I remember, in one of our strolls, being called to account, very
-pompously, by the proprietor of an Enfield Villa, who asserted that my
-dog Dash, who never hunted anything in his dog-days, had chased the
-sheep; whereupon, Elia taking the dog’s part, said very emphatically,
-“Hunt <i>Lambs</i>, Sir? Why he has never hunted <i>me</i>!” But he was always
-ready for fun, intellectual or practical&mdash;now helping to pelt D*****,
-a modern Dennis, with puns; and then to persuade his sister, God bless
-her! by a vox et preterea nihil, that she was as deaf as an adder.
-In the same spirit, being requested by a young Schoolmaster to take
-charge of his flock for a day, “during the unavoidable absence of the
-Principal,” he willingly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[Pg 387]</a></span> undertook the charge, but made no other use
-of his brief authority than to give the boys a whole holiday.</p>
-
-<p>As Elia supplied the place of the Pedagogue, so once I was substitute
-for Lamb himself. A prose article in the Gem, was not from his hand,
-though it bore his name. He had promised a contribution, but being
-unwell, his sister suggested that I should write something for him, and
-the result was the “Widow” in imitation of his manner. It will be seen
-that the forgery was taken in good part.</p>
-
-<div class="correspondence">
-
-<p>“D<span class="smaller">EAR</span> L<span class="smaller">AMB</span>,&mdash;You are an impudent varlet, but I will keep
-your secret. We dine at Ayrton’s on Thursday, and shall try to
-find Sarah and her two spare beds for that night only. Miss M. and
-her tragedy may be d&mdash;&mdash; d, so may <i>not</i> you and your rib. Health
-attend you.</p>
-
-<p class="right mright1"><span class="mright4">Yours,</span><br />
-T. H<span class="smaller">OOD</span>, Esq.<br />
-
-<span class="mright2">“<i>Enfield.</i></span></p>
-
-<p>“Miss Bridget Hood sends love.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p>How many of such pleasant reminiscences revive in my memory, whilst
-thinking of him, like secret writing brought out by the kindly warmth
-of the fire! But they must be deferred to leave me time and space
-for other attributes&mdash;for example, his charity, in its widest sense,
-the moderation in judgment which, as Miller says, is “the Silken
-String running through the Pearl Chain of all Virtues.” If he was
-intolerant of anything, it was of Intolerance. He would have been (if
-the foundation had existed, save in the fiction of Rabelais,) of the
-Utopian order of Thelemites, where each man under scriptural warrant
-did what seemed good in his own eyes. He hated evil speaking, carping,
-and petty scandal. On one occasion having slipped out an anecdote,
-to the discredit of a literary man, during a very confidential
-conversation, the next moment, with an expression of remorse, for
-having impaired even my opinion of the party, he bound me solemnly to
-bury the story in my own bosom. In<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[Pg 388]</a></span> another case he characteristically
-rebuked the backbiting spirit of a censorious neighbour. Some Mrs.
-Candour telling him, in expectation of an ill-natured comment, that
-Miss ***, the teacher at the Ladies’ School, had married a publican,
-“Has she so?” said Lamb, “then I’ll have my beer there!”</p>
-
-<p>As to his liberality in a pecuniary sense, he passed (says Lamb of
-Elia) with some people, through having a settled but moderate income,
-for a great miser. And in truth he knew the value of money, its power,
-its usefulness. One January night he told me with great glee that
-at the end of the late year he had been able to lay by&mdash;and thence
-proceeded to read me a serio-comic lecture on the text, of “Keep
-your hand out of your Pocket.” The truth is, Lamb, like Shakspeare
-in the universality of his sympathies, could feel, pro tempore, what
-belonged to the character of a Gripe-all. The reader will remember his
-capital Note in the “Dramatic Specimens,” on “the decline of Misers,
-in consequence of the <i>Platonic</i> nature of an affection for Money,”
-since Money was represented by “<i>flimsies</i>,” instead of substantial
-coin, the good old solid sonorous dollars and doubloons, and pieces
-of eight, that might be handled, and hugged, and rattled, and perhaps
-kissed. But to this passion for hoarding he one day attributed a new
-origin. “A Miser,” he said, “is sometimes a grand personification of
-Fear. He has a fine horror of Poverty. And he is not content to keep
-Want from the door, or at arm’s length,&mdash;but he places it, by heaping
-wealth upon wealth, <i>at a sublime distance</i>!” Such was his theory: now
-for his practice. Amongst his other guests, you occasionally saw an
-elderly lady, formal, fair, and flaxen-wigged, looking remarkably like
-an animated wax doll,&mdash;and she did visit some friends or relations,
-at a toyshop near St. Dunstan’s. When she spoke, it was as if by an
-artificial apparatus, through some defect in her palate, and she had a
-slight limp and a twist in her figure, occasioned&mdash;what would Hannah
-More have said!&mdash;by running<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[Pg 389]</a></span> down Greenwich Hill! This antiquated
-personage had been Lamb’s Schoolmistress&mdash;and on this retrospective
-consideration, though she could hardly have taught him more than to
-read his native tongue&mdash;he allowed her in her decline, a yearly sum,
-equal to&mdash;what shall I say?&mdash;to the stipend which some persons of
-fortune deem sufficient for the active services of an all-accomplished
-gentlewoman in the education of their children. Say, thirty pounds per
-annum.</p>
-
-<p>Such was Charles Lamb. To sum up his character, on his own principle
-of antagonism, he was, in his views of human nature, the opposite of
-Crabbe; in Criticism, of Gifford; in Poetry, of Lord Byron; in Prose,
-of the last new Novelist; in Philosophy, of Kant; and in Religion, of
-Sir Andrew Agnew. Of his wit I have endeavoured to give such samples as
-occurred to me; but the spirit of his sayings was too subtle and too
-much married to the circumstances of the time to survive the occasion.
-They had the brevity without the levity of wit&mdash;some of his puns
-contained the germs of whole essays. Moreover, like Falstaff, he seemed
-not only witty himself but the occasion of it by example in others.
-“There is M******” said he, “who goes about dropping his good things
-as an Ostrich lays her eggs, without caring what becomes of them.” It
-was once my good fortune to pick up one of Mr. M.’s foundlings, and it
-struck me as particularly in Lamb’s own style, containing at once a
-pun and a criticism. “What do you think,” asked somebody, “of the book
-called ‘A Day in Stowe Gardens?’” Answer: “A Day ill-bestowed.”</p>
-
-<p>It is now some years ago, since I stood with other mourners in Edmonton
-Church Yard, beside a grave in which all that was mortal of Elia was
-deposited. It may be a dangerous confession to make, but I shed no
-tear; and scarcely did a sigh escape from my bosom. There were many
-sources of comfort. He had not died young. He had happily gone before
-that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[Pg 390]</a></span> noble sister, who not in selfishness, but the devotion of a
-unique affection, would have prayed to survive him but for a day, lest
-he should miss that tender care which had watched over him upwards
-from a little child. Finally he had left behind him his works, a rare
-legacy! and above all, however much of him had departed, there was
-still more of him that could not die&mdash;for as long as Humanity endures
-and man owns fellowship with man, the spirit of Charles Lamb will still
-be extant!</p>
-
-<p class="center mtop1 mbot1">*<span class="mleft3">*</span><span class="mleft3">*</span><span class="mleft3">*</span><span class="mleft3">*</span><span class="mleft3">*</span></p>
-
-<p>On the publication of the Odes and Addresses, presentation copies were
-sent at the suggestion of a friend, to Mr. Canning and Sir Walter
-Scott. The minister took no notice of the little volume; but the
-novelist did, in his usual kind manner. An eccentric friend in writing
-to me, once made a number of colons, semicolons, &amp;c., at the bottom of
-the paper, adding</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container s5">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“And these are my points that I place at the foot,</div>
-      <div class="verse">&ensp;That you may put stops that I can’t stop to put.”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="p0">It will surprise no one, to observe that the author of Waverley had as
-little leisure for punctuation.</p>
-
-<div class="correspondence">
-
-<p>“S<span class="smaller">IR</span> W<span class="smaller">ALTER</span> S<span class="smaller">COTT</span> has to make thankful acknowledgments for
-the copy of the Odes to Great People with which he was favoured
-and more particularly for the amusement he has received from the
-perusal. He wishes the unknown author good health good fortune
-and whatever other good things can best support and encourage his
-lively vein of inoffensive and humorous satire.</p>
-
-<p><i>Abbotsford Melrose 4th May</i>”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p>The first time I ever saw the Great Unknown, was at the private view of
-Martin’s Picture of “Nineveh,” when by a striking coincidence, one of
-our most celebrated women, and one of our<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[Pg 391]</a></span> greatest men, Mrs. Siddons
-and Sir Walter Scott, walked simultaneously up opposite sides of the
-room, and met and shook hands in front of the painting. As Editor of
-the Gem, I had afterwards occasion to write to Sir Walter, from whom I
-received the following letter, which contains an allusion to some of
-his characteristic partialities:&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="correspondence">
-
-<p>“M<span class="smaller">Y DEAR</span> M<span class="smaller">R</span>. H<span class="smaller">OOD</span>,&mdash;It was very ungracious in me to leave
-you in a day’s doubt whether I was gratified or otherwise with
-the honour you did me to inscribe your Whims and Oddities to me I
-received with great pleasure this new mark of your kindness and it
-was only my leaving your volume and letter in the country which
-delayed my answer as I forgot the address.</p>
-
-<p>I was favoured with Mr. Cooper’s beautiful sketch of the
-heart-piercing incident of the dead greyhound which is executed
-with a force and fancy which I flatter myself that I who was in my
-younger days and in part still am a great lover of dogs and horses
-and an accurate observer of their habits can appreciate, I intend
-the instant our term ends to send a few verses if I can make any
-at my years in acknowledgment. I will get a day’s leisure for this
-purpose next week when I expect to be in the country. Pray inform
-Mr. Cooper of my intention though I fear I will be unable to do
-anything deserving of the subject.</p>
-
-<p class="right mright1"><span class="mright4">I am very truly
-your obliged humble servant,</span><br />
-W<span class="smaller">ALTER</span> S<span class="smaller">COTT</span>.”<br />
-
-<span class="mright2"><i>Edinburgh 4 March.</i></span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p>At last, during one of his visits to London, I had the honour of a
-personal interview with Sir Walter Scott at Mr. Lockhart’s in Sussex
-Place. The number of the house had escaped my memory; but seeing a fine
-dog down an area, I knocked without hesitation at the door. It happened
-however to be the wrong one. I afterwards mentioned the circumstance
-to Sir Walter. It was not a bad point, he said, for he was very fond
-of dogs; but he did not care to have his own animals with him,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[Pg 392]</a></span> about
-London, “for fear he should be taken for Bill Gibbons.” I then told him
-I had lately been reading the Fair Maid of Perth, which had reminded
-me of a very pleasant day spent many years before, beside the Linn of
-Campsie, the scene of Conachar’s catastrophe. Perhaps he divined what
-had really occurred to me,&mdash;that the Linn, as a cataract, had greatly
-disappointed me; for he smiled, and shook his head archly, and said
-he had since seen it himself, and was rather ashamed of it. “But I
-fear, Mr. Hood, I have done worse than that before now, in finding a
-Monastery where there was none to be found; though there was plenty
-(here he smiled again) of Carduus Benedictus, or Holy Thistle.”</p>
-
-<p>In the meantime he was finishing his toilet, in order to dine at the
-Duchess of Kent’s; and before he put on his cravat I had an opportunity
-of noticing the fine massive proportions of his bust. It served
-to confirm me in my theory that such mighty men are, and must be,
-physically, as well as intellectually, gifted beyond ordinary mortals;
-that their strong minds must be backed by strong bodies. Remembering
-all that Sir Walter Scott had done, and all that he had suffered,
-methought he had been in more than one sense “a Giant in the Land.”
-After some more conversation, in the course of which he asked me if I
-ever came to Scotland, and kindly said he should be glad to see me at
-Abbotsford, I took my leave, with flattering dreams in my head that
-never were, and now, alas! never can be, realised!</p>
-
-<p class="center mtop1 mbot1">*<span class="mleft3">*</span><span class="mleft3">*</span><span class="mleft3">*</span><span class="mleft3">*</span><span class="mleft3">*</span></p>
-
-<p>And now, not to conclude in too melancholy a tone, allow me, gentle
-reader, to present to you the following genuine letter, the names,
-merely, for obvious reasons, being disguised.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[Pg 393]</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="correspondence">
-
-<p class="center"><i>To T. Hood, Esq.</i></p>
-
-<p>“Thou’rt a comical chap&mdash;so am I; but thou possessest brains
-competent to write what I mean;&mdash;I don’t&mdash;therefore, Brother Comic,
-wilt thou oblige me (if ’twas in my power I would you)&mdash;I’ll tell
-you just what I want, and no more. Of late, Lord *** has been
-endeavouring to raise a body of yeomanry in this county. Now
-there’s a man at Bedfont&mdash;a compounder of nauseous drugs&mdash;and
-against whom I owe a grudge, who wishes to enter, but who’s no
-more fit for a fighter than I for a punster. Now if you will just
-give him a palpable hit or two in verse, and transmit them to me
-by post, directed to A. B., Post Office, Bedfont, your kindness
-shall ever be remembered with feelings of the deepest sincerity and
-gratitude. His name is ‘J<span class="smaller">AMES</span> B<span class="smaller">OOKER</span>, C<span class="smaller">HEMIST</span>,’ Bedfont
-<i>of course</i>. If you disapprove of the above, I trust you will
-not abuse the confidence placed in you, by ‘<span class="smaller">SPLITTING</span>.’
-You’ll say, how can I?&mdash;by showing this letter to him. He knows the
-handwriting full well&mdash;but you’ll not do so, I hope. Perhaps, if
-you feel a disposition to oblige me, you will do so at your first
-convenience, ere the matter will be getting stale.</p>
-
-<p class="right mright1"><span class="mright3">“Yours truly,</span><br />
-“A. B.</p>
-
-<p>“Perhaps you will be kind enough to let me have an answer from you,
-even if you will <span class="smaller">NOT</span> condescend to accede to my wish.</p>
-
-<p>“Perhaps you’ve not sufficient particulars. He’s a little fellow,
-flushed face, long nose, precious ugly, housekeeper as ugly, lives
-between the two Peacock Inns, is a single man, very anxious to get
-possession of Miss Boltbee, a ward in Chancery with something like
-£9000 (<span class="smaller">WISH</span> he may get it), is famous for his Gout
-Medicine, sells jalap (should like to make him swallow an ounce),
-always knows other people’s business better than his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[Pg 394]</a></span> own, used
-to go to church, now goes to chapel, and in the whole, is a great
-rascal.</p>
-
-<p>“Bedfont is thirteen miles from London.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_394" name="i_394">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_394.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">PRESERVED IN SPIRITS.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnotes">
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> To borrow an example from fiction, there is that slave of
-circumstances, Oliver Twist. There are few authors whom one would care
-to see running two heats with the same horse. It is intended therefore
-as a compliment, that I wish Boz would re-write the history in question
-from page 122, supposing his hero <span class="smaller">NOT</span> to have met with the
-Artful Dodger on his road to seek his fortune.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> In justice to the Society, it ought to be recorded, that
-two of its members have since distinguished themselves in print: the
-authoress of “London in the Olden Time,” and the author of a “History
-of Moral Science.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> There was a dash of ink in my blood. My father wrote two
-novels, and my brother was decidedly of a literary turn, to the great
-disquietude for a time of an anxious parent. She suspected him, on
-the strength of several amatory poems of a very desponding cast, of
-being the victim of a hopeless attachment; so he was caught, closeted,
-and catechised, and after a deal of delicate and tender sounding,
-he confessed, not with the anticipated sighs and tears, but a very
-unexpected burst of laughter, that he had been guilty of translating
-some fragments of Petrarch.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> A cottage of Ungentility, for it had neither double
-coach-house nor wings. Like its tenant, it stood alone. He said,
-glancing at the Paternoster one, that he did not like “the Row.”
