MADAME WHARTON AS " APOLLO." CHARACTERISTIC SKETCHES.- No. II. Madame Wharton, who forms No. 2 of our " Characteristic Sketches," is about three or four- and- twonty years of age, and is a native of the sea- faring town of Hull, in Yorkshire, her maiden name being Harriet Hayes. Her father, " old Hayes," as he was • called, was well- known in the market- place, where he carried on business by his daughter, and many are the stories told of the dare- devil, larkish character of Miss Harriet. One, in particular, we have heard, which we consider worthy of recording. It ap- pears, that Miss Hayes, whose personal attractions, as our readers may suppose, secured for her no small share of suitors, was wooed by a gentleman of the name of Mullins. This gentleman had a friend of the name of Snogsley, a clerk in a lawyer's office; and it reached the ear of the lady that Mr. Snogsley, who was a very pitiful abbreviation ot humanity, was in the habit nightly, at a house near the Docks, now called the Wellington, and kept by Gomersal, the actor, of reviling her to her lover, and that, too, often in the presence of a parlour full of people. Harriet, there- fore, determined upon revenge, and wrote to him a letter, signed Charlotte Dauvers, purporting to come from a maiden desperately in love with him, vowing, " Unless, dear Snogs, you will be mine, . This night my garters shall my neck entwine,'' and appointing a meeting, at half- past ten, on the parade ifacing the Humber. Snogsley was true to his appointment; not so the writer. Half- past ten, quarter to eleven came, but no lady. At length, the market- clock struck eleven; and Snogsley, as it was beginning to rain rather sharply, imagining he was being hoaxed, was about to leave, when a short man, mysteriously muffled in a cloak, sud- denly made his appearance, and, in a thick voice, said, " Your name, I think, is Snogsley ?" " It is, sir." "' You are waiting for a lady V „ Just so, sir." " You appear wet to the skin ?" " I am amazingly sensitive to the truth of that observation,'' said Mr. Snogsley, draining the rain from his hat. " May I be per- mitted to ask your name ?" " Danvers, sir," was the answer; " Danvers, the brother of the unhappy girl whom you would this night have ruined." Snogsley felt very queer, for at heart he was a coward, " His legs began to totter; And, as his clothes he tried to wring, He felt, as the rain poured down his back, He was got in a ' tidy string.' " The result was, the stranger, who was no other than Miss Hayes, after administering to him a sound horse- whipping, made him promise that he would never mention her name again; " For," she added," I know Miss Hayes, and if you introduce her name again in company disrespectfully, I will come and horse- whip you before your companions.'' For many weeks this was the talk of all Hull, and Snogsley was obliged to leave for Selby, where he now resides. Miss Hayes was subsequently married to a Mr. Moss, a hatter but she livod with him but a very short time, joining the Hull company, with which company she continued to play for some time In 1845, she came to London, and then first became acquainted with Mr. Wharton, who was then engaged as a carpenter at the Princess's. She subsequently appeared at the Walhalla, in Leicester- square, and her success far outshone anything that had ever been done by the Kellers, or the numerous troupes of poses- plastiques that have appeared in the metropolis. Her splendid bust, together with the energy that she threw into every character she represented, stamped her as " the queen of the female models." Our artist has sketched her in the character of Apollo, a part which she ap- peared in for many successive weeks, with unqualified success. She subsequently appeared in Coventry, in the LidyG « drva procession, where she created a most unparalleled sensation, and afterwards exhibited in all the principal towns in the kingdom. At present, we believe, she is not playing anywhere. THE LORD CHIEF BARON NICHOLSON. THE JUSTICE TAVERN, 36, BOW- STREET. As we announced in our first number, this leviathan incar- nation of judicial jocundity has removed his undying convention from theGarrick'sIIeadto the above tavern, which he has had en- tirely fitted up, and christened with a legal patronymic. On Mon- day, the ' iud instant, the place was opened by the Baron in propria, persona, and, as might be anticipated, was crowded in every part. It was a cheering sight to see how the public rallied round their old favourite, showing that he was still the " man of the Town;" indeed, all the " best sort" of the day were there— the trumps who can— nay, more, did—" come out," giving " the ould chap'' a turn he deserved. The trial was of more than the usual laughter- exciting character, whilst the learned Serjeant, Mr. John Costello, appeared to have acquired fresh energy in his new quar- ters ; we never indeed heard him to so much advantage, and the bursts of applause with which he was repeatedly interrupted, were every way deserved. From the commencement to the close, the talented gentleman, indeed, appeared, to use a homely expression, " to put his shoulder to the wheel." He was ably opposed by a gentleman whom we have heard repeatedly at the Garrick's Head, some years since, but whose presence we have for some time missed. Of course, the short period that Mr. Nicholson had been in the house ( oa\ y leaving the Garrick on Saturday) had not given to his general arrangements that perfectability which so peculiarly characterises everything undertaken by the Lord Chief Baron. The dining and supper department are under excellent superin- tendence, and on the same scale of superiority as at the Garrick. After the Judge and Jury there was an excellent concert, to which the public were admitted free. 2 THE TOWN. 3 MEMOIR OF A FRENCH LADY OF FASHION- ( Continued, from, our last.) IF you have remarked it, it is very rare, when women thus appropriated pass along the avenue of the Champs Elysecs, that they do not continually keep their head at the carriage window, smiling to all they meet. They also display an incredible luxury of the toilet, which compels the ladies of fashion to that great simplicity to which they obstinately confine themselves. And then these unhappy creatures are always accompa- nied by we know not whom. As no man consents to exhibit publicly the nocturnal love he has for them, arid as they have a horror of solitude, they are accompanied either by those who, less lucky, have no carriage, or some of those old elegantes whose elegance has no motive, and to whom one might address oneself without fear when one wishes to have some details as to the person they accompany. Marguerite had none of these generalities. She arrived, always alone, in her carriage* within which she buried her- self as much as possible. In the winter she enveloped her- self in ample cachmere ; in the summer she was attired in lighter costume ; and although there were in the promenade she visited, many persons she knew, when by chance she smiled to them, the smile was visible to them alone, and a duchess might thus smile. She did not drive backwards and forwards, from the round point at the entrance of the Champs Elvsees, as her col- leagues'did. Her two steeds drew her rapidly to the wood. There she descended from the carriage, and promenaded on foot for an hour ; she then remounted her barouche, and returned tu> her house at a speedy trot. For the rest, her carriage, irreproachably neat, was so well known, that, the moment she quitted the Place Louis Quinze, it was seldom that there was net some one to say— " There goes Marguerite to the wood!" I remembered ali these circumstances, of which I had sometimes been the witness, and I regretted the death of this girl, as we must always regret the total destruction of a noble work. Now, it was impossible to behold a more charming beauty than that of Marguerite. She was tall, and must have been excessively thin, but she possessed, in a supreme degree, the art of concealing this forgetfulness of nature by the simple arrangement of the dress in which she attired herself. Her shawl, the point of which touched the ground, allowed to escape on each side the large sleeves of a silk robe; and the large muff in which she enveloped her hands, and which she held against her bosom, was surrounded with folds so well arranged that the eye had nothing to criticise, however exacting it might be, in the contours of her shape. Her head, a marvel, was the object of a peculiar coquetry. It was very small, and her mother, as de Musset said, seemed to have made it thus, in c rderto do it well. Her face formed an oval of an indescribable grace. Black eyes, surmounted by eyebrows, whose arch was of such a purity, that it seemed as if painted, were veiled by long eye- lashes, which, when they closed, threw a shade on the rosy tint of her cheeks. The nose was fine, straight, and spiritual. The nostrils, somewhat open, betrayed ail ardent aspiration towards a sensual life. As to the mouth, which no expres- sion could deprive of its original beauty, it really