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The Town

01/01/1849

Printer / Publisher: W. Winn 
Volume Number:     Issue Number: 45
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The Town

Date of Article: 01/01/1849
Printer / Publisher: W. Winn 
Address: 34, Holywell street, Strand
Volume Number:     Issue Number: 45
No Pages: 4
Sourced from Dealer? No
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[ BY H, a. BROOKS] May be had complete in One Part, Price Two Shillings. Sent, per Post, by adding Six Postage StemtM. NO. 45. ] Each Part may be sent, per Post, b" attaching Six Stamps; or sent, direct from t PUBLISHED WEEKLY. MCC lil. ] K'l* ]) OSt 2( 1 • ( , he offi ™ , for Eighteen Stamps- J For remote parts, Single Copies may bo sent direct from the Office, for a Postage Stamps, or 26 Stamps per Quarter. •' THE TRIUMPH OF VENUS. TALEiS OF LONDON LIFE.— No. 2. MODEST MABTHA; OK, THE MYSTERIES OF LONDON STREETS. BT H. G. BPOOKS, AUTHOR 0] F " MRS. LORIMER SPINKS." It will be remembered by our readers that we left Lady Ai ding in the garden awaiting the return of Driscoll, she heard with alarm the outcry in the street and tbe departure of the vehicle, and judging that some new misfortune had occurred to mar her schemes with Tespect to Modest Martha and the Pemberton family, she hastened to her apartment fearing lest she should be discovered. It was fortunate that she was not long in coming to this con- clusion, or the result might have ended in a more unpleasant encontre, than the one we shall have presently to narrate. rscacrely had she turned the angle] of the walk leading to her room, when Rose entered with lier companion, who was noothet than the person whose name has been so often introduced in the course of this tale— The Weazel-, which name, for the present, we will call him by. Rose gazed around the garden with astonishment, tbe Weazel, perceiving her surprise, said, " You seem surprised, I sup- pose you know where you are?" " I guess," was the short answer. The female it appeared, from the conversatiou which ensued, was correct as to the name of tbe proprietor of the place in which she was standing, and then the Weazel proceeded severly to censure her for her conduct, and charged her with having be- trayed him. It was evident there were strong ties between these two beings, for as the dark and dirty looking creature made this accusation, a tear stole down the cheek of the girl, and with con- siderable emotion, she exclaimed :— " Oh ! Edward, say not that— say not that I intended to betray you, all that I have done to night was for tliebest."^ " Have you not frustrated my plans, and, but for my timely " ar- rival would r. ot Martha have escaped." In answer to this charge, the girl, who, as our readers may have guessed, was the mistress of the Weazel, and had been sent by him to watch the house of Pemberton, declared that" her feel- ings had been so led away upon seeing Captain Driscoll, who had seduced her younger sister, and brought ilQt to a suicide's gray she betrayed him to Sam Rivers. " I can understand your motives," answered the man. " But your feelings of vengeance against this Driscoll must not inter- fere with business— his time is not yet come. The coast is now clear, you must make all haste to Westminster, and let onrfriends there know what has taken place— and yet, upon second consider- ation, it will be dangerous for you to proceed through the streets in that dress, it will lead to detection— no, you must be concealed here a short time— follow me." The Weazel was right in his conjecture, as ' to the coast being cleared, the three men who had seized the watchman as described in the last chapter, after gagging him, left him fastened to the railings of one of the houses, where he was found shortly after- wards by the patrol; and the result was, an alarm being raised, the senseless bodies of Sam and the coachman were found, and conveyed immediately te the hospital. ~ Return we to Lady Arding, language is! inadequate to convey the turmoil that reigned in her breast when she entered her cham* ber, wildly she gazed around her, and with a feeling almost ap- proximating to madness, she flung herself upon the couch that had so often borne the impress of the form of Herbert Leslie; she felt, that, for him she had risked, dared everything, and she had bpfore her the bare probability of the shadow of a chance of sue. 90 T H E TOWN. cess. She arose from her seat, and paced the apartment for several minutes, violently agitated. " Curses light upon this, Martha," she exclaimed, ' would to heaven I had never seen her, or hers— misery, trouble, pain, and anguish, has been only brought with their name." Impressed with this idea, and muttering curses of the most fearful character against the family of the Pembertons, she again seated herself upon the sofa, and it was whilst buried in re- flection she thought, or fancied she thought she heard the sound of footsteps upon the staircase leading to her apartment. " It is Leslie," she exclaimed, springing to her feet as the sound drew nearer and seemed to confirm her opinion. " I was de- ceiveed, he has not been arrested, he is not a prisoner." " Oh Leslie— Leslie, my beloved, you know not what