-There was a bit of a garden, in which, being, as he professed, “more
-fond of Men Sects than of Insects,” he made probably his first and
-last observation in Entomology. He had been watching a spider on a
-gooseberry bush, entrapping a fly. “Good God,” he said, “I never saw
-such a thing! Directly he was caught, in her fatal spinning, she darted
-down upon him, and in a minute turned him out, completely lapped in a
-shroud! It reminded me of the Fatal Sisters in Gray.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> A sort of rheumatic celerity, of which Sir W. Scott’s
-favourite dramatiser seemed to have a very accurate notion. Those who
-remember “poor Terry’s” deliberate delivery, will be able to account,
-for the shout of laughter which once rang throughout the Adelphi
-green-room, at his emphatic manner of giving, from a manuscript-play,
-the stage direction of “Enter&mdash;&mdash;, with&mdash;a&mdash;lack&mdash;ri&mdash;ty!”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> As regards his Unitarianism, it strikes me as more
-probable that he was what the unco guid people call “Nothing at all.”
-which means that he was every thing but a Bigot. As he was in spirit
-an Old Author, so was he in faith an Ancient Christian, too ancient to
-belong to any of the modern sub-hubbub-divisions of&mdash;Ists,&mdash;Arians,
-and&mdash;Inians.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> Talking of Poetry, Lamb told me one day that he had just
-met with the most vigorous line he had ever read. “Where?” “Out of the
-Camden’s Head, all in one line&mdash;</p>
-
-<p class="center">“To <i>One Hundred Pots of Porter</i>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;
-£2 1 8”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> Somebody happened to say that the Peasant ought to figure
-in the Percy Anecdotes, as an example of uncultivated genius. “And
-where will they stick me?” asked Clare, “will they stick me in the
-instinct?”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> I once cut out from a country newspaper what seemed to me
-a very good old English poem. It proved to be a <i>naturalization</i>, by
-Cary, of a French Song to April, by Remy Belleau.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> The father expressing an uncertainty to what profession
-he should devote a younger Cary, Lamb said, “Make him an Apothe-Cary.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> Unable to make any thing “like a likeness” of a sitter
-for the purpose, I have a sort of Irish faculty for taking faces
-behind their backs. But my pencil has not been guilty of half the
-personalities attributed to it; amongst others “a formidable likeness
-of a Lombard Street Banker.” Besides that one would rather draw on a
-Banker than at him, I have never seen the Gentleman alluded to, or even
-a portrait of him in my life.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> On a visit to Norfolk, I was much surprised to find that
-Opium, or Opie, as it was vulgarly called, was quite in common use in
-the form of pills amongst the lower classes, <i>in the vicinity of the
-Fens</i>. It is not probable that persons in such a rank of life had read
-the Confessions,&mdash;or, might not one suspect that as Dennis Brulgruddery
-was driven to drink by the stale, flat and unprofitable prospects of
-Muckslush Heath, so the Fen-People in the dreary foggy cloggy boggy
-wastes of Cambridge and Lincolnshire, had flown to the Drug for the
-sake of the magnificent <i>scenery</i> that filled the splendid visions of
-its Historian?</p>
-
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[Pg 395]</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_395" name="i_395">
-   <img class="mtop3" src="images/i_395.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption">A LEADING ARTICLE.</p>
-</div>
-
-<h2 class="nopad" id="THE_CARNABY_CORRESPONDENCE">THE CARNABY CORRESPONDENCE.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p>T<span class="smaller">HERE</span> is no estimate more ludicrous than that which is formed by
-unthinking persons of the powers of Authors. Thus when a gentleman
-has once written a Book, say, on Domestic Medicine, it is popularly
-supposed that he is competent to compose a work on any subject
-whatever, from Transcendental Philosophy down to Five Minutes’ Advice
-on the Teeth. Something of the kind is observable in the Autobiography
-of Brasbridge, the Silversmith, of Fleet Street, who tells us that
-after the publication of his Memoirs, he was hailed by a fellow-citizen
-with “So you have written a book!&mdash;why, for the future I shall call you
-Shakspeare!” as if the recorder of a set of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[Pg 396]</a></span> “fiddle-headed” anecdotes
-became, ipso facto, on a par with the creator of Othello. For another
-instance I can refer to my own humble experience. The anti-antiquarian
-nature of my literary researches is sufficiently well known; yet it
-did not prevent a grave retrospective-looking gentleman from one day
-concluding an account of some inedited architectural remains near
-Whitehall, with&mdash;“I wonder now that <i>you</i>, as a writer, have never
-taken up the subject!” The worthy F.A.S. might as well have suggested
-a plot for a Farce to Sylvanus Urban;&mdash;but such is the general
-opinion of the universality of a genius that prints. Bearing this
-tendency in mind, it will not seem so extraordinary that the following
-correspondence should be placed in the hands of the Editor of the Comic
-Annual by a respectable tradesman, who affirmed with tears in his eyes,
-that “it was a grave subject, worthy of the serious consideration of
-the Public.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_397" name="i_397">
-   <img class="mtop3" src="images/i_397.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption">THERE’S A DEFICIENCY ON THE QUARTER.</p>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="r5" />
-
-<p class="center mbot1">No. I.&mdash;<i>To Mister</i> B<span class="smaller">ENJAMIN</span>
-C<span class="smaller">ARNABY</span>, <i>7, Brigantine Row,
-Deptford, London. (With Spead.)</i></p>
-
-<p class="mleft2">D<span class="smaller">EER</span> B<span class="smaller">RUTHER</span>,</p>
-
-<p>I am trully sory to arrow up yure relativ felings But it do seam to Me
-as my deer Bob is beeing shamfully Iltretid at his Skull. Inclosd is
-the pore fellars too letters the last jist cum to hand, And were sich
-a blo to fathurly felings I have nevver bean my hone Man evver sins.
-Id appeer he hav wel ni bin Starvd. Prays God his pore Muther is coald
-under the Hearth, it wud spile the rest of hir hashes if so be she
-cood read his tail of pewtered meet. If she ad a delite hear abuv it
-were childrins legs strate And there Bellis well fild partickly groin
-up Yuths&mdash;and She wood av run creazy to think of the Constitushun bein
-rewind for evver and ever with turnd tabil Bear. And you too I no you
-will blead at art for the mizriz of yure pore Nevy But I hop you will
-old up under it tho it be as it war a thunder<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[Pg 397]</a></span>boult on us boath. In
-respex of Larning it seam his mind hav bin reglectid to be nurrisht up
-as well as is bodely Fram even to cumpare the too Leters my Bob rite a
-site better gud Inglish nor his Master witch to my mind He mite hav dun
-grates at Home in loo of paing sich mints of Munny for Skulling But wat
-disapints me Most next to his fammishin is the Greek and Lattin as I
-did sit my Art upon to hav won clasicle Skollard branch in the famely.
-Them too hushers desarves a wiping at a carts tale, and so do that
-mawks with hir luv gammux in juvenal presents Much gud it wur my sendin
-him abuv a duzzin mile off from Lunnun to uncorrup his morrils. Has for
-the Dockter I cud find in my hart to strip his dipplomer over his years
-with my hone ands wen I think that in loo of techin the yung idear how
-to shut he has mayhap stunted the Pore boys groth for his lif to cum.
-But overpourin felings forebids my drawin moor picters of Bobs suffrin.
-I have had no stummuck ever sins the Post<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[Pg 398]</a></span> nockt me down with the Nus.
-But it wood not be becummin a parrent and a Farthe to be revealing in
-lucksriz wile the Sun of his hone lines ware revealing in fliblod beaf
-and vargis. To be sure these is felings that you as an unmarred man
-cant enter into at full lenth, but as hone Unkil by fleash and blud you
-will enter into the hard boord partickly as yure hone coarse of lif as
-had its scrimps and cum shorts and tort you what it is to be pincht
-in youre Fud. Wi i mite as well hav sent him to a short communing
-Yorksheer Skull at twenty pound per anum a yeer and had his close
-chuckt in to his Bed and bord. In the interium I hav forwardid him a
-cumfitting letter with a Won Pun Not to treet himself to sumat moor
-stayin and suportin nor stal pastery. But I do hop and beg Deer Bruther
-to hav your sentimints on the cas as you be moor caperble to advize
-me than I am, and not to delay riting if so be yure officious dutis
-purvent pearsonally quitin the yard. I wud have tuck a place on the
-Rumfud Stag and sit off at wons but Gowt forebid my cotching and so do
-Missis Rumsey for as yusial wen my felings is Frustratid all my Nervs
-is flone to my Fut. Pore Missis Rumsey simperthizes at evvery thing and
-is quit as upsit in her sperrits for as she say altho but Houskeper
-her Bowls yarns to Bob all as one with an hone hoffspring. She do say
-as Bobs a littel piggin brested and shoes simtoms of pullmary afection
-she trembil for fear pourness of blud sows seeds of sumthink fatle in
-his lunges. Indeed her mutherly hangsity offen remind a lass of her
-as lies volting in All allows barking. With witch I conclud with all
-brutherly luv, hopping to here by return of Poast. I no you seldim or
-nevver anser peples favers partickly mine but I do hop as this hear is
-a matter of vittle importins you will devot a few minuets to</p>
-
-<p class="right mright2"><span class="mright3">Yure luving but aflicted Bruther</span><br />
-J<span class="smaller">OHN</span> C<span class="smaller">ARNABY</span>.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[Pg 399]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>P. S. If so be you thort best to poshay off xpressivly to Bob, watever
-is disburstid out of pockit my Puss shall kiver the hole. Praps you
-may lick him to be tuck away at wons for it wud be a thowsend pitis to
-brake his sperrit and he is rayther tender artid as you may gudge by
-wat he rite of his pore late muther. Well, hevin nose I war never in
-faver of turning Cots but if so be they wood reform the Skulls I wood
-jine the Wigs.</p>
-
-<hr class="r5" />
-
-<p class="center mbot1">E<span class="smaller">NCLOSURE</span>, No.
-I.&mdash;<i>To</i> J<span class="smaller">OHN</span> C<span class="smaller">ARNABY</span>, <i>Esquire.
-Number 49, Polyanthus Place, Mile End Road, London.</i></p>
-
-<p class="mleft2">H<span class="smaller">ONOURED</span> P<span class="smaller">ARENT</span>,</p>
-
-<p>As the sight of his native Terra Firma to the hardy Mariner on the
-pathless waste of the vast expanse of Ocean, so are the filial
-affections of a Son and School boy to inform we break up on Friday the
-21st Instant; when I hope to find Yourself, comprising all my Relations
-and Friends, enjoying that greatest of Blessings, a state of salubrity.</p>
-
-<p>When we add to this the pleasing Sensation of scholastic Duties
-fulfilled with Attention, Industry, and Diligence, accompanied by a
-preponderating Progress in all juvenile Studies, Objects, and Pursuits,
-a sanguine expectation is indulged that the parental Sentiments of
-Satisfaction will be spontaneously conferred on the present half
-Year, participating however with a due regard to health, comfort,
-and morals. Indeed it would be precocious to anticipate otherwise
-by the unrelenting Vigilance and Inculcation evinced by our Guide,
-Philosopher, and Friend, Doctor Darby and Assistants, as likewise the
-more than maternal Solicitude betrayed by Mrs. Doctor D. who begs Leave
-to cordially unite with the Same in Respectful Compliments.</p>
-
-<p>I am happy to say the improvement I have made in the Latin and
-Greek Tongues, including French and Italian, has been very great
-and such as I trust to deserve and obtain his Parent’s, Master’s,
-Friend’s and Wellwisher’s warmest approbation and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[Pg 400]</a></span> Esteem. And this
-Reflection will be enhanced to reflect, that by being impressed upon
-by pious, virtuous, and loyal Principles, every juvenile Member of the
-Establishment is a firm and uncompromising Supporter and Defender of
-King, Church and State.</p>
-
-<p>I will now conclude by giving my best Love to all Relations and
-Friends, and accept the Same from</p>
-
-<p class="right mright2"><span class="mright6">Honoured Parent,</span><br />
-<span class="mright2">Your Dutiful and Affectionate Son,</span><br />
-R<span class="smaller">OBERT</span> C<span class="smaller">ARNABY</span>.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_401" name="i_401">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_401.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">DRAWING UP ARTICLES OF SEPARATION.</p>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="r5" />
-
-<p class="center mbot1">E<span class="smaller">NCLOSURE</span> No.
-II.&mdash;<i>From the Same to the Same.</i></p>
-
-<p class="mleft2">D<span class="smaller">EAR</span> F<span class="smaller">ATHER</span>,</p>
-
-<p>I hope you wont be angry at writing of my own Acord and if you like
-you may stop the postage out of what you mean to give me next time,
-but the other letter was all a flam and didnt speak my real mind. The
-Doctor frumpt it all up out of his own head, and we all copied it out
-for all our fathers. What I want to tell you is as the holidays is so
-nigh, I do wish you would make up your mind for me to be took away for
-good and all. I dont like the victuals for one thing and besides I am
-allmost sure we are not well teached. The table beer always gives me
-the stomach ake if I don’t tie a string tight round it and I only wish
-you see some of Mr. Murphy’s ruling when he smells so of rum Another
-thing is the batter puddings which the fellows call it putty, because
-it sticks pains in our insides, and sometimes we have stinking beef.
-Tom Spooner has saved a bit on the sly to show parents, but it’s so
-strong we are afeard it wont keep over the three weeks to the holidays,
-and we are treated like gally slaves, and hare and hounds is forbid
-because last time the hare got up behind the Chelmsford Coach and went
-home to his friends in Leadenhall Market. As for sums<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[Pg 401]</a></span> we know the
-ciphering Master has got a Tutors Key because theres a board at the
-bottom of his desk comes out with a little coaxing, and more than that
-hes a cruel savage and makes love to Masters daughter, and shes often
-courted in the school room because its where her father don’t come
-so much as anywheres else. The new Footman is another complaint. The
-Doctor dont allow him nothing a year for his wages except his profits
-out of the boys with fruit and pastery, and besides being rotten and
-stale, hes riz burnt almonds twice since Micklemas. Then we are almost
-quite sure Monseur Le Smith dont know Italian at least we have always
-observed he never talks to the image boys, and the old Cook never
-favours no one now except Carter with sop in pans ever since his Mother
-come to see him. And thats<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[Pg 402]</a></span> why I do hope at my next school you will
-raise my pocket money, its unpossible to tip handsome out of sixpence
-a week. Jackson saved enough to buy a Donkey and then divided him into
-shares and I had a shilling share but the Doctor were so unjust as
-seize on him altho there was no law agin bringing asses to the school.
-It was the same on Guy Fox day with our squibs and rockets which we
-was more mortified to hear them going off after we were in bed. I am
-certain sure we should have had a barring out in our school room long
-and long ago only the Doctor hardly ever wants to come in. Thats the
-way the ushers do just as they like in school hours and Mr. Huckings
-does a leathersellers bookkeeping and Mr. Snitch makes poetry for the
-newspapers. Its not my fault then if I am backwards in my Greek and
-Latin though I have got a Prize for Spelling and Grammer but we all
-have prizes for something to please our parents when we go home. The
-only treat we have is reddishes out of the garden when they are got old
-and burning hot and popgunny and them wont last long as masters going
-to keep pigs. I suppose then we shall have measely pork to match the
-stinking beef. The fellows say its because the Doctor swops Stokes’s
-schooling agin butchers meat and as the edication is so very bad old
-Stokes on his part wont send in any better quality. Thats whats called
-mutual accommodation in the newspapers. Give my love to Mrs. Rumsey
-with thanks for the plum cake only next time more sweetmeat, and say
-I am almost sure I sometimes sleep in a damp bed. I am certain sure
-Mrs. Rumsey would advise you the same as I do, namely for me to be
-took away, without running more risks, if it was only for fear of Mac
-Kenzie, for hes a regular tyrant and hectors over us all. Hes three
-parts a nigger and you cant punch his head so as to do any good, and
-only last Monday he was horsed for wanting to googe little Jones’s eyes
-out and for nothing at all but just looking at his towel to see if the
-black come off. I am ready to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[Pg 403]</a></span> take my drop down dead if it is not all
-faithfully true, Mac Kenzie and the beef and the Footman and all, and
-I do hope you will trust to my word and be agreeable to my offer to be
-took away and I do hope it will be before next Saturday for that’s Mr.
