Chapter IX (3)

┌─────────────────┬───────────────────────────────────────────────────┐ │ │ APRIL. │ ├──┬──────────────┴───────────────────────────────────────────────────┤ │ │Hail, shopping! dear delicious pain! │ │ │Can April _showers_ control thy _reign_? │ │ │Or check the pace of _slippery_ feet, │ │ │Up Ludgate Hill or Regent Street: │ │ │Ah, me! what bliss to have a wife │ │ │So boldly dare the weather's strife! │ │ │Careful alike,—or something worse,— │ │ │Of draggled clothes and husband's purse. │ ├──┼──────────────────────────────────────────────────────┬───────────┤ │D.│ =Great Events and Odd Matters.= │_Prognosti-│ │ │ │fications._│ ├──┼──────────────────────────────────────────────────────┼───────────┤ │ 1│_Sapientia._ Cockneys commence angling for │ becoming │ │ │ red-herrings. │ │ │ │ │ │ │ 2│_Low_ Sunday. Vide Whitechapel, Primrose Hill, and St.│Lord of the│ │ │ Giles's. │ │ │ │ │ │ │ 3│ │Ascendant, │ │ │ │ │ │ 4│ │ ♀ ♅ ☊ ☿ │ │ │ │ │ │ 5│ │ doth │ │ │ │ │ │ 6│_Solon_ born. Judge Patteson retires from the bench to│ betoken │ │ │ take the │ │ │ │ chair of the British College of Health. _Old Lady │ │ │ │ Day._ │ │ │ 7│ │ _civil_ │ │ │ │ │ │ 8│ │ THE WONDERFUL PILL. │commotions │ │ │ │ │ │ │ 9│ A CARD. │Take gamboge, as you find it, for │in _Great_ │ │ │ │ better or worse, │ │ │ │ │And aloes,—the strongest,—a drug for a │ │ │ │ │ horse; │ │ │10││A few peppermint drops, a few turns of │ France, │ │ │ │ a mill, │ │ │ │ │And you get the contents of the │ │ │ │ │ Wonderful Pill. │ │ │11│ │Take the head of a monkey, be-whisker'd│ ⚹ ♀ │ │ │ │ & frizzl'd, │ │ │ │ MORRISON │The eyes of a tiger, be-demon'd and │ │ │ │ │ devill'd; │ │ │12│ And Co. │Add a magpie, a fox, and a vulture in │ │ │ │ │ one, │ │ │ │_Undertakers._│And a heart with less blood than a │so, in like│ │ │ │ pillar of stone:— │ │ │13│ ——— │Take of folly, stupidity, weakness— │ │ │ │ │ enough:— │ │ │ │ FUNERALS │Of credulity, ignorance, fear—quantum │ manner, │ │ │ │ suff:— │ │ │14│ FURNISHED, │These ingredients, combin'd with │ │ │ │ │ discernment & skill, │ │ │ │ Corpse │Give the knave and the dupe of the │ │ │ │ included. │ Wonderful pill. │ │ │15│ │ ♈ ♀ ♄ ⚹ │ │ │ │ │ │16│Mutiny at _Spit_-head. Cooks strike for wages. │ doth the │ │ │ │ │ │17│ │ascendancy │ │ │ │ │ │18│ │ │ │ │ │ ☉ ☌ ♂ ☽ │ │19│ │ │ │ │ │ of the │ │20│ │ │ │ │ │Lady of the│ │21│_Solomon's_ b. d. kept. Horrible plot to burn the City│ │ │ │ of London, and murder all the inhabitants, │ Seventh │ │ │ frustrated │ │ │22│ by "Atkins, Mayor." A.D. 1817. │ │ │ │ │ House, │ │23│ │ │ │ │ 'Twas enough to create a confusion and pother,│ │ │24│ For the nest of one Mayor to be found by │ ♓ ☍ ♀ │ │ │ _another_. │ │ │ │ │ │ │25│ │ augur │ │ │ │ │ │26│ │ divers │ │ │ │ │ │27│ │ ♌ ♈ │ │ │ │ │ │28│ │ _uncivil_ │ │ │ │ │ │29│_Thrashing_ commences in London. Macready thrashes │commotions │ │ │ Bunn, but gets nothing but _chaff_. │ │ │ │ │ │ │30│_Rogue_ation S. A pickpocket ducked about this time. │ among │ └──┴──────────────────────────────────────────────────────┴───────────┘

THE DERBY DAY.

Here's a right and true list of all the running horses! Dorling's
correct card for the Derby day!——Hollo, old un! hand us up one
here, will you: and let it be a good un: there, now what's to pay?

Only sixpence. Sixpence! I never gave more than a penny at Hookem
Snivey in all my days.——May be not, your honour: but Hookem Snivey
aint Hepsom: and sixpence is what every gemman, as is a gemman,
pays.

I can buy 'em for less than that on the course, and I'll wait till I
get there. Beg your honour's pardon; they sells 'em a shillin' on
the course. Give you threepence. They cost _me_ fippence ha'p'ny
farden.

Well, here then, take your list back again. Come, come; your honour
shall have it at your own price:——I wouldn't sell it nob'dy else
for no sitch money: but I likes the sound of your wice.

Here, then, give me the change, will you?—Oh, certainly: but your
honour's honcommon ard:——Let's see: you want two-and-threepence:
wait a moment, there's another gentleman calling out for a card.

Hollo, coachman, stop, stop! Coachman, do you hear? stop your horses
this moment, and let me get down:——The fellow's run away behind an
omnibus without giving me change out of my half-crown.

That's alvays the vay they does on these here hoccasions: they calls
it catching a flat:——Sorry I can't stop. Where's the new police?
Pretty police truly, to suffer such work as that!

Well, if ever I come to Epsom again! but let's look at the list:
it's cost me precious dear!——Ascot, Mundig, Pelops! why, good
heavens, coachman! they've sold me a list for last year!

Oh, ma! look there! what a beautiful carriage! scarlet and gold
liveries, and horses with long tails.——And stodge-full of
gentlemen with mustaches, and cigars, and Macintoshes, and green
veils:

Whose is it, ma? Don't know, my dear; but no doubt belongs to some
duke, or marquis, or other great nob.——Beg your pardon, ma'am: but
that carriage as you're looking at is a party of the swell mob.

And, oh my! ma: look at that other, full of beautiful ladies,
dressed like queens and princesses.——Silks and satins and velvets,
and gauze sleeves and ermine tippets: I never saw such elegant
dresses:

And how merry they look, laughing and smiling! they seem determined
to enjoy the sport:——Who are they, ma? Don't know, dear; but no
doubt they're Court ladies. Yes, ma'am, Cranbourne Court.

