PAUL PRY, « IT IS A VIRTUOUS ACTION TO EXPOSE VICIOUS MEN."— DRYDEN. No. 24. PUBLISHED WEEKLY. [ PRICE ONE PENNY. Religion, virtue, decency, and pride Aro by those mauqueraders laid aside, There may be thousands languishing for bread, Fashion averts its plume- surmounted head. DISSIPATION! OR, COURTIERS AND COURTESANS; A TALE OF FASHIONABLE LIFE. ( Continued from our last.) OUR gracious QUEEN, who holds the " right divine," The claim to tax all pockets, your's and mine; Our gracious QUEEN, whose elevated mind Can condescend in mummeries to find A relaxation from the cares of State, And from the nursery's perpetual prate ; Our gracious QUEEN, resolved to Sl^ how far Fashion can lead the fools who court its star; Our grucious QUEEN determined on a ball— A fancy one, the most absurd of all. She chose the epoch of that happy age When wigs and powder puffs were all the rage. ALBERT, obedient, heard his spouse's plan ; But when she talked of powder, the young man Turned pale, Field- Marshal though he be renowned, Powder and bull have such a warlike sound ! VICTORIA smiled, and set him at his ease, Then, lowly bowing at his lady's knees, ALBERT declared the Sovereign's design, Like all her schemes, was perfectly divine; His Royal Highness, anxious for his dress, To all his tailors sent off an express, Shut himself up, with all his snips combined, And turned his manly intellectual mind To strike out something all the world should vote The ncplus ultra of a tawdry coat; Something which should out- rival e'en the fame Of that notorious " cap " without a name— Monstrous extinguisher he wished, ' tis said, Once to clap on the British soldier's head ! In days of yore, if rumuor speaks the truth. When Gotba held the interesting youth, Ere Vic had loved, or BULL supplied the cash With which the meek Adonis cuts a dash, No doubts perplexing felt he what to wear— His toilet was a very plain affair; Confined— as Coburg of but mean repute— To one old- fashioned, rather seedy suit. This Royal ball set all the town agog, It was a fete all other fetes to flog. God knows the tricks, the meannesses, the lies Employed, an invitation to surprise ; Knees that had never knelt to GOD in prayer, Would to old Nick have knelt, in their despair, If Satan could have got them an invite Among the other tawdry fools, that night. Estates were mortgaged, money- lenders sought, To raise " the needful" for this spree at Court; The clumsiest legs were diligently set To kick and practise in the minuet. Old hags forgot their rheumatism's pain, And daubed and patched their faces young again ; While Beauty gave its favours as reward, To any fop who could procure a card. Such is the world, should any mighty name A saturnalia to the town proclaim ; It matters not how ludicrous the show, All heads arc turned, all bosoms wildly glow ; Religion, virtue, decency, and pride Are by these masqueraders laid aside, And like PANURUE'S imitative sheep, Each fool pursues his predecessor's leap. There may be thousands pining in the land, Yet Fashion stretches not her jewelled hand; There may be thousands languishing for bread, Fashion averts its plume- surmounted head ; But let sonic 6ccne of dissipation glare, And lords and ladies will be clustering there, Careless of all hut melody and dance, As though no Deity's avenging glance Looked on their acts : as though, in yonder sky, GOD did not hear their starving brothers cry 1 The time arrived, the night of folly came ; Gewgaws and jewels glittered like like a ( lame ; Music rang through the Palace with its spells, While beaux grotesque, and masquerading belles, Wearing the dress, the powder, the grimace Of other days, but not the courtly grace, Tripped, danced, and shuffled o'er the groaning floor, Aping the nincompoops of days of yore. And lol great ARTHUR, that illustrious chief, Whose name victorious upon history's leaf Inscribed in gory pride, posterity With admiration most intense shall see— That General, horn beneath a lucky star, Who, by his courage and his skill in war— Thanks to old BLUOHER and his Prussians too— Vanquished the Corsican at Waterloo ; ARTHUR, the statesman, prudent and profound, Among the crew effeminate was found '. There must be some attraction wondrous strong In courtly circles, with their callous throng, To alter thus a warrior's stubborn mood, And deck in fancy dress, decrepitude; To make a hero of the tented field, With head and heart to gentle feelings steeled, Lead, thus transformed— weak, frivolous old man- In Palace antics— not in war— the van 1 It was preserved for this our polished age, To see recorded on satiric page, Just the reverse of iEsor's well- known talc, Which not a child to recollect can fail. An ass, he told us, once intent ! o win Fame and renown, put on a lion's skin ; While ARTHUR was, when to that ball he hied, The " lion " putting on " the ass's" hide! At that same ball, exclusive as the list Was said to be, it yet must be confessed There was no lack of canaille at the sport, Smuggled in, doubtless, by a " friend at court." Sir JULIUS and his Lucy, too, were there— Thanks to Lord ALFRED'S patronising care, Who went himself, and very kindly had Got them invited through his noble dad. LUCY, as usual, all the rest surpassed In grace and beauty. Love was warming fast Her gentle bosom, and his magic power Can add fresh brightness to the brightest flower. That wild enchanter's witchery can throw U^ on the plainest features his own glow, And with the ray he kindles from the heart, Lend an expression unapproached by art! Yes, LUCY loved, and loved with all the fire Which in a woman's bosom can inspire That yearning want of harmony and bliss, Which pines for Eden in a world like this ; That ceaseless'craving for some cherished thing Round which its arms, to which its heart, can cling ; That restless palpitation of the soul Which pants for passion as its destined goal; That thrill of sympathy which ever draws Her gentle nature by unerring laws To seek another nature, other breast, Where she can lay her head and heart to rest; That deop and gushing tenderness which still Will force its way, repress it as you will; Pure in the mother's, in the sister's veins, And in the mistress, lava while it reigns! Oh ! there is nothing like it upon earth, No gem to rival half its glorious worth— That love of woman which around you throws Its dazzling armour, and defies your foes ; That love which sheds its brightness on your path, Undimmed by scorn, indifference, and wrath; That love which from your pillow plucks the thorns, And your hard conch with all its flowers adorns; That love which guilt may sully at its source, But which still rushes with impetuous force, The choicest blossom of our dreary sod ; That love which tempted once the " sons of GOD ;" That love which, when Omnipotence foresaw How man would suffer ' neath the world's dark law, From Heaven was sent, sweet messenger, to fling On our cold winter all the sun of spring. Yes, LUCY loved, and from that love she found A brighter charm in everything around ; More lightly coursed the young blood in her veins, And as a miser hoards his smallest gains, Each look, each word, each whisper of his voice, Made every pulse in ecstacy rejoice. There seemed a new enchantment in each scene— The sense of pleasure had become more kefih ; The song was sweeter when to him ' twas sung ; The dance more witching when to him she clung. When darkness parted them, her very prayer Seemed holier now, because his name was there ; Slumber in dreams brought back his graceful form, His murmured phrases, and his glances warm. When morning dawned upon her languid eyes, With restless agitation she would rise ; While sylphs around her toilet seemed to say— " LUCY, be fair, for he will come to- day !" And, oh ! how much she execrated now The rights inherent in the marriage vow— Which gave her. body's desecrated charms To FATHEAD'S lawful but detested arms! Oh, how she loathed the booby, when he pressed His lips to her's— how shuddered when caressed! Though had the lover shared her couch at night, She would have felt— while giving him— delight. 