induced one to stop merely to regard it. It graciously opened on teeth as white as milk, and her rosy lips appeared— so fine were they in tranparency and tone— incapable of sup- porting the contact, even of the mildest air. Her skin had that light bloom on which the atmosphere plays as on the downy peach which no hand has soiled. Her hair, black as the raven's, naturally or not, was wavy, and two large plaits, surmounting the eyebrows, • were lost behind the head, displaying to the eye the point of the ears, in which sparkled two diamonds worth four or five thousand francs eapli This head which we have attempted to describe, had an expression ofnaneti quite girlish; one would have said that those large eyes were never fixed but on the azure vault of heaven, and that this mouth had never uttered other than pious words, and had bestowed none but chaste kisses. Marguerite had a marvellous portrait of herself, by Vidal, the only man whose pencil could reproduce it. After her death I had this portrait at my disposition for some days, and it was of so remarkable a resemblance, that it served to afford me some traits, for which my memory could not perhaps have sufficed. When I visited her apartments, this portrait was no longer at Marguerite's, and the one I saw was the Lady of the Stars, which she had purchased as a companion to her own likeness. Amongst the sketches of this chapter, there are some which I did not obtain till afterwards, but which I now give, that I may not have to return to them again, when I commence the anecdotical history of tfiis woman. Marguerite attended all the first representations that took place, and passed every night either at the theatre or the ball. Upon every occasion that a new piece was performed, Marguerite was certain to be seen in a box of the dress circle, w ith three things which never quitted her, and which always occupied the ledge of thehox; her lorgnette or opera glass, a bag of bonbons, and a bouquet of camelias. During five- and- twenty days of the month the camelias were white, and for the other five they were red ; the reason of this variety was never known, which I mention without being enabled to explain, and which the habituds of the theatre which she most frequently attended, and her friends, had remarked, like myself. Marguerite was never seen to wear other flowers than eamelias ; I shall not affirm, however, that she had never re- ceived others. So that, at Madame Bayon's, her fleurite, they had finished by surnaming her the Lady of the Ca- melias, and the surname had remained to her. This was nearly the whole I knew of her, when the visit 1 made to her apartments gave me an occasion to recall all these details. I knew, besides, like all those who live in a certain society in Paris, that. Marguerite had been the mistress of the most elegant young men of Paris; that she openly avowed it, and that they themselves boasted of it, which proved that lovers and mistress were each proud of one another. For the last three years, however, since a journey she had made to the baths at Bagneres, she had only lived, they said, with an old foriegn duke, enormously rich, and who had endeavoured to make her break as soon as possible, with those with whom she had previously lived; which we may add, she had appeared to do with a pretty good grace. As a recompense for this consent— for the age of the duke only permitted him to recompense her in this way— he had given her the apartments I have described, her Carriage lier diamonds, which were spoken of every where; and very often was seen at the extremity of her box, of which Mar- guerite occupied the front, the figure of the duke, who, des- pite his family, did not fear to show himself in her company. During the last year of her life, it is asserted that Mar- guerite received the old man less frequently; and yet, when she fell ill, he attended the young girl, and when she was dead, of the two men who. followed the hearse, he was one. This woman must indeed have been something more than an ordinary courtesan, for an old man to exhibit pub- licly the scandal of his affection for her. Now, this is what was narrated to me. Marguerite was attacked with a disease of the chest, which had, nearly brought her to the grave more than once. The winters she passed at Paris, in the midst of suppers and dis- sipation of every sort, had only aggravated the disease. In the spring of 1842, she was so feeble, so changed, that the phy- sicians had ordered bathing, and she departed for Bagneres. At Bagneres was a young girl, living with her father. Her resemblance to Marguerite was incredible. They might have been taken for two sisters. This young girl, however, had arrived at the last stage of consumption; and, a short time after the arrival of Marguerite, she died. Her father appeared inconsolable from the death of his daughter ; and, indeed, his grief was painful. Now, nothing is more melancholy than an old man who mourns the h.- ss of his child. It was in the midst of the grief caused by this death, that the duke remarked Marguerite, who had the same beauty, the same age, and the same malady as his daughter. It seemed to him that Goil had sent liim this woman on her passage to console his grief, and with that abandon which is always excusable in an old man, especially when an old man suffers as this one did, he went to her, took her hands, embraced her in weeping, and, without inquiring who she was, implored of Marguerite the permission to visit her. Marguerite wiis alone with her waiting woman, and, besides, she was not one of those who fear to compromise themselves.' She accorded to the duke what he demanded, and was moved at the recital he made her the first time he visited her, and the reasons that brought him there. There were at Bagneres some individuals who knew Mar guerite, and who very officiously apprised the duke what she was. The latter was pained at this revelation, for here ceased the complete resemblance of Marguerite and his daughter. Still, his age and his grief made him forget the past life of this girl, who, from the nature of her disease, was prompt at enthusiasm, and who, after having confessed, with tears, the truth to the old man, promised him, if he would love her as a father loves his child, an affection she had never known, to break entirely with her former habits. It must be remembered, that at this time Marguerite was ill; that the past appeared to her as one of the principal causes of her illness, and that a slight share of superstition induced her to liojx; that God would leave her her beauty, on which she set a greSt value, in exchange for her conversion and repentance. In fact, the bathing, the promenades, natural exertion, anjl sleep, had nearly re- established the health of the sufferer, when the end of the summer arrived. [ To be continned.] LONDON PROCURESSES,- NO. II. THEATRICAL TRICKSTERS. MR. HENRY FARREN. IN commencing a series of papers exposing peccadilloes of the gentry who " strut and fret their hour upon the stage," those crea- tures who are supposed to " teach the doctrines of honour's school by night, yet daily eat their bread through stratagem's crafty en- terprise," we feel that there are many names in the theatrical world that have fot years through their shifty manceuvrings with, and dupings of, the public, deserved the lash of the censor; still we know of no individual, for the short period he has been before the public, who has earned so peculiar a noto- riety for the laxative character of his pecuniary agreements, or iu fact, deserves to figure as the first of a series of theatrical trick- sters, better than Mr. H. Farren, the son of the talented and much respected comedian of the same name. The first escapado we shall direct attention to in the life of this worthy, ocourred at Wakefield, a few months back. Having taken the theatre there the strength of his name enabled him to form a company, and as it was rumoured by inuendo, that " the old gentleman" would have something to do with the affair, every one presumed that the money would be all right. The result, was, however, of the most ruinous character, the actors were wandering about the town starving, and to such a state of distress were they reduced, that a young amateur lady of the name of Maitland, positively pawned her gold watch, to obtain food for the company. This watch was lent to Master Farren, and upon the company breaking up, and the young lady reclaiming it, our hero, in the first iiistiihce coolly declared he thought it a gift, and then in the most gentle- manly manner, insinuated that it was given in return for certain favours he had granted. The interference of a solicitor caused, however, the production of the watch, and its returft to the rightful owner. Mr. Farren's funniments have not, however, been confined to management; there are various other stories circulated about him, to which we shall not at present allude. At Gravesend, his conduct to the actors was highly reprehensible. The unfortunate man, who left London for the purpose of supplying the wardrobe, through Mr. F.' s