How do, Smith? nice sort of tit you've got there. Very nice indeed:
_very_ nice sort of mare.——Beautiful legs she's got, and
nicely-turned ancles, and 'pon my word, a most elegant head of
hair.

How old is she? and how high does she stand? I should like to buy
her if she's for sale.——Oh, she's quite young: not above
five-and-twenty or thirty; and her height exactly a yard and a
half and a nail:

Price eighty guineas. She'd be just the thing for you; capital
hunter as ever appeared at a fixture.——Only part with her on
account of her colour; not that _I_ mind: only Mrs. S. don't like
an _Oxford mixture_.

Hehlo! you faylow! you person smoking the pipe, I wish you'd take
your quadruped out of the way.——Quadruped, eh? you be blowed! it's
no quadruped, but as good a donkey as ever was fed upon hay.

Oh, my! ma; there's the course. What lots of people, and horses, and
booths, and grand stands.——And what oceans of gipsies and
jugglers, and barrel organs, and military bands!

And was ever such sights of Savoyards and French women singing and
E-O-tables;——And horses rode up and down by little boys, or tied
together in bundles, and put up in calimanco stables;

And look at that one, they call him _Boney_-parte. Did you ever in
all your lifetime see a leaner?——And "Royal Dinner Saloons" (for
royalty the knives might have been a little brighter, and the
linen a little cleaner);

And women with last-dying speeches in one hand, and in the other all
the best new comic songs;——And, dear me! how funnily that
gentleman sits his horse; for all the world just like a pair of
tongs.

And—clear the course! clear the course! Oh, dear! now the great
Derby race is going to be run.——Twelve to one! Ten to one! Six to
one! Nine to two! Sixteen to three! Done, done, done, done!

Here they come! here they come! blue, green buff, yellow, black,
brown, white, harlequin, and red!——Sir, I wish you'd stand off of
our carriage steps: it's quite impossible to see through your
head.

There, now they're gone: how many times round? Times round, eh? why,
bless your innocent face!——It's all over. All over! you don't say
so! I wish I'd never come: such a take in! call that a Derby race!

After being stifled with dust almost, and spoiling all our best
bonnets and shawls and cloaks!——Call that a Derby race, indeed!
I'm sure it's no Derby, but nothing but a right-down, regular
_Oaks_.

But come, let's have a bit of lunch: I'm as hungry as if I hadn't
had a bit all day.——Smith, what are you staring at? why don't you
make haste, and hand us the hamper this way?

We shall never have anything to eat all day if you don't stir
yourself, and not go on at that horrid slow rate.——Oh, Lord! the
bottom's out, and every bit of meat and drink, and worse than all,
the knives and forks and plate,—

Stole and gone clean away! Good heavenlies! and I told you to keep
your eye on the basket, you stupid lout!——Well, so I did, on the
_top_ of it, but who'd have thought of their taking the bottom
out?

Well, never mind: they'll be prettily disappointed: for you know,
betwixt you and me and the wall,——Our ivory knives and forks were
nothing but bone; and our plate nothing but German silver, after
all.

What race is to be run next? No more, ma'am: the others were all run
afore you come.——Well, then, have the horses put to, Smith: I'll
never come a Derbying again; and let us be off home.

Oh, lawk! what a stodge of carriages! I'm sure we shall never get
off the course alive!——Oh, dear! do knock that young drunken
gentleman off the box: I'm sure he's not in a fit state to drive.

There, I told you how it would be. Oh, law! you've broke my arm, and
compound-fractured my leg!——Oh! for 'eavens sake, lift them two
'orrid osses off my darter! Sir, take your hands out of my
pocket-hole, I beg!

I say, the next time you crawl out of a coach window, I wish you
wouldn't put your foot on a lady's chest.——Vell, if ever I seed
such a purl as that (and I've seed many a good un in my time) I'll
be blest.

Oh, dear! going home's worse than coming! It's ten to one if ever we
get back to Tooley Street alive.——Such jostling, and pushing, and
prancing of horses! and always the tipsiest gentleman of every
party _will_ drive.

I wish I was one of those ladies at the windows; or even one of the
servant maids giggling behind the garden walls.——And oh! there's
Kennington turnpike! what shouting and hooting, and blowing those
horrid cat-calls!

Ticket, Sir? got a ticket? No, I've lost it. A shilling, then. A
shilling! I've paid you once to-day.——Oh, yes, I suppose so: the
old tale; but it wont do. That's what all you sporting gentlemen
say.

Hinsolent feller! I'll have you up before your betters. Come, sir,
you musn't stop up the way. Well, I'll pay you again; but, oh
Lord! somebody's stole my purse! good gracious, what shall I do!——
I suppose I must leave my watch, and call for it to-morrow. Oh,
ruination! blow'd if that isn't gone too!

Get on there, will you?—Well, stop a moment. Will anybody lend me a
shilling? No? Well, here then, take my hat:——But if I don't show
you up in _Bell's Life in London_ next Sunday morning, my name's
not Timothy Flat.

Well, this is my last journey to Epsom, my last appearance on any
course as a backer or hedger:——For I see plain enough a
betting-book aint a day-book, and a Derby's a very different thing
from a Ledger.

A PARALLEL CASE OF HARDSHIP.