-Paynes visiting day, the Drawing Master as I call him, but some of the
-fellows have nick named him Sinbad because he hunted the elephants so
-for their teeth. Philip Frank says theres a capital school at Richmond
-where the Master permits fishing and boating and cigars and gunpowder
-and poney chaises for only sixty guineas a year. I often think if my
-poor dear late Mother was alive it is just the genteel sort of School
-she would like me to be finished off at. But thats as you prefer and
-if you will only promise upon your honour to remove me I wont run
-away. I forgot to say I have very bad head akes some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[Pg 404]</a></span>times besides the
-stomach akes and last week I was up in the nussery for being feverish
-and spotty, and I had to take antimonious wine but nothing made me sick
-except the gruel. Precious stuff it is and tastes like slate pencil
-dust and salt. I was in great hopes it was scarlet fever or something
-catching that I might be sent home to you, but the fisician said my
-rash was only chickings or stinging nettles. Altogether I am so unhappy
-at not getting on in my learning that I do beg and pray to be took
-away, and I will be very dutiful and grateful all the rest of my days.
-Do, pray, do, and consider me down on my bended knees. And I will wish
-you every comfort in life if you will only provide for mine, and I will
-pray for your gout to go away for ever and ever, and then I will nurse
-your last days and be such a good son to you as never was except me.
-And in that case I owe three shillings to the footman and shouldn’t
-like to leave the school in debt. I shall expect to see you come in all
-the coaches that go the road or at least that you will fetch me in a
-letter, and if I am disappointed I really do believe I shall go off my
-head or something. With which I remain</p>
-
-<p class="right mright1"><span class="mright8">Dear Father,</span><br />
-<span class="mright2">Your dutiful and affectionate Son,</span><br />
-R<span class="smaller">OBERT</span> C<span class="smaller">ARNABY</span>.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_403" name="i_403">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_403.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">THE OLD ORIGINAL RAILWAY.</p>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="r5" />
-
-<p class="center mbot1">No. II.&mdash;<i>To Mister</i> J<span class="smaller">OHN</span>
-C<span class="smaller">ARNABY</span>, <i>Number 49, Polyanthus Place, Mile
-End, London.</i></p>
-
-<p class="mleft2">D<span class="smaller">EAR</span> B<span class="smaller">ROTHER</span>,</p>
-
-<p>This is to acknowledge the favour of your family letter with
-enclosures, which came to hand as pleasant and welcome as a 4-inch
-shell, that is no great treat of itself, and discharges a worse lot
-of botheration from its inside. Between both I got as Port Royal a
-headache as a man need desire from a bottle of new rum, for which, as
-it’s not unbrotherly to swear at a nevy,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[Pg 405]</a></span> “dear Bob” and his school be
-d&mdash;d. As to my not answering letters, I <i>always</i> do, provided they are
-either saucy or challenging; in which case, like answering a broadside,
-it’s a point of duty and honour to return as good as you get;&mdash;but for
-swopping sweet civil lollipop letters, lick for lick, it’s more than I
-would do with any female alive, let alone a man. And when yours are not
-lollipopping, they’re snivelling, or else both together, as the case
-is now. However blood’s blood: and so for once I will commit what you
-want, rather than accept your invite, and go up to help you and that
-old dry red cow, Mother Rumsey, to chew the cud of the matter all over
-again by word of mouth. As for harrowing up my feelings, or ploughing
-them up either, thank my stars it’s a stiffer soil than that comes to.
-Why, my feelings are as tough&mdash;and not without need&mdash;as a bull-beef
-steak fresh killed, and take quite as much pitching into before they’re
-as tender as you suppose. Likely it is, that a man who has rammed his
-head, as I have in Africa, into a stuck camel for a secondhand swig at
-his cistern, would come within sixty degrees of the notion of pitying
-a lubberly school-boy for having as much as ever he could swill of
-sour swipes! Then for bad food, the stinkingest beef I ever met with
-was none to be had, good or bad, except the smell of the empty barrel.
-That’s something like what you call being pincht in my fud; and so it
-was I reckon when I gave my watch, and a good seven shilling piece
-besides, for about a pound of pork cartridges. So I’m not going to
-pipe my eye at dear Bob’s short commons neither. It’s all very well
-for pap-boating mothers to admire fat babbies while they’re on the
-lap; but the whole human breed would be spoiled, if Mother Nature
-did not unspoil it again by sending us now and then to the School
-of Adversity, without a knife and fork and a spoon. I came in for a
-quarter’s learning there myself, in the Desart as aforesaid, and one of
-the lessons I learnt was from the ostriches; namely, when you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[Pg 406]</a></span> can’t
-get a regular cargo of food, you must go in ballast with old shoes,
-leather caps, or any other odd matters you can pick up. There’s nothing
-in life like bringing chaps up hardy, if they’re to stand the hammering
-we’re all born to, provided we are born alive. I once heard a clever
-Yankee arguing to the same point. “Rear up your lads,” says he, “like
-nails; and then they’ll not only go through the world, but you may
-clench ’em on t’other side.” And for my part, if I was a father, which
-thank God I am not, to my knowledge, I would mark down a week of Banyan
-days to every month in the Almanack, just to accustom the youngsters to
-take in and let out their bread bags, till it came natural; like the
-Laps and Esquimaux, who spend their lives in a feast and a fast, turn
-and turn about, whereby their insides get as elastic as India rubber,
-and accommodate themselves to their loading, chock full or clean, as
-falls out. I’ve known the time I would have given all my prize-money
-for a set of linings of the same conveniency, as when it was coming
-to the toss-up of a cowry whether I was to eat Tom Pike, or Tom Pike
-was to eat me. Just read the North Pole Voyages, and you will see that
-pampering bellies is not the exact course to make Captain Backs. So
-for all that’s been made on that tack, hitherto, you owe nothing but a
-higher rating to Doctor Darby, provided there’s any step above Doctor
-in his service; I’ll even go so far as stand my share towards a bit
-of plate to him, for not making my nevy a loblolly milk-sop. That’s
-my notion about hard fare. To be sure there was Mother Brownrigg was
-hung for going a little too near the wind in her ‘prentices’ insides;
-but if the balance was squared, a few of the other old women would be
-run up to the yard-arm, for slow poisoning the rising generation with
-sugar-plum cakes and kickshaw tarts. And that your dear Bob has got
-a rare sweet tooth of his own is as plain as the Pike of Teneriffe,
-for it sticks out like a Barbary wild boar’s tusks all through his
-precious complaints.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[Pg 407]</a></span> Whereby you had better clap a stopper on in time,
-unless mayhap you want him to grow up in the fashion, which seems
-now-a-days for our young men to know, and think, and talk, aye and
-write too, about kitchen craft,&mdash;with their <i>pully olays</i> and <i>volley
-vongs</i>&mdash;as if they was so many cook’s mates at a French hotel. There’s
-no disputing likings, but rather than be such a macaroni dishclout
-dandy, as delicate as a lap-dog, I’d be a turnspit’s whelp at once, and
-sit up on my hind legs a-begging for the sop in the pan. Now if you’re
-for his being one of those unabled-bodied objects of creation, I’ve
-no more to say; for you have got the right bearings, and have only to
-stand on till you bring dear Bob and Molly Coddle into one. But if so
-be on the contrary you have gumption enough to want to claw off that
-point, then down helm at once, and cut Mother<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">[Pg 408]</a></span> Rumsey adrift, plum
-cakes and all. I’ve long had on my mind to drop you a word of advice
-against that old catamaran, who knows fast enough that two bears’ heads
-are never so likely to rub together as when they’re a-licking the same
-cub. By the cub I mean my nevy, and the two old ones are you and Mother
-R. Besides it’s been my observation through life. Many’s the young man
-and woman will live for years together in the same house, or make the
-India voyage together in the same ship, without hooking on, or even
-coming in sight of such a notion; but neither I, nor anybody else, ever
-saw two old ones, he and she, in the like case, without their coming at
-long and at last to a splice in church. So it is with an old cat and
-dog, that while they had a tooth in their heads could hardly abide in
-the same parish, whereas when they get on the superannuated list, you
-will see them as thick as thieves, and messing together in the same
-dish. The philosophy of it is more than I pretend to know, unless it be
-they’re past fighting, and fit for no active sort of work;&mdash;but so it
-is, as sure as the sea is salt. You had best then part company at once,
-if you don’t want to see dear Bob mast-headed up to the back garret, or
-cooped down in the coal-cellar, on monkey’s allowance; such being the
-first steps a stepmother always takes in any story-book I ever read.
-I’m for my nevy having fair-play after all. So as I’ve subscribed to
-the bit of plate to Dr. Darby for case-hardening the fellow’s carcass,
-you may set me down towards the spitefullest boatswain’s cat that ever
-was handled, in case it turns out he has neglected the boy’s mind.
-I’ve seen a man seized up for a much smaller offence than crimping and
-inveigling a long hundred of lads at a time to a Sham Abram school, and
-swindling them out of the best part of the property about them, namely
-their juvenile time. It is only a streak above kidnapping, seeing that
-for any profit in learning the youngsters might as well spend their
-best years in the Plantations. Not but that Parents de<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409">[Pg 409]</a></span>serve a cobbing
-themselves for putting a boy under a master without asking to look at
-his certificates. As for the Latin and Greek, mayhap they’re no loss
-to take on about. The dead and gone tongues for a tradesman’s son,
-that’s going behind a counter, is much of a muchness with fitting up a
-Newcastle collier’s cabin after the pattern of a Leith smack’s; only
-that the gilding and polishing may be grimed and grubbed off again in
-the course of trade. Still, considering they were paid for as work
-done, in common honesty my nevy ought to have had them put in his
-head; or at least something in lieu, such as Navigation or the like.
-His own mother tongue is quite a different matter; and thereupon I’ll
-give you my mind, upright and downright, of the two School-letters.
-To be sure the Doctor likes weight of metal, and fires away with the
-high-soundingest words he can get, whereby his meaning is apt to loom
-bigger than it is, like a fishing-boat in a fog; and where there’s
-such a ground swell of language, a seaman is apt to think there’s no
-great depth of ideas; but bating that, there’s nothing to shake a
-rope’s end at, but quite the reverse, especially as to teaching the
-youngsters to give three cheers for their king and country. Now, Dear
-Bob’s letter-work on the other hand, with its complaints of hard fare,
-is only fit to be sung by a snivelling Swiss beggar boy to his hurdy
-gurdy; besides many a chafe in the grammar and orthography, and being
-writ in such a scrambling up and down fist as a drunken purser might
-scrawl in a gale of wind. Now it’s my opinion a landsman that hasn’t
-his hands made as hard as horn with hauling home sheets nor his fingers
-as stiff and sticky as pitch can make ’em, has it in his power to write
-as fine penmanship as copperplate except for the want of good will. So
-that the fault may be set down to my nevy’s own account, and mayhap
-many of the rest, for no doubt there are skulkers at school as well as
-on board ship. My advice then is this, namely, just throw a shot across
-Dr. Darby’s forefoot, to let him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">[Pg 410]</a></span> know you mean to overhaul him, and
-demand a sight of the school log, and so forth; by which you will have
-satisfaction one way or another; and putting the case he has gone to
-leeward of his duty, why, then come hammer and tongs, and blaze away at
-him to your heart’s content. The next step in course will be to take my
-nevy from under his orders, and find him a berth in a well officered
-ship; and I am ready so far to do an uncle’s part by the lad, as help
-to look out for a proper well-appointed craft. That’s my advice whether
-you steer by it or not&mdash;and so no more at present, and not sorry to
-belay&mdash;from</p>
-
-<p class="right mright1"><span class="mright1">Dear John, Your loving Brother,</span><br />
-B<span class="smaller">EN</span> C<span class="smaller">ARNABY</span>.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_407" name="i_407">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_407.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">LAYING DOWN THE LAW.</p>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="r5" />
-
-<p class="center mbot1">No. III.&mdash;<i>To Mr.</i> B<span class="smaller">ENJAMIN</span>
-C<span class="smaller">ARNABY</span>, <i>Brigantine Row, Deptford,
-London.</i></p>
-
-<p class="mleft2">D<span class="smaller">EER</span> B<span class="smaller">RUTHER</span>,</p>
-
-<p>This is to acnolidge the faver of your verry hash letter as I am
-complld to call it, both as regard deer Bob and that verry wurthy sole,
-pore Mrs. Rumsey. I am sory to find you can bare a grug so long, for
-I am shure she is too obleeging and civil spokin to hav disagred to
-your smokin in the parler if so be she had none you maid it sich a
-int. As for her inwigglin me into becummin a step farther to my one
-child watever old brut bares and cats and dogs may do, I hop my Virtu
-will purtect me from infiddlety to a former ti. As for pore Bob, he
-hav no more sweat toth then all boys is born with, and if he do rite
-with a bad hand, i nevver cud rite any grate shacks myself on an emti
-stummach. But that’s what you can’t or won’t inter into, no more than
-I can inter into cammil’s insids or hostridges eating their old shues
-and lether caps. In regard to yure advis thanking you all the sam,
-but meen to foller my hone, not but wat it ware nateral for you to
-recumend acording to yure<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">[Pg 411]</a></span> one line of lif, to wom fiting and dueling
-is sekonand nater. As such hammer and tonges and blazin away pistles
-wood be quit in yure spear, but as for my wantin satisfaxion of Doctor
-Darby, and shuting his fore feet, or his hind feet ether, or inded any
-wares els, is moor than I coud promis tho no dout ment kindly, but I
-am nun of yure wingin amers. Besids being agin the Bibil and Gospil
-and only fit for gentilmen born. Still I tak as frendly ment, as well
-as yure offir to git yure nevy a siteation on bord ship witch wood
-be a shure way to hurry my dissent to the Tom. The see always was a
-haw to my mind, and if it litind or a grate hevvy gal came, I shod
-transpire with frite; or be thinkin on fogie nites of the ship lossing
-her way and gittin out of her depth. Howsumever I feal grateful for the
-horible idear, tho I cant xcept, and in meen time have rit to Dr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">[Pg 412]</a></span> D.
-to remonsterit and ask him to say candiddle wether he hav starvd deer
-Bob and ruind his mind or no. I faver with a coppy of mine and will
-foreward hisn wen it cum, and as my gowt is mendin, mayhap I may go
-down to rumfud sum of thes days, and luck into every think with my one
-ize.</p>
-
-<p class="right mright1"><span class="mright4">I am Deer Benjamin</span><br />
-<span class="mright2">Yure luving Bruther</span><br />
-J<span class="smaller">OHN</span> C<span class="smaller">ARNABY</span>.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_411" name="i_411">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_411.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">BUTT AND BEN.</p>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="r5" />
-
-<p class="center mbot1">(Copy.)<br />
-<i>To Dr.</i> D<span class="smaller">ARBY</span> <i>Socratis Hous School
-Establismint, Rumfud Essex.</i></p>
-
-<p class="mleft2">D<span class="smaller">OCTER</span> D<span class="smaller">ARBY</span>
-S<span class="smaller">UR</span>.</p>
-
-<p>If so be a farther and a Parrint may tak so grate a libberty, its my
-wish to rite about my Sun. Not bein a skollard, oing to neglected
-genus in yuth, I am uncompitent to be a Gudge and war indust to sho
-the skull letter to my Bruther Benjamin, of the late Rial Navy who had
-moor buck larning for his Sheers,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">[Pg 413]</a></span> besids seein forren parts and he
-do say wot give grate concern to All as is concarned, namely my Suns
-edication is fur from a thurro nollige of evvery thing, and partickly
-his hostifografy or summat to that effect. As such is hily blammabil
-to yureself or tooters whos provins war to propergit wot they had in
-their hone heds into them under them, insted of witch his unkel say
-he hav bin teecht moor ignorans then anny think else. Witch is verry
-ard considring mints of munny lad out, and hevin nose I have not bin
-sparring with him, but pade away at a grate rat, ever sins he war
-britchd. Hunderds cant kiver him from fust to last And nothin but
-blited hops arter all. Cirkimstancis purvented my having moor nor one
-acomplishment and that war my farthers bisness, but tho brort up hill
-miself I no the Valley of edicashun. Warefor if it be no offens I wish
-to no candiddle from your hone Mouth wether you hav so unedicatted
-him as his Unkil suspex. At sam tim will esteam a faver to no if he
-continny in gud helth witch ware always a littel dellicat and pecking,
-but I trust as how Rumfud hare and gud beaf and muttin and holesum wit
-bred and milk hav made him quit fat. His pore late muther lickwise
-made a pint of gud unturnd tabel bear, as all assiduities is injurus
-to yuth. As she used to say, pore sole, fud and flanning saves fisick.