2 PAUL PRY ; THE REFORMER OF THE AGE. Sir JULIUS was not delicate enough To see in LUCY'S coldness a rebuff; Though tbe Signora ruled him, still ' twas strange He sometimes fancied LUCY— as a change ! That very coldness seemed to piqae his flame, Which from too free enjoyment had grown tame ; And oftefi, to his wife's extreme disgust, Forced to submit, as lawful ladies must, He made her bed his own, and on those nights, Insisted, horrid fellow ! on his rights. Meanwhile Lord ALFRED watched with zea. ous eye His plans fast'growing to maturity ; His great experience at a look perceived The love he acted was by ber believed. Each change that o'er her countenance had passed, Each tell- tale blush, more brilliant than the last; The glance averted, and the sudden sfert; All testimonies of the restless heart, Though adding lustre to her loveliness, Were marked by him as omens of success. Oh, FATHEAD ! FATHEAD ! be upon your guard, Or RHODOMONT will play the winning card. Young wives, Sir JULIUS, are most ticklish things, And woman's honour easily takes wings. Fetter the breeze, the freeborn savage bind, Youi1 chains will never hold a lady's mind. A breath, a whim, a fancy, a caprice, Will ruffle wedlock's calm and mill pond peace ; Upset at once the castle you have raised ; Knock down the happy home on which you gazed. And on your forehead— sight enough to vex—• Plant horns, the trophy of the fickle sex ! END OR THE THIRD CANTO. THE MURDERER FOUND! NOTORIOUS HOUSES. ALL NATIONS, WATER LANE, SHEFFIELD. THIS is a house that is well known in and around Sheffield for notorious characters; and, indeed, the stranger in passing would shun it, for its outward appearance and the locality where it is placed would be sufficient to warn him from the filthy den. This is one of the places of resort for vi'lany in every shape. The prostitute brings her victim to this lt « ,. <>, and plies him well with drink at bis own expense ; and when once he. has got enough for her purpose, he is led away to a neighbouring house, where her " bully " follows, and both join in stripping him of every article, even taking the clothing from his person, and shoving him out to the street, while the " bully " elopes with the booty, and disposes of it in another direction. It is not long since one of these miserable beings picked up an elderly man in the street, and conducted, hi " toller home; on tli-.; way, she met her ac- complice ii. e- i i e, and told liim how lie was to proce d. At length they entered the house and shut, the door ; no sooner had they entered, than her partner held the door close by thebandle outside, while she by main force robbed him of liis watch and purse. As soon as tbe deed was done, she gave the signal and the door was opened, wnile she bo need out ai d disappeared up one of the neighbouring lanes. As soon as the old man had recovered from his surprise, he rushed out after her, and inet her " bul y " right in the teeth ; he inquired what was wronsf, and was- informed how he had been robbed in that house ( pointing to il). The sym- pathising stranger then told him that he thought he cou d show him where to find her. He led the way to a lane wlieie nothing but brothels are to be found ; and as soon as the case became known, the whole of the tribe got up the hue and cry against the " old fool," as they called him, and nearly drowned him with water before he escaped from tlieir grasp. In this sink of iniquity a night seldom passes without a quarrel, which ends in one of those revolting scenes which are not to be seen in any other pait of the world, save this and the neighbour- ing coun; y. As soon as it is settled that they are to fight, a ring is formed and the combatants agree whether it is to be " upe an' dawn " or" not, but it generally comes off in what they call " hack, bollick, an' bite," that is, box, kick, and bite. As soon as this is settled, they lower their heads like two bulls, and watch an op- portunity of rushing upon each other, so as to get undermost. The one that succeeds then pitches the other over his head, and by the time he reaches the floor, the other is ready with hisyron- toed clogs to poonce ( kick) him about the head, or whatever part is most convenient. The one that is down then tries to get a grip of his opponent's leg, and brings him to the floor also. As soon as they are both down, they try to get a hold of tbe other's nose or ear with their teeth. Others have the knack of twisting their knuckles into the eye, and sending the ball right out 011 to the cheek. When either party is beaten, they hold up their hand in token of submission; but they are 110 sooner done, than a general onset takes place, which ends in a few bruised heads and black* ned faces. We were interrupted in taking our notes by a scene like this, and we were glad to make our escape without further in- formation. SCORPION. * CHAPTER III. ( CONTINUED.) " Hark ye!'' said he, frowning, " it can be managed, I see that,; but it must be managed without touching that child," meaning me.- He spoke this, not out of pity, but fear— not out of compunction, but to avoid more crime that he must answer for. He was guilty, but did not wish to be proved so before a jury. During this period, surmises and suspicions were afloat in the minds of people. My father's sudden disappearance bad given rise to a host of idle tales, which were . multiplied each time they were repeated ; and though Charles still continued to visit my mother, it was done with such caution, at such times, that, as yet, these visits had not been noticed. * The servants had been changed. Those who were there then, had nothing- but rumour to feed upon ; but the tale of implied in- sanity of my father was believed ; and, on the whole, it was sup- posed that, in some sudden fit, he had absented himself, and would return, sooner or later, to claim his gold, and— his child, if not his wife. Whenever Charles visited tbe house, the servants were kept so closely out of the way, that they had little or no idea of anything being internally wrong; and as they, the two criminals, were, after all, cautious, they had 110 fear. But, on this night, Charles's rapacity arose with his brutality, and . lie had prpce. eded almost to'tl blow before the last alterca- tion; but the quiet words of my mother were succeeded by a sul- len pause, during which he occupied himself with drinking. " Well," lie demanded at last, " when are you going to let me have what I require ?" " Have patience a little while— yon'must take supper first." Her voice was firm and steady while she spoke, and she went to a side- board where some meat was placed, and before producing it, took a cruet- stand from a cupboard, and, after the delay of a moment or two, sprinkled it over from the pepper- castor, and coldly placed it before him. " Come," said she," begin, you must be hungry; after that, a little rest will refresh you, and you can then depart, if you will." " What the devil is all this you've put over the meat ?" asked he surlily, as lie looked at the thin itvhite powder upon it ; " I am not hungry, take it away." With a cold frigid smile, she obeyed him, and placing the meat in the cupboard, locked it, and put the keys in her pocket. " Do you know that you are behaving very unaccountably this evening?" said he, in a half wonderment; " why do you take away the supper?" " You said you would not have any," returned she with a smile, though her lips were livid. " But, what the deuce ! can't a man change his mind if he likes?" retui'ii'd the other. " If I were not assured that you were so doatingly fond of me," added he, with an effrontery of self- con- fidence, " 1 should suspect, you." " Suspect me of what ?'' " Never mind-— aw— jaw"— and he yawned heavily. " I'll go and lie down a bit, for I am deucedly sleepy." And without any ceremony be walked across into a chamber opening from tile parlour, which had been made into a bedroom. Here he took off his clothes, flung himself down, and was fast locked in a dead sleep in a few minutes. No sooner did his deep snorting give unequivocal evidence that he was lost in the unconscious oblivion of a drunker, slumber, than snatching her portfolio, she hastily sat down to the table aud began ti write. The pen was dipped in the inkstand, when she paused, but she woro upon her features some expression like that on the face of Macbeth's wife. Conquering her resolution, she wrote as fellows :— " Meet? no. in street, by the river side, in Pedlar's acre, tlje day after to- morrow, in the evening, before the moon rises. I have something important to communicate to you ; bring this with you that I may be convinced you are the right party." ADVERTISING REFERENCE SHOPS. SOME time ago we had occasion to refer to the practices resorted to at these scandalous abodes of extortion, where the poor hard- working clerk or mechanic is robbed in the most barefaced manner with impunity. Another instance has just fallen under our notice. A friend of ours put an advertisement in a newspaper a short time since, and ( unconscious of their character) gave the address at one of these dens, not far from Cripplegate church. On call- ing for his letters, he was told he could not have them, as, on con- sideration, the proprietor did not approve of the advertisement; and on remonstrating with the fellow in the shop upon the mode of business adopted there, he was assailed with all kinds of abuse, and told, " he had better get a warrant out"— these fellows, knowing, of course, that the felony could hardly ever be proved. Guessing what the fellow was driving at, however, our friend called the next day ( having in the meantime received a hint or two), and asked whether it was money they wanted? when, without any ceremony about it, the fellow said, that if our friend chose to pay half a sovereign, lie might have his letters, and not otherwise. ( It will be understood that the fee professed to be charged is Is.) However, to prevent trouble, the 10s. was agreed to be paid, and the letters were to be " got" for our friend by the next morning. He went several times to 110 purpose; at last, he was told that they could not get them for him for that sum; and hinted that something more must be forthcoming ! Fortunately, the purpose of the advertisement had been fulfilled in another way, so that nothing more was offered, aud the letters are in tho possession of these scamps at this moment. Surely, such vagabonds can only require exposure to be annihilated. In our friend's ease, it so happened that the expense of the advertisement was of no moment ; but the nature of the swindle is good evidence that the dupes are more often of that class who risk, perhaps, their last half sovereign in an advertisement, and then get mercilessly robbed of the a '. vantages of it by a clique of tbe most