A public subscription of several thousand pounds has been proposed to be raised towards Mr. Buckingham's losses in India; quickened by the threat that, if not sufficient to maintain him, he would be driven to the very dreadful necessity of "devoting the remainder of his days to useful and honourable labour!" To avert so dire a calamity, it will be proposed among Mr. B.'s friends to revive the old project, and send him round the world on a voyage of discovery and commerce. He is to sail on the _first_ of next _April_, and will take with him passengers, emigrants, and merchandize. First exploring the British coast, he will establish a colony of tailors at _Sheer_-ness; then offer a consignment of saddles and bridles to the inhabitants of _Ryde_; afterwards call for Mr. Ole _Bull_ off _Cowes_, as fiddler to the crew; from thence he will despatch a bale of _blankets_ to _Friez_-land, and of _gloves_ to the people of _Pau_, taking in exchange some cheap _coffee_ for charitable purposes from _Cham-berry_. Proceeding through the Channel, he will receive a few distressed ladies at _Bride_port on an experimental voyage to _Beau_-maris. The _late_ ministry will accompany him as far as the _Ex_, and at _Ply-Mouth Sound_ he will take in the _substance_ of his next parliamentary campaign. At the _Scilly_ Islands he will try to dispose of a heavy consignment from Paternoster Row and some leading establishments at the west-end of the town. He will leave the Poor Law Commissioners at their headquarters at _Flint_; thence crossing the Atlantic, he will deposit the bones of Mr. Carus Wilson at _Long_ Island, and offer a cargo of _soft-soap_ at _Washing_ton. He will next despatch _Stone masons_ to the _Chipaway_ country, and Carpenters to the _Chick-a-saws_, and he will be commissioned to get a lot of _old Joes_ exchanged at _New-Found-Land_. He will supply the natives of _Chili_ with _great coats_, carry _ham_ and _beef_ to the _Sandwich_ Islands, and _broad cloth_ to _Bombay_. He will then reach the North Pole by taking up his ship in an air balloon, and remaining suspended, till, as the world goes round, the arctic circle is just under his feet, when he will drop into the midst of it. Coming home from the North, about next St. Swithin twelvemonths, he will bring us a little _Blue_ from the Island of _Skye_, and call off the coast of _Ayr_-shire for another scheme to raise the _wind_. On his arrival, the wooden guns at Jack Straw's Castle will be fired, and the town illuminated with _moonshine_.

MAY.—Beating the Bounds.
]

┌────────────────┬────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐ │ │ MAY. │ ├──┬─────────────┴────────────────────────────────────────────────────┤ │ │Some modern sages, nothing can be flatter, │ │ │Find _Bi_-polarity 'twixt mind and matter. │ │ │There's prima facie proof, upon the whole, │ │ │It _once_ existed in the _man_-maypole. │ │ │But barring manners, you'll admit no less, │ │ │He stands conspicuous for his pole-height-ness. │ ├──┼──────────────────────────────────────────────────────┬───────────┤ │D.│ =Great Events and Odd Matters.= │_Prognosti-│ │ │ │fications._│ ├──┼──────────────────────────────────────────────────────┼───────────┤ │ 1│Chimney Sweepers' Jubilee. Emancipation of the │ │ │ │ _Blacks_. │ │ │ │ │ │ │ 2│ │ the lords │ │ │ │ │ │ 3│ ARCHERY.—MISS HIGGINS TO MISS FIGGINS. │and ladies │ │ │ │ │ │ 4│This comes to tell you, dearest Coz, I've been to │ ☌ ♂ │ │ │ Beulah Spa, │ │ │ │And there, among the Archer folk, have shone with such│ │ │ │ éclat. │ │ │ 5│Well, I declare, 'tis charming sport to play at bows │of all the │ │ │ and arrows: │ │ │ │I do not wonder little boys so love to shoot at │ │ │ │ sparrows. │ │ │ 6│Some petty, trifling accidents occurr'd, I must │ houses in │ │ │ confess: │ │ │ │In taking aim, I tore a hole in Mrs. Simpkin's dress, │ │ │ 7│Who gave me such a frightful look, as really made me │ _Petty_ │ │ │ shiver; │ │ │ │And put my nerves in such a way as caus'd my hand to │ │ │ │ quiver. │ │ │ 8│So, just as Mr. Foozle, in his most politest manner, │France.[2] │ │ │Was paying me fine compliments, and calling me Diana, │ │ │ 9│My elbow slipped, and struck him such a blow upon the │ ♋ ♀ ♐ │ │ │ nose, │ │ │ │As caus'd the blood to spirt about, and cover all his │ │ │ │ clothes. │ │ │10│The boy who picks the arrows up, I shot right thro' │ Again │ │ │ the ear: │ │ │ │I'm sure he'd but himself to blame,—he stood so very │ │ │ │ near: │ │ │11│'Twas only just a hundred yards from where the target │ ☽ ♀ ♐ ♄ │ │ │ stood, │ │ │ │So how to help the hitting him would puzzle Robin │ │ │ │ Hood. │ │ │12│Altho' I'm sorry for the brat, I greatly pleas'd my │ who will │ │ │ spark, │ │ │ │Who thought me quite a heroine to shoot so near the │ │ │ │ mark. │ │ │13│So pr'ythee come, my dearest Coz, Diana's bow to draw,│deny, that │ │ │And join the gay Toxophilites who shoot at Beulah Spa.│ │ │14│ │ │ │ │ │ ♏ ♉ │ │15│Whit-Monday. │Now madcap Mirth, with reckless air, │ │ │ │ │ Sports down gay Pleasure's tide; │ _Juniper_ │ │16│Whit-Tuesday.│With every care cast to the winds, │ │ │ │ │ And all his _Wits-untied_. │hath a more│ │17│ │ │ │ │ │ malignant │ │18│ │ │ │ │ │ influence │ │19│ │ │ │ │ │ than │ │20│ │ │ │ │ │_Jupiter?_ │ │21│ │ │ │ │From Friars-Black and Chapel-White │ │ │22│ They rush to Greenwich Fair, │ ♅ ☉ ☊ ☽ │ │ │Each donkey-cart has its asses' load, │ │ │23│ Each chaise owns three a pair. │ │ │ │Some go by steam or sailing vessel, │ or, that, │ │24│Some by the _Elephant and Castle_. │ │ │ │ │ in the │ │25│The vent'rous see that famous hill, │ │ │ │ Renown'd for fate's decree, │olden times│ │26│That they who tarry at the top │ │ │ │ Shall soon the bottom see. │ of │ │ │ │ pugilism, │ │27│There's merry frisking on the grass, │ │ │ │ For courting sporting people; │ │ │28│And the curious seek the spying glass, │ ♀ ♐ ♊ ♉ │ │ │ To peep at Barking steeple. │ │ │29│ │ │ │ │ │ │ │30│ │ │ │ │ │ │ │31│ │ │ └──┴──────────────────────────────────────────────────────┴───────────┘

Footnote 2:

A _terra incognita_, lying in the vicinity of Tothill Fields.

"Show his eyes and grieve his heart;
Come like shadows, so depart."

COURTEOUS READER,

DIVARICATING from the beaten track of all my predecessors in the Celestial Art, whose method it hath ever been to leave the interpretation of their symbolical prefigurements to be explorated and divined by the subtlety of the ingenious reader himself,—by the which they did shroud, in a tenfold tenebrosity of Cimmerian gloom, their no-meaning mysteries, and ambiguous puzzlements;—deviating, I say, from such a course, I do herewith not only present thee, as hath been my custom, with an Hieroglyphic "adapted to the times," but lifting the veil of obscurity, wherein it is shrouded from vulgar apprehension, lay patent and exposed the hidden meaning thereof.