management, was reduced to the verge of beggary, and was positively compelled to pawn his boots. On the Sunday, his child, lying dead in London, he was anxious to reach there in time to bury him, and several times importuned him for money to obtain the boots; he repeatedly promised to settle the whole account presently, and finally, at half- past 12 o'clock, gave him ten shillings out of five pound fifteen. That there may be no mistake about this matter, we would add that the poor fellow was compelled to borrow money of Tom Warde, the generous- hearted landlord of the " Black Eagle," to come to London; on the following Tuesday the house was pe- remptorily closed, and the costumier found himself minus the whole of the money. The following is the latest affair in con- nection with this respectable young man, which we copy from a Sunday paper:— Through his agent, the far- famed Arthur Dillon, he made an engagement with a iady to lead the business, and also with a leader of the band, and made arrangements for them to meet him at Burnley, in Lancashire, where he said he intended to open on the Monday following. These persons started from Loudon on their mission, the lady having previously paid the agent his foe, and, arriving in the town, as most professionals do, not too flush of money, found, to their amazement, that there was no theatre in the town, nor was Mr. Henry Farren known. He then sent them word that he should not open there, and got them to go over to Wigan to meet him and a few more actors. Here he opened a room for a few nights, and then abandoned the company to their fate; they are now in an almost starving state, sharing amongst them receipts varying from 2s. to 15s. a night, out of which they have to pay for printing and other incidental ex- penses before they divide the receipts. In appearance, Mr. Farren closely apes " the man about town;" there is a jaunty, specious style about him; he has a very plausi- ble manner, and interlards his conversation by allusions to " the old gentleman. As an actor, his principal dependence is the name of Farren, for although he held an engagement at the Hay- market, Webster always declared him a clog upon the establish- ment. In our next we shall give a gentleman well- known to the theatrical profession both in town and country. MOTHER ALLISON OF UPPER WIGMORE STREET AND HOLLOWAY HEAD, BIRMINGHAM. Jane Allison, or Alleyson, for she goes by both names, is now in her 57th year, and has been favourably known to the aged volup- tuaries of the great metropolis for upwards of twenty years havinjr during that period, carried on the infamous calling of procuress'. Little is known of her early life, save that she was born at Walsall' about seven miles from Birmingham, and that during the celebrated O. P. wars at Covent Garden, she obtained her livelihood by pros- titution, and lodged in Hart- street, even then a place notorious for lewd characters. Mrs. Allison continued on the streets for nearly fifteen years, until she met her late husband, John Hunter Allison who, in 1824, kept a store for sailors ( i. e. a crimp's), in Ratcliffe- highway ; at this time she was known by the names of Seymour, Smith, Taylor, and the various aliases that the fair . ones are wont to assume in their roamings. The cause of the marriage of this truly infamous pair arose out of a most extraordinary circnmstance. A foreign sailor having purchased, upon several occasions, articles of Allison, one evening passing his shop, after dusk, rather drunk, was induced to enter and take something more to drink ; the visit ended in the sailor, after stopping several hours, quarrelling with Allison, who knocked him down, robbed him of 751., and thrust him into the street, where he was found about 12 o'clock by the watch, in a state of insensibility. In the morning Allison was taken before the magistrate for the robbery ; he, however, stoatly denied the charge, admitting that the sailor had entered the shop, but left after a few minutes; he further declared that his shop was closed at 8 o'clock ( a statement deposed to by his neighbours), and called Jane, who swore she at that hour went with him to the Royalty Theatre, and that after the performance he accompanied her to her lodgings, and remained with her all night. This, with the confused, rambling manner of the sailor, ended in the dismissal of the case. About two years after their union, the two partners in crime removed to the west, and Mrs. A. took a small tenement near Clarence- gardens, Regent's- park, since then a notorious colony for prostitutes, where she commenced with an " open- house," a brothel free to all comers. Such was the infamous manner in which the house was con- ducted, that eventually it was indicted, and Mother Allison, being by this time in possession of a good sum of money, and fearful that she might be made to suffer imprisonment, for her, immorali- ties, started for Havre de Grace. This foreign watering- place was then obtaining vast notoriety, and girls of every description, maids, or otherwise, were trepanned over from England, for the sensual gratification of the wretches* with which this place then abounded. Mother Allison's appearance ( for even at this period she was a handsome woman) won for her a host of friends, and the " Hotel d'Amour, Mme. Allison de Londres," became the most famous, or rather infamous, brothel throughout France. Her establishment was visited by all classes, and she has since boa- ted that at one period, she lodged, kept, and, in fact, entirely provided for, one hundred and sixteen females, one- third of whom were English, the rest French, Italian, and Swiss. Her career of iniquity, was, however, doomed to be checked, after nearly seven years success, in which she must have made a princely fortune by two unlooked- for circumstances she was nearly ruined. It ajjpestTCtl that an American gentleman of the name of Hartland, connected with the embassy of his country, and who frequently visited the house, suddenly discovered, one evening, whilst seated on the sofa, that he had lost a small case of diamonds of im- mense value; feeling certain that he had them but a few minutes previous, the gendarmerie was sent for; but although every exertioti was made, the property was never found. This affair tended to bring the house into disrepute, and the patronage very considerably fell off. The second, and most serious circumstance for Mother Allison, was the case of Emily Grover. This girl who was but in her seventeenth year, was a native of Aberdeen and had been decoyed from her aunt's, where she was staying for a few months in London, to the den at Havre. Here she was seen by a fearfully deformed black, the captain of a vessel lying off Havre; as it was ( and is) the rule of theso houses, that for a certain sum, every patron has permission to choose from the general stock, the brute having paid the sum, fixed upon the Scotch girl. To the astonishment of Mrs. A., she, however, refused. Entreaties or command was unavailing. Emily declared she would not approach such a wretch. It was vain the infamous procuress told the poor girl, that the moment a female entered the house she ceased to have a will of her own ( one of the first rules at these places). Emily was obstinate; at length Mother Allison's surprise and entreaties gave way to passion, and seizing a heavy bunch of keys, she struck her over the face, head, and arms, cutting and tearing out pieces in the most savage manner; at length the poor girl fainted, and in this state, smothered in blood, she was dragged by Allison's husband, first by lier feet, then by her hair, from the parlour to an empty room on the second floor, where she was thrown and left for severalhours. A girl, however, of the name of Morris ( who is still living, and now keeps a fruiterer's near the Mile- end- gate, London), gave notice to the prefect of the police, who entered the house. Emily presented a horrible spectacle; in a lifeless state she was conveyed to the hospital, whilst Allison and his wife were conveyed to the prison, and their house placed under the surveillance of the gendarmerie. Upon their trial, they were both found guilty; and it being proved that some horrible excesses had taken place in the Hotel d'Amour, they were sentenced, Allison to two years im- prisonment to the gallies, and twenty- four thousand francs ( 1,0001.), and his wife nine months confinement in the jail of the town, and a fine of twelve thousand francs ( 50( M.). Though this sentence may appear somewhat severe to Englishmen, who can break a fellow creature's arm for five pounds or three months' imprisonment, it was actually carried into effect, and is quite in keeping with the stringency of the French law. Poor Emily lost the sight of an eye entirely, and was marked for life. At the expiration of her sentence, Allison hastened to England. This was in 1833; and the writer of this lost all sight of her till the summer of 1845, when the whole of the London press teemed with the particulars of a most daring act of abduction committed in New Millman- street, Brunswick- square, whereby