despica- ble scamps that ever infested the metropolis. We have in our possession several proofs of the villany of these advertising depots, and will publish the names and residences of the scamps in full to guard the unwary from their thievish fangs. ' This was signed with her own initials, which I suppress for various reasons, the time for disclosing them not being yet arrived, and was directed to Bill Blood, under a different name, at ti low tavern, where she knew it would find him, and then— then she paused. For, with an expression of agony and suffering — with a bitter shivering sigh— with a hopeless wringing of the hands— she moaned—" He loathes me, hates me; well, let him take the reward of his falsehood,"— and then hesitated no more. • There is a study familiar to the women of Italy— and to them more peculiarly, though such soaring geniuses in the regions of crime as Madame Bi iuvilliers have introduced it into France— and that is the study of poisons. What the celebrated aqua tofana is, I, my good reader, know well, but, I have my own reasons for keeping that knowledge from yon. Brueine, however, is the base of it; but if it is not manufactured into a white and almost im- palpable powder, it is almost a contemptible affair, as vulgar as arsenic, t'- iat any dullard ought to be able to guard against. I can devour arsenic with ease, and make it innoxious, by means of an infallible antidote I have discovered,, but you— it will kill you instantly, and serve you right for being poisoned with such paltry stuff. Be that as it may, my mother was an adept at brewing these almost infernal decoctions, and, accordingly, when the sleeper was beginning to stir, and the letter folded and directed, she went to a secret cabinet of hers, and took from thence a small phial,' with which she entered into the chamber where Charles lay, just at the moment he was beginning to rouse and ask for something to drink. The subtle liquor was poured into a goblet which stood upon upon tbe table; in a single moment it was infused throughout the whole liquid, and my mother, as Charles raised himself up, and demanded something to drink, handed the glass, which lie drank dry without a moment's hesitation. As he handed the glass back to my mother, liis eye caught hers, and the horrible truth struck him in a moment. He would have leaped up ® n her, but his limbs grew heavy as lead. He would have cursed her, but his tongue clove to the roof of his mouth. He felt no pain, but the lassitude of death seized him. With a white and pallid face, the murderess stood over him for an hour. She even rejoiced over what she once so much dreaded should pass— their parting for ever. * * $ Stf * * On the morning after, the form of Bill Blood, though the features were almost undistinguishable, was picked up, below the bridges, dead— a hideous gap in his throat, showing the means by which the awful deed of vengeance or hate was committed. From the persons of Charles, and of Bill Blood every paper bad been taken, so that no clue was given. By what means it is unne- cessary to detail, but Charles had been taken to some house after having been picked up in the road— dead drunk— as was thought; they tried to resuscitate him, but all their efforts were vain. By the morning he was dead. The coroner's jury brought in a verdict of apoplexy, caused by excessive drinking. In the mean time, my mother, paler and paler day by day, continued to suckle and execrate me by turns, and I grew up as you, good reader, shall hear in due course. I have, in these pre- liminary chapters, broken the ice. [ To be continued.] NORWICH.— Mr. Nunn has opened the A del phi Theatre, Vic toria Gardens, with a good company. Mr. M. Hill is an uncom- mon good low comedian. Mrs. Nunn is also a very clever woman. THEATRE ROYAL.— Mr. Davenport has opened here with a very mild oompany. The Norwich people don't seem to like him— he is no use here. The sooner he closes the better— he has only- opened for a fortnight, so its quite long enough. L— y W— n met the warbling waggoner one day, and said, " If they stop the piano at the Cyder Cellars, what will R— ss be without music ?" The warbling waggoner requested a couple of hours to think of an answer. The lanky squawker took a short walk and a baked- tater iu the street, and called again. Whereupon the waggoner said, " Yer wants to know what R— ss, the blasphemous singer, would be arout music— I wants to know what he is with it ?" PAUL ADVISES Y— k, tho carpenter of the Imperial Saw Mills, Wenlock road, City road, not to think he can get the boys the sack whenever he thinks proper. Mr. J— h, the butcher's man of Wapping Wall, to keep liis wife from hornpipe dancing, as he is very jealous of her. The carpenter, J— n M— 0, of Upper street, Islington, to mind his own business, and not bounce quite so much, as perhaps lie may come to bread and cheese dinners and journeyman's wages again. H— y M— y, of the Cardogan Iron Foundry, Chelsea, to look a little more after the dressmaker in Church street, and not tell people that he lias so much influence with the pretty little darlc- iiaired girl on tlje Terrace. He must remember the handsome upholsterer is before him, although he thinks so much of himself. A certain gentleman of Riley street, Chelsea, not to walk out tlie dressmaker one evening and Miss K— e another. S— H—, of Peter's hill, Doctors' Commons, not to- be seen walking out every night in her silks and satins with that young man at a certain house in St. Paul's churchyard. The would- be cookshop man, not to waste so much time at the cigar- shop in Oakley street, Lambeth, and not to be seen with Miss L— g. Mr. G—, the tallow chandler's carman, Thomas street, Hack- ney road, not to go to a certain place in Old street so much. H— t W— v, not to pretend to be so sweet upon a gentleman in the City, and not to come the sentimental so much when in his company at a certain coffee house in Panton street, as we know it to be all nonsense. Mr. J— 11 P— r, Painter, King street, Camden Town, to stick more to his painting, and not run so much after that sour- looking barmaid at the King's Arms, in the same street. Mrs. F— t, of Albion street, Rotherhithe, not to trouble her head so much with the apprentices opposite. Does the old man remember the barley aboard the barge, which caused his pro- motion. Mrs. W— s, alias Brimstone, of Earl street, Finsbury, to staya little more at home with her poor old mother instead of taking her drains of " blue ruin " 111 the Bar Parlour of " The White Hart." Be careful young lady, or we shall acquaint " The Sons of the Clergy" of your goings on. Mr. H— t, the wood- turner of Eyre street hill, Leather lane, not to appear quite so large in the eyes of his neighbours. It may be all very well at widow B— l's, the Coach and Horses, op- posite, but he may rely on it, that everywhere else he counts but as one humble individual. How does ho got on at dancing ? Mr. K— n, of the new. butter shop, corner of Greville street, Leather lane, not to watch every person who may choose to take half- a- pint of beer at the Leather Bottle, afterwards informing their employers, for the purpose, of doing them an injury. We have not forgotten the nasty trick of putting a bill up to let the above house as a baker's, which was intended evidently to annoy an old inhabitant at the opposite corner. Mr. C— s A— y, of Seckforde street, Clerkenwell, to go home after leaving St. Luke's workhouse at night, instead of boasting in the Eagle, City road, before the naughty women, of the large sums he has lent the overseers of the parish. He really should remember the fish- stall at the corner of Union buildings, Leather Lane, and a party who still stands in that locality. If he does not, Paul will refresh his memory. Miss S— a S— n, of Bull and Mouth street, St. Martin's- le- Grand not to be seen with so many young men. W. C— y, the Harp Demon of the Dancing- room, Fann street, Aldersgate street, not to make such a horrible noise on tbe instru- ment. We wonderMr. C— does not get a man who is a musician. J. W— t, of Love lane, Tower Btreet, not to fancy he can sing and dance, and not to be so large 011 a Sunday evening when in the company of men. How about the poor Irish girl of Thames street. R— t J— n, of Bull and Mouth street, St. Martin's le Grand, to shut the street door before he embraces the voung woman who opens it for him, when he returns home. The beer- shop keeper ( the Falcon), J— s S— t, Lower terrace, Islington, to be more civil to his customers, as there are plenty more shops besides his. Mrs. L— e, the butcher's wife of Moctcombe street, Belgrave square, to treat her old servant, George, a little better, after serving them for ten years. Mr. N— t H— 1, milkman and beer- shop keeper, of Mape street, Bethnal green, to behave better to a really good wife. We know what he brought from France, and of the affair with Mrs. C— e, of Poriek lane. Having occasion to call sometimes in Tho- mas street, he may expect us to make some further inquiry. At present Paul is lenient. Mr. W. E. J— n, coal merchant, Abingdon street, Westminster, to attend more to his business, and not play so much with tbe kittens, as they are very dangerous when their claws are long. Mr. S— h, the bricklayer, of Britannia street, City road, to look out for the pot- boy's place at the Crown and Sceptre. Mrs. B— 1 not to live with a married man at a certain ball not far from the Bank; likewise not to be