It hath in it the three grand postulates or requirements of a veritable Hieroglyphic, _videlicet_,—It is Astroscopical, Astrological, and Prophetical:—

It is _Astroscopical_, as it is founded on an observation of the Stars.

It is _Astrological_, as it is indicative of planetary potency and lunar influence; and

It is _Prophetical_, inasmuch as it not only presenteth the present, but futurizeth the future.

_Taurus_, the _Bull_ (egregious John!), having, through a plethora of purse, fallen into a dreamy mood, yielded himself up to a somniferous influence, which becloudeth, with a misty obfuscation, his natural senses; whereupon the megrims of his crazy brain do set themselves to work, and conjure up certain airy visions of speculative aggrandizement.

Floating _in nubibus_ before his fancy's eye, are sundry bubbles, blown by an Imp of Speculation, who ruleth the phantasies which do take John's imagination captive. _Gemini_ (the Twins) in the similitude of a joint-stock Company proffer him wealth;—baseless castles, of unsubstantial fabric, resting on ether, do shadow forth his brick-and-mortar predilections;—and a rail-road betwixt Dover and Calais, uniting that which nature had dissevered, accomplisheth that propinquity, which John ever affecteth for good neighbourhood and fellowship; while _Luna_, who hath established a reciprocity rail-road with our planet, grinneth at his gullibility, and marketh him for her own.

Descending from the clouds, note we the state of his household matters, while he thus dreameth in complacent security.

Thou mayest observe, gentle Reader, certain satellites of _Mercury_ (the planet of thieves), who, under the impersonation of rooks, by an immersion of their long beaks into the profundity of his pockets, are abstracting his treasure. At the right hand of the dreamer, a cutpurse knave of Spades, the apt symbol of rail-road diggers and miners, hath, by an undermining trick, possessed himself of his bullion; while the Demon of Gin, in the likelihood of a crafty serpent, entwined round his lower extremities, shadoweth forth the ruin with which the fiend spirit threateneth the props of the body politic,—the Industrious Classes. The rats, those rogues in grain, are devouring his corn; and his faithful Tray is gnawing at his dinner.

Surrounded as he is by wealth and plenty, shall we marvel, that when the master of the house sleepeth on his post, knaves will cheat, thieves will steal, and servants will pilfer?

A MAY-DAY LAY.

Hip, hip, huzza!
For Merry May!
More dear than tongues can tell,
To ev'ry child of Phœbus,—and
Of Lancaster and Bell.

Lay by your books:
Let anxious looks
Give place to mirth and smiles.
Come, come, my lads, put up your _slates_,
And run and fetch your _tiles_!

Now off they go,
Dick, Tom, and Joe,
Just like a pack of hounds;
With vicar, crier, and beadle too,
To beat the parish bounds.

Away, away,
By bank and brae,
By footway and by highway:
Each lane a Lad-lane now becomes,
And ev'ry way a Boy-way.

At ev'ry well
Their notes they swell,—
One's in the water thrown;
Where he this moral lesson learns:—
"Always let _well_ alone."

And then at night,
Oh! what delight
To hear the pipes of Pan!
And see the old connexion still
Kept up 'twixt _May_ and _Can_!

While maidens bound
The May-pole round,
With hearts and footsteps light:
And near the _Pole_ a _booth_ is found,
A _Boothia Felix_ quite.

At least 'twas so
Some years ago,
Ere wisdom oped our eyes;
And farthing folks, with penny mags,
Made people penny wise.

But, nowadays,
We've no such Mays:
Unpluck'd now blows the hawthorn.
A May-pole I no more can find
Than Parry can the _northern_.

Our Johnny raws
Read Newton's laws,
All merriment unheeding;
And, poring over the _Laws of Light_,
Imagine it light reading.

Yet still, sweet May,
To me thou'rt gay;
My pleasure and my pride!
I love thy vi'lets, daffodils,
Daisies,—and pigeons—pied!

I love thy flow'rs,
And shady bow'rs;
Thy mountains and thy vales.
I love thy _morning breezes_, and
I love thy _nightingales_!

Then, hip! huzza!
For Merry May!
We'll banish care and fear;
And sing and dance from _day_ to _day_,
And laugh from _ear_ to _ear_!

JUNE.—Haymaking.
]

┌────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┬────────────┐ │ JUNE. │ [1837.│ ├──┬─────────────────────────────────────────────────────┴────────────┤ │ │Pattern of patience,—placid punter,—say, │ │ │ Since early dawn, when thou didst take thy stand, │ │ │How many nibbles hast thou had? I pray,— │ │ │ How many minnows hast thou brought to land? │ │ │Not one!—yet comfort thee, Piscator bold; │ │ │One thing, at least, you're sure to catch,—_a cold_! │ ├──┼─────────────────────────────────────────────────────┬────────────┤ │D.│ =Great Events and Odd Matters.= │_Prognosti- │ │ │ │fications._ │ ├──┼─────────────────────────────────────────────────────┼────────────┤ │ 1│ │ Crib │ │ │ │ │ │ 2│ │ squaring │ │ │ │ │ │ 3│Transit of Venus. A ship-load of Vestals consigned to│ to Gully │ │ │ Van Diemen's land. │ │ │ │ │ │ │ 4│ │ ☍ □ ♂ ☉ │ │ │ │ │ │ 5│ │ had a more │ │ │ │ │ │ 6│ │ sinster │ │ │ │ │ │ 7│ │aspect than │ │ │ │ │ │ 8│Sun rises 3 h. 48 m. │ Mercury │ │ │ │ │ │ 9│ I wish _my_ Son would rise as soon, │squaring to │ │ │ To breathe the balmy air of June,— │ │ │10│ The lazy dog! │ Mars? │ │ │ Not snoring half his hours away, │ │ │11│ Lie like a torpid lump of clay, │ ♎ ♃ ☿ │ │ │ Or old King Log. │ │ │12│ To rouse the sluggard from his nest, │ Then, │ │ │ I've all things tried, and done my │ │ │ │ best,— │ │ │13│ The prig! │as touching │ │ │ I've stripped the clothes, in hopes │ │ │ │ he'd mend; │ │ │14│ I've given him strap,—a thick rope's │ THE │ │ │ end,— │ │ │ │ Cold pig! │ │ │15│ In vain!—There lies the stupid clown, │ WEATHER │ │ │ As if the Night Mare held him down. │ │ │16│ │ ♈ ☍ │ │ │ │ │ │17│ │what better │ │ │ │ │ │18│Battle of Waterloo. _Lobsters_ in │ │ │ │ season. │ │ │ │ │ index │ │19│ │ │ │ │ │ │ │20│ │ need we of │ │ │ │ │ │21│Daniel Lambert died. Grand Diet of _Worms_. │ ♂ ☉ ♉ ♋ │ │ │ │ │ │22│ The grave-digger fled, all a-shiv'ring│ its │ │ │ and shaking, │ │ │ │ For old Mother Earth she cried, │ │ │23│ With a terrible groan: "Why the deuce │evershifting│ │ │ are you making │ │ │ │ This precious big hole in my side!" │ │ │24│ │ ♊ ♒ △ │ │ │ │ │ │25│QUARTER DAY. Moon hides behind a cloud, for fear of │ variable │ │ │ being shot. │ │ │ │ │ │ │26│ │ variations │ │ │ │ │ │27│ │ ☿ □ ☊ ♍ │ │ │ │ than the │ │28│ Ha! my lad, you've caught a Tartar, │countenance │ │ │ Landlords never give _no quarter_. │ │ │29│ │ of │ │ │ │ │ │30│ │ Spouse? │ └──┴─────────────────────────────────────────────────────┴────────────┘