the two daughters of a respectable lodgirig- house keeper were enticed away first to Birmingham, and eventually to France. This circum- stance must be fresh in the memory of most of our readers as it created a very considerable sensation at the time. The procuress in this case was Mother Allison, and we then ascertained that she had been keeping a private house in Birmingham for eight or nine years, which she still rents at Holloway Head. On the tenth of October of the past year she came to London, and took up her residence in Upper Wigmore- street, where she still resides pursu- ing her infamous calling. Her husband, it appears, died in J835, of the cholera, and was buried in St. Philip's church- yard, Bir- mingham. In the above sketch we have given names, dates, and localities at full length. No portion of this detail of infamy has ever before been published in any work or paper ( if we except the trial of Allison, in the French journals); and we pledge ourselves to the truth of every line published in this number of the TOWN. We court inquiry as to the correctness of these statements, and we consequently ask— Why should this aged sinner still be per- mitted to continue her unholy trafficking in the bodies of the children of our common country ? * This horrible trade is even now carried on to an awful extent. Last sum- mer nearly two hundred women from the neighbourhood of the western portion of London were induced to visit this place, the hot- bed of brothel- keepers; certainly three- fourths, of the women were prostitutes, but the treatment they received was of the most brutal and distrusting character some of the girls declared they would sooner suffer death than submit to the unnatural, fiendish- like propositions there made. These are facts which cannot be disputed ; in proof, there is nowlivingata house, No. 11, Brydges- street, Strand, called the Elysium Wine Rooms, a man of the name of Joseph Simmons, who conducts the rooms during the absence of Lipman, the pro- prietor, that can verify, if necesssary, on oath, the truth of this statement. " THE TOWN. 3 COCK AND HEN CLUBS. THE CROOKED BILLET, HOXTON OLD TOWN. PETER WALES. In accordance with the promise made in our last week's impres sion we on Monday evening, paid a visit to the above establish- ment. The Crooked Billet, be it premised, is a large, noble- fronte| l gin- palace- looking establishment, immediately opposite Miles s Lunatic Asylum, and governed by a very worthy old sort of the name of Wales. Making our way up a narrow, winding staircase, entered by a side- door unconnected with the bar, we found our- selves in the concert- room, which is on the first- floor, and really a very handsomely constructed room, well- lighted and well- built, both for size and sound. Casting our editorial opticulars around the place, we found we were in what we have termed acock- and- hen club; at the same instant, the TOWN felt it was not one strictly coming under that denomination, but of an exceedingly respectable character, the females all evidently decent, quiet bodies, and the men, with but two exceptions, anything but snobbish or puppy- bred. Taking another cigar, we exclaimed," This will do; we'll see, now, who Mr. Barnes is." A dingy- looking man, in very seedy binding, who dragged himself up and down the room to thp name of Jemmy— we thought of Boz's " Dismal Jemmy "— here inquired, " if we had any orders prior to the next harmony ?" and, having responded to his desirings, the harmony forthwith com menced. The first effort was from a person with a voice the per- fect antidote of gaiety, who sang something about some jolly hay- makers, who shouted and danced. We could not make muoh ot the ballad, it being given in a tune as correct as the " Maids ot merry England" being sang to the air of " Ye banks and braes ' Regretting that respectable individuals could make such public fools of themselves as to attempt songs they have not the slightest capacitv for or knowledge of, we waited with trembling for a song from a lady, knowing that women's songs at cock- and- hen clubs are generally cruel inflictions. Usually, the female is ten minutes before she begins; then there is the mumbling sound of a very long, dreary ballad about love, which, after getting through half, she breaks down in, and then is induced to " try anothe " which she does in a key two njtes higher than her natural voice, and a horrible spasmodic shriek is the usual result. On this occasion we were, however, agreeably surprised— to say we were pLase would be a common- place expression— we were delighted the young lady gave two songs, one ( the last), Reuben Bla e, in a tone of exquisite sweetness; we know not who this young female is; we couldn't even catch a glimpse of her face, much less her name, but we say deliberately that such voice should receive cultivation ; some of hei notes were of a pure soprano character, at the same time given with an ease and finish, to us truly wonderful. We then were favoured with two very humorous effusions, " Ma- trimony," and the " Obstinate Man," by a Mr. Evans: the last received considerable applause. During the whole time the sing- ing, our attention had been painfully attracted, as well as several others in the room, to an extraordinarily silly- looking lad, who, perched in the chair, appeared to be striving to do anything and everything to make himself the ape of the room. By the side of him in the corner was a decently attired young female, to whom, however, he paid but little attention, apparently being quite taken up with the importance of his post, and the conversation ot a Dutch- dwarf- built creature, in a very dirty drab coat, whom we took for an unwashed Jew lemon- boy. If this had been all, there would have been no positive annoyance, but the fellow kept up an inces sant beating with the hammer, and making insane attempts to be witty, such as, when the lady was encored, " The ladle will oblige." " I'm the cheerraan— that makes me so merry ;" the banging of the hammer, bang! bang ! bang! was perfectly earsplittmg ; several gentlemen at first complained, and finally were compelled to leave the room. In the midst of this annoyance the unwashed lemon- boy in the dirty drab coat, stood up, and after some awful faces, in a hor- rible, croaking voice, gave a filthy, unmeaning parody on " Lord Lovel," about a donkey that died, and a carrot that grew out of her breast ( very neat)! Thoroughly disgusted with this fellow, and his donkeyfied friend the chairman, we left the house. Before, how- ever, we conclude this article, let the TOWN give a word of ad rice to Mr. Barnes, who, we forgot to mention, we found to be ab e to sing a very good tenor song, and a very civil, obliging young man, every way fitted to be a conductor. You have a superior company to preside over, and are certain to succeed ; whilst your landlord continues to sell as good an article as we received on the night ot our visit; do not, therefore, in future— we will not say insu. t— but offer so poor a compliment to your patrons, as to permit a half- drunken, half- silly, hobbledehoy, neither man or boy, to act as your chairman. wife's bed it was always towards morning. Mrs. R. bore this neglect for some time with great good humour; and as her husband still treated her with respect, the insolence of the rival maid was the first thing that roused her jealousy by alarming her pride. She wisely concealed her suspicions till she had full proof of their justice, and even then concealed them; an example of rare and exemplary conduct, and very remarkable in a woman. The night that Mrs. R. received the insult from the maid, she took the candle at a late hour, and went to the girl's bed cham ber, where she found the two lover's clasped in each other's arms, and fast asleep. She had almost fainted at the sight, but ashamed of her weakness, she recalled her spirits, and took the hair bracelet which she usually wore round her arm, and tied it to her hushand's wrist. He still slept, and she retired unobserved. Next morning when Mr. R. came to breakfast, he seemed in much agitation of mind; he wished to speak out, but Was at a loss what to say. She saw his embarrassment, but did not wish to relieve him from it. At last he said, with as much ease as he conld affect, " My dear, I have got something of your's, though by what means 1 cannot tell. If it came by your hand, it was very kind in taking so gentle a method of reminding me of my duty; the cause of your uneasiness shall be speedily removed."