-Allso I hop and trust you disalow the boys of advanst years tirenizing
-over the weekly wons, or savedge tooters as is apt to sho lickings and
-dislickings. The tooters morrils in course is a car not overluckd, but
-sweetharting demand constant vigilings to gard agin its cumming in
-clandestiny where it ort not. Mrs. Rumsey also begs to apollogiz for
-naming damp beds, but in coarse Misses Doctor Darby have a muther’s
-feelings about damp lining for boys boddis. All witch will give grate
-sattisfaxun to here, as in case of the revers parrintel duty will feal
-hobbligated to remov afore the mischief go to fur. I shall luck eggerly
-for your anser and trust you will embrace all the queerys. I ashore it
-will giv grate pleshure not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414">[Pg 414]</a></span> to hav to remove my custom, with witch and
-respective compliments,</p>
-
-<p class="right mright1"><span class="mright6">I remane Dr. Darby Sur</span><br />
-<span class="mright2">Your verry humbel Servant</span><br />
-J<span class="smaller">OHN</span> C<span class="smaller">ARNABY</span>.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_412" name="i_412">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_412.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“WE DON’T KNOW WHAT WE CAN DO TILL WE TRY.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="r5" />
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_414" name="i_414">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_414.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“THERE’S A RIGHT WAY AND A WRONG FOR EVERY THING.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center mbot1">No. IV.&mdash;<i>To Mister</i>
-B<span class="smaller">ENJAMIN</span> C<span class="smaller">ARNABY</span>,
-<i>Brigantine Row, Deptford.</i></p>
-
-<p class="mleft2">D<span class="smaller">EER</span> B<span class="smaller">ENJAMIN</span>,</p>
-
-<p>Inclosd is Dr. Darby’s explainative Not, witch for anny thing I no to
-the contrairy is evvery thing as we cud luck for, without going into
-the retales. He apear to hav no douts of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415">[Pg 415]</a></span> misscomprehenshun on our
-parts, witch prove us to be boath in the rong as will be a grate comfit
-to you and deer Benjamin.</p>
-
-<p class="right mright2"><span class="mright2">Yure luving Bruther</span><br />
-J<span class="smaller">OHN</span> C<span class="smaller">ARNABY</span>.</p>
-
-<hr class="r5" />
-
-<p class="center mbot2">(T<span class="smaller">HE</span> E<span class="smaller">NCLOSURE</span>.)&mdash;<i>To</i>
-J<span class="smaller">OHN</span> C<span class="smaller">ARNABY</span>, <i>Esquire.</i></p>
-
-<p class="mleft2">D<span class="smaller">EAR</span> S<span class="smaller">IR</span>,</p>
-
-<p>In ancient Greece and Rome, so celebrated for their classical
-Attainments, it would have been considered derogatory to the Academical
-Dignity, for Scholastic Discipline to be subject to Animadversion from
-a Civic Character, professedly unconversant with Polite Literature in
-all its Branches. As the Principal of a Pedagogical Establishment, I
-might, therefore, objurgate with Propriety any irrelevant Discussion
-to be deprecated from such a superfluous source. Conscious, however,
-of standing on the Basis of an undeniable Prospectus, which professes
-to embrace Universal Knowledge, throughout the Circle of the Arts and
-Sciences, I am prepared to assert that a more Comprehensive System
-of Education could not be devised than that which is ascribed to
-the Establishment of Socrates House. If further Testimonials were
-necessary, I might triumphantly appeal to the Mental Cultivation of
-flourishing Members of Society, evinced in the successful Pursuit of
-Affluence, in the Eastern and Western Hemispheres, so advantageous
-to the Commerce, Wealth, and Power, of the United Kingdom. Such
-Testimonies, it is presumed, are sufficiently obvious to the most
-Unprejudiced Mind, to demand those unerring Principles of fostering
-Talent, inviting Emulation, and stimulating Enquiry, combined with
-Moral, Intellectual, and Dietetical qualities, such as to command
-the unreserved Approbation and Confidence of all parties engaged in
-the important Task of Juvenile Tuition. Trusting that the Prolixity
-of this explanatory Statement will propitiate the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_416" id="Page_416">[Pg 416]</a></span> most Paternal
-Solicitude, with sentiments in accordance with the rapid Progress of
-Human Civilization, permit me to subscribe myself, with every feeling
-of respect,</p>
-
-<p class="right mright2"><span class="mright8">Dear Sir,</span><br />
-<span class="mright1">Your most obedient, faithful, humble servant,</span><br />
-S<span class="smaller">IMON</span> D<span class="smaller">ARBY</span>, LL.D.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_416" name="i_416">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_416.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">WIGWAM.</p>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="r5" />
-
-<p class="center mbot2">No. V.&mdash;<i>To Mr.</i>
-J<span class="smaller">OHN</span> C<span class="smaller">ARNABY</span>, <i>49,
-Polyanthus Place, Mile End Road, London.</i></p>
-
-<p class="mleft2">D<span class="smaller">EAR</span> B<span class="smaller">ROTHER</span>,</p>
-
-<p>If I was to write what comes uppermost, I should stand a chance of a
-place I won’t name. But you always was a you-know-what, and as the
-proverb says, there’s never a one like you now you are old. As for the
-school, it’s the nest of a land pirate; and for any good to his mind,
-dear Bob might as well be in the Hulks. However it won’t do to let you
-go and make a so-and-so of yourself all over the country&mdash;whereby,
-luckily for you, there’s an old shipmate of mine laid up at Rumford,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">[Pg 417]</a></span>
-and so I can kill him and my Nevy with the same stone. So let Mister
-Doctor Darby look out for squalls, and that’s all from</p>
-
-<p class="right mright2"><span class="mright3">Your loving Brother,</span><br />
-B<span class="smaller">EN</span> C<span class="smaller">ARNABY</span>.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_417" name="i_417">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_417.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“BLESS ME, HOW BALD YOU ARE!”<br />
-    “YES&mdash;I WAS PLUCKED AT COLLEGE.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="r5" />
-
-<p class="center mbot2">No. VI.&mdash;(<i>From the Same to the Same.</i>)</p>
-
-<p class="mleft2">D<span class="smaller">EAR</span> B<span class="smaller">ROTHER</span>,</p>
-
-<p>This is to say I made this place, namely Rumford, yesterday morning
-about 10 <span class="smaller">A.M.</span>, and immediately bore away to Socrates House,
-and asked for my nevy,&mdash;but you shall have it logged down all fair and
-square.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_422" name="i_422">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_422.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“IN FOR A PENNY&mdash;IN FOR A POUND.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Well, after a haul at the bell, and so forth, I was piloted into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">[Pg 418]</a></span> a
-room, on the ground tier, by the footman, and a pastryfaced son of a
-land cook he looked sure enough. Where, as soon as may be, Mrs. Doctor
-Darby joins company, a tight little body enough, all bobbing up and
-down with courtesys like the buoy at the Nore, and as oily tongued as
-any rat in the Greenland Docks. By her own account, she rated a step
-above Mother to six score of boys, big and little, and every man jack
-of them more made of, and set store by, than if they had been parts
-of her own live stock. All which flummery would go down with you, and
-the marines, mayhap, but not with old sailors like me. As for dear
-Bob, she buttered him of both sides, thick and threefold, as the best,
-sweetest, darlingest, and what not young gentleman of the whole kit,
-besides finding out a family likeness between him and his uncle, which
-if it’s any feature at all, is all my eye. Next she enquired after
-you, the worthiest parent she ever knew, not excepting her own father,
-whereby I blest my stars you were not within hail; or you would have
-been flabbergasted in no time, with your eyes running like scuppers,
-and your common senses on their beam ends. At long and last in comes my
-Nevy himself, as smooth and shining as a new copper; whereby says she,
-“I hope you will excuse untidiness, and so forth, because of sending
-for him just as he stood.” That’s how he came no doubt in his Sunday’s
-breeches; besides twigging the wet soap-suds in his ears. “Here my
-sweet love,” she sings out, “here’s your dear kind uncle so good as to
-come to enquire after your welfare.” So dear Bob, heaves ahead, and
-gets a kiss, not from me tho, and a liquorish lozenge for what she
-called his nasty hack. Nothing however but a colic with parched peas,
-as he owned to afterwards. “Now, then, Nevy,” says I, “what cheer&mdash;how
-do you like your berth?” when up jumps Madam like a scalded cat; and
-no or yes, I must drink the favour of a glass of Sherry Rank Cape,
-John, as ever was shipped. Then Master Robert,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">[Pg 419]</a></span> bless him, must have a
-leetle glass too, but provided I approve, and a ration of sweet cake.
-Whereby says she, “Now I will leave you to your mutual confidences”&mdash;as
-looked all fair and above board enough, if I had not made out a foot
-near the door. And in the twinkling of a handspike in sails Dr. Darby
-himself, with as many scrapes to me as if I was Port Admiral; and as
-anxious about my old gout,&mdash;for I’ve got an easy shoe for a bunion&mdash;as
-if he’d been intimate with it in my great-grandfather’s time. Well, we
-palavered a bit about the French news, and the weather, and the crops,
-whatever you like, let alone book learning; but that was not my course,
-and impatient to see Tom Pike, besides, so I ran slap aboard him at
-once with an ask to see the school. As I looked for, he was took all
-aback; however Madam wasn’t thrown so dead in the wind, but jumped up
-to the bell tackle, and after a bit of a whisper with the servant, we
-got under way for the school; but contrived to land somehow in the
-kitchen, with a long row of quartern loaves drawn up on a dresser to
-receive us, like a file of marines. Then Madam begins to spin a long
-yarn about plain food, but plenty of it, for growing youths&mdash;dear Bob’s
-very lathy, John, for all that&mdash;and then comes the Doctor’s turn to
-open with a preachment on animal foods, and what will digest, and what
-won’t; tho’ for my own part, I never met with any meat but would do it
-in time, more or less. So by way of clapping a stopper I made bold to
-remind that time is short tho’ life is long, and thereby luffing slap
-up to my Nevy, “Bob,” says I, “what’s the variation of the compass?”
-So Master Bob turns it about a bit, and then says he, “Why, it’s one
-leg shorter than t’other.” Which is about as nigh it, Brother, as you
-are to Table Bay! And how it gave the Doctor a bad fit of coughing,
-which his wife caught of him as natural as if it had been the hooping
-sort&mdash;at last says she, “Maybe Master Robert has not progressed yet
-into navigation.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420">[Pg 420]</a></span> “Maybe not, Ma’am,” says I, “and so we’ll try on
-another tack&mdash;Nevy, what’s metaphysics?” “Brimstone and Treacle,”
-says Bob, as ready as gunpowder, and the lady looked as satisfied as
-Bob did&mdash;but the Doctor had another bad fit, and good reason why, for
-there’s no more physic in metaphysics than a baby might take in its
-pap. By this time we were going up stairs, but lay-to awhile alongside
-a garden pump on the landing, to have a yarn about dowsing glims,
-and fire guards, and going the rounds at night; and as dear Bob hung
-astarn, I yawed, and let fly at him again with “What’s religion?” “The
-colic on Sundays,” says he, as smart as you like; tho’ what he meant
-by colic the Old Gentleman knows. However both the Doctor and Madam
-pulled a pleasant face at him, and looked as pleased as if he had found
-out the longitude; but that was too fine weather to last, for thinks
-I, in course he can carry on a little further on that board, so says
-I, “What’s the main-top-gallant rule of Christianity?” “Six weeks at
-Christmas,” says he, as bold as brass from getting encouraged before.
-So you see, John, he don’t know his own persuasion. In course we were
-all at wry faces again; but the Doctor had the gumption to shove his
-out of a window, and sing out an order to nobody in the back yard. As
-for Madam, she shot ahead into the sleeping rooms, where I saw half
-a hundred of white dimity cots, two warming-pans, and nine clothes
-baskets&mdash;Master Robert’s berth among the rest. Next we bore away
-by a long passage to the kitchen again, where two rounds of boiled
-beef had been put to officer the quartern loaves, and so through the
-washery and pot-and-pannery into the garden ground, where I came in
-for as long a yarn about the wholesomeness of fresh vegetables and
-salads, as if the whole crew of youngsters had been on the books with
-the scurvy. From the cabbages we got to the flowerbeds; and says the
-Doctor,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421">[Pg 421]</a></span> “I don’t circumscribe, or circumvent, one or t’other; I don’t
-circumvent my pupils to scholastical works, but encourage perusing the
-book of Nature.”&mdash;“That’s very correct, then, Doctor,” said I, “and
-my own sentiment exactly. Nevy, what’s Natural Philosophy?”&mdash;“Keeping
-rabbits,” says Bob; which sounds likely enough, but it’s not the thing
-by sixty degrees. I can’t say but I felt the cats’-paws coming over my
-temper; but I kept it under till we fetched the paddock, to look at the
-cows; and that brought up another yarn about milk-dieting; and says
-Madam, “when summer comes, our Doctor is so good as to permit the young
-gentlemen to make his hay.”&mdash;“No doubt alive, Ma’am,” says I; “saves
-hands, and good fun too, eh, nevy?&mdash;What’s Agriculture?” However this
-time dear Bob chose to play sulky, and wouldn’t answer good or bad;
-whereby the Doctor crowds up, with a fresh question. “Now then, Master
-Robert,” says he pretty sharp, “I will ask you something you <i>do</i>
-know. What is Algebra,&mdash;Al&mdash;gebra?”&mdash;“Please Sir,” says Bob, “it’s a
-wild donkey all over stripes.”&mdash;“There’s a dear boy!” cries Madam, the
-more fool she; but old Darby looked as black as thunder at midnight.
-“I’m afraid,” says he, letting go the toplifts, as one may say, of his
-eyebrows; “I’m afraid there has been a little slackness here with the
-cat; but, by your leave, Sir, and so forth, I will investigate a little
-into it myself. Now Master Robert, take a pull at your mental tackle,
-for I’m going to overhaul your Mathematics:&mdash;How do you describe a
-triangle?”&mdash;“Please Sir,” says Bob, “it’s the thing that tingle-tangles
-to the big drum.” Well, there was the devil to pay again, and no pitch
-hot! Old Darby looked as if he meant either to drop down dead on the
-spot of apoplexy, or to murder dear Bob; he swelled and reddened up
-so about the wattles without hoisting out a word. For my own part,
-nevy as he was, I couldn’t help serving him out a back-handed slap
-of the head, and then I turned-to at the schoolmaster. “So, Mister
-Doctor,” says I,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422">[Pg 422]</a></span> “this is what you call a liberal education in your
-manifest?”&mdash;“Sir,” says he, looking as stiff as a corporal just made,
-“whatever your, some cursed long hard word may be, I cannot consider
-myself liable for the lagging astern of, I must say, the dullest sailor
-in my whole convoy.”&mdash;“Why, blood and thunder!” said I, for old Nick
-could not have helped it&mdash;“you told me that Bob, my nevy there, was the
-handiest and smartest of the whole kit!”&mdash;“That was <i>me</i>, Sir,” says
-the lady hauling in between us&mdash;“and then I only spoke as to temper,
-as Greek and Latin are beyond a female’s provinces”&mdash;which was true
-enough; so I felt bound to beg her pardon, which was granted: and
-we had smooth water again till we neared the school-room. Now then,
-thought I, look out for squalls, for my mind was made up to stand no
-nonsense from the petty officers, that is to say, gentlemen ushers. So
-I ranged<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423">[Pg 423]</a></span> up alongside the most mathematical looking one I could pick
-out, by way of having a bout with him at trigonometry; but he chose
-to be as shy, and deaf and dumb, as a Gibraltar monkey just grabbed.
-“With submission, my good Sir,” says the Doctor, putting in his oar,
-“Mr. Huckin may consider it a work of supereror-something, and a
-going beyond ourselves, to re-examine him after the very satisfactory
-certificates that satisfied <i>me</i> myself.”&mdash;“That’s to say,” says I,
-“in plain English, that I’m to get nothing but what I can screw out
-of my nevy?”&mdash;“My dear Sir,” says the Doctor, “you misconstruct me
-entirely&mdash;the whole of the juvenile pupils are open to candid scrutiny.