MISS AMELIA SMITH TO MISS JULIA SMYTHE.

"DEAREST JULIA,—Since that very unpleasant affair of pa's bankruptcy, which made it so disagreeable to stop in town, I have really not had a moment to spare. I take the first opportunity to tell you that our farming goes on quite as well as might be expected; and I hope in a few years we shall be able to hold up our heads again in our dear native Tooley Street, and among our friends at dear No. 29½.

"Haymaking is just over, and such fun! Oh, how I wished for you, dear Julia! you would so have liked it!—tedding, and windrowing, and staddle-rowing, and quilling, and above all, being rolled about and tumbled to bits by the young Browns, our handsome neighbours, who kindly offered their assistance on this occasion. Young Edwin, who paid particular attention to me, and squeezed my best transparent muslin bonnet to a mummy, and tore my green silk frock all to rags, is one of the nicest young men in these parts, and a great favourite with us all. Pa and ma sat on a bank directing our proceedings out of a book pa's got, which tells you all about farming, and agriculture, and everything. I am head shepherdess, and go out every morning with my crook and Spanish guitar, and sit all day long on a bank playing to the sheep and lambs; young Edwin Brown generally coming and keeping me company with his German flute, which makes it very pleasant. Besides having the care of the flocks, I am put in charge of the eggs and poultry; but, though I have every reason to believe that our hens lay regularly, I cannot for the life of me find their nests: and I assure you I have searched over and over again in all the trees about the premises. The only eggs I have been able to get were some brought in by pa the other day, and which I immediately set under a Bantam hen; but, unfortunately, they turned out nothing but snakes. Also a second lot, picked up by brother John in one of his walks, which unluckily proving to be pheasants, poor John has been informed against by a neighbouring gamekeeper, and will have to pay goodness knows what penalty, and has got the character of a poacher into the bargain. What a fuss is here about poaching a few eggs!

"My geese also have been very disappointing, though we have had the tank in front of the house carefully covered in with invisible wire for their accommodation, where they are kept night and day, and have fresh water given them every morning. Ducks likewise don't go on very swimmingly; and as to our horned cattle, things have gone very crooked. Pa bought a lot of cows, and thereby hangs a tale, for on bringing them up to milk we couldn't get a drop; and on inquiry found that he ought to have bought milch cows, and not feeding cows, which are only used for making beef of. But he soon bought others, and we have now a very good dairy, and Lucy is quite pat at making butter, but mamma is rather green at making cheese.

"Brother John attends the markets—not that we have anything to sell—but it is considered regular; and indeed he makes a regular thing of it by getting tipsy every market day. Emily, who, you know, was always very fond of birds, bought a lot of pigeons, and a tame hawk, and a jackdaw; but, unfortunately, the hawk got one day into the dovecot, and killed every one of the pigeons; and the jackdaw has stolen all our silver forks and spoons. Brother John purchased a lot more pigeons at the market, which flew away the next morning; and pa, in his rage, wrung the jackdaw's neck, so that we are safe to see no more of our forks and spoons.

"Ma undertook to manage the bees, and has had a glass hive fixed at her bed-room window. The first night she was very unlucky; for, getting up in the dark to open the window, she forgot the bees, and smashed one of the hives, whereupon the little savages flew at her and almost stung her to death; and pa, who heard her cries and jumped out of bed to her assistance, got as roughly handled as ma. Only fancy, Julia dear, being in nothing but your chemise, and two hundred thousand bees stinging at you like mad! not pleasant, is it?

"Our pig-sties, I am sorry to say, are quite empty, the pigs having strayed and got into the parish pound (unknown to us, of course), where they were at last sold to pay their expenses. Susan, however, has been very successful in rearing a litter of Guinea pigs, and Emily has got a most delightful lot of little peacocks. Also John, who has bought a hunter and means to follow the hounds, has had wonderful luck with his foxes, for whose accommodation he has planted two of our largest fields full of gorse bushes. A singular thing occurred the other day with regard to one of these creatures: he was seen retreating to the gorse covert, closely pursued by one of the turkeys; and, more singular still, the turkey has never since been heard of, and it is generally supposed that it followed the fox into one of its holes and got suffocated. Several of the chickens have also disappeared in a very mysterious way, and we can only account for it in the same manner.

"Our health is capital—except ma, who has got the lumbago by sitting without her shawl in the hay-field—and pa, who is laid up with a cold and sore throat from standing in the draught of a winnowing machine—and Emily, who has got a face as big as two with running to fetch the young ducks out of the rain—and Abraham, who has almost cut his hand off with pruning the damson trees—and John, who, I am afraid, has lamed himself for life in trying to jump his horse over a five-barred gate with spikes on it—and your humble servant, who has put out one of her wrists, and sprained one of her ancles, and fractured one of her ribs in climbing up a tree after a hen's nest—or rather, a magpie's. My wrist is so bad at this moment that you must excuse my abruptly signing myself,

"Dearest Julia, your most affectionate
"AMELIA.

"P.S. Wrist or no wrist, I must tell you of the perfidy of that villain, Edwin Brown. Ma has just been in to say that he has run away with his father's dairymaid. A perjured wretch! and a dairymaid too! I have for-sworn love for ever, and made over my sheep to Emily. Oh, Julia!