seen at uncle F—' s so much. The tall boy, of Keppel street, Chelsea ( S. K— t), not to be so fond of strolling out on Sunday mornings with certain snob's boys, and indulging in sundry games of cribbage at the Jerry shop op- posite. Recollect the profits on mangling are not " what they used to was." Young B— 11 S— t, of Camden Town, to discontinue his visits to the servant girl; on whom he calls so frequently on his way from work. He is too young for such things yet. Ilis " mar-' m- lor" had better keep her eye on him. T— k G— e, driver of a Tottenham omnibus, not to get so beastly intoxicated as to be obliged to be putin a water- trough to cool him. G. W— li, foreman at the Bell and Hare, Tottenham, to follow ' his own business, instead of cutting his brother Tom out of his situation. W. T— n, of Lower Thames street, near the Custom- house, not to think himself above bis shopniates; for he is not everybody, if his master did seud him to Bristol. Mr. D— e, the boxkeeper at the City theatre, to attend to his own affairs, and not interfere with other people's in future. Miss J— n, of Green Coat Row, Westminster, not to run out and meet the tally man, paying him his shilling to keep him from the house. G— e S— s, of a certain lithographic printing office, in Gate street, Lincoln's Inn fields, not to poke his nose into other people's pots. . R— t Bf— h, the would- be accordion player, of Gibson street, Waterloo road, not to be such a conceited puppy. 2 PAUL PRY ; THE REFORMER OF THE AGE. s 1 W— t, who works at Messrs. N— g and Co.' s, pianoforte manufacturers, Great TitchBeld street, not to waste so much time and money in playing at skittles and bagatelle. It would be better for him to attend to his work and look at home. J n, the potman at the John of Jerusalem, Rosamon street, Clerkenwell, not to think quite so much of himself because he assisted a little in the cellar works during his master's illness. The potman at a public- house in Earl street, Finsbury, to be just in his actions towards his mistress, as there is a watchful eye over his proceedings. Miss A. R—, the old maid at the Red Lion, Blackman street, Suffolk street, to bo more civil to her master's customers, and not to get fuddled, us it is our opinion that she does. D— r, of Windsor street, Islington, not to be so proud, considering that he wears left off clothes. Mrs. F— r, of Black wall, not to spread such false reports about the family in which she is living. In fact, we do not believe a word of the matter. Also not to talk so much about what she has saved the honourable gentleman. Mrs. T— r, of Red Lion Court, Fleet street, not to let her youngest daughter go to so many twopenny hops with the young men. joe w— d, the knowing fiddler, of College street, Chelsea, not to brag quite so much about the opera. Also to take that ugly great board down from over the door. How about little Mary and the owl ? Mr. E— d N— 11, of the Blue Anchor road, Bermondsey, not to bo so fond of dancing, but to attend more to the dark- eyed girl. How about Miss P— e, of the same road ? Miss M— y, of Guilford street, Southwark, not to be seen taking men home at all hours of the night, or we shall tell a certain gentleman. C— H— R— e, generally known as Charley R— e, of White . Conduit notoriety, a very fast man, not to be so vain of his pre- possessing appearance, nor to think so much of bis baritone voice, as although it is good, his conceit in the " Standard Bearer," and other operatic songs, takes the gold off the gingerbread. YV— n, alias the Finsbury Hog, not a hundred miles from Fins- bury Market, to look a little more after his modest (?) daughter, and not to allow her to frequent the two- penny concerts in Shoreditch three times a week, nor to come out in black satins on a Sunday evening. Mr. E— s J— s, of King street, Clerkenwell, to alter his mode. Paul thinks of late he has been going beyond all bounds. Re- member your home a little more. Although you have no children, you have a good little wife, and he wishes to see you treat her with tho respect she deserves. H— y W— k, of the free- trade butter depot, near the Angel, and opposite the Bluecoat Boy, Islington, not to brag so much about his master's large business, but to learn to speak the truth. It is true his master has a good trade, and well deserves it. Paul really buys his " tenpenny salt'' regularly at the Islington depot. Little John, alias the Travelling Barber, near Darkhouse lane, Billingsgate, to be more civil to his master's customers, and not to be so fond of telling tales in the kitchen. Mrs. P— r, of Billingsgate, not to think so much of herself while crossing the river with William, " What an idea!' Miss M— y F— d, of the Tar yard, Bermondsey, not to be seen so often in Lemon street, after the policemen. She does not think P. R— n enough, but. she must have two or three at Rotherhijhe station. My pretty milk- maid, do think a little more of your father's death. Mr. M— s, shopman to Mr. S— h, hosier, of Blackman street, Borough, not to be seen so much at Marshalsea place, Angle place, Borough, on Sundays in particular, with his meerscham. Mrs. II. B—, of Princes street, Mile End New Town, not to keep the ladies waiting so long while she is gone to the King's Head, Baker's row. G— e G— s, the butcher boy, of Gray's place, Brompton, not to be seen so often with the girl in the red shawl; and not to have her under his arm when he goes round for orders. How about the park job on a Sunday evening? Mrs. L— yjstraw bonnet builder, of Stringer's row, Rotherhithe, not to open her lodger's letters for the future, to gratify her curiosity as to the contents, and then seal them up again. Like- wise, tiot to make, quite so free with the tea- pot, as we are quite sure it contains something stronger than fine young Hyson. Mrs. H— m, of the Cobhatn's Head coffee house, opposite the House of Correction, Clerkenwell, to increase her stock of civility, as it costs nothing ; and not be above giving a stranger who may enter to ask a question, a proper answer. Paul also thinks that if. one of the worthies in the habit of using this shop ( commonly called Long Tom Coffin, or the Cobhum's head barrister) was not to be quite so fast, nor so fond of poking his nose into other peo- ple's affairs, it would be better for his health. Mrs. P., of the Wellington, Barnsbtfry park, not to drink, as it docs not look well in a publican's wife; also, to get rid of a little of '; er pride. Remember what you were, Mrs. P. G. H— e, tailor, living near Fleet street, not to swindle people out of their money, and then laugh at them. How about the coat bought at Moses and Son, ancl marked 95 c. p. 35, and palmed upon the Borough omnibus conductor for £ 4. Look out, sir, Paul will give you a whipping up. r:— s G— s, alias the little hairy man, of Windmill street, not to fancy every girl is in love with him, and not to be seen sticking at the " post corner of Brewer street, winking at every respectable female that passes by. How about Miss P— r? Jiick R— n, alias the Flash Snob, not to be seen lurking about Queen street so often, nobody wants him there, as Miss B— y has given him up for the little straight- haired lad. J— n K— t, of Poulteney street, the flash shirt maker, or would- be " fast man," not to stop out all night, as it does not look well in a boy, and not to use disgusting language to the workmen. How about Abraham's wife Sarah, of Avery row? G. B— n, the conceited smudger, often in Enderson's cigar shop in Praed street, Paddington, not to brag about his graining so much and not to boast about putting people in PAUL PRY. The marine store dealer, of Eyre street Hill, not to accuse honest hard- working men of being thieve ; sif there were no receivers there would be no thieves. The teacher of the. French language, attending principally on reverend gentlemen, who lives in the Old Kent road, to behave with more decency before his female servants. Also, his wife to ; remember that young girls of 14 or 15 years of age ought to have M— n H. L— 1, of the Ship and Billet, Greenwich, not to be so chatty with people behind the bar, and to mind his own business a little more. J. K— 1, the linendraper, of Stockwell street, Greenwich, to mind what he is about with the little nursema'd. WOOLWICH.