—" By no means," replied she; " I have every reason to beg your pardon for the intrusion— it is but reasonable you should please your- self in your companions; but I cannot help indirectly telling you that if my image was no longer worthy a place in your bosom, it is improper that your's should adorn my arm: love must be mutual or nothing." " For heaven's sake," cried he, " i _ me, and let the wanton be dismissed!" " No, sir," replied she; " I must keep her till I learn whether she or I have the strongest hold of that heart, after you have been acquainted with us both; and should I discover it to be her, I will walk out. You shall never find me a bar to your happiness; besides, it would be an injury to the girl to expose her by sneh a precipitate step, and a cruel mortification to me to have it said that I have been so bad a wife as to lose the affections of my husband before I can either plead age or infirmity as an apology." Mr. R. fell down on his knees, and bathed his wife's hands with his tears, again begging that he might no more see the accomplice of his guilt, " You shall not, my dear, since you are so truly penitent. I will take the chance of your reformation. But before I remove her, wh; ch shall be as soon as prudence will admit, you must provide her with a maintenance for life, as we cannot give her a character that will introduce her intp any other family j and I cannot bear to think that the woman who has shared your embraces should ever want." He agreed to so humane and generous a proposal; the girl was removed, and Mrs. R. continues to receive the undi- vided affections of her husband, as the reward of her moderation and prudence. UNPARALLELED INSTANCE OF MISTAKEN IDENTITY AT THE BRITANNIA SALOON. A SHOCKING CASE OF ARREST. On Saturday night last, just prior to the great Lancasterian delineator of Yorkshire character, Mr. Lysander Thompson going upon the stage for the character of Shock, in the " Shep- herd of Derwent Valley," by some unexplained mistake in identity, he was arrested for 22/. and conveyed to " durance vile," the piece being changed. Mr. Lane was from town at the time; but Mr. N. T. Hicks would no doubt have advanced the sum, had he not felt convinced that his interference would affect the amount of damages which Mr. T. may recover in an action against the Sheriff, for false imprisonment. All who have had the pleasure of doing business with Lysander, must remember at once, from the manner in which he invariably keeps his accounts, that it is utterly impossible he could ever have required or obtained credit to the amount of Twenty- two pounds ! There is a dreadful day of reckoning coming— Heaven help the Sheriff, say we, if it is a mistake. HOW THEY MAKE CUCKOLDS IN TURKEY? THE WIFE'S HAIR BRACELET: A TALE OF LINCOLN'S INN CHAMBERS. The old chambers about our Inns of Court have been the scenes of many an adventure of gallantry, and often have we thought what chronicles of lust and criminality might be gathered from them. The following little circumstance, though it does not strictly come under the above category, is somewhat interesting. For many years, and, indeed, till within the last few weeks, there resided, in the Old Square, and nearly facing the New Vice- chan- cellor's Courts, a Mr. J. H. R , an attorney of considerable practice, who by his conduct rendered himself conspicuous during the recent Trafalgar- square disturbances. This gentleman married at an early period of life, and, contrary to the practice of mo9t gentle- men in his profession, married without any views of interest. His wife was his choice equally in regard to the qualities of the mind and per- son ; she was at once his mistress and companion. They lived happily for many years, and saw their children— the remembrance of past joys, and the source of present satisfaction— smiling around them without being sensible of any coldness on either side. Such a condition is, of all others, the most envied ; it unites the highest pleasures with the most pleasing visions of rural felicity— the rapturous feelings of virtuous love, the gladdening emotions of a parent's heart, the ele- vating hopes of honour and consequence in the pledges of a tender affection. And such seemed to be the lot of Mr. R. and his wife, when the bewitching charms of a maid had almost blasted their whole happiness. This girl was assuredly handsome, and she knew it; she was young, blooming, full of passion, but void of prin- ciple. Mr. R., who is of a jocular humour, and had occasion fre- quently to chat with Maria about his children, accidently paid her a compliment upon her person. The manner in which she took it surprised him. Her pride was flattered; he was tempted to repeat it, accompanied with certain liberties which did not seem to displease. Her downcast eyes concealed the wishes of her person. Passing through the Lowther- arcade one day by accident, he met Maria, taking the youngest child ( a girl about two years old) a walk ; he thought this an excellent opportunity, and entered into conversation, the result of which ended in his persuading her to follow him to an establishment for " amatory evolutions," in Buck- ingham- street. The child was left below, whilst the imprudent parent and wanton maid proceeded upstairs, the latter to lose a name which appeared so troublesome to her. After an hour's dal. liance she was permitted to return home. He had succeeded. She seemed happy to be thought worthy of the same favours with her mistress. From this moment of infidelity Mr. R. neglected his wife ; and though she still held the first place in liis affection, she was left to press her lonely pillow, while he sat up under pretence of business, and stole into Maria's bed, which was a chamber adjoining his- office. He could not disturb Mrs. R. he said, at the hours convenient for him to retire ; therefore ordered a sepa- rate bed to be prepared for himself ; and if ever he visited his About a month ago ( said the Turkish story- teller), Omar, that rich Mollun, whom you all know, walking upon the terr ce of his house, saw the young Fatima, who had just marr e: > 1 e beautiful Cassem, and immediately became in love with er Omar, who trusted on these occasions to his gold, sentfor the old Emina J: anem, a celebrated woman of intrigue, declared to her he object of his passion, and begged her assistance. But Emina replied, that Cassem was young, and excessively fond of his wife, and that, as the; were now interchanging the first tokens of love, it was ressonabl. to sup- pose that they felt raptures which both could communicate to the full extent of their mutual wishes. But the presents a^ d promises of Omar convinced this old lady that the commission, however dif- ficult, was yet worth acceptance. After Emina had spent a little time in consideration, she put on a white robe, a green veil, and the whole dress of a Hagia> of Mecca; and thus disguised, knocked at Fatima's door one day about noon. " Good and charitable lady," said she, " I have taken a journey nine times to the holy cities; seventy times have I drunk of the well of Zemzem; three hundred times have my lips touched the black stone, and more than a thou- sand times the threshold of Caaba. In my last pilgrimage, I made a vow never to omit the five prayers recommended by the prophet; at present the cries of the Meuezzins have caught me in the streets, and at a great distance from my home; I therefore beg of you, fair lady, a little water, to make my Abdest, and a corner of your house where I may pray without interruption." The unsuspicious Fatima, who was naturally complaisant, made the old beldame walk up stairs, gave her water for ablutions, and the carpet iipon which her husband prayed, to perform her devotion. The deceitful Emina thanked Fatima for her kindness, and made a pretence of repeating her prayers; but in folding up the carpet she took good care to put into it, with great dexterity, a piece of rich stuff, after which she retired, loading the charitable hostess with numberless benedictions who, on her part, thought herself not a little happy in having it in her power to oblige a person of so much piety. Soon after this, Cassem returned home, and wished also to repeat his prayers ; but on unrolling his carpet, the first thing which struck his eye was the beautiful piece of brocade which the artful old woman had pur- posely left there. As Cassem was by no means rich, and as he knew that Fatima had no money to purchase so valuable a piece of stuff, jealousy took possession of his soul, and without assigning any reason to his wife, he conducted her before the Cadi, and procured a divorce. The unhappy Fatima, finding herself thus abandoned, without being conscious of any crime, passed three days amidst tears and lamentations ; at the end of which time old Emina paid her a visit under another character. " My dear Fatima," said Emina, " I know all your adventure ; it is a dismal one, and Cassem is a fool: but though you should weep a whole year, you would not change your situation by that means; lam, therefore, of opinion that you had better try another husband." At this ad- vice Fatima dried up her tears and wished to allow the force of the old lady's argument. " But," said she, " I never knew any man besides Cassem, whom I loved more than my life; and I know not how I shall do to find another husband." " Leave that to me," said Emina, " and I promise you to find one with whom you will not be displeased. Your rich neighbour, Omar, has heard of your beauty; but he has a whim contrary to our customs and to modesty — he insists upon seeing the woman he is about to espouse. If you can dispense with this trifling