"P.S. I open this sheet to tell you of the shocking fire that happened here last night. We might have all been burnt to death in our beds. The barns, stables, and other out-buildings are reduced to cinders; and all owing to William's fine rick of hay, which it seems was put up too green, and took fire of its own accord. Very odd—pa's book never said a word about it. We are all very miserable.

"Your doubly afflicted
"AMELIA."

OPERATION OF THE NEW POOR LAWS.

A man in the last stage of destitution came before the sitting magistrate at Lambeth Street, and stated, that having by the operation of the New Poor Laws been suddenly deprived of parish assistance, he was reduced to such extremity, that, if not instantly relieved, he must be driven to do a deed that his soul abhorred. The worthy magistrate instantly ordered him five shillings from the poor-box, and after a suitable admonition against giving way to despair, asked him what dreadful deed he would have been impelled to but for this seasonable relief? "To work!" said the man, with a deep sigh, as he left the office.

┌──────────────────────────────────────────────────────┬──────────────┐ │ JULY. ││ ├──┬───────────────────────────────────────────────────┼──────────────┤ │ │Two potent elements combine │ │ │ │ To rule the month together, │ │ │ │St. Swithin gives us showers of rain, │ │ │ │ The mad dogs, _biting_ weather. │ │ │ │And if you get a dubious gripe │ │ │ │ From Pincher, Snap, or Toby, │ │ │ │The good saint's bucket comes right │ │ │ │ To test the Hydro-phoby. │ │ ├──┼───────────────────────────────────────────────────┼──────────────┤ │D.│ =Great Events and Odd Matters.= │ _Prognosti- │ │ │ │ fications._ │ ├──┼───────────────────────────────────────────────────┼──────────────┤ │ 1│ │ │ │ │ │ Doth not │ │ 2│ │ │ │ │ │ many │ │ 3│Dog Days _beg_. │ │ │ │ │ a Benedick │ │ 4│ "Old Mother Hubbard │ │ │ │ │ ♋ ☍ ♐ │ │ 5│ Went to the cupboard, │ │ │ │ │ know │ │ 6│ To get her poor dog a bone." │ │ │ │ │ right well │ │ 7│ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ 8│ │ ♏ ♈ ♎ ♉ │ │ │ │ │ │ 9│ HOW TO MAKE A MAD DOG. │ that a │ │ │ │ │ │10│ _By a Knowing Hand._ │ cloudy │ │ │ │ │ │11│Tie a dog that is little, and one that is large, │ brow │ │ │To a truck or a barrow as big as a barge; │ │ │12│Their mouths girded tight with a rugged old cord │ ♄ ⚹ ♒ │ │ │ (or │ │ │ │They'll put out their tongues) by the magistrate's │ │ │ │ order; │ │ │13│So you save 'em the trouble of feeding, I think, │ │ │ │Or the loss of your time by their stopping to │ on the │ │ │ drink. │ │ │14│Lend 'em out, 'tis a neighbourly duty, of course, │ │ │ │And mind they've a load that would stagger a horse.│ aspect of │ │15│If you've nothing to draw, why, yourselves let 'em │ │ │ │ carry (sons │ │ │ │Of she dogs!), or else they'll be drawing │ his dear │ │ │ compari-sons. │ │ │16│With a stick or a kick make 'em gallop away, │ │ │ │And smoke through the streets in a piping-hot day, │ │ │17│Where Mac Adam is spreading his pebbles about, │ ☌ ♈ │ │ │And they'll pick up their feet all the quicker, no │ │ │ │ doubt; │ │ │18│More than all, don't allow them their noses to │ betokeneth │ │ │ wet;—it │ │ │ │Will keep 'em alert by the "wish they may get it." │ │ │19│All pleasures must end:—when they drop head and │ _cool_ │ │ │ tail, │ │ │ │With their muzzles all froth, like a tankard of │ │ │ │ ale, │ │ │20│Turn 'em loose in the road with a whoop and a │ _breezes_, │ │ │ hollo, │ │ │ │And get all the thieves and the blackguards to │ │ │ │ follow. │ │ │21│It's a precious good lark for the neighbours, │ ☍ ♈ ♀ ⚹ │ │ │ you'll find, │ │ │ │With the mad dogs before and the sad dogs behind, │ │ │22│And you'll ne'er be molested, rely on my word, │ probably │ │ │If you keep 'em from biting a Bishop or Lord. │ │ │23│ │ followed by │ │ │ │ │ │24│ │ _a storm_, │ │ │ │ │ │25│ │ │ │ │ │ ♋ ☊ ♅ │ │26│ │ │ │ │ │_accompanied_ │ │27│ │ │ │ │ │ _with_ │ │28│ │ │ │ │ │ _showers_? │ │29│ │ │ │ │ │ │ │30│ │ ♊ ♄ ☌ ☽ │ │ │ │ │ │31│Second week of St. Swithin. Ladies sigh for "a │ And that. │ │ │ little sun." │ │ └──┴───────────────────────────────────────────────────┴──────────────┘

JULY.—Fancy Fair.
]

FANCY-FAIRING.
"ONLY FANCY!"

I saw her at the Fancy Fair:
'Twas there my heart she won
Within the sweet, romantic grounds
Of Mr. Jenkinson.

Her ma-in-law stood by her side,
Also her aunt Griselda;
Who all the younger brothers served,
While "Missy" served the elder.

To cure Diseases of the Ear,
They say they've oped the mart:
But _I_ think it's to propagate
Diseases of the heart.

I thought I'd buy a pair of gloves,
To get a bit of talk;
Her lily hands presented them,
A pair as white as chalk.

Then, feeling for the cash to pay,
"Oh law," says I, "I'm trick'd!"—
"Dear! what's the matter, Sir?" said she;
Said I, "My pocket's pick'd!

But never mind—I'll just step home,
Some other cash to find."—
"I reckon so!" cried some pert wag
Among the crowd behind.

To show I meant to come again,
Said I, "Miss, may I beg
My umbrella and cloak to hang
Two minutes on this peg?"

"Oh yes!" said she; and off I flew
To fetch my pocket-book;
Then hasten'd back, and out of it
A five-pound note I took.

"Pray give me change, dear Miss," said I;
"For I no more can find."—
"I vishes you may get it, Sir!"
Cried out the voice behind.

The people laughed: the lady smiled
(I thought it rather strange);
Then popp'd my note into a box,
And said, "We never change!"

I soon found what an ass I'd been
To trust in pretty features.
Thinks I,—well, this is the last time
I'll deal with these dear creatures.

Since then I've learn'd that tricks like these
Are thought quite meritorious,
And that for boning five-pound notes
These dames are quite note-orious.