— Miss E. L— 1, of Kidd street, Woolwich, not to running all over the town every night. No wonfilr the engineer or the cabinet maker will have nothing to say to her. I. H— n. the printer's boy, of Edward street, Woolwich, not to go to the Bazaar in Thomas street, smoking his cigar, for it does not look well in a boy. H. M— n, of Woolwich factory, not to be " so fast. " Does he re- member the time when he had but one suit of clothes to his back? J. H— n, of Edward street, Woolwich, to go back to his work, for the pieman is afraid he will lose his custom if he does not. ESSEX. The conductors and coachmen, who congregate at the door of the Swan, at Stratford, to make a little more room for the people to and fro, and not to insult the females as they pass and re- pass ; or perhaps some of them may have a pound or two of oakum to pick. Certain young men, working at a confectioner's not far from the Blue Boar, at Stratford, not to be seen in the streets smoking short pipes. The landlord of the Roebuck, Bucket's hill, Woodford, not to try to poison people when at a steeple chase, with his British brandy. W— m R— n, the Newcastle chairmaker, at the Eastern Coun- ties Railway, not to think every girl is in love With him at Strat- ford. He has no occasion to think of running away with the ladder- maker's daughter at Bow. They know all about it; there- fore, you had better not practice that jackdaw language so much, old boy. That conceited young fellow at Mr. I— n's the grocer's, Bow, to mind his own business, and not trouble himself about other people's. Does he remember the thrashing he had in the Mile end road. Miss C— n, alias the Dark Angel, of West Ham, notto strut so much when she gets a new dress on ; and not to allow so many young swells in the bar parlour. She may not mean harm, but harm may be made of it. S. II, of Devonshire street, Kennington lane, Lambeth, to turn j a good example set them. We have full particulars before us, and out herself, instead of allowing her poor mother to go to service, shall publish them unless their bad practices are altered. Mr. P—> ° f Milton street, Dorset square, and chapel- keeper of Brunswick chapel, Milton street, not to stand in the lobby . looking into the women's faces as they come into chapel. T. H— r, ( alias the Butcher's Boy,) foreman at the Loudon Docks, not to be such a conceited donkey. Does he forget the ' time when he used to come down to the gate with a butcher's smock on and utter such expressions as, " A day's work, please, j handy- man at the jigger, sir ?" Mrs. C— y, of Cotton's gardens, Hackney road, not to 9tand MIDDLESEX. Mr. D. D— n, butcher, of Kilburn, not to be seen walking with so many girls. Is he thinking to get moue. v ? We assure him he will [ not get one to pay for his shop; for Miss N— d is watching him. J— b, of the King's Arms, Fulham, to look a little more after the housemaid of Vauxhall, or he will lose her. Mr. X— d, the parson, of Teddington, late of Hampton Wick, behind the door telling her daughters, the cigar girls, to call ; not to make himself lord of the manor, by ordering the people to women old b— s. Miss R— n, the cigar girl, of Cotton's gardens, Hackney road, close their shops on Sunday. Mr. W— h, the proprietor of the Coach and Horses, Holloway, not to be so vain of herself, nor fancy that every young man is in not to drink more than seventeen glasses of gin- and- water of an love with her. Mr. M— n, not one hundred miles from the King's Arms, Bridge court, Westminster, to leave off betting, and stick to business, or we may notice him again. C. B— n, undertaker, of Great Portland street, near the Swan Tavern, to act upright to his men. E. B— u, Store street, Tottenham Court road, to use a few pots of blacking to his brown horses, before turning them out in his black vehicles, and take less chaff with him to the country. T. B— p, of Lamb's buildings, Bunhill row, to discontinue wearing his hair and beard so long, and not to impute to others things that he has been guilty of himself. Jack, the Strapper, alias J. S— s, of Vine street, Piccadilly, to be more civil ; and to discontinue running up public- house scores; to abstain from borrowing money from his equals, and more so from his inferiors— otherwise tho colonel und the lawyer might, on hearing of it, give him the black sack without permission of resignation. We are aware of Jack's doings, especially his nocturnal ones. People do not get pot- bellied ou red her- rings and potatoes, Jack, you know. J. R—, the butcher, of Charlton street, Somers town, to attend to his business, instead of running to and from his shop to the coffee- shop and public- house, telling lies and playing the lover to every girl he passes. How is it that he is so thick with his drunken neighbour L—, the marine store dealer, who is continu- ally beating liis wife? Mr. A— n, Wood turner, of Arthur street, Gray's Inn road, to pay more attention to his hungry apprentice. J— h R— h, of Fetter Lane, alias the " Conky Boy," alias " Pickaxe," to make better use of his hands, and not carry them in that disgusting position; also not to talk so much about his abilities at, the " Harmonic Meeting," held at the Wheatsheaf, in Holywell street. H— y C— n, of Star Court, Pickett Place, not to be so bounce- able at the Wheatsheaf with his large orders and canvass cash- bag; and not to sponge upon the servant there, allowing the poor girl to pay for gin and water, and cigars for him, in the tap room. The postman's wife, of Whiskin street, Clerkenwell, to put clean blinds ' up, as the present are a disgrace to the house. C. W— d, of Chapel street, Islington, to keep away from the lady in black in Matilda street, Islington. G— e F— g, of New Crane Dock yard, not to think the servants about the neighbourhood are iu love witli him. The Crooked Flunkey, at the Rectory, Hart street, Mark lane, City, notto pad his calves quitoso much; and the half- bred cook at the same place, not to show so much of her Irish temper. fj— y c— n, of the Wheatsheaf, Holywell Btreet, Strand, not to brag so much of his earnings. It is well known what lie is. G. L— g, the cock- housemaid of Pentonville Prison, not to think so much of himself, and to make his inexpressibles a little longer; as his grey stockings look very bad below them. It will not do in London, if it did in China. Mrs. F— n, of New Church road, Camberwell, not to visit the police courts so often. She had bettor save her money, and buy a pail or pan, than use a certain utensil to make her puddings and wash her greens in. M. II—, milliner anil dressmaker, Goat street, Horselydown, to pay more attention to her own business, and not be seen in the passage playing with lightermen. B— y B— m, the Dowgate printer, to be less boisterous, and not to make such fools of his friends. Mrs. M— e, of Bridgewater gardens, City, not to be seen walking about Charterhouse square with other women's husbands after leaving off work; but to go home and comfort poor Billy, as he 1 needs consolation. Fop J— s J. S— i, of Hoxton square, not to expose the letters at the Post- office in the Queen's road, or elsewhere, whioh he receives from his female acquaintances. He had better stick to quill- driving in the city, as he has no other dependence. evening, as it is highly injurious to his health. KENT. Miss N— n, who lives at a noted China shop in Dartford, not to wear that fancy bonnet when she goes out. Mr. B— f, ex- permit writer of Marsham street, Maidstone, to pay more attention to his chapel. Mrs. L— s, of Albion place, Maidstone, not to think so much of herself. Mrs. T— n, the painter's wife, of Blackheath hill, to pay more attention to her domestic affairs instead of sitting all day reading. Mr. B. Y—, the Irisb stonemason, at Mr. G. N— s, Lewisham, not, to talk so much of work that he knows nothing about. Does he forget t, be tloorhead at Peckham? J. H R—, bricklayer, not ten miles from Lewisham Nursery, to attend more to his father's business and less to the gardener s daughter. Mrs. F— r, of Charlton, not to drink so much rum. Mr. G— n, of Charlton, to keep his son Robert at home, and not allow him to go with the boiler maker's daughter ( Miss J— e L— e) to Greenwich so often. Does she remember the boy's whittle? Widow M— n, not to encourage her lazy son- in- law to take bricks for the purpose of building a school. Mrs. D— n, the ropemaker's wife, of Chatham, to mind her own business. Mrs. J— s, of Chatham, the fat old woman on the Brook, not to be seen with W— t, the Rigger. Mr. J— n D—- n, the ropemaker, of Chatham, not to be seen with Mrs. D— X, in the fair field. GRAVESEND.— A. M—, governess in a ladies' school living not 100 miles frotn Windmill street, to be select in the choice of her companions, more especially in those of the sterner sex.. John Y— e, the grocer, at H— n's shop, Gravesend, not to run after the girl with curls all down her face. J— n T— n, the grocer, of Graveseud, not to keep culling his hair as he is going along the street. T— s S— n, the bricklayer, of Gravesend, not to look after that girl at Northflcet so much. C— r f— e, of the Railway Station, not to spend half his nights and three parts of his earnings at the Canal Tavern, nor to take improper liberties with the landlady. Miss A. M—•, of New street, not to be seen walking so much with Mr. L—, the officer. DEPTFORD.— E— d J— n, of Hope Cottage, Lower road, not fo be so fond of running after all the girls, or stand smoking cigars in Johnson's, at the corner; it does not look well for a boy. How about E— r W— m, of the same road ? Mrs. J—, of the Railway Tavern, Hamilton street, Deptford, to look after her nephew's business a little more. H— y M. II— s, of Deptford, whose lodging is near the Fea- thers ( a pretended plumber and painter), not to visit New street nor yet Griffin street so much ; also not to go to a cert iin house in Edward street, with another pretended tradesman. How about four in one bed ? Miss M. P— e, of Broadway, Deptford, to wash her hands and face clean when she is going out, and not to fancy that every sailor or fisherman falls in love with her pretty face. GREENWICH.— Mr. P— s to spend more time with his wife and family at home, and not keep Miss S— h, alias Mrs. P— s, at Creed place. The two gentlemen proprietors of the Gloucester coffee- house, Greenwich, in future not so far to forget themselves as to trust their extensive business to a young woman that they had no cha- racter with. ( Fits versus gin.) The boy G— 1, of the Greenwich Lecture Hall, not to make such a donkey of himself, by trying to squeeze the ladies' hands when they oome for their books. G— e H— y. pawnbroker, near Greenwich church, not to fancy h imself such alady's man. SURREY. T—, Sergeant of the police force of Merton, not to get married on the sly again, but to do it openly. You are not afraid of any one. MITCHAM.