innovation, you are again happy, if a husband can make you so." The prospect before Fatima was dismal; and as she had neither friends nor resources, she thought there could not be much harm in trusting to the guidance of a woman so much older than herself. In short, Emina conducted Fatima to the house of Omar, who soon got over the difficulties of this beautiful young- woman ; indeed, he was not content with seeing her face merely: Fatima was all over lovely; and, as fast as Oma r oh- tained an infringement on one reserve, he solicited for another, till at length Fatima had nothing else to grant, nor Omar to solicit. At last, he made her a magnificent present, and sent her home, with a solemn promise to marry her on the next day, after the usual manner, and as if nothing had previously occurred. In the mean- time, however, old Emina went to Cassem, Jand asked for a piece of valuable stuff, which, as she said, she had accidently left in the carpet his wife had lent her to repeat her prayers on. These few words opened the eyes of Cassem to theinjustice he had committed. He had been unhappy ever since he had parted from his Fatima, and was not a little rejoiced that an opportunity offered of taking her again. Fatima, next morning, instead of seeing Omar's people arrive, beheld those of her beautiful Cassem ; and though the lover of the day before abounded with riches, she preferred the embraces of Cassem, who, on the night of reconciliation, was too eager to discover those wide and deep wounds— those numberless rude thrusts which his honour had so recently received, though they still vibrated 011 the veins, and agitated the heart of Fatima. Omar had perfectly gratified his desires; Cassem was happy only in igno- rance ; and as Fatima possessed not the delicacy of Lncretia, she very prudently kept a secret which women in general scarcely ever reveal, unless sometimes on their death- beds. TOWN TRIFLES. Lushy Doctor Brooks' wife possesses one concomitant of an expansive intellect. This often leads to some ludicrous situa- tions. One day, intending to seal a letter, she put the burning wax on her naked skin, and did not discover her mistake till she pressed the seal upon it. She has a custom of putting her hand in the waistcoat of gentlemen to whom she is speaking. Talking one day at rehearsal at the Surrey, to a certain tall member of the company, she could not reach his waistcoat. Dick started back with astonishment. " For heaven's sake, madam, what are you about? what do you mean ?" All who were present perfectly un- derstood it was a mistake. MK. T. MEADE. " I played Othello t'other night, And struck out beauties new :" " True, and struck out, in trembling fright, Some of the old ones too !" A certain baronet, joking with his maid- servant, who was pas sably handsome, but very lean, said, " I wonder, Jane, thou art no fatter ; thou dost eat thy meat heartily, but dost not thrive upon it ; thy mistress eats not the fourth part of what thou dost, and yet you see how plump she looks;" to which Jane replied, " I only eat at set meals, but my lady hath strong broths before dinner, and warm ellies after dinner; and puts more into her belly than you or I ever saw or heard of." " What's the News?" " I really don't know; I've only seen the Daily." P s Jack Souglas was walking with Honner the other day in B" : opsgate- street, a very fat woman tripped by them, when J- » ck t bserved—" That filley has more bottom than speed " It a s ngv. ar faet, that a wo. nan of thetovn who has achild, is much m" 19 disposed to keep and rear it, than an unmarried womun placed in the same position by a single faux- pas. This peculiarity res"' ts from their relative positions; the woman of the town r°,: ats herseL in 1 er own eyes by rearing her infant— the unmarriec. tno'bei who has committed but cne error, by the same conduct pubhsl. es her own dishonour, and, probably, de- prives herself of the means of subsistence. Sume mistaken per- sons, unwilling to attribute to natural feeling that lsie of their children which prostitutes evince, suppose tl r. t th?. j rearthein from motives of interest, and with a view to ultimately profiting by their dishonour. This, however, is a vile calumry on the un- fortunate creatures; there are many instances in he metropolis of these lost beings bringing their children up decently, doing all that lays in their power to exti li- ate them from their own un- happy position, and even, occasionally, of keej iag them in igno- rance of what they themselves are. The followiag anecdote will illustrate our meaning. Some years since, a g- rl, four or five years old, accompanied her mothei to prison. The child having learned that there was another in the prison about her own age, wished to see her, and inquired if she remained all alone in her own room. " For," said the child, " when we are at homo, mother puts me to bed very early, to go and see papa." Being asked who her father was, she replied, " I don't know; I never saw him; I only hear him in the next room at night, when he talks, and laughs, and makes a noise with mamma." TO MY NOSE. Knows he who never took a pinch, Nosey the pleasure thence that flows, Knows he the titillating glows Which my nose knows ? 0 nose, I am as proud of thee As any mountain of its s- nose! 1 gaze on thee, and feel that joy— A Roman nose. It is related of Dr. Busby, that sleeping one day at the academy, Counsellor Erskine said to his pupil, " There is our learned doctor, who sleeps like a pig." Busby, who overheard him, raised his head and exclaimed, " Every part of a pig is good, but the whole of an ass is worth nothing." Walking, I saw a girl of ipatchless grace, And ran five steps before to see her face; She quickly turned to me— but, on my life, I reeled ten back, for—' twas my wife! J. WOODHAM. High Holborn. N. T. Hicks opens at the Standard, on Easter Monday. He has a wild savage part. Mrs. H. is the leading lady, but she is too small to play to him, for since he has been at the Britannia he has got bigger than ever. Douglass should certainly provide' a large female, if it's only for the sake of stage effect. Observing some very fine fowls in the yard at the back of tlie Surrey, Miss Ponisi inquired of Mrs. Shepherd, " If a cock was masculine or feminine?" " Oh, masculine, my dear, certainly," was the answer; " although some grammarians argue that it is frequently in the feminine gender." TOWN OUT OF TOWN- BANBURY. GULLIVER'S, " THE LONDON," PARSON'S- STREET.— This house is becoming the head- quarters for all the small- talk and scandal of the town. It is rumoured that Potts, the paper- hanger, has created quite a sensation in his place by his wholesale puffing. Some wo- men were canvassing, in front of the bar, the reason why he didn't put his address in the papers. " Lor bless you," said Taylor's old woman, " every body knows where to find him. There are many kinds of pots in the town, but every body knows what sort of pot Billy is." Mother Parkes, we are informed, does really intend to have ano- ther field- day on the 11th. All the young fellows in the town are quite excited, as it is reported the dear girl has got some very great curiosities to show. THE STRAY SIZE- STICK OF CHURCH ROW, COM- MERCIAL ROAD EAST. Young Gibbs he is a man of pluck, Who works hard at the leather, And, by putting ladies feet to rights, Keeps things well together. One day whilst at a certain house ( Few thought there to find him), In haste to measure ladies frail, His " size- stick " left behind him. 4 THE TOWN. 3 TALES OF THE TOWN. MRS. LOKIMER SPINKS; OB, THE MARRIED LADY THAT WAS A LITTLE TOO GAY. CHAPTER IH. HANNAH GROWS COMMUNICATIVE— THE FAXE OP A DRESS LODGER.* It was a large back- room on the ground floor into which Mrs. Shadrach hurriedly desired or rather pushed the young creature whom we described as entering the house in our last chapter; and, requesting her " to vait for a minute, as she must attend to ter ladv vot had fainted avay," she left her. " God help me," ex- claimed the girl, as the door closed, " I must wait, for, alas, I have now no will of my own!" There was something about the beauteous creature ( for, amidst the wreck and ruin of nature's decay, there was that remaining which showed she had indeed once been surpassing lovely) that insensibly attracted attention; she was evidently far above the position which a cruel destiny appeared about to place her in. Seating herself upon a chair, she took a view of the apartment. We said it was a large room— it was a very large room, and the furniture was of an old- fashioned, cumbrous character; a large screen, covered with French pictures, redolent of all the gross licentiousness of the voluptuous Parisians, extended across one- third of the room, and a number of paintings hung upon the walls, in which the loves of Venus and Adonis, Solomon's Judg- ment, a full- length portrait of Archbishop Tillotson, several illus- trations of Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, jostled, in singular contrariety, with a view of the mysteries of the notorious White House, women bathing in the seraglio, and a bacchanalian scene. In the farther corner of the room was a small door, which com- municated with another room or closet; the key was upon the floor, and from beneath the door was a bit of tape, and several articles of female wearing apparel lay scattered upon a chair and the floor near to it, as if some one had recently hastily left the chamber. One side of the apartment was filled with a very large beaufet, surmounted with a glass cupboard; the keys were in the lock, and the door being open exhibited the contents of the place, consisting of a quantity of books, china, and passover biscuits.