Says I, "Dear Miss, such barefaced cheats
Are really past a joke;
So give me my umbrella, ma'am—
And give me, ma'am, my cloak.

"Not that I care—of course, I don't—
For losing so much gold!"—
"Your cloak and your umbrella, Sir!
Oh la! they've both been sold!"

At that I lost my patience quite;
My rage I couldn't smother.
"Good heav'ns!" I cried, "the last dear gifts
Of a lamented mother!"

I rav'd and stamp'd, and _think_ I swore.
Cried Miss, "For heaven's sake, cease!"
And then she gave me—heartless girl!—
In charge of the police.

To prison soon they haul'd me off,
With pushes, shoves, and jolts;
And soon I found Dame Justice' bars
Were worse than Cupid's bolts.

Now all who read my sad mishaps,
Of nymphs like these beware!
For oh! there's many a _real cheat_
Found at a _fancy fair_.

And if you want your money's worth,
With honest traders barter;
For if to marts like these you go,
You'll surely be a martyr.

AUGUST.—Regatta.
]

┌──┬──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐ │ │ AUGUST. │ ├──┴──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┤ │ The postboys clatter to the door, │ │ Whips cracking and spurs pricking; │ │ The hero who went up at four │ │ Came down at five, alive and kicking. │ │ Below is a special communication │ │ From a private source, to inform the nation. │ ├──┬────────────────────────────────────────────────────┬─────────────┤ │D.│ =Great Events and Odd Matters.= │ _Prognosti- │ │ │ │ fications._ │ ├──┼────────────────────────────────────────────────────┼─────────────┤ │ 1│Charles X. abdic. 1830. New issue of Sovereigns. │ │ │ │ │ if he would │ │ 2│ │ │ │ │ │ _look for_ │ │ 3│ THE BALLOON ASCENT. │ │ │ │ │ _sunshine_, │ │ 4│ "_Only threepence more, and up goes the Donkey._" │ │ │ │ │ ♅ ♀ ♌ │ │ 5│Dear Captain! let me thank my lucky fate │ │ │ │That brings me safe and sound through every strait, │ he must, │ │ 6│And when my rebel subjects tipp'd me over, │ │ │ │Placed between them and me the Straits of Dover: │ungrudgingly │ │ 7│On _terra firma_ I've at length alighted, │ │ │ │More dead than living, tho' less hurt than frighted,│ and │ │ 8│And strike me ugly—that I swear quite plain, │ │ │ │I'll never venture in the air again. │ obediently, │ │ 9│To let me go the varlets scarce were willing │ │ │ │As long as they could show me for a shilling:— │ │ │10│At last however all was right and handy, │ ♃ ♂ ⊕ │ │ │By Madame's wondrous skill and—drops of brandy; │ │ │11│And while my cheeks with glowing rouge were spread, │ acquiesce │ │ │'Tis false to say the white usurp'd the red. │ │ │12│Then as we mounted in the clear blue sky, │ in and │ │ │The Queen's own private Aëronaute and I, │ │ │13│A field of handkerchiefs waved full in view, │ accede to │ │ │Dirty and clean, silk, cotton, black and blue; │ │ │14│And while the huge machine majestic rose, │ │ │ │I gazed on many an elevated nose, │ ♊ ♀ │ │15│And heard, and wrote it down, with great surprise, │ │ │ │A man in spectacles exclaim "my eyes!" │ all her │ │16│Just as we threw the sand-bags quickly o'er, │ │ │ │And rose so high that I could hear no more. │ modest │ │17│So being fairly out of mortal ken, │ │ │ │The fair one said, "We'll soon come down again." │requirements?│ │18│Too soon—for while I turn'd myself around, │ │ │ │Balloon and car came spinning to the ground: │ │ │19│The earth received my nob—too thick to split— │ ♈ ☿ ♏ │ │ │The lady fell on—what she thought most fit. │ │ │20│I gallop'd off as fast as steeds could fly; │ when, and │ │ │To bed she posted quickly, there—_to lie_. │ │ │21│ │ not before, │ │ │ │ │ │22│ │ │ │ │ │ ☉ ☽ ♑ │ │23│ │ │ │ │ │ he may │ │24│ │ │ │ │ │ reasonably │ │25│ │ │ │ │ │ │ │26│Fête Champêtre. _Field-fare_ arrive. │ ☊ ⚹ ♀ │ │ │ │ │ │27│ │ _expect_ │ │ │ │ │ │28│ │ _fair │ │ │ │ weather_ │ │ │ │ │ │29│ │ _to the_ │ │ │ │ │ │30│ │_end of the_ │ │ │ │ │ │31│Jews banished England, 1290. "New Way to Pay Old │ _month_. │ │ │ Debts." │ │ └──┴────────────────────────────────────────────────────┴─────────────┘

A TOUGH YARN.

Guy Davit was a sailor bold,
As ever hated France;
And tho' he never cared for gold,
He stuck to the main chance.

Susanna Sly was what they call
A servant of all work:
Made beds, baked pies, cleaned shoes, hemmed shirts
Blacked grates, and pickled pork.

Young Guy was born upon the Thames,
Off the Adelphi, Strand;
And so the water—do you see?—
Became his father-land.

'Twas there he served his time; and none
On "wessel," boat, or raft,
More honest was: altho' 'twas known
He loved a little _craft_.

He soon had weathered twenty-one;
Youth's cable then let slip,
He stepped out of his master's _boat_,
And his apprentice-_ship_.

Next year, the First of August come,
He trimmed his little boat,
And plied so well his oars, he won
Old Dogget's badge and coat.

'Twas then Susanna saw him first,
And first felt Cupid's dart.
The young toxophilite had hit
The bull's-eye of her heart.

A thousand hearts besides her own
With am'rous hopes beat higher,
It seemed as if Love, with his link,
Had set the Thames on fire.

So Sue set up her best mob cap
At Guy, to win his heart,
For some folks Love makes slatternly,
And some folks he makes _smart_.

But Guy was a conservative,
(The hottest of the nation,)
And so he wasn't going to yield
To any _mob's_ dictation.

Then Sue a tender letter wrote:
Guy didn't seem to heed it,
And not one word of answer sent;
For why?—he couldn't read it.

Then Susan offered him her hand:
Love made her accents falter,
"Thankee," says he; "but I prefers
A _cable_ to a _altar_."

For Guy of foreign shores had heard,
And wonders there that be;
He scarce could think such stories true,
So he went out to _sea_.

Poor Susan saw her sailor start
On board a ship of war;
Which raised her love to such a _pitch_,
She thought she'd be a _tar_.