I have suffered— come— come to me— and I will explain to you all that I have done, all that I have dared for your preservation." As she uttered these words, she rushed to the window, and whilst endeavouring to unfasten it, she felt convinced the ap- proaching footsteps were those of her lover. " Herbert," she whispered, rather than spoke, " Herbert, is it you." The question was answered by a tap upon the window. " Is it you?" said her ladyship. There was no answer. " Great God," she enunciated, " is it possible that he has been injured ?" There was another pause, and the knocking upon the window was repeated, followed by the words, in a low tone of voice, " open the casement." Lady Arding had her hand upon the fastening of the window ; but, although she had but little doubt the request proceeded from Leslie, she involuntarily exclaimed, " who's there?" " Open the casement, Louisa," was the response. Lady Arding grasped thechair, to prevent her from fallinsr, for there was something In the tone of the voice that ran through her frame with electrifying effect. " Impossible, impossible," she muttered, " it cannot— must not be him!" Whatever change might have taken place in her opinion as to the person who was demanding admittance to her apartment, it was not sufficient to command even the presence of mind found in persons habituated to scenes like the one we are describing. But little time was allowed her ladyship for reflection, quicker than we can narrate, the window was forced open, and the man whom we have hitherto described as the Wearzel, leaped into the room. The dirty, ragged, ruffianly appearance of the new comer — notwithstanding he bore the inpress of great physical prowess— ( now that Lady Arding felt he was a stranger) had no effect upon her; and although she recoiled for a moment, by reason of the suddeness of his entrance, she now advanced boldly towards him, and, seizing him by the collar, exclaimed— jj*" Villian, who are you, and what means this intrusion ?" " So you don't know me now" was the answer cooly. " Well, Lew, I won't hurt you— although you pretend not to know either your brother or your brother's wife." And as the man uttered these words, he who was no other than the Weazel, drew into the apartment, Rose Hartland " Great God," she exclaimed, " it is, indeed, my brother." [ An accident, at the moment of our going to Press, compels us to abbreviate the tale of " Modest Martha" this week.] WHAT } S A BULLY? This is a question we have once or twice, in days gone by, been asked, but, thanks to the improvement in the new police, they are a race that have nearly ceased to exist. In the " good old times" the Bully was as requisite in a brothel as a clergyman in a pulpit, his business being to rob, to bluster, to row, and sometimes to fight. In the latter accomplishment he assumed to be an adept, yet it has often occurred that he has got severely chastised by men of courage for his impudence. In days gone by, robberies were frequently practised by stratagems, similar to the following:— a prostitute, in her walks, having picked up a greenhorn, would lead him'to her lodging in a neighbouring brothel, and assume a great affection for him. While the mutual caressing was going forward, the Bully would burst into the apartment and claim the female as his wife, at, the same time threatening to throw the un- lucky wight, who was caught in the trap, out of the window. This preconcerted plan generally extorted a sum of money from the fiat, under the fear of a pair of black eyes or a broken neck, the dread of an exposure under such circumstances only deter a respectable man from offering resistance. In short, the Bully, in nine cases out of ten, is a lazy prig, who is too indolent, or too great a coward to go out picking pockets. CROSS READINGS FROM PAPERS. THE MORNING R A BIT OF COUNTRY LOVE. ABOUT seventeen— when woman, dear woman, exercises such power over us— no matter what complexion— from the beauti- The Queen, it is said, intends spending a few days with .... the Judge and Jury Club, Bow Street, Covent Garden. Lord Brougham has lately been seriously indisposed, but we are happy to pronounce him sound, free from vice, and perfectly safe in double or single harness. A few days ago, a poor woman was safely delivered of. . . two sergeants, one inspector, and twelve policemen, all in plain clothes. Great concern was yesterday excited at the West- end of Town, in consequence of His Royal Highness Prince Alberthaving .... eaten twenty- six penny eel pies, for a wager often shillings. The British and Foreign Bible Society, have given away 5,000i more this year for ... . the final settlement of the question of the champion's belt, between Caunt and Bendigo. Mr. Cobden has offered to discuss the question of the Russian Loan with .... Mr. Osbaldiston and Miss Vincent, in their last new drama, every evening next week. All the published numbers of the Town are .... a certain cure for the gout, dropsy, and cholic. We are authorised to state, that His Royal Prince Albert. . wishes for a situation as pot- man, in any respectable tavern or beer shop. Married yesterday, at St. George's, Hanover Square, the Hon. Mr. , to Lady Louisa . After the ceremony, the happy