— Notwithstanding the season of the year, there had been drizzling rain, which had fallen during the day and caused a chilly damp- ness in the atmosphere; hence there was a large fire burning in the handsome modern stove. " I am very cold," exclaimed the girl, " and faint," she added, in a lower tone, as she advanced towards the fire; and as she spoke she removed from her shoulders a thin crape shawl or handker- chief, and proceeded to dry it. " I was low- spirited," she con- tinued, " ere I came here, but this place seems to have cast a chill over me; there is a horrible foreboding upon my mind which I cannot shake off as if something was going to happen to me; I know that it is silly, very silly— perhaps it's the appearance of the room," and, as she spoke, she looked round the apartment. Her thoughts were interrupted by the door suddenly opening, and old Hannah the servant, whom we introduced in our last chapter, entered; casting her eye quickly round, as if to observe whether anything had been removed, she said," I beg your pardon my dear, but Missus sent me to ask if you'd take a drop of any- thing whilst you was waiting; she won't be long, and then she will arrange with you." The young girl, who, having dried her shawl, was placing it about her upon the entrance of Hannah, was somewhat embar- rassed by her sudden entrance, for the absence of that article ex- posed the faded threadbare character of the upper portion of her dress, and she, therefore, with considerable faltering in her tone, unswered, " No, thank you— no, thank you; I'd rather not." " Nonsense," replied Hannah, " It'ill do you good, my girl; have a drop of gin, or rum, if you prefer it, for we are always obliged to keep both in the house for the ladies;" and perceiving that the young creature looked surprised, she continued, " Lord bless you, mv child, you seem thunderstruck; we are compelled to give away a tidyish drop to the girls who use our house; its always looked for, and Missus is anything but a screw ; but you'll understand these things better by- and- bye; you'll find after you've been at 1 his life a little time, you'll be obliged to take a drop just to keep your spirits up like; why, there was Polly Devenport; I recollect her when she first came here, she was just like you, perhaps a little stouter," she added, and casting a glance at her attenuated figure: " she was as shy as a starling, would'nt touch anything— but could'nt she drink at last; gin, rum, brandy, everything you oould mention; I dare say her father, when he was getting ready to go ta his work on a Sunday, never thought his daughter was up in London carrying on such a game." " Work on a Sunday!" said the young girl, surprised; for even the chattering of Hannah had interested her, so sensitive is the mind, when in trouble, to anything like variety; " why, what work could he do on a Sunday ? what was he ?" " Oh," replied Hannah, with a laugh, " there's plenty of work done on a Sunday, plenty even in this house ; that sometimes is our busiest day, as you'll find if you stay with us ; ah! but I see," she continued in a pitying tone, " you don't understand. You asked me what Polly's father was ; well, he was'nt exactly a par- son, although he preached sqmetimes, that is, he could preach when he liked ; he was a very high eliap in his way, and they called him a dean." " Devenport! a dean! gracious heavens ! why, surely it could not be—" " Oh, no, my dear," interrupted Hannah, " don't flurry yourself, you could'nt have known her, there was'nt one in fifty that knew her by that name, and it was only by accident, after her death, that I found that out." " Dead!" exclaimed the girl, " what, then, is she dead ?" " Yes," answered Hannah, looking cautiously round her, " she died in that very room," pointing to the small chamber before al- luded to:—" and it's only about an hour sincel commenced clearing up that room for you; those are some of her things lying upon that chair; you'll find it a very comfortable little room, for there's another entrance to it by a door in the yard, so that you don't have to come through this place ; its rather untidy now, for in- deed there has been no one in it for the last month ; poor Polly, she took the drink, she, said to drown care; at last it made her drown herself, like a fool." Strange thoughts were rushing through the mind of the poor girl, who, borne down with fatigue, and faint from long absti- nence, had, upon her first essay to become a dress- lodger, heard from the gossiping servant a recital that awakened painful asso- ciations, and connected recollections and characters singularly linked with her ( the listener's) early life. " Your story is a very singular one," said the young girl, endeavouring to appear calm; " I feel quite interested— tell me, how, then, did she die ?" " If you'll let me persuade you to have a drop of something I will, for this story gives me the blues." Her companion, more from the desire of hearing the story than to have the drink, nodded ac- quiescence, and taking the keys, she, from a small cupboard produced a decanter- stand and a couple of glasses. " I don't know which you like— here's both ; I shall have a drop of rum," and as she spoke, she poured down her throat a bumper, exclaiming, " Here's better fortune, my dear; that's an excellent drop of rum," she said. " I wish you'd taste it, my girl— it's what we call kosher rum, that is, the rum the Jews have for the Passover; but I was going to tell you about Polly." " Yes, do, do," was the response. " Well, you must know, then— Lord bless me, that is a fine drop of rum; it's all right," she added, looking towards the door, and listening for a moment. " I must have another drop, if it kills me ! Do you know, my child," she continued, perceiving that the other looked surprised, " the late hours here render me so subject to the spasms, that this rum is the only thing that does me good" — and she illustrated her observation by tossing off another bumper. " I hope you will not have spasms before you can tell me the story," said the young girl, with a faint smile upon her coun- tenance. " God keep us, I hope not!" answered Hannah, in a lachrymose tono; " however, you must know, this poor Polly was in the habit of going over to see a friend of her's that she had known in the country, of the name of Lizzy Baker, that lived with another girl, in a street near the Victoria Theatre : by- the- bye, she was here not half an hour back; well, Palmer, that is the name Polly went by, often had strange fits ; she was what they call cranky at times, and then she'd talk about her father and her home, and the colonel that seduced her, which, after all, you know, my dear, is only nonsense, because what we're born to we're sure to come to. Why, I've seen her sitting in that very chair you are now sitting on, after she had been at the Piccadi41y Saloon, and had seven or eight pounds, cry, like rain, for half an hour together, about her mother and her sisters ; but, however, one afternoon she was very much down on her luck ; it was last Good Friday ; she would go over and see Liz. ; she staid there till eleven o'clock at night. I never could understand what they had been talking about, but you know there was no places open, for Good Friday is a very melancholy sort of day, so she was obliged to come home over the bridge, and when she came to about the middle she took it in her head that her mother, who, I should tell you was dead, and therefore it could'nt be lier, was in the water, beckoning to her, and thereupon she makes no more to do but over the bridge she goes ! She did not die then; perhaps it would have been bet- ter if she had, for rare trouble W3 had with her! She was picked up by a waterman, and at the public- house where they took her, there were some girls who knew her, and then they brought her home here, and, about four o'clock the next day, she died in that very room. I found two letters in her stays, and we sent to her father, but the old scoundrel never come near, but sent some law- yer chap, who, after putting us to all the trouble he could, and bullying missus and master, never gave us a farthing. I believe they buried her somewhere up by Highgate ; however, it was very quietly done. Don't you think the old father was a wretch ?" " A wretch, indeed !" answered her companion, with con- siderable emotion, " Alas ! poor Ellen, your's was indeed a dread- ful end." " Holloa! holloa!" ejaculated Hannah, quickly, " who