So, casting off her female gear,
She joined the merry crew;
And round the world, thro' storm and strife
Did Sue her love pursue.

And she and Guy became sworn friends,
No hint of love e'er dropping,
Till, one day, Guy confessed he liked
A pretty maid at Wapping.

Then Susan home like lightning flew,
And so well played her part,
In likeness of a captain bold,
She won that fair maid's heart.

And, following her advantage up
(So dazzling is ambition!)
Our captain soon prevailed on her
To _altar_ her condition.

The wedding o'er, away she went,
To Guy the tidings carried,
And gave to him the newspaper
That told his love was married.

Then Guy a loaded pistol took:
"I'll kill myself!" he cried;
"Because I will not _side_ with _Sue_,
I'll be a _suicide_."

When Susan heard him say these words,
She at _her_ brains let fly:
And down, a corse, he sank, by Jove;
And down she sank—by Guy!

┌───────────────────────────────────────────────────────┬─────────────┐ │ SEPTEMBER. │ [1837.│ ├──┬────────────────────────────────────────────────────┴─────────────┤ │ │Soft, simple innocent!—how well you show │ │ │ The gentle pastimes of your Cockney mates; │ │ │From him, who sparrows shoots with penny bow, │ │ │ To him who, armed with Manton, braves the fates! │ │ │Alack! it grieves me that this shoeless boy │ │ │Should bootless follow the delusive joy; │ │ │For e'en the salt of _attic_ wit doth fail │ │ │To catch a goose:—'and thereby hangs a tale.' │ ├──┼────────────────────────────────────────────────────┬─────────────┤ │D.│ =Great Events and Odd Matters.= │ _Prognosti- │ │ │ │ fications._ │ ├──┼────────────────────────────────────────────────────┼─────────────┤ │ │Passenger-shooting begins. Old ladies and young │ │ │ 1│ children deemed fair game by cab and omnibus │ │ │ │ drivers. │ │ │ │ │ Further- │ │ 2│New _Style_. Eleven days _stepped_ over. │ more, │ │ │ │ │ │ 3│ │ △ ☿ ♍ ♅ │ │ │ │ │ │ 4│_Bartlemy Fair._ "Fair is foul, and foul is fair," │ let a │ │ │ Dabble thro' the mud "and filthy │ │ │ │ air." │ │ │ 5│ │ needy man │ │ │ │ │ │ 6│The sun of Bartlemy is well-nigh set, and his │ ☉ ♊ │ │ │latest rays are dull as the Dutch metal that gilds │ │ │ 7│his gingerbread kings. The last fair was a foul │ essay to │ │ │concern--the lions roared in a saw-dust solitude │ │ │ 8│and the monkeys chatter'd to empty boxes.--"Just │ open the │ │ │going to begin" was a never-ending cry, because │ │ │ 9│the sights waited all day for want of see-ers--Mr. │ heart or │ │ │Merryman was sad, for people would not down with │ │ │10│the dumps; and though he cried "Walk up! only │ draw │ │ │twopence," he failed to "take his change out of │ │ │11│that." In vain King Richard offer'd his kingdom │ the │ │ │for a horse; there were only a few asses within │purse-strings│ │12│ear-ing. The sausages met with no stuffers, and │ │ │ │the dog-meat pies remained unbitten, though the │ ♌ ♒ ♀ ♓ │ │13│chimney- sweeps looked rabid at 'em. The hot │ │ │ │spiced nuts met with a cold reception; the baked │ of a │ │14│plum pudding was at no price current; and the │ │ │ │ginger beer, though well up, would not go down. │fair-weather │ │15│The pyramids of apples stood as unmoved as those │ │ │ │of Egypt; but the nuts alone looked happy, for │ friend, │ │16│the people gave them "none of their jaw." The │ │ │ │temperance societies have turned the table to a │ ☉ ☿ ♂ │ │17│T;--Men who have left off gin do not support Mr. │ │ │ │Gingell; and water-drinkers have no affection │ and shall │ │18│for fire-eaters. As to the gin temples, they │ │ │ │found their day pretty well over, so they blazed │ he not │ │19│at night, but their illuminated dials have made │ │ │ │the world suspect "what's o'clock." Even the │ forthwith │ │20│pickpockets failed of their harvest: for as the │ │ │ │people abandoned the knaves in spirit, they were │ experience │ │21│able to guard against the rogues in grain. │ │ │ │ │ ☉ ♂ │ │22│ │ │ │ │ │_a cool and_ │ │23│ │ │ │ │ │_frosty air_,│ │24│HARE HUNTING. │ │ │ │ │ ☊ ♏ ♅ ♍ │ │25│ │ │ │ │ │ sufficient │ │26│ │ │ │ │ │ ♃ ♄ ♊ │ │27│ │ │ │ │ │ to blight │ │28│ │ │ │ │ │ all the │ │29│QUARTER DAY. │ │ │ │ │ blossoms │ │30│The landlord seizes for his rent, but can't be │ of hope? │ │ │ called a cheat, │ │ │ │For though he takes your stools and chairs, he │ │ │ │ leaves you a _re-seat_. │ │ └──┴────────────────────────────────────────────────────┴─────────────┘

SEPTEMBER.—Cockney Sportsmen.
]

THE FIRST OF SEPTEMBER.
A FRAGMENT.

"And that's why I don't like a flinty soil," said the farmer.

"Talking of flints," said the gentleman in the India-rubber coat, white cords, and top-boots, "we'd a werry honcommon day's sport shooting, the First of September ultimo: vich there vos me and Figgins, and Wiggins, and Higgins, and young Apollo Belvidere Hicks, the poet, vot writes werses in _Bell's Life_, and sends wery anonymous letters to the _Penny Magazine_, and sings a werry good song now and then at the Adelphi Shades—a werry slap-up party, I assure you. I writ an account of it at the time, vich I sent to _Bell's Life_; but owing to a werry great press of matter of tempory hinterest, vosn't hable to be printed. I've got the journal in my pocket, and if you like, I'll read it."

"By all means," said a chorus of voices. Whereupon the gentleman in the India-rubber coat, white cords, and top-boots, _douted_ his half-smoked cigar, stowed it away in his silver-mounted shagreen case, and pulling out an amateur-built note-book, made of half-a-dozen sheets of blue-lined paper, evidently purloined from the ledger, read as follows:

"JOURNAL OF PROCEEDINGS ON THE FIRST OF SEPTEMBER ULT.

"_Edited by Jonathan Duggins, Esq._