— Miss L— k, the draper's daughter, of Upper Mitcham, to walk a little more upright, or we fear she will become round shouldered. T— s B— s, of Mitcham, to pay a little more attention to his wife on Sunday evening in church, instead of winking at the girls on the opposite side; and not to frequent Church lane quite so often. Adelaide Dodd, not to stick herself in the front pew every Sun- day to be looked at by the schoolmaster. Ann Jones, at Mr. Geary's, not to be so shy with keeping company with the Nottingham packer, as every one in the village knows- of it. Miss N— e, Mitcham, to go home when she leaves work at night, instead of walking out with the physic gardener's son. Pancake Sal, of Mitcham, not to go so often to the Ship to torment Pat R— 11, alias the nag. The two " bosom damsels," Miss W— e, and Miss C— e, both of Lower Mitcham, in their daily walks for flats, not to go so far, for its of little use. The proud young ladies at the Post- office, Upper Mitcham, not to think themselves so much above others, but remember that from " dust" they came, and unto dust they will return. W. G— r, the conceited young Johnny at the reverend gentle- man's, Morden lane, to pay more attention to the dashing young paper maker, of Constitution mills, and not quite so much to the little nurse and housemaid at Mr. F—' s, of Morden lane. BERKSHIRE. Mr. B— 1, cabinet maker, Bridge street, Maidenhead, not to attend the Harrow at North town so much. Mr., N— n, of High street, Maidenhead, to think a little more of his wife and child. He had better have them home again. F. C— e, of th<; Vine, Maidenhead, to be a little more civil and. obliging to his customers, and not to be seen so often at the Swan, W— m G— r, coalheaver, at M— s's, Eton, not to visit C— b's quite so much, nor to come home drunk and ill- use his wife; for it does not look manly. II— y A— n, of Eton, to fill his pints, and mind his own business. Miss S— li, of Market street, Maidenhead, not to be seen so often with Mr. J. P— e, of the same place. SUNDERLAND. J. T— n, cabinetmaker, alias the Man Monkey, not to brap; so much about his singing when he goes to a certain house in High street. Paul wants to know what you have done with that little red- haired girl you had at the villa the other night? in the hut, he means. Tom H— e, alias the Slashing Butcher, not to stand at the shop door, thinking to take the attention of all the ladies passing. How about making that young lass drunk at the Railway King? BISHOPWEARMOUTII.— Win. D— th, grocer, Moor street, notto expose the gold guard he wears quite so much. Has he paid for it? Don't be so conceited as to think all the girls are in love with you, or Paul, who has his eye upon you, will expose you further. BRISTOL. Mr. J— y, of Clare street, Bristol, to attend a little more to his father's business, instead of standing outside the shop door winking his little eyes to every girl that passes. Mr. J— s, the linendraper, of Wine street, Bristol ( known as the rag shop), not to expose those Cumberland hams in his window, as they look too greasy with ribbons and plate glass. Mr. G— n, of Castle green, not to treat his apprentices with such severity, as it only causes them to run away. Mrs. B— m not to preach so much about seeing her name in Paul Pry. C— d, of the Friars, not be so fond of blacking his wife's eyes. GLASGOW. P. B— n and Co., of Argyll street, to remember that the highest bidder is the buyer, and not to favor his old friend so much. R. T— 1 and B. S— h, pupils of Messrs. Rowland, not to show off Iheir gymnastic tricks upon the passengers. The late Miss G. K— r, having recently received a grant of considerable worth, to honour it, as we feel confident she will. A. H— t, of Broomelavv, not to forget the difference between household flour and seconds. A. M— ii, of Crown street, to leave off ogling the pretty widow. Have you forgotten Mary ? J. B— n, of Argyll street, not to oil his hair so much. Do comb those horrid whiskers. The late Miss M— n not to lose her sweet temper, although she is a little crabbed. J. N— 1, of Portland street, to attend more to business and less to the ladies. T. B— r, of Argyll street, not to be so fast ; do put a bar on your tongue. J. S— d to offer a large reward to any one who can really imi- tate his continental coffee— so good for the young, old, and de bilitated. J. D— k, of High street, Edinburgh, not to boast so much about cheap clothes. Do you remember the great coat you made so cheap for poor L ? PAUL PRY ; THE REFORMER OF THE AGE. PAUL WISHES TO KNOW Whether G. B— y, of Sutton place, Solio, means still to follow that coffee- shop girl in Oxford street, now he is keeping company with a respectable female of Walworth? Why J. B— m, of Princes street. Whitechapel, is always running after the girls at Billingsgate? Does he forget lie is a married man? Whether the churchwardens of St. Paul's, Shadwell, after having discharged the gravedigger, because his wife would not wash a flag gratuitously, and waste two whole days over it in getting it up in a proper manner, have obtained another individual to fill the vacant situation; and whether they pocketed the money they ought to have paid the poor woman? Also, whether they think the successor will remain 19 years in the situation, as his predecessor has done; and whether a very warm place below would not he theibest place for all such tyrannical wretches? Why Mr. J. H— s, of Upper East Smithfield, does not make his wife leave off the breeches? She will assuredly send him after one of her other husbands shortly, if he does not. Why G— e E— t, the stuck- up baker of Walworth, cannot be more civil to his father's customers? How about the girl at Caton place, Albany road, Old Kent road ? Why Mrs. B— d, of Church street, Amelia street, Walworth, keeps that pot boy? Let him get some employment, instead of re- ceiving the money from persons who are in the habit of frequenting your den. Consider the poor boy is nineteen, and you are only forty- five! What could have induced tbe long- nosed messenger of St. George's, south district, to have his portrait ( drawn with the vile badge of servitude on the collar) stuck in a shop window in the Borough road ? If the likeness is correct, the original must be frightful. Does he think any one will purchase the daub? Why Mr. A— s ( 130, L division, Lambeth), whose duty is round Astlej/ s Theatre, talks so much about being made Serjeant? Stop till you are one, Scotchy. Why S. E— y, alias Gutta Perclra, of Well street, Jermyn street, makes himself such a fool at St. Martin's lane— and why he will be poking his nose into other people's business?— also, when his friend Miss W— d, frequents St. Martin's lane, why she throws her arms round every chap's necks directly lie comes in the room? Why Miss E— a A— n, of West Hill, Wandsworth, does not attond a little more to her business, and not run so much after a certain'Mr. S-— s, of High street, Wandsworth? Why J. S—, of Fenchurch street, near the Red Lion, does not get married to Mrs. C— m? or else we will give you another look up. Why Mr, C— s, of Three tColt street, Limehouse, potato mer- chant, does not endeavour to satisfy his neighbours that he liws by some other means than the idleness he exhibits, by so fre- quently gossiping when his business ought to be attended to. Why J. G— r, junr., blacksmith, of Tooting, Surrey, does not clean himself on Sunday mornings, instead of sotting about with his long pipe, and crawling out at night as soon as it is dark, like an owl ? Whether A. J— s, bricklayer, of Tooting, Surrey, goes to the Wheatsheaf on a Sunday afternoon with the light haired girl close by ? Why the curly- headed boy, C. T—. at the Castle, in Tooting, Surrey, visits the corner so much ? It would look better of him if he paid more attention to his old sows and pigs and parlour. Why J. W— r, the harness maker, of Tooting, Surrey, visits the baker's round the corner 1 We wonder whether that young woman at Mitcham knows anything about it ? Whether J. D— y, runs after F. N— s, of Cross street, as much as he used ? How about E— r, of Hanover street ? Whether E— a A— s, of Acton place, Bagnigge Wells road, has made it all right with John S— 1; and whether she goes out on Sunday to beg dinner and tea as often as she did ? Whether Miss A. R— s, of Canton place, Albany road, had not better seek to unite herself with some honest mechanic ? How about the flash painter at Kennington lane ? Why II— o C— h, of Oxford street, Agar town, does not scrape those bristles oif his lip ?