-Suppose we begin with the classics. Master Bush, Sir, you will English
-me <i>hic</i>, <i>hac</i>, <i>hoc</i>.”&mdash;“This, that, and t’other,” says Master Bush;
-no great shakes of an answer, I guess, but it seemed to serve for a
-come-off. Then came my turn, so I asked who was the discoverer of
-America? and may I never break biscuit again, if he didn’t say “Yankee
-Doodle!” Well, to cut off the end of a long yarn, this was as good as
-there was to be got out of the best of them. One told me that Guy Fox
-found out gunpowder; and another that a solar eclipse was along of the
-sun’s standing in its own light. What else I might have learned, that
-I never knew before, must be left over for a guess; for in the middle
-of the next ask, it was all hats aloft! and three cheers for a half
-holiday; but if I had any hand in begging it, may I die ashore in a dry
-ditch! However that was too much of a dog’s trick to be took quietly,
-so I prepared a broadside, with a volley of oaths to it, by way of
-small arms; but before I could well bring it to bear, the Doctor hauls
-out his watch, and says he, “It’s extremely bad luck, but there’s a
-voting this morning for a parish beadle, and I make a point not to let
-my private duties get to windward of my public ones.” So saying, with
-a half-and-half sort of a bow, to me, he cut and run; Madam getting
-athwart hawse so as to cover<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_424" id="Page_424">[Pg 424]</a></span> his getting off. In course it was no use
-to waste speech upon her; but I made bold to d&mdash;n the whole covey of
-undermasters, in the lump, as a set of the sharkingest, loggerheaded,
-flute-playing, skulking, lubberly sons of grinning weavers and tailors
-that ever broke bread. So the finish over all is, that I took my nevy
-away, traps and all; and not an hour too soon; and with Bob in tow
-I made Tom Pike’s, who was as glad to see his old messmate as I was
-to see him; and what’s more, when he heard the bit of a brush I had
-enjoyed, he informed me that Doctor Darby, LL.D., and what not, was all
-one and the same with Darby the shipchandler, that went to pieces down
-at Wapping. You see then, as the chaplain says, that all’s for the best
-either here or hereafter; and so no more, till Monday, when I shall
-bring my nevy Bob to you, to make what you will of him, which I hope
-will be as like a man as possible. If otherwise, I won’t promise not to
-change my name by act of parliament, and so be no relation to dear Bob,
-nor to you neither; and that’s the real mind of</p>
-
-<p class="right mright2"><span class="mright3">Your loving Brother,</span><br />
-B<span class="smaller">EN</span> C<span class="smaller">ARNABY</span>.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_424" name="i_424">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_424.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">RECRIMINATION.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_425" id="Page_425">[Pg 425]</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_425" name="i_425">
-   <img class="mtop3" src="images/i_425.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption">BLIND HOOKEY.</p>
-</div>
-
-<h2 class="nopad" id="A_RISE_AT_THE_FATHER_OF_ANGLING">A RISE AT THE FATHER
-OF ANGLING.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p>T<span class="smaller">HE</span> memory of Izaak Walton has hitherto floated down the stream of
-time without even a nibble at it; but, alas! where is the long line
-so pure and even that does not come sooner or later to have a weak
-length detected in it? The severest critic of Molière was an old
-woman; and now a censor of the same sex takes upon herself to tax the
-immortal work of our Piscator with holding out an evil temptation to
-the rising generation Instead of concurring in the general admiration
-of his fascinating pictures of fishing, she boldly asserts that the
-rod has been the spoiling of her child, and insists that in calling
-the Angler gentle and inoffensive, the Author was altogether<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_426" id="Page_426">[Pg 426]</a></span> wrong in
-his <i>dubbing</i>. To render her strictures more attractive she has thrown
-them into a poetical form; having probably learned by experience that
-a rhyme at the end of a line is a very taking bait to the generality
-of readers. Hark! how she rates the meek Palmer whom Winifred Jenkins
-would have called “an angle upon earth!”</p>
-
-<p class="center mtop2"><i>To Mr.</i> I<span class="smaller">ZAAK</span>
-W<span class="smaller">ALTON</span>, <i>at Mr.</i>
-M<span class="smaller">AJOR</span>’<span class="smaller">S</span> <i>the
-Bookseller’s in Fleet Street.</i></p>
-
-<div class="narrow">
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Mr. Walton, it’s harsh to say it, but as a Parent I can’t help wishing</div>
-      <div class="verse">You’d been hung before you publish’d your book, to set all the young people a fishing!</div>
-      <div class="verse">There’s my Robert, the trouble I’ve had with him it surpasses a mortal’s bearing,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And all thro’ those devilish angling works&mdash;the Lord forgive me for swearing!</div>
-      <div class="verse">I thought he were took with the Morbus one day, I did with his nasty angle!</div>
-      <div class="verse">For “oh dear,” says he, and burst out in a cry, “oh my gut is all got of a tangle!”</div>
-      <div class="verse">It’s a shame to teach a young boy such words&mdash;whose blood wouldn’t chill in their veins</div>
-      <div class="verse">To hear him, as I overheard him one day, a-talking of blowing out brains?<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a></div>
-      <div class="verse">And didn’t I quarrel with Sally the cook, and a precious scolding I give her,</div>
-      <div class="verse">“How dare you,” says I, “for to stench the whole house by keeping that stinking liver?”</div>
-      <div class="verse">’Twas enough to breed a fever, it was! they smelt it next door at the Bagots’,&mdash;</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_427" id="Page_427">[Pg 427]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">But it wasn’t breeding no fever&mdash;not it! ’twas my son a-breeding of maggots!</div>
-      <div class="verse">I declare that I couldn’t touch meat for a week, for it all seemed tainting and going,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And after turning my stomach so, they turned to blueflies, all buzzing and blowing;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Boys are nasty enough, goodness knows, of themselves, without putting live things in their craniums;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Well, what next? but he pots a whole cargo of worms along with my choice geraniums.</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_427" name="i_427">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_427.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“THE GREAT GLOBE ITSELF, YEA, ALL WHICH IT INHERIT,
-    SHALL DISSOLVE!”</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="narrow">
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">And another fine trick, tho’ it wasn’t found out, till the housemaid had given us warning,</div>
-      <div class="verse">He fished at the golden fish in the bowl, before we were up and down in the morning.</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_428" id="Page_428">[Pg 428]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">I’m sure it was lucky for Ellen, poor thing, that she’d got so attentive a lover.</div>
-      <div class="verse">As bring her fresh fish when the others deceas’d, which they did a dozen times over!</div>
-      <div class="verse">Then a whole new loaf was short! for I know, of course, when our bread goes faster,&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And I made a stir with the bill in my hand, and the man was sent off by his master;</div>
-      <div class="verse">But, oh dear, I thought I should sink thro’ the earth, with the weight of my own reproaches,</div>
-      <div class="verse">For my own pretty son had made away with the loaf, to make pastry to feed the roaches!</div>
-      <div class="verse">I vow I’ve suffered a martyrdom&mdash;with all sorts of frights and terrors surrounded!</div>
-      <div class="verse">For I never saw him go out of the doors but I thought he’d come home to me drownded.</div>
-      <div class="verse">And, sure enough, I set out one fine Monday to visit my married daughter,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And there he was standing at Sadler’s Wells, a-performing with real water.</div>
-      <div class="verse">It’s well he was off on the further side, for I’d have brain’d him else with my patten,</div>
-      <div class="verse">For I thought he was safe at school, the young wretch! a studying Greek and Latin,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And my ridicule basket he had got on his back, to carry his fishes and gentles;</div>
-      <div class="verse">With a belt I knew he’d made from the belt of his father’s regimentals&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Well, I poked his rods and lines in the fire, and his father gave him a birching,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But he’d gone too far to be easy cured of his love for chubbing and perching.</div>
-      <div class="verse">One night he never came home to tea, and altho’ it was dark and dripping,</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_429" id="Page_429">[Pg 429]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">His father set off to Wapping, poor man! for the boy had a turn for shipping;</div>
-      <div class="verse">As for me I set up, and I sobbed and I cried for all the world like a babby,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Till at twelve o’clock he rewards my fears with two gudging from Waltham Abbey!</div>
-      <div class="verse">And a pretty sore throat and fever he caught, that brought me a fortnight’s hard nussing,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Till I thought I should go to my grey-hair’d grave, worn out with the fretting and fussing;</div>
-      <div class="verse">But at last he was cur’d, and we did have hopes that the fishing was cured as well,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But no such luck! not a week went by before we’d have another such spell.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Tho’ he never had got a penny to spend, for such was our strict intentions,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Yet he was soon set up in tackle agin, for all boys have such quick inventions:</div>
-      <div class="verse">And I lost my Lady’s Own Pocket Book, in spite of all my hunting and poking,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Till I found it chuck full of tackles and hooks, and besides it had had a good soaking.</div>
-      <div class="verse">Then one Friday morning, I gets a summoning note from a sort of a law attorney,</div>
-      <div class="verse">For the boy had been trespassing people’s grounds while his father was gone a journey,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And I had to go and hush it all up by myself, in an office at Hatton Garden;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And to pay for the damage he’d done, to boot, and to beg some strange gentleman’s pardon.</div>
-      <div class="verse">And wasn’t he once fished out himself, and a man had to dive to find him,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And I saw him brought home with my motherly eyes and a mob of people behind him?</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_430" id="Page_430">[Pg 430]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">Yes, it took a full hour to rub him to life&mdash;whilst I was a-screaming and raving,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And a couple of guineas it cost us besides, to reward the humane man for his saving,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And didn’t Miss Crump leave us out of her will, all along of her taking dudgeon</div>
-      <div class="verse">At her favourite cat being chok’d, poor Puss, with a hook sow’d up in a gudgeon?</div>
-      <div class="verse">And old Brown complain’d that he pluck’d his live fowls, and not without show of reason,</div>
-      <div class="verse">For the cocks looked naked about necks and tails, and it wasn’t their moulting season;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And sure and surely, when we came to enquire, there was cause for their screeching and cackles,</div>
-      <div class="verse">For the mischief confess’d he had picked them a bit, for I think he called them the hackles.</div>
-      <div class="verse">A pretty tussle we had about that! but as if it warn’t picking enough,</div>
-      <div class="verse">When the winter comes on, to the muff-box I goes, just to shake out my sable muff&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">“O mercy!” thinks I, “there’s the moth in the house!” for the fur was all gone in patches;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And then at Ellen’s chinchilly I look, and its state of destruction just matches&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">But it wasn’t no moth, Mr. Walton, but flies&mdash;sham flies to go trolling and trouting,</div>
-      <div class="verse">For his father’s great coat was all safe and sound, and that first set me a-doubting.</div>
-      <div class="verse">A plague, say I, on all rods and lines, and on young or old watery danglers!</div>
-      <div class="verse">And after all that you’ll talk of such stuff as no harm in the world about anglers!</div>
-      <div class="verse">And when all is done, all our worry and fuss, why, we’ve never had nothing worth dishing;</div>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_431" id="Page_431">[Pg 431]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">So you see, Mister Walton, no good comes at last of your famous book about fishing.</div>
-      <div class="verse">As for Robert’s, I burnt it a twelvemonth ago; but it turned up too late to be lucky,</div>
-      <div class="verse">For he’d got it by heart, as I found to the cost of</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class="right mright2"><span class="mright3">Your servant,</span><br />
-J<span class="smaller">ANE</span> E<span class="smaller">LIZABETH</span> S<span class="smaller">TUCKEY</span>.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_431" name="i_431">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_431.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">THERE’S NEVER A WHALE WITHOUT A BLUBBER.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnotes">
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> Chewing and spitting out bullock’s brains into the water
-for ground-bait is called <i>blowing of brains</i>. Salter’s Angler’s Guide.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="RIGHT_AND_WRONG">RIGHT AND WRONG.<br />
-<span class="s6">A SKETCH AT SEA.</span></h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p>T<span class="smaller">HE</span> Rights of Man,&mdash;whether abstract or real, divine or vulgar, vested
-or contested, civil or uncivil, common or uncommon&mdash;have been so fully
-and so frequently discussed, that one would suppose there was nothing
-new to be felt or expressed on the subject. I was agreeably surprised,
-therefore, during a late passage from Ireland, to hear the rights of
-an individual asserted in so very novel a manner as to seem worthy of
-record. The injured party was an involuntary fellow-passenger; and
-the first glance at him as he leisurely ascended the cabin stairs,
-bespoke<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_432" id="Page_432">[Pg 432]</a></span> him an original. His face, figure, dress, gait, ad gestures,
-were all more or less eccentric; yet, without any apparent affectation
-of singularity. His manner was perfectly earnest and business-like,
-though quaint. On reaching the deck, his first movement was towards the
-gangway, but a moment sufficed to acquaint him with the state of the
-case. The letter-bags having been detained an hour beyond the usual
-time of departure, the steam had been put on at a gallop, and Her
-Majesty’s mail packet the Guebre had already accomplished some hundred
-fathoms of her course. This untoward event, however, seemed rather
-to surprise than annoy our Original, who quietly stepped up to the
-Captain, with the air of demanding what was merely a matter of course:</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_433" id="Page_433">[Pg 433]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“Hollo, Skipper! Off she goes, eh? But you must turn about, my boy, and
-let me get out.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_432" name="i_432">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_432.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“HE’S A-GOING TO TAKE A TOWER.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>“Let you get out!” echoed the Skipper, and again repeating it, with
-what the musicians call a staccato&mdash;“Let&mdash;you&mdash;get&mdash;out!”</p>
-
-<p>“Exactly so. I’m going ashore.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’m rather afraid you are <i>not</i>, Sir,” said the Skipper, looking
-decidedly serious, “unless you allude to the other side!”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_433" name="i_433">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_433.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">AN AQUATIC TRIP.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>“The other side!” exclaimed the Oddity, involuntarily turning towards
-England. “Poo! poo! nonsense, man,&mdash;I only came to look at your
-accommodations. I’m not going across with you&mdash;I’m not, upon my word!”</p>
-
-<p>“I must beg your pardon, Sir;” said the Captain, quite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_434" id="Page_434">[Pg 434]</a></span> solemnly. “But
-it is my firm opinion that you <i>are</i> ‘going across.’”</p>
-
-<p>“Poo, poo! all gammon.&mdash;I till you I am going back to Dublin.”</p>
-
-<p>“Upon my soul, then,” said the Skipper, rather briskly, “you must swim
-back like a grampus, or borrow a pair of wings from the gulls.”</p>
-
-<p>The man at the helm grinned his broadest at what he thought a good joke
-of his officer’s&mdash;while the Original turned sharply round, parodied a
-hyena’s laugh at the fellow, and then returned to the charge.</p>
-
-<p>“Come, come, Skipper&mdash;it’s quite as far out as I care for&mdash;if you want
-to treat me to a sail!”</p>
-
-<p>“Treat you to a sail!” roared the indignant officer. “Zounds! Sir, I’m
-in earnest&mdash;as much in earnest as ever I was in my life.”</p>
-
-<p>“So much the better,” answered the Original. “<i>I’m</i> not joking myself,
-and I have no right to be joked upon.”</p>
-
-<p>“Joke or no joke,” said the Captain&mdash;“all I know is this. The mail bags
-are on board&mdash;and it’s more than my post is worth to put back.”</p>
-
-<p>“Eh? What? How?” exclaimed the Oddity, with a sort of nervous dance.