the devil told you her name was Ellen 1 why, gracious me, how bad you do look ! now, do, do take something ; I shall get in a rare row if missus comes in. I had no idea you knew her ; who are you ? what's your name t surely you're not one of her sisters Y' " Never mind who I am; call me Clara, my good woman, Clara Rodwell." " Well, then, Miss Clara, I insist upon your taking something ; but," she added, as a sudden thought struck her, " perhaps you'd rather have something to eat— a cup of tea or so V " I have not tasted food," said Clara, bursting into a flood of tears, " since yesterday morning." " Lor' bless me, my dear child, why did'nt you say so before ? I'll run directly ; we've a nice bit of cold roast mutton, and some beautiful baked potatoes. You won't mind my leaving you ; I'll be back in an instant;" and, uttering these words, she hastily left the apartment. Clara's feelings were of the most poignant character, and as she gazed in the looking- glass, upon which was placed some papers containing carmine, violet powder, and the other artificial aids to attraction, brought into use by unfortunate creatures who use these places, she muttered, " Alas, I shall never require these, for few could even know me now!" As she continued looking in the glass, she saw, or fancied she saw, the small door gradually open. She looked again, the door was opening, and a feeble light was seen in the chamber where her poor friend had breathed her last ; she could not be mistaken, and as she turned round from the glass, she beheld the aperture of the door filled up by a figure: it was a man in Persian costume, bearing a countenance of more than unearthly hideousness; the figure was the Marquis de St. C , the licentious admirer of Mrs. Spinks. It was scarcely the work of a second, for the next moment he disappeared. [ To be continued.] * A most absurd mistake C. ) was made last week by the printer, in this Tale, and we must beg of our readers to refer to their last chapter. After the words, " What do you mean, exclaimed both," the printer has placed a line of stars— these stars appear there in consequence of his having lost • three pages of copy, and not taking the trouble to send to the author to repair the loss, he substituted the stars. It is necessary, therefore, for us to inform our readers, with a view to their correctly understanding the story, that Hannah and the two women repair to the public house— that a young, genteely dressed man came out of the house with the proprietor, Mr. Shradrach, and his wife, and it appears that the young man ia valet to a '' n •" mi mnrrjuis, who is waiting somewhere in the neighbourhood, Th? ' rrls in our hist number. WIT AMONGST THE WITLERS. BIRD'S, KINGSLAND- ROAD. It is the evening of that day When godly folks to church repair, And straight- laced coves, with " chokers" white, Groan by the hour, and call it prayer— There is a sound floats on the air, Giving to passers- by much pain, Vilely outraging all decent rule— The cries are, " Bravo, Teddy Wayne!" The judge and jury, each Sabbath night, Is thronged with brats— a motly lot— Who pay their penny, then ape the man, And blow their baccy o'er their pot. Shame on thee, Bird, thus to permit, For a paltry one night's gain, Unhallowed jokes and filthy slang, '"*•-.. With brothel- wit from Teddy Wayne. * The diabolical filthy meeting held here on the Sunday evening, and called a Judge and Jury, is presided over by a low, smutty- tongued fellow of the name of Wayne: some of the trials are of too horrible a character even to hint at a description of. Why does not Mr. Bird remain in the room and put some check on Mister Wayne ? His jests in the presence of females, will one day gain him his deserts— a kicking. GEORGE AND ITH DRAGON, GREEK- STREET, SOIIO, JOHN PARKY. ( Late Stage- manager of the Queen's). All hail to thee, Jack, may good fortune thee tend— Sure fortune ne'er can wait on a better— For despite paltry foes— and who's them without— You're a trump, for a pal, to the letter. Like your prototype George, you'll in the end victor be— Though humbugs may oft put the brag- on— You'll find friends, a host, to lend a strong hand To ride George over any Green dragon. FAIRBROTHER'S, WHITE HART- STREET, DRURY- LANE. Fairbrother— great and glorious name,—• How shall we chaunt thy well- earned fame ? Prince of printers! why has't thou cut the types, And ta'en to drawing gin and vending swipes ? Jolly buffer— glorious incarnation of a brick— Long, long may it be ere time shall " fill thy stick." Actor's advertiser! millions thou hast given to fame, And neglected mummers raised unto a name. As host thou call'st for the TOWN'S support, " ' Tis thine, lad," for, in truth, thou art a good sort. THE POWERFUL, WOOLWICH.— MOULDS. MOULDS is a jolly dog, and civil, And wishes water- drinkers at the devil ; His house is used by many a social guest, He'll treat you well, and serve you with the best. His concert long has gained vast renown, Tho singers are tho pick of London town. His grog the test we e'er in Woolwich tasted f Give him ft e » U< yow %\ m ' 11 be noS waatsdi Hotter to ( Eomspotrtents. All communications must be forwarded to " the Editor of THE TOWN," 34, Holywell- street. G. R. R.— Y ( Walworth).— We are obliged for your good opinion — Pandering to the vices of either of the extremes of society is bad in principle and precedent. THE TOWN would no more let off the pauper than the premier; and moral England, perhaps, still looks upon the middle- class as the citadel of her virtue, although there is a good deal of very questionable ammunition, even, in the maga- zines of that vaunted fortress. The powder does not always sinell of propriety, nor are the arms always clean and pure. Still, it is admitted that the most ruinous enemies of the social system are engendered chiefly among the very high and the very low, the for- mer refining upon their debauchery, and the latter wallowing in the very stirae of their brutality and sin— the peerage and piggery of infamy. RUMBO ( Little Chelsea).— You allude to the once- notorious Mother Cummings. She has been dead three- and- twenty years. She began life as a street- walker, and, by gradual degrees of infamy, rose to rank and fortune. Every buck and blood in London was acquainted with her nunneries in Dyot- street and Buckeridge- market ; and she more than once had royalty under her roof as a customer. She left behind her, to a fancy man— one house in Dyot- street, wherein were kept twenty ' Angels of the Sun,' and which made up forty- five beds ; two more in the market,' with single, double and treble beds, to accommodate sixty human beings each; and one, a first- rate house; where there were only five shilling binneys ( beds) for the use of single men— and their wives; besides these— twenty- three private dwellings, her house in Bed- ford- place, where she died, and 10,0001. in cash, | all earnings of prostitution. Nothing good can be said of such a life as hers ; but, as lady abbesses and nunneries are tolerated, ' tis but justice to say, that no one was ever openly robbed under her roof, and she only practised extortion upon those who could afford to lose. PETER M— Y ( Birmingham), informs U3 that the long tailor has been to Paris for a few weeks, and is stunning his pals at Joe Stinton's with the curiosities he has brought home. " Rich and rare are the prints he's bought, And an't he on them nutty ? There's maidens gay, who've gone astray, In positions rayther smutty." Bravo, Peter— you're a brick ! PEEPABOUT has sent us a dreadful lot of verses about some house near the Eagle, City- road, which we take to be of a very naughty character. Our correspondent says :— " There was a lamp in the passage at night, To light the frail and fair; And those that came, sure they played a game, That made poor decency stare." * * * * It was our intention from the first to do as you suggest. Our " Banbury correspondent" will oblige us by writing again. S. M. ( Bristol.)— R— I— G. P. D. fLong Acre)— are all informed that there is no mistake about the bill at H.' s : we have the ori- ginal document by us. Bad as they are, however, they are not so bad as some of their neighbours; they do not POISON their victims. W e are only waiting for a letter from Stockton- on- Tees, and another from Chichester, and shall then have some terrible exposures to publish. E. J. Febbard, Agnes- street, Waterloo- road, is thanked, and his communication shall be attended to. TO ADVERTISERS. s. d. Advertisements not exceeding 10 lines, single insertion 4 O Every additional line o 3 A liberal allowance on several insertions. All advertisements must; be sent to the Office on Thursday at the latest. TIT- BITS FOR GENTLEMEN. " ~ EIGHT SPICY PLATES, a la Franjaise, One Shilling - post- paid, Is. 6d. SPICE NUTS, a charming collection of delicious pictures, for Bachelors' parties, Is.; post- paid, Is 6d BEAUTY OF WOMAN, six coloured French plates, by Dizier" 3s. 6d. PRETTY GIRLS OF LONDON, twelve drawings] splendidly coloured, 10s. 6d.; postage, Is. 6d. 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