— Also, whether the sister of the same still keeps company with that knowing compositor ? Whether the churchwardens of St. Margaret's, Westminster, are " awake ?" and if so, what's the " time?" as the parish clock " ceases to move," and the parishioners miss it much. Why Mr. S— y, sailmaker, at Shadwell, allows his daughter to invite so many of the married men of the railway to the house? and why that flag is hoisted when any of the railway men get married ? When long Fred., the penny likeness- cutter, of Edgware road, will take his rags from Mr. F— t's exhibition in Holborn ? Whether it would not be better for Mr. W. K— y, the fat plumber, near St. Helen's, Bishopsgate street, to learn a great deal more grammar before he attempts to take the chair again at the White Dog ? and whether it would not be better to cease thinking of Miss B— n, of dust- contracting notoriety— as it is evident that there's no dust ( California dust) for him ? Why Mr. W— d, who is a very religious man, under such a cloak should wrong the poor about High street, Shoreditch, to such an extent ? Why does he not put a little meat in his sausages ? Whether Mrs. B— h, general outfitter, of Great Russell street, Bloomsbury, still continues to take the little black dog to bed with her ? and whether she has had more than ten servants the last year ? Why the grey- headed old leatherseller, of Skinner street, Somers Town, does not mind his business instead of pestering every young female with his ridiculous jokes ? Think of your sick wife at home. Why the Committee of the Gould square Institution, allow such meetings as the " Bachelors' Ball" to take place? Some of the members of the Institution do not introduce the most virtuous girls at the assembly, which keeps the most respectable of the members from attending. Paul supposes it is got up because the refreshments pay so well. Some of the " boys" who are on the committee, prefer such company as the above, to that of respectable females; Paul has his eye on some of them, particu- larly R— s, L— e, S— er, S— a, C— y, & c. PAUL PRY'S LETTER BAG. LOAN SOCIETIES. TO THE EDITOR OP PAUL PRY. PAUL PRY'S VISIT TO NORWICH FAIR, We journeyed to Norwich some short time back to have a peep at the good old city, and, finding that fair time was on, determined to pay a visit to the gay scene. When we arrived on the ground we perceived one or two theatrical booths, with a sparring ditto, and also one with performing hares and birds. A peep- show pro- prietor was shouting with stentorian lungs about a faithful re- presentation of the Stanfield Hall Tragedy, all to be seen at the low charge of one penny ! ! Abbott's Royal Pantheon, with a very respectable looking company, and three musicians, were attracting crowded audiences; whilst the Norwich Amateur Company, with a splendid orchestra, came in for its lion- share of patronage. Several bills were thrown to the lookers- on, and Paul fortunately possessed himself of one. The Brigand was the first part of the performance, which was very creditibly done : then we had some comic dancing by W. Tyler, ( which was quite a treat, by the way,) the whole concluding with a pantomime; Clown, Mr. Tyler; Pan- taloon, Mr. Rush ; Columbine, Mrs. Perry. Mr. Rush must not attempt Pantaloon again— he has no idea of the character. Mr. Tyler is a very good Clown, and will suit for out- door fun. We then made our way to Ben Clark's sparring booth, but were so disgusted with the motley assemblage, that we rushed out— gained a tavern— called for our usual— drank it— jumped into the Prince Albert ' bus, and made for the station. The train was waiting— off we went, delighted with the Norwich folk, who we found to be of that intellectual class that would not be without a copy of our immortal sheet for love or money. It is usual for cond uctors to go before : why in omnibuses do hey always go behind 1 Knowing that you lake m interest in tlie welfare of the hard- working and the poorer portion of society, whose very numbers are in themselves sufficient to aggravate the evils incidental to life, I wish to call your attention to one of the most scandalous abuses ( while, at the same time, it is almost beyond the reach of the law) that exists among us. When a man sees an organized, well- regulated, ( for its purposes) and completely- arranged plan for committing a wholesale robbery upon society, that portion in particular who work the hardest, and are the worst paid,— that mass of honest labourers, artizans, and small tradesmen who are always the victims, because so helpless,— when, I say, a man beholds this infamous system so actively at work under tbe designation of" Loan Societies," it is high time to speak, it is high time to expose these rascally machin- ations to the world— a world, so easily gulled, duped, and cheated, that it is dubious after all, whether warning will in reality do it good. It is, however, a duty to protest against the existence of such gangs, which are worse than any " Derby Sweep" or race- lottery that was ever made. It is must be evident to every man, that lending money is not a very thriving trade, ( I, of course, except the pawnbrokers.) Speaking generally, Mr. Editor, neither you nor I can afford to lend a dear friend a five or a twenty- pound note; but when you see in every tavern window, at the stalls in tbe streets, placarded about the walls, detailed to you in hand- bills officially thrust into your fingers,— when you see money lent from 51. to 100/., you may, perhaps, be amazed, either at the philanthropy of such individuals, or conclude that there must be some good reason for these golden promises ; that, in fact, it must pay well, aud so, in truth, it does. In every public- house in Long Acre, for instance, you see a " Loan Society," but, who ever got money from them ? who ever heard of their bank— their stock ? Is any one so blind as not to see through the shallow artifice ? Is not the bubble thin and transparent enough ? What publican, with a decent trade, would or could bother himself by lending out his money, the very use of which is worth more ( o him, in its interest, compounded and multiplied by trade. We do not mention Long Acre indi- vidually, but because the name camc first, and these places are so numerous. If it be said that these Societies are formed by persons not connected with the said taverns, but merely holding their office there, we reply, that if business, is worth doing at all, it is better to do it at an office purposely taken for it,— better to do it out of the tavern, where the poor fellow, who is compelled to borrow, worn and anxious, is only tempted to drink to allay his care, to increase his embarrassments— to be swindled out of more money— to be disappointed after all; it cannot cost him less than fifteen shillings or a pound between one thing and another. Not a hundred miles from Chandos- street, Covent- Garden, is an establishment of this kind, which thrives wonderfully upon the " inquiry money" left. The managing of this is_ a very simple affair. A tradesman hard pushed, because some unfeeling debtor neglects to pay to the time, goes to the office, as a last resource, for few ever go- willingly there, and demands a loan. A paper of instructions is given him, for which he must pay. He must also leave five shillings, in order to pay the person's time for making inquiries into tbe stability of the parties proposed as securities, for these men, to give an air of importance to tho whole affair, give as much trouble as possible— themselves taking little or none. They make the inquiry, and find the references responsible, good men— good in the sense of responsibility ; and the applicant then expects to get his money. No such tiling, it was never in- tended. They say that the references are not considered satis- factory to the Directors (?) or the principals, and the reply is, that the application is fruitless ; they decline to make the loan. If the party, astounded at this conclusion, expresses his astonish- ment, and asks for the deposithe has already paid, he is told that, according to the regulations which are before his eyes, the money is forfeited for the trouble they have taken. It is j ust equivalent to my going to a man, and taking his carpet- bag from him, carrying it as far as I please, and then demanding five shillings of him for my trouble. This society is said to be kept on foot for the sole purpose of obtaining the money : and as there may be fifteen or twenty in the course of a week, their nett gains may at the year's end average between two and three hundred pounds — a gigantic swindle that ought to be exterminated at once and for ever. There are some that are really what they profess to be— one at Westminster, one at St. Martin's- lane, one in Soho— but all of the respectable ones are not kept at public- houses. I cannot, how- ever, undertake to name all the exceptions. There is something so audaciously impudent in the idea of a set of useless fellows that hang upon the outskirts of^ society, sitting down over their brandy and water, and coolly contemplat- ing as universal a robbery as it is possible to commit without being liable to the charge of felony. We could pick out some dozen drab- coated gentry, whose lives are a great curse to their friends, whom nobody would miss, and whom we should like to see floating down the river in an old coal- barge riddled at the bottom like a sieve— all of them " members" of apocryphal " Loan Societies." Even in borrowing £ 5, you pay, first, for a paper, about 2d. ; for the inquiry, from 2s. to 5s.; for the stamp, from Is. and up- wards ; and an extra Id. or 2d. a week more in the shape of fines, besides five per cent.; in a word, you receive, instead of £ b, about £ 4, or at the most £ 4 2s. 6d., thus paying an interest that, thus compounded, becomes exorbitant beyond precedent. To be able to borrow a sum of money at a time of pressure is a boon that every little hard- pushed tradesman readily acknow- ledges ; and although there are cases where the pawnbroker is really a blessing, yet a man may be at that pass when he has nothing available to " raise the wind" by. Loan