-“You astonish me! Do&mdash;you&mdash;really&mdash;mean to say&mdash;I’m obligated to
-go&mdash;whether I’ve a right or not?”</p>
-
-<p>“I do indeed, Sir&mdash;I’m sorry for it, but it can’t be helped. My orders
-are positive. The moment the mail is on board I must cast off.”</p>
-
-<p>“Indeed!&mdash;well&mdash;but you know&mdash;why, that’s <i>your</i> duty, not <i>mine</i>. <i>I</i>
-have no right to be cast off! I’ve no right to be here at all. I’ve no
-right to be anywhere&mdash;except in Merrion Square!”</p>
-
-<p>The Captain was bothered. He shrugged up his shoulders, then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_435" id="Page_435">[Pg 435]</a></span> gave a
-low whistle, then plunged his hands in his pockets&mdash;then gave a loud
-order to somebody, to do something, somewhere or other; and then began
-to walk short turns on the deck. His Captive, in the meantime, made
-hasty strides towards the stern, as if intending to leap overboard; but
-he suddenly stopped short, and took bewildered look at the receding
-coast. The original wrong was visibly increasing in length, breadth,
-and depth, every minute; and he again confronted the Captain.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_435" name="i_435">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_435.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">DEEP DISTRESS PRODUCED BY MACHINERY.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>“Well, Skipper&mdash;you’ve thought better of it&mdash;I’ve no right in the
-world, have I?&mdash;You will turn her round?”</p>
-
-<p>“Totally impossible, Sir&mdash;quite out of my power.”</p>
-
-<p>“Very well, very well, very well indeed!” the Original’s temper was
-getting up as well as the sea.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_436" id="Page_436">[Pg 436]</a></span> “But mind, Sir&mdash;I protest. I protest
-against <i>you</i>, Sir&mdash;and against the ship&mdash;and the ocean, Sir&mdash;and
-everything! I’m getting further and further out&mdash;but, remember, I’ve
-no <i>right</i>! You will take the consequences. I have no right to be
-kidnapped&mdash;ask the Crown lawyers, if you think fit!”</p>
-
-<p>After this denouncement, the Speaker began to pace up and down like
-the Captain, but at the opposite side of the deck. He was on the boil,
-however, as well as the engine,&mdash;and every time that he passed near
-the man whom he considered as his Sir Hudson Lowe, he gave vent to the
-inward feeling in a jerk of the head, accompanied by a short pig-like
-grunt. Now and then it broke out in words, but always the same four
-monosyllables, “This&mdash;is&mdash;too&mdash;bad”&mdash;with a most emphatic fall of the
-foot to each. At last it occurred to a stout pompous-looking personage
-to interpose as a mediator. He began by dilating on the immense
-commercial importance of a punctual delivery of letters&mdash;thence he
-insisted on the heavy responsibility of the Captain; with a promise
-of an early return packet from Holyhead&mdash;and he was entering into
-a congratulation of the fineness of the weather, when the Original
-thought it was time to cut him short.</p>
-
-<p>“My good Sir&mdash;you’ll excuse me. The case is nobody’s but my own. <i>You</i>
-are a regular passenger. You have a right to be in this packet&mdash;you
-have a right to go to Holyhead&mdash;or to Liverpool&mdash;or to Gibraltar,&mdash;or
-to the world’s end&mdash;<i>if&mdash;you&mdash;like</i>. But <i>I</i> choose to be in Dublin.
-What right have I to be here then? Not&mdash;one&mdash;atom! I’ve no right to
-be in this vessel&mdash;and the Captain there knows it. I’ve no right
-(stamping) to be on this deck! I have no more right to be tossing at
-sea (waving his arms up and down) than the Pigeon House!”</p>
-
-<p>“It is a very unpleasant situation, I allow, Sir,” said the Captain
-to the stout Passenger.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_437" id="Page_437">[Pg 437]</a></span> “But, as I have told the gentleman, my hands
-are tied. I can do nothing&mdash;though nobody is more sorry for his
-inconvenience.”</p>
-
-<p>“Inconvenience be hanged!” exclaimed the Oddity, in a passion at last.
-“It is <span class="smaller">NO</span> inconvenience, Sir! Not&mdash;the&mdash;smallest. But that
-makes no difference as to my being here. It’s that&mdash;and that alone,&mdash;I
-dispute all right to!”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_437" name="i_437">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_437.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">SEA RIDDLE. “DO YOU GIVE IT UP?”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>“Well, but my dear, good Sir,” expostulated the pompous man; “admitting
-the justice of your premises, the hardship is confessedly without
-remedy.”</p>
-
-<p>“To be sure it is,” said the Captain, “every inch of it. All I can say
-is, that the gentleman’s passage shall be no expense to him!”</p>
-
-<p>“Thankee&mdash;of <i>course</i> not,” said the Original with a sneer.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_438" id="Page_438">[Pg 438]</a></span> “I’ve no
-right to put my hand in my pocket! Not that I mind expense. But it’s
-my right I stand up for, and I defy you both to prove that I have any
-right&mdash;or any shadow of a right&mdash;to be in your company! I’ll tell you
-what, Skipper”&mdash;but before he could finish the sentence, he turned
-suddenly pale, made a most grotesque wry face, and rushed forward to
-the bow of the vessel. The Captain exchanged a significant smile with
-the stout gentleman; but before they had quite spoken their minds of
-the absent character, he came scrambling back to the binnacle, upon
-which he rested with both hands, while he thrust his working visage
-within a foot of the skipper’s face.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_438" name="i_438">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_438.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“CHARMING SPOTS ABOUT THIS PART OF THE RIVER.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_439" id="Page_439">[Pg 439]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“There, Skipper!&mdash;now, Mr. What d’ye call&mdash;What do you both say to
-<i>that</i>? What right have I to be sick&mdash;as sick as a dog? I’ve no right
-to be squeamish! I’m not a passenger. I’ve no right to go tumbling
-over ropes and pails and what not to the ship’s head!”</p>
-
-<p>“But my good Sir,”&mdash;began the pompous man.</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t Sir me, Sir! <i>You</i> took your own passage. You have a <i>right</i> to
-be sick&mdash;You’ve a right to go to the side every five minutes&mdash;you’ve a
-right to <span class="smaller">DIE</span> of it! But it’s the reverse with me&mdash;I have no
-right of the sort!”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_439" name="i_439">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_439.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“WHAT RIGHT HAVE YOU IN MY STEEL TRAP?”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>“O certainly not, Sir,” said the pomposity, offended in his turn. “You
-are indubitably the best judge of your own privileges. I only beg to be
-allowed to remark, that where I felt I had so little right, I should
-hesitate to intrude myself.” So saying, he bowed very formally, and
-commenced his retreat to the cabin, while the Skipper pretended to
-examine the compass very minutely. In fact our Original had met with
-a chokepear. The fat man’s answer was too much for him, being framed
-on a principle clean contrary to his own peculiar system of logic. The
-more he tried to unravel its meaning, the more it got entangled. He
-didn’t like it, without knowing why; and he quite disagreed with it,
-though ignorant of its purport. He looked up at the funnel&mdash;and at
-the flag&mdash;and at the deck,&mdash;and down the companion stairs,&mdash;and then
-he wound up all by a long shake of his head, as mysterious as Lord
-Burleigh’s, at the as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_440" id="Page_440">[Pg 440]</a></span>tonished man at the wheel. His mind seemed made
-up. He buttoned his coat up to the very chin, as if to secure himself
-to himself, and never opened his lips again till the vessel touched the
-quay at Holyhead. The Captain then attempted a final apology&mdash;but it
-was interrupted in the middle.</p>
-
-<p>“Enough said, Sir&mdash;quite enough. If you’ve <i>only</i> done your duty,
-you’ve no right to beg pardon&mdash;and I’ve no right to ask it. All I mean
-to say is, here am I in Holyhead instead of Dublin. I don’t care what
-that fat fellow says&mdash;who don’t understand his own rights. I stick to
-all I said before. I have no right to be up in the Moon, have I? Of
-course not&mdash;and I’ve no more right to stand on this present quay, than
-I have to be up in the Moon!”</p>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="PATRONAGE">PATRONAGE.</h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p>T<span class="smaller">HE</span> authenticity of the following letter will, probably, be disputed.
-The system of patronage to which it refers, is one very likely to shock
-the prejudices of serious sober-minded persons, who will naturally
-refuse to credit such practical anachronisms as the superannuation of
-sucklings. Goldsmith, it is true, has mentioned certain Fortunatuses
-as being born with silver ladles in their mouths; but it would be
-easier to suppose a child thus endowed with a whole service of plate
-than to fancy one invested with a service of years. The most powerful
-imagination would be puzzled to reconcile an Ex-Speakership with an
-Infant untaught to lisp; or to recognise a retired Bow-street runner<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_441" id="Page_441">[Pg 441]</a></span>
-in a nursling unable to walk. The existence of such very advanced
-posts for the Infantry is, however, affirmed; but with what truth,
-from my total want of political experience, I am unable to judge. Mr.
-Wordsworth, indeed, who says that “the child is father of the man,”
-seems to aim a quiz at the practice; and possibly the nautical phrase
-of “getting a good <i>birth</i>,” may refer to such prosperous nativities.
-For the rest, grown gentlemen have unquestionably been thrust,
-sometimes, into public niches to which they were as ill adapted as
-Mr. D.; the measures taken by Patrons not leading invariably, like
-Stultz’s, to admirable fits. But the Lady waits to speak her mind.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_440" name="i_440">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_440.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">JACK PUDDING.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="correspondence">
-
-<p class="center">(C<span class="smaller">OPY</span>).</p>
-
-<p class="center mbot1"><i>To the Right Honourable</i>
-L<span class="smaller">ORD</span> V<span class="smaller">ISCOUNT</span> ****,
-<i>&amp;c., &amp;c., &amp;c., Whitehall.</i></p>
-
-<p class="p0">M<span class="smaller">AY IT PLEASE YOUR</span>
-L<span class="smaller">ORDSHIP</span>,</p>
-
-<p class="mleft3">I humbly beg a thousand pardons and apologies for so great a liberty,
-and taking up time so valuable to the nation with the present
-application. Nothing short of absolute necessity could compel to such
-a course; but I make bold to say, a case of greater hardship never had
-the honour to be laid before official eyes. My poor husband, however,
-is totally unaware of my writing; as he would certainly forbid any such
-epistolary step, whether on my part or his own; though in point of
-fact the shattered state of his nerves is such as to preclude putting
-pen to paper if ever so inclined. But as a wife and a mother, it would
-not become me to preserve silence, with my husband perishing by inches
-before my eyes; and particularly when a nobleman of your Lordship’s
-rank would be sure to sympathise for an unfortunate gentleman, of birth
-and breeding, that after waiting above forty odd years for his rights,
-has only come at last into a public post that must, and will be his
-death!</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_442" name="i_442">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_442.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“ONE BLACK BALL EXCLUDES.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="correspondence">
-
-<p>To favour with the particulars, my husband has the honour to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_442" id="Page_442">[Pg 442]</a></span> be
-related very distantly to the Peerage; and as Your Lordship knows, it
-is the privilege of Aristocracy to provide for all their connexions by
-comfortable public situations, which are sometimes enjoyed very early
-in life. To such Mr. D. had a hereditary right from his cradle, for
-his noble relative the Duke of&mdash;&mdash;, was so condescending as to stand
-sponsor by proxy; and instead of the usual spoons, or a silver mug,
-made a promise to the Infant of some office suited to its tender age;
-for instance a superannuation, or the like, where there is nothing to
-do, but the salary to receive. In point of fact, the making the Baby
-a retired King’s Messenger was verbally undertaken at the font: but
-before the child could come into office His Grace unfortunately went
-out of power, by dying of apoplexy, leaving nothing but a promise,
-which a new ministry was unjust and ungrateful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_443" id="Page_443">[Pg 443]</a></span> enough not to make
-good. In this shocking manner, Your Lordship, was my husband thrown
-upon the world, without proper provision according to his station and
-prospects, and was degraded to the necessity of his own exertions for
-support, till his fortieth year, when the new Duke thought proper to
-stir in his behalf. The truth is, a severe illness had left Mr. D.’s
-mind and nerves in such a pitiful shattered state, as to make him unfit
-for any business whatever, except public affairs; and accordingly
-it became the duty of his friends to procure him some post under
-government. So a proper application was made to his Grace, and through
-his influence and the fortunate circumstance of an election at the
-time, Mr. D. was appointed to the dreadful situation he at present
-enjoys. Of course we entirely acquit His Grace, who never set eyes on
-my husband in his life, and therefore could not be expected to know
-the precise state of his constitution; but I appeal to Your Lordship,
-whether it was proper patronage for a man shattered in mind and nerves,
-and subject to tremors, and palpitations, and bodily shocks of all
-sorts, to be made a Superintendent of Powder-Mills, with the condition
-of living attached to the works?</p>
-
-<p>For my own part, Your Lordship, I looked on the Duke’s letter of
-congratulations as neither more nor less than my poor husband’s
-death-warrant. Indeed he was so dreadfully alarmed himself, as to be
-quite distressing to witness. He did nothing, the whole afternoon,
-but walk up and down the room, shaking his head at himself in the
-looking-glass, or looking up at the ceiling, and muttering, as if he
-was already exploding sky high along with the Mills. But a refusal
-was out of the question, as it would have afforded his Grace too good
-an excuse for neglecting our interests for the future. To aggravate
-the case, the very day after our taking possession, there was what is
-called a blow at the works, and though so trifling as only to carry a
-roof off a shed, it struck a cord on Mr. D.’s nerves that has never
-done<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_444" id="Page_444">[Pg 444]</a></span> vibrating ever since. I do not exaggerate to say, that if he had
-been struck with the palsy and St. Vitus, both at once, he could not
-have showed more corporeal agitation. He trembled in every limb like an
-aspen tree; while his eyes rolled, and his head went from side to side,
-like the China Mandarin’s; besides scouring up and down stairs, and
-rushing out of doors and in again, and trying all the chairs but could
-not sit any where, and stamping, and muttering, and dancing about, till
-I really expected he would scramble up the walls of the room, and fly
-across the ceiling, like our tortoiseshell cat in her fits. If I lived
-to Methusalem, Your Lordship, I should never forget it! Unluckily,
-being new to his office, a mistaken notion of duty possessed him that
-he ought not to quit the spot; indeed he solemnly declared, that if a
-blow was to take place in his absence, he would rather commit his own
-suicide than face the report of it in the newspapers, which had already
-indulged in some seditious sneers at his appointment. All that could be
-done, therefore, was to pack off Lucy, and Emily and Eliza, on week’s
-visits among friends; myself remaining behind, as a wife’s proper post,
-near my poor husband; but on the discomfortable condition of keeping
-under ground in the cellar, because gunpowder in convulsions always
-blasts upwards. What my feelings were, as we are troubled with rats,
-Your Lordship may suppose; particularly when Mr. D. was officially
-called upon to inspect the damage; and never shall I forget his gashly
-appearance when he returned from his awful task! He was literally as
-white as a sheet; and totally incapable to get out a word, till he had
-swallowed three whole glasses of brandy! That settled his reason,&mdash;but
-it was only to tell me that lie had scraped and grazed the skin off
-every nubble of his back-bone, by a bad fall from a ladder, which he
-had attempted to come down in wooden safety shoes. Such, Your Lordship,
-was our miserable day; and it brought as wretched a night. Bed would
-not be heard<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_445" id="Page_445">[Pg 445]</a></span> of&mdash;and we set up in two easy chairs, shuddering with
-fright and cold, being December, and every door and window thrown wide
-open, to give a thorough vent through the house, in case of another
-shock. For Mr. D. was unfortunately possessed that one blow always
-leads to another; and what with fancying flying sparks, for it was
-starlight, and sniffing fire, he had worked himself up, before morning,
-into a high fever and a light head. The nearest medical man was obliged
-to be called in&mdash;and he had to give frightful doses of laudanum before
-Mr. D.’s nerves could be lulled into a startlish sort of doze;&mdash;and at
-waking, he was ordered to drink the strongest stimuluses; as indeed are
-in use to the present time. But this continual brandy, brandy, brandy,
-as Your Lordship knows, is a dreadful remedy; though, as my poor
-husband says, he cannot fill up his place without its help. At times
-I could almost believe, tho’ I would not breathe such a thing except
-to Your Lordship, that between the stimuluses, and the delirium, and
-the whole shock to the system, Mr. D. is a little beside his senses.