Societies are certainly useful; but the line between those - which are pure in their intentions, and those established by a parcel of sharking scoundrels for the purpose of preying upon the public, must and shall be drawn. The public journals detail now and then some rascally case which serves to open people's eyes to the evil of such societies; and if I, Mr. Editor, by this rather long letter, can place the said public the more on its guard, it will be better for it than it has been for, Sir, your humble servant, A VICTIM, PAUL'S VISIT TO DUMBARTON. HAVING often heard of the celebrated Town and Castle of Dumbarton, Paul ( on the occasion of his last visit to Glasgow) resolved to pay this ancient Scotch burgh a flying visit; not more for the purpose of beholding this strong fortress so famed in history, than to satisfy his mind with regard to the scarcely describable characteristics of its inhabitants. After gratifying himself with a splendid view from the top of the rock of the winding Clyde, the lofty aud majestic Ben- lomond, the distant burgh town of Greenock, and the lordly and placid Lochlomond, so well known to every lover of Scottish scenery, he was advised, as the thing next in importance, to inspect P. M'D— ll's menagerie. This collection of animated nature is indeed select, but Paul will content himself with merely mentioning the new additions lately made to this ex- hibition, consisting of specimens of different tribes supposed to bo entirely extinct, and other classes very rarely to be met with, lately discovered and imported at a great expense, chiefly from the forest of Lennox. On the north side of the menagerie, the first specimen is sup- posed to be an animal of the Fox kind, and from his cunning and ancient appearance yclept " Bobby." His amusing tricks, hand- some appearance, wonderful powers of card- playing, drinking, and every obscenity, cannot fail to strike the beholder with amazement and wonder. Tothe right of this animal, and next in rotation, is a specimen of the monkey tribe, called, by naturalists, the " The Chattering Man of Bohemia," but commonly called by his keepers, & c,, Chicketty. He is a strange creature, combining the different characteristics of the fool, the musician, and the man of business. His proficiency in mimicking his superiors is unmis- takeable. Still further to the right, we have a male speeimcn of the Mearns Moorfowl— imported at a vast expense. This truly handsome creature ( except his legs), is the last specimen. Proceeding still to the right hand, the animal in the next cage is a curious and rare species of the baboon tribe. From the head to the foot, when he stands upon his hind legs, he measures about six feet, and is of the pure " Galloway breed." At first glance tbe spectator would be led to suppose that this animal was vicious in the extreme; but on a more careful examination, he is found to be per fectly docile and tractable, and perfectly harmless, which has led to the animals in the adjoining cages taking advantage of his good nature. He is a good deal given to drink, and when in that state, chatters incessantly, shows his teeth, and " grins hor- ribly a ghastly smile." Last, yet not least worthy of noticc, is to be seen a splendid specimen of the Lennox Bear, and known by tho distinguishing appellative of " Sconey." He combines the conceit of a peacock with the proverbial stupidity of a " Jerusalem donkey." He is supposed to bo famed for his prowess in deeds of drinking and fighting ; but at what time be was put to the test no one knows, Paul had here to stop further inspection of this celebrated me- nagerie, and proceeded to the " King's Arms." He had scarcely made an attack on the " necessaries of life," when the bell of the steamer for Glasgow, was wafted on the breeze, shrill and dis- tinct ; to call for his bill, pay it, and, seizing his umbrella, to rush to the quay, was, with Paul, the work of a moment. CORRESPONDENCE. %* No letters whatever, town or country/, containing more than one advice, can - possibly be attended to; and all parties sending letters, may depend upon seeing tliem inprint in their regular turn. C. H. ( Mitcham).— Our correspondent should never despair— each letter is inserted in its regular course. JUSTITIA.— If you will have the kindness to eall at our offiGe, our pub- lisher will inform you. A WELL- WISHER ( Norwich).— Friday will suit us much better, as we are compelled to go to press on Monday. We receive your communications regularly, but have been out of town for a short time, which accounts for the slight neglect. We are always happy to hear from you. H. M— s ( Bridport).— We publish every Wednesday morning at seven o'clock; therefore, you ought to have your paper by Thursday morning. We cannot undertake to send single numbers into the country; but we shall feel obliged for any local intelligence you may please to send. It. C. ( Croydon).— Genuine bears' grease is about the best pomatum you can use for making the hair grow, but we really have no faith in anything to make it curl, unless the hair has a tendency that way. Your advice in regular order. J. JOHNSTON.— Your advice will be inserted in the regular order. CRONONHOTONTHOLOGOS.— We have not received the communications mentioned. ANN.— See notice to J. Johnston. JONATHAN WILD.— If you will have the goodness te refer to our first notice you will perceive the cause. SIGNOR CHARLTONI.— We were present at the Eagle, Mile- end, on the 25th of March, and were really disgusted with the whole of the company as- sembled. Whenever we attend such places we never enter with a flourish of trumpets; Paul goes incog. Mr. Burch raay be a noted hornpipe- dancer — but we do not consider throwing one's legs about in all directions danc- ing. We would advise him to take a few lessons from a Master Spratt, who, when he dances, don't move his legs at all. W. BLOCK ( Hackney- road).— Have the kindness to refer to notice, J. Johnston. G. E. 0.— None whatever. Have the goodness to refer to our first notice. J. H. W.— We are surprised that any person should write such a note as you have sent us; we should treat it with the contempt it merits, but for the fact of the reference to poor W. Blanchard. We were personally ac- quainted with him, and should have been happy to have done anything in our power towards raising some memento of his genuine worth. The party connected with Chaff, we believe, is named Norris, living somewhere in Fetter- lane, who, if any money was sent ( which, we have been informed was the case), is the party responsible. PAUL scorns a dirty action, and would much rather give his quota for an object of the kind than appro- priate one single farthing for his own use. You know us not, sir, and your contemptible scrawl is unworthy our notice, save for the 6ake of bringing the rascally transaction before the public. W « are sorry to say your facts are as shallow as your pate. A. B. AND E, C.— Your taking two copies will not entitle you to send us two advices. We make no distinction. To the P. S. of your letter— Yes. T. W. ( Brighton- place).— We cannot possibly undertake to send private letters in answer to letters left at our office. Your notice sent will be inserted in regular order, and any others you may please to send, keeping in your eye the notice at the top of correspondents. CAMRO.— Send us the articles— shall be happy to insert them if worthy a place in our columns. WALTER.— Mr. W. Winn, of Holywell street, will supply you with a No. 2. LYNX EYES.— We are sorry our correspondents should feel offended at our seeming neglect— his letters will be attended to. We do not answer every letter sent, because we have a general notice at the top of the correspondents, which answers the great majority of our contributors. MILES'S BOY ( Holloway).— In one of our last three numbers. SAUCY JACK.— Remember, Jack, " Faint heart never won fair lady;" at her again, and if she be made of penetrable stuff, and really did love you ere you went to plough the deep, there cannot be a doubt of your success. JOHN M. ( Brompton).— We have no recollection of receiving such a letter. Send again and it shall be punctually attended to. NERO ( Lewisliam).— Have the goodness to refer to our first notice. RASP.— We were compelled to condense your article, as our space is so confined. Let your nextbe somewhat shorter, " Brevity's the soulofwit," and you shall be gratified in seeing it printed entire. TOM SYKES, of Deriton.— Paul is now in Sheffield, and purposes a visit to the town of Birmingham, in the course of a few days; therefore, by perusing No. 25, you may rely on discovering he will have made those observations you so much desire. Look out, my boys, about the Bullring, Smallcomb- street, and Soho. *#* Our Correspondent of Dumbarton is thanked for his communication. We shall be happy to hear from him, as occasion may suit. NOTICE TO THE TRADE! The Only Publisher in the Neighbourhood who supplies the Trade early, properly, and with every Weekly Publication, Monthly Magazine, and Newspaper, is HA KRIS OA ( late DYSOS). 146, KINGSLAND ROAD. A large quantity of all the Back Numbers of every publication always kept in Stock, and everything counted in 13 as 12. Observe the Name and Address! HARRISON ( late DYSON), 146, KINGSLAND ROAD . Printed and published for the proprietors by G. EDWARDS, at the office, I 12, Russell court, Urydges street, Strand, where all cemmunicatkms to the Editor are to be addressed. i