-The mad Doctors do say, that we are all, every one of us, crazy on a
-certain subject; and if such is the case, there can be no doubt that my
-husband’s weak point is explosions, the extravagance of his precautions
-making him an everlasting torment to himself as well as to all about
-him. Of course it is to his disadvantage, and magnifies his terrors,
-not to have been brought regularly up to the business; not that he
-receives much comfort from those who have, for he says custom and
-habit have made them so daring and hardened, that they would not mind
-playing at snap-dragon in the Magazine, or grinding their knives on the
-millstone that crushes the gunpowder into grains.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_446" name="i_446">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_446.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">BAT AND BAWL.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="correspondence">
-
-<p>Since the above accident we have had, thank goodness, no more blows;
-but, as Your Lordship is aware, a first impression will stick by us
-for all our lives to come. At the best of times, let my husband be
-reading, or writing, or eating his dinner, or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_446" id="Page_446">[Pg 446]</a></span> in bed, or what not, the
-exploding notion will come across him like a flash of lightning; as
-for instance last Friday was a week. Mr. and Mrs. Trotter had dropped
-in to tea; after which we had a rubber; and were all very comfortable,
-my husband and me just in the nine holes, when all of a sudden there
-was a fall of something and a scream. Up jumps Mr. D. of course,
-chucking his cards here, there, and every where, and calling a blow! a
-blow!&mdash;and as usual Emily and Lucy and Eliza and me rushed off to the
-coal-cellar, while Mrs. T. went into a fit. It is true, by the blessing
-of Providence, it was only the Housemaid letting her pail fall to
-screech at a bat; but what is very disagreeable, the Trotters are old
-friends, and have declined to set another foot within our doors. As for
-servants, it is next to impossible to keep one about me; and as Your
-Lordship’s own<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_447" id="Page_447">[Pg 447]</a></span> Lady will confirm, there is nothing more unpleasant to
-a Mistress of a House than to be continually changing. But nine out
-of ten prefer giving warning, to attending to so many punctiliums as
-are laid down; and those that are willing to stay, break through so
-many of the rules, that I am obliged to discharge them, to prevent Mr.
-D. being ruffled by doing it himself. Besides it adds considerably to
-servants’ work, to have chimneys swept so often as once a week,&mdash;and
-moreover, Mr. D. insists on keeping all flints and steels, and tinder,
-and matches, in his own bed-room, so that the housemaid has to go
-to him every morning for her lights. He is just as particular about
-extinguishing at night; and I lost the best cook I ever had, through
-her sitting up in her bed-room to mend her stays, though she might have
-known Mr. D. would come in to put her out&mdash;all of which is extremely
-unpleasant, and to me in particular.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_448" name="i_448">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_448.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">PRESSURE FROM WITHOUT.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="correspondence">
-
-<p>These, Your Lordship, are serious domestic evils; and I wish I could
-say they were confined to the house. But the workmen at the Mills
-are so ungrateful as to hate my husband for the over care he obliges
-them to take of their own lives; and make no secret of wanting his
-removal, by trying to torment him into resignation. Not a day passes
-without squabbles about smoking, for Mr. D. is apt to sniff tobacco,
-and insists on searching pockets for pipes, which the labourers one and
-all decline; and besides scuffles, there have been several pay offs on
-the spot. The consequence is ill will and bad blood to their superior,
-and it is become a standing practical joke to play upon the family
-feelings and fears. I have twice suffered all the disagreeables of
-escaping from nothing at all in my night dress, exposed to rheumatism,
-and the natives of a low neighbourhood; indeed only last Sunday the
-fire bell was rung by nobody, and no wind at all to speak of. Another
-party at enmity is Doctor Worral and all his establishment; because Mr.
-D. felt it his public duty to have the Doctor up before a Justice, for
-allowing his Young<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_448" id="Page_448">[Pg 448]</a></span> Gentlemen to send up fire-balloons. We had one day
-of dreadful excitement on my husband’s part, through a wicked little
-wretch of a pupil flashing the sunshine into the Mill with a bit of
-looking-glass; and of course we are indebted for the Swing letters we
-receive to the same juvenile quarters. To make bad worse, Mr. D. takes
-them all for Gospel, and the extra watchings, and patrollings, and
-precautions, after getting a threatening notice, are enough to wear
-out all our hearts. As regards the School, I am ready to agree that it
-is too near the Works; and to tell the truth, I shake in my shoes as
-much as Mr. D., every fifth of November, at each squib and cracker that
-goes off. On the same score our own sons are an everlasting misery to
-us when they are at home; which they seldom are, poor fellows, on that
-account. But if there is one thing above another that boys delight<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_449" id="Page_449">[Pg 449]</a></span>
-to play with, it is gunpowder; and being at the very fountainhead,
-Your Lordship may conceive the constant care it is to prevent their
-getting at it, and what is worse, not always crowned with success.
-Indeed even more innocent playthings are obliged to be guarded against;
-for as their father says, “a little brat, just breeched, may strike
-light enough to blow up a whole neighbourhood, through only spinning a
-peg-tog in a paved yard.”</p>
-
-<p>Such, your Lordship, is our present melancholy state. I have not dwelt,
-as I might do, on expenses, such as the dresses that are spoiled in
-the coal-cellar; the paying months’ wages instead of warnings; nor
-the trays upon trays of glass and china that are chucked down, as the
-way the servants always empty their hands when making their escapes
-from my husband’s false alarms. Sometimes it’s a chair falls overhead;
-or the wind slams the back door; or a smell of burnt wood from the
-kitchen; or the ironing-blanket; or fat catched; or fall of soot; or
-a candle-snuff; or a smoky coal; or, as I have known before now, only
-the smell of the drains; with a hundred other little things that will
-spring up in families, take what care you will. I ought not to forget
-thunder-storms, which are another source of trouble; for, besides
-seeing a dozen fanciful flashes for one real one, it is the misfortune
-of Mr. D. not to put faith in conductors, or, to use his own words, “in
-Franklin, philosophy, and fiddlesticks,&mdash;and a birch rod as likely to
-frighten away lightning as an iron one.” In the meantime, through the
-constant frights and flurries, I begin to find my own nerves infected
-by bad example, and getting into startlish habits; and my daughter
-Lucy, who was always delicate, seems actually going into a poor low
-way. Agreeable society might do much to enliven our spirits; but my
-husband is become very shy of visitors, ever since Captain Gower was so
-inconsiderate as to walk in, one foggy night, with a lighted cigar in
-his mouth. In fact he quite sets his face against the male sex: for, if
-they do not smoke<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_450" id="Page_450">[Pg 450]</a></span> cigars, he says, and carry lucifers, they strut on
-their iron heels and flourish about with iron-pointed walking-sticks
-and umbrellas. All which, Your Lordship, is extremely hard on myself
-and daughters, who, like all young people, are fond of a little gaiety;
-but the very utmost they are allowed, is a single quadrille party at
-Christmas, and then they are all obliged to dance in list shoes.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_450" name="i_450">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_450.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">A SET-OFF IN ACCOUNT.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="correspondence">
-
-<p>I humbly trust to Your Lordship’s liberality, and goodness of heart, to
-view the particulars of the above melancholy statement with attentive
-consideration. As it may occur to inquire how we have suffered so
-long without complaining, I beg to inform Your Lordship, that, being
-such a time of profound peace, we have lived on from year to year in
-the hope that no more ammunition would be required; and consequently
-the place would be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_451" id="Page_451">[Pg 451]</a></span>come a comfortable sinecure. But it appears that
-Spain and Portugal, and other countries, have gone to war on condition
-of being supplied with gunpowder; and accordingly, to our bitter
-disappointment, the works are as vigorous as ever. Your Lordship will
-admit the hardship of such a cruel position to a man of Mr. D.’s very
-peculiar constitution; and I do hope and trust will also regard his
-interests with a favourable eye, in consideration of his long-standing
-claims upon the country. What his friends most desire for him is, some
-official situation,&mdash;of course with a sufficient income to support
-his consequence, and a numerous family,&mdash;but without any business
-attached to it, or only as much as might help to amuse his mind for
-one or two hours in the day. Such a removal, considering my husband’s
-unfitness for anything else, could occasion no sort of injury to the
-public service; particularly as his vacancy would be so easy to fill
-up. There are hundreds and thousands of land and sea officers on
-half pay, who have been used to popping, and banging, and blowing up
-rockets and bomb-shells, all their lives; and would, therefore, not
-object to the Powder Mills; especially as the salary is handsome, with
-a rent-free house and garden, coal and candles, and all the other
-little perquisites that belong to public posts. As regards ourselves
-on the contrary, any interest is preferable to the gunpowder interest;
-and I take upon myself to say, that Mr. D. would be most proud and
-happy to receive any favour from Your Lordship’s administration; as
-well as answering for his pursuing any line of political principles,
-conservative or unconservative, that might be chalked out. Any such act
-of patronage would command the eternal gratitude of Mr. D., self, and
-family; and, repeating a thousand apologies for thus addressing, I beg
-leave to remain</p>
-
-<p>Your Lordship’s most humble, obedient, and devoted servant,</p>
-
-<p class="right mright2 mbot2">L<span class="smaller">UCY</span> E<span class="smaller">MILY</span> D<span class="smaller">EXTER</span>.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_452" id="Page_452">[Pg 452]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>P.S.&mdash;Since writing the above, I am sorry to inform your Lordship, that
-we have had another little blow, and Mr. D.’s state is indescribable.
-He is more shaken than ever, and particularly through going all down
-the stairs in three jumps. He was sitting reading at the time, and, as
-he thinks, in his spectacles; but as they are not to be found, he is
-possessed that they have been driven into his head.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_452" name="i_452">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_452.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">LORD, HOW YOU MADE ME JUMP.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_453" name="i_453">
-   <img class="mtop3" src="images/i_453.jpg"
-      alt="Cat attracting hatchlings" /></a>
-</div>
-
-<h2 class="nopad" id="ANIMAL_MAGNETISM">ANIMAL MAGNETISM.</h2>
-
-<p class="s5 center">“Charlatan is rising in public favour, and has many <i>backers</i> who
-<i>book</i> him to win.”&mdash;<i>Sporting Intelligence.</i></p>
-
-<p>O<span class="smaller">F</span> all the signs of the times&mdash;considering them literally as
-<i>signs</i>, and the public literally as “a <i>public</i>”&mdash;there are none
-more remarkable than the Hahnemann’s Head,&mdash;the Crown and Compasses,
-devoted to Gall and Spurzheim’s entire,&mdash;and the Cock and Bull, that
-hangs out at the House of Call for Animal Magnetizers. The last
-concern, especially&mdash;a daring, glaring, flaring, gin-palace-like
-establishment&mdash;is a moral phenomenon.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_453" id="Page_453">[Pg 453]</a></span> That a tap dispensing a raw,
-heady, very unrectified article, should obtain any custom whatever,
-in a reputed genteel and well-lighted neighbourhood, seems quite
-impossible; yet such is the incomprehensible fact;&mdash;respectable
-parties, scientific men, and even physicians, in good practice in
-all other respects, have notoriously frequented the bar, from which
-they have issued again, walking all sorts of ways at once, or more
-frequently falling asleep on the steps, but still talking such
-“rambling skimble-skamble stuff” as would naturally be suggested by
-the incoherent visions of a drunken man. Such exhibitions, however are
-comparatively rare in London to their occurrence in Paris, which city
-has always taken the lead of our own capital in matters of novelty.
-It is asserted by a good authority, that at a French concern, in the
-same line, no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_454" id="Page_454">[Pg 454]</a></span> less than seventy-eight “medical men, and sixty-three
-other very intelligent individuals,” became thoroughly muzzy and
-mystified, and so completely lost all “<i>clairvoyance</i>” of their own,
-that they applied to an individual to read a book and a letter to
-them; to tell them the hour on their own watches; to mention the pips
-on the cards; and by way of putting the state of their “intuitive
-foresight” beyond question, they actually appealed to the <i>back</i>sight
-of a man who was sound asleep! A bout on so large a scale has not been
-attempted, hitherto, in the English metropolis; but as all fashions
-transplanted from Paris flourish vigorously in our soil, it is not
-improbable that we may yet see a Meeting of the College of Physi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_455" id="Page_455">[Pg 455]</a></span>cians
-rendered very how-come-you-so indeed by an excess of Mesmer’s
-“particular.” The influence of such an example could not fail to have
-a powerful influence on all classes; and a pernicious narcotic would
-come into general use; the notorious effect of which is to undermine
-the reason of its votaries, and rob them of their common senses. To
-avert such a national evil, surely demands the timely efforts of
-our philanthropists; and above all, of those persons who have set
-their faces against the Old Tom&mdash;not of Lincoln, but of London&mdash;and
-in their zeal for the public sobriety, aim at even converting the
-brewers’ kilderkins into pumpkins.&mdash;Seriously, might not the Temperance
-Societies extend the sphere of their operations by a whole hemisphere,
-and perhaps with equal advantage to mankind, by attacking mental
-dram-drinking, as well as the bodily tippling of ardent spirits? The
-bewildered rollings, reelings, and idiotic effusions of mere animal
-drunkenness can hardly be more degrading to rational human beings,
-than the crazy toddlings and twaddlings of a bemused mind, whether
-only maudlin with infinitesimal doses of quackery, or rampant to mad
-staggers with the <i>lush</i>ious compounds and Devil’s Elixirs of the
-Mesmerian Distillery. Take the wildest freaks of the most fuddled,
-muddled, bepuddled soaker,&mdash;such as “trying to light his pipe at
-a pump,”&mdash;attempting to wind up a plug with his watch-key,&mdash;or
-requesting, from a damp bed in the gutter, to be tucked in,&mdash;and are
-they a bit, or a whit, or a jot, or a what-not, more absurd, more
-extravagant, or more indicative of imbecility of reason, than the
-vagary of a somnambulist, gravely going through the back-gammon of
-reading Back’s Journal, or a back-number of the Retrospective Review,
-through the back of his head?</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_454" name="i_454">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_454.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">“I WAS TOLD I SHOULD FIND HERE SOME TRAP ROCKS!”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>In case the Great Water Companies alluded to should think proper to
-adopt the foregoing suggestions, the following genuine letters are
-placed very much at their service, as materials to be worked up into
-Tracts:&mdash;</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_456" id="Page_456">[Pg 456]</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="correspondence">
-
-<p class="center">(C<span class="smaller">OPY</span>.)</p>
-
-<p class="center mbot2"><i>To Mr. Robert</i> H<span class="smaller">OLLAND</span>,
-<i>Linen-Draper, No. 194, Tottenham Court Road, London.</i></p>
-
-<p class="mleft1">D<span class="smaller">EAR</span> B<span class="smaller">OB</span>,</p>
-
-<p>Hoping you are well, and well-doing, we have heard such wonderful
-accounts in our parts lately about animal magnetizing, without any
-clear notion what it is.</p>
-
-<p>My own notion is, it must be something new of my Lord
-Spenser’s&mdash;Althorp as was&mdash;who was always very curious about his beasts.</p>
-
-<p>Others do say the Duke of Bedford, with a fresh cattle show&mdash;nobody
-knows.</p>
-
-<p>Now you are just at the fountain-head to learn, and as most of us down
-here is more or less engaged in breeding stock, it would be a main
-thing to be put up to the secret at its first start.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_456" name="i_456">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_456.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">WRINGING OUT THE OLD YEAR.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="correspondence">
-
-<p>Also whether it is expensive to buy&mdash;and who found it out&mdash;and if
-likely to do away with oilcake and mangel-wurzel, and such like
-particulars.</p>
-
-<p>Praise be blest, we are all stout and hearty, except your poor aunt,
-who died three year ago. Which is all the news at present from,</p>
-
-<p class="right mright2"><span class="mright10">Dear Bob,</span><br />
-<span class="mright4">Your loving Uncle,</span><br />
-R<span class="smaller">EUBEN</span> O<span class="smaller">XENHAM</span>.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_457" id="Page_457">[Pg 457]</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="correspondence">
-
-<p class="center">(C<span class="smaller">OPY</span>.)</p>
-
-<p class="center mbot2"><i>To Mr. Reuben</i> O<span class="smaller">XENHAM</span>,
-<i>Grazier, Grasslands, near Lincolnshire.</i></p>
-
-<p class="mleft1">D<span class="smaller">EAR</span> U<span class="smaller">NCLE</span>,</p>
-
-<p>I was agreeably surprised by your breaking silence; for I had made up
-my mind you was a distrest farmer gone off swan hopping (excuse the
-joke) to Swan River, or to get settled among the Dutch boars and lions
-at the Cape of Good Hope. Thank heaven such is not the case; though
-damped with my dear aunt’s going off. I little thought, poor soul! the
-why and wherefore my goose three Christmases ago was the last! But we
-must all be cut off some day or other, which is a religious consolation
-for the remnants that are left behind.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_457" name="i_457">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_457.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">SWAN-HOPPING.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_458" id="Page_458">[Pg 458]</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="correspondence">
-
-<p>I have examined, as you desired, a sample of animal magnetism; which
-turns out to be the reverse of every thing you expect. Indeed such
-might have been anticipated by a little forethought on the subject.
-There is nothing to describe about animals to such as you, that deal
-in them of all qualities; but it is quite likely that you have forgot
-all about magnets, since the days of your youth. But perhaps, when
-they are named to you, your memory may serve to recollect little bone
-boxes, at sixpence a piece, with a blackamoor’s head atop, and a
-little bar of philosopher’s steel inside, that points out the north,
-and sets a needle dancing like mad. It likewise picks up emery, and
-sticks fast to the blade of a knife. But that is all its powers are
-competent to&mdash;and of course on too small a scale to have any dancing,
-or lifting, or sticking effect on objects so big as bullocks, or even
-a pig, or a sheep. Accordingly, you will not be surprised to hear that
-animal magnetism has nothing at all to do with beasts or load-stones
-either, but is all of a piece with juggling, quacksalving, and
-mountebanking, such as universal physic, spitting Coventry ribbons,
-tumbling, and posturing, thimble-rig, and the like fabrics. One of the
-principal tricks is sending people off to sleep against their wills;
-not so new a trick though, but it has been heard of years and years
-ago at Bow Street; and easy enough to perform any day, with a pint of
-porter,&mdash;provided one was rogue enough to want to hocus-pocus the money
-out of other people’s pockets into one’s own. To come to the point,
-there’s an outlandish Count set up in it at the west end; and no doubt
-will realise a fortune. He has his carriage-people for customers, as
-well as Howel and James; indeed, I have heard of the Somebodies as well
-as Nobodies running after common fortune-tellers’ tales, and not too
-high to be above going up into their back garrets. Some say he is a
-Frenchman, others say a German; but the last for choice, for he smokes
-enough to drive all the rats out of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_459" id="Page_459">[Pg 459]</a></span> neighbourhood. Besides, the
-Germans, I’m told, will believe anything, provided it’s impossible;
-which is some excuse for their wanting other people to give the same
-long credits; and besides, Germans as well as French, and indeed all
-other foreigners, for that matter, though ever such honest people in
-the main; yet when they <i>do</i> turn rogues at English expense, they
-invariably go more than the whole hog, namely, boar, sow, sucking
-pigs and all. So I determined to go wide awake, and to keep my eyes
-open, too, by not taking bit or sup in the house, if offered ever
-so politely. It is surely not showing disrespect to hospitality, to
-object to hocussed victuals and drinks. I might have spared my fears,
-however; for there was nothing provided but the ledgerdemain, &amp;c., and
-that was charged a guinea for, which you can repay at convenience. I
-preferred to see somebody else conjured before me; so another patient
-was taken first. She was a fine strapping young woman enough, dressed
-half and half between a fine lady and a servantmaid; but as sly-looking
-a baggage as you could select from an assortment of gypseys; and unless
-her face belied her, quite capable of scratching a Cock Lane ghost.
-Indeed something came across me that I had seen her before; and if
-memory don’t deceive, it was at some private theatricals contrary to
-law. For certain she could keep her countenance; for if the outlandish
-figure of a doctor, with his queer faces, had postured, and pawed,
-and poked towards <i>me</i>, with his fingers, for all the world like the
-old game of “My grandmother sends you a staff, and you’re neither to
-smile nor to laugh,” as he did to her, I should have bursted, to a
-dead certainty; instead of going off, as she did, into an easy sleep.
-As soon as she was sound, the Count turned round to me and the company
-with his broken English&mdash;“Ladies and gentlemens,” says he, “look here
-at dis yoong maidens, Mizz Charlot Ann Elizabet Martin”&mdash;for that is
-his way of talking.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_460" id="Page_460">[Pg 460]</a></span> “Wid my magnetismuses I tro her into von state of
-sombamboozleism”&mdash;or something to that effect. “Mizz Charlot Ann, dou
-art a slip.” “As fast as a church, Mister Count,” says she, talking
-and hearing as easy as broad awake. “Ferry goot,” says he. “Now I take
-dis boke,&mdash;Missis Glasse Cokery,&mdash;and I shall make de maidens read
-som little of him wid her back. Dere he is bytween her sholders. Mizz
-Charlot Ann, what you see now mit your eyes turned de wrong way for to
-look?” “Why, then,” says she, “Mr. Count, I see quite plain a T, and
-an O. Then comes R, and O, and S, and T&mdash;and the next word is H, and
-A, and I, and R.” “Ferry goot,” tries the Count over again. “Dat is
-to rost de hare. Ladies and gentlemens, you all here? As Gott is my
-shudge, so is here in de boke. Now den, Mizz Charlot Ann, vons more.
-Vot you taste in your mouse?” “Why, then, Master,” says Charlotte Ann,
-“as sure as fate, I taste sweet herbs chopped up small!” “Ferry goot
-indeed!&mdash;bot what mor by sides de sweet herrubs?” “Why,” says she,
-“it’s a relish of salt, and pepper, and mace,&mdash;and, let me see&mdash;there’s
-a flavour of currant jelly.” “Besser and besser!” cries the Count.
-“Ladies and gentlemens, are not dese voonderfools? You shall see every
-wart of it in de print. Mizz Charlot Ann, vot you feel now?” “Lawk a
-mercy, Mister Count,” says she, “there’s a sort of stuffy feel, so
-there is, in my inside!” “Yaw! like van fool belly! Ferry goot! Now you
-feel vot?” “Feel! Mister Count?” says she&mdash;“why I don’t feel nothing at
-all&mdash;the stuffiness is gone clean away!” “Yaw, my shild!” says he. “Dat
-is by cause I take avay de cokery boke from your two sholders. Ladies
-and gentlemens, dese is grand powers of magnetismus! Ach himmel! As
-Hamlet say, dere is more in our philosofies dan dere is in de heaven or
-de earth! Our mutter Nature is so fond to hide her face! Bot von adept,
-so as me, can lift up a whale!”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_461" name="i_461">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_461.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">SLEEPING DRAUGHTS.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="correspondence">
-
-<p>To shorten a long story, the sombamboosleism lasted for two<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_461" id="Page_461">[Pg 461]</a></span> hours;
-while Miss Charlot Ann told fortunes in her sleep, and named people’s
-inward complaints, and prescribed for them with her eyes shut. Mine
-was dropsy; and I was to take antimonious wine three times a-day, to
-throw the water off my stomach. So, if you like to ask your apothecary,
-or the parish doctor, they will be able to tell you whether it looks
-like proper practice or the reverse. For my own part, I mean to
-suspend myself till I feel more symptoms; and in the meantime I have
-experimented on myself so far as to try behind my back with the Ready
-Reckoner. But I could not even see the book, much less make out a
-figure. To be sure I was broad awake, but it stands to reason that the
-circumstance only gave the better chance in its favour&mdash;at least it
-has always been reckoned so with a book held the proper natural way.
-I was the more particular with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_462" id="Page_462">[Pg 462]</a></span> book-work, because it looked like
-the master-key to let you into the whole house:&mdash;for no doubt, if you
-can do <i>that</i> trick, you can do all the rest, and have a hare dressed
-between your shoulders as easily as a blister. But to my mind it is all
-sham Abraham; or the little boys that go every day with whole satchels
-full of books at their backs would know rather more about them than
-they do generally at leaving off school.</p>
-
-<p>And now, Uncle, I have explained to you all about Animal Magnetism;
-and, says you, there are many things that come by names they have no
-right to, without going to Scotland, where you know they call a pitcher
-a pig. So it is very lucky on the whole, that you wrote to me, instead
-of posting up to London on a fool’s errand,&mdash;as did a respectable
-Lancashire grazing gentleman, the other day, in the newspapers, who
-was hoaxed all the way up to town, by a false notion that Animal
-Magnifying, as he called it, was some new, cheap, and quick way of
-fatting cattle. It will maybe turn out quite as deceitful an article
-as to its other qualities; and in that case, if I had the luck to be
-a magistrate, I would cold pig the sleeping partners with Cold Bath
-Fields and send off the active ones, to take a walk at a cart’s tail,
-with something they could feel, if they could not read it, on their
-backs and shoulders. That’s how I would measure out the law, if I
-was Lord Chief Justice. In which sentiments I conclude, with love
-to yourself, and all my cousins, if I have any living&mdash;with my best
-condolences for my poor late Aunt. As to business, I have only broken
-twice as yet; which is doing pretty well, considering the hard times
-and the state of trade. Wishing you the like prosperity, with health,
-and every other blessing, I remain, dear Uncle,</p>
-
-<p class="right mright2"><span class="mright3">Your affectionate nephew,</span><br />
-R<span class="smaller">OBERT</span> H<span class="smaller">OLLAND</span>.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_463" id="Page_463">[Pg 463]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>P.S. Since the foregoing, I have discussed the subject with a
-neighbour, a Veterany Surgeon; and he says it is all very well for the
-old men and women Physicians, but won’t go down with the Horse Doctors.
-“However,” says he, “if you are bent on trying it, I will give you a
-receipt. Take a two-year old full blood colt, half broke, or not broke
-at all&mdash;if vicious, so much the better. Shoe him behind with a couple
-of stout horse-shoe loadstones, and then stand convenient, and take
-a tug or two at his tail, till you feel him begin to operate. That’s
-Animal Magnetism, and will do you quite as much good or harm as the
-other new kick, and save you all the fees besides.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_463" name="i_463">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_463.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">SOMNAMBULISM.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_464" id="Page_464">[Pg 464]</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_464" name="i_464">
-   <img class="mtop3" src="images/i_464.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption">A MAIDEN ASSLEP.</p>
-</div>
-
-<h2 class="nopad" id="THE_FORLORN_SHEPHERDS_COMPLAINT">THE FORLORN
-SHEPHERD’S COMPLAINT.<br />
-
-<span class="s6">AN UNPUBLISHED POEM, FROM SIDNEY.</span></h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<p>I<span class="smaller">T</span> may be necessary to bespeak the indulgent consideration of the
-reader, for the appearance of the following Curiosity in such a work.
-The truth is, the pages of the Comic Annual naturally present to me
-the most obvious means of making the Poem known; betides, as it were,
-offering personal security for my own belief in its authenticity.
-And, considering my literary credit as so pledged, I do not hesitate
-to affirm that I think the effusion in question may confidently be
-referred to Sidney: and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_465" id="Page_465">[Pg 465]</a></span> even&mdash;on the internal evidence of its pastoral
-character&mdash;to the Arcadia. The verses have never till now appeared in
-print. The lover of Old English Poetry would vainly hunt for it in any
-edition extant of the works of Sir Philip; and, probably, the family
-records and remains at Penshurst might be searched to as little purpose
-for a copy in MS. From the extreme quaintness of the original, which
-would have required the help of a glossary to render it generally
-intelligible, I have thought it advisable to translate many of the
-phrases into more current language; but scrupulously preserving the
-<i>sense</i> of the text. Enough of the peculiar style, however, still
-remains, to aid in forming a judgment of the author’s æra. As for the
-apparent incongruity of the double vocation ascribed to the tuneful
-Swain in the Poem, besides abundant classical evidence that the
-Corydons of ancient times were often, also, heroes, or warriors, or
-adventurers, we have the positive contemporary testimony of modern
-travellers, that in those very pastures where the scene is laid, it
-is at this day the practice to entrust the charge of the flocks to
-personages who have formerly been engaged in the same perilous career
-as the “Forlorn Shepherd.” His lament, it will be seen, is full of
-regrets and stealing tears for the stirring times of Auld Lang Syne.</p>
-
-<p class="s5 center mtop2">THE FORLORN SHEPHERD’S COMPLAINT.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Vell! Here I am&mdash;no Matter how it suits,</div>
-      <div class="verse">A-keeping Company with them dumb Brutes,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Old Park vos no bad Judge&mdash;confound his vig!</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of vot vood break the Sperrit of a Prig!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“The like of Me, to come to New Sow Wales</div>
-      <div class="verse">To go a-tagging arter Vethers’ Tails</div>
-      <div class="verse">And valk in Herbage as delights the Flock,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But stinks of Sweet Herbs vorser nor the Dock!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_466" id="Page_466">[Pg 466]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">“To go to set this solitary Job</div>
-      <div class="verse">To Von whose Vork vos alvay in a Mob!</div>
-      <div class="verse">It’s out of all our Lines, for sure I am</div>
-      <div class="verse">Jack Shepherd even never kep a Lamb!”</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_466" name="i_466">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_466.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">A PUBLIC DINNER.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“I arn’t ashamed to say I sit and veep</div>
-      <div class="verse">To think of Seven Year of keepin Sheep,</div>
-      <div class="verse">The spooniest Beasts in Nater, all to Sticks,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And not a Votch to take for all their Ticks!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“If I’d fore-seed how Transports would turn out</div>
-      <div class="verse">To only Baa! and Botanize about,</div>
-      <div class="verse">I’d quite as leaf have had the t’other Pull,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And come to Cotton as to all this Vool!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Von only happy moment I have had</div>
-      <div class="verse">Since here I come to be a Farmer’s Cad,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And then I cotch’d a vild Beast in a Snooze,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And pick’d her Pouch of three young Kangaroos!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“Vot chance have I to go to Race or Mill?</div>
-      <div class="verse">Or show a sneaking Kindness for a Till;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And as for Vashings, on a hedge to dry,</div>
-      <div class="verse">I’d put the Natives’ Linen in my Eye!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_467" id="Page_467">[Pg 467]</a></span>
-      <div class="verse">“If this whole Lot of Mutton I could scrag,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And find a Fence to turn it into Swag,</div>
-      <div class="verse">I’d give it all in Lonnon Streets to stand,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And if I had my pick, I’d say the Strand!</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“But ven I goes, as maybe vonce I shall,</div>
-      <div class="verse">To my old crib to meet with Jack, and Sal,</div>
-      <div class="verse">I’ve been so gallows honest in this Place,</div>
-      <div class="verse">I shan’t not like to show my sheepish Face.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“It’s wery hard for nothing but a Box</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of Irish Blackguard to be keepin’ Flocks,</div>
-      <div class="verse">’Mong naked Blacks, sich Savages to hus,</div>
-      <div class="verse">They’ve nayther got a Pocket nor a Pus.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">“But Folks may tell their Troubles till they’re sick</div>
-      <div class="verse">To dumb brute Beasts,&mdash;and so I’ll cut my Stick!</div>
-      <div class="verse">And vot’s the Use a Feller’s Eyes to pipe</div>
-      <div class="verse">Vere von can’t borrow any Gemman’s Vipe?”</div>
-    </div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-   <a id="i_467" name="i_467">
-   <img class="mtop1" src="images/i_467.jpg"
-      alt="" /></a>
-  <p class="caption mbot1">OUT OF SIGHT OUT OF MIND.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_468" id="Page_468">[Pg 468]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="ANACREONTIC">ANACREONTIC.<br />
-
-<span class="s6">BY A FOOTMAN.</span></h2>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-  <div class="poetry">
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">It’s wery well to talk in praise</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of Tea and Water-drinking ways,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">In proper time and place;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Of sober draughts, so clear and cool,</div>
-      <div class="verse">Dipp’d out of a transparent pool</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Reflecting heaven’s face.</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">Of babbling brooks, and purling rills,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And streams as gushes from the hills,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">It’s wery well to talk;&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse">But what becomes of all sich schemes,</div>
-      <div class="verse">With ponds of ice, and running streams,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">As doesn’t even walk?</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">When Winter comes with piercing cold,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And all the rivers, new or old,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Is frozen far and wide;</div>
-      <div class="verse">And limpid springs is solid stuff,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And crystal pools is hard enough</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">To skate upon and slide;&mdash;</div>
-    </div>
-    <div class="stanza">
-      <div class="verse">What then are thirsty men to do,</div>
-      <div class="verse">But drink of ale, and porter too,</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">Champagne as makes a fizz;</div>
-      <div class="verse">Port, sherry, or the Rhenish sort,</div>
-      <div class="verse">And p’rhaps a drop of summut short&mdash;</div>
-      <div class="verse mleft1">The water-pipes is friz!</div>
-    </div>
-  </div>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="r20" />
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
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