pair set off to spend the honeymoon at the Royal Small Pox Hospital, King's Cross. His Grace the Duke of Wellington, has recently purchased an immense stock of Ladies' under- clothing and choicc Baby- linen, unusually cheap. We are informed, that Miss Burdett Coutts has subscribed the munificent snm of one thousand guineas for relieving a couple of street walkers, who were fined five shillings for being drunk. The Pope has positively interdicted an ... . Harmonic meeting FUNNY STORIES FOR FUNNY PEOPLE. ful blonde with her soft blue eyes, with that languishing ex- 1 every evening, at Stunning Joe Banks', pression, to the handsome brunette with her dark hair and her bright black eyes, sufficient to fire the coolest philosopher with desires that man cannot control— well, as I said, about seven- teen, I became acquainted with a girl of the same age, and, o course, very beautiful, at a friend's; and I began to pay some attention to her more than others, which she acknowledged with one of her bewitching smiles. I was so far advanced in her favour as to let fall some expressions rather more tender than so young an acquaintance might sanction ; at which, how- ever, she only hung down her head and blushed, but I thought I could detect a smile of gratified pleasure at my avowal of something nearer than friendship. When about leaving to go home, I learned she had to go about two miles. I of course requested permission to accompany her a part of the way at least. She consented with a smile and a blush, and we were soon on the way. As our road was rather lonely, we could hold sweet converse without interruption, steal a kiss occasionally, and indulge in those little freedoms lovers ought to do when no one else is near. With my arm encircling her waist, and her left hand in my right, I spoke my love for her, and how she had taken my heart by storm at first sight. I felt a slight pressure of the hand, as she raised her lovely eyes to mine. With a sigh that added fuel to the fire which was already burning within me, she expressed a doubt as to the sincerity of my ardent protestations. I was a little diseon • certed at this, but I soon succeeded in calming her fears on that subject. We walked on in silence a little. We reached a footpath across a meadow leading to her home. The delicious coolness of the night, greatly enhanced by the silvery brightness of the moon, induced us to pause by a stile. I began to expatiate upon the beauty of the scene before us— then something about the stars and her eyes— I do not exactly know what— but she blushed, and in a voice which contradicted her words, called me flatterer and so on. We walked on a little, kissing and toying, squeezing and sighing; and whether it was the dew on the grass that made it slippery, I do not know: I only know that I fell and she had a slip— and we found ourselves lying down on the meadow. I could see she was not displeased, despite the " Oh, don't Richard!— don't! you are really too bad!" I proceeded to further liberties, and finding my advances were met with equal warmth, I went on until suddenly she exclaimed, in a voice and with a manner very different to what she had before assumed—" I'm blowed, here's a queer start! If there arn't my Jack coming across the field with his bull- dog Tyke; and won't he take a gripe out of your behind if he catches you." QUESTIONABLE ACQUAINTANCES. MARRIAGE. Men marry at twenty for passion ; At thirty for love; At forty for money; At fifty for the sake of being fondled. One man marries a woman because she moves well when she dances: she probably never moves her legs afterwards. Another man marries because the lady has a handsome leg and foot: after marriage he never thinks of looking so low. A third marries lor money, and finds that his wife does not choose to die to complete his satisfaction. A fourth, being old in wisdom and years, marries a young girl, who soon becomes a suitable match for him by growing old with grief. We have, however, the felicity of knowing a gen- tleman, residing in Holywell- street, who told his wife he mar- ried her because she was beautiful, plentiful, and an armful! Dear reader of the Town, did you ever have the quenchless misery to meet a fellow in the street, who would not be shaken off, whose name, perhaps, you could not for your veriest existence tell, if called upon, or even recollect where you have seen him before. To annoyances of this character, we slightly adverted in No. 42. Many of our " stunning stunners," " clippers," " fast meu," or whatever name you choose to designate them by, have their vanity and swellish pluck taken down in the streets, and their pride torn down for their fast curiosity. For example, it is two o'clock, and although very cold, there is a crush of people on the pavement in Regent Street; just glance your eye at that heavy swell, picking his footsteps across the road; twig the build of his paletot; ocularize the bend of his patent leather; there's an archi- tectural arrangement in the fall of his waistcoat and the colour of his linen, that denoteth most plainly he goeth the pace. He stops, his eye has caught the glance of a pair of sparkling black peepers, pertaining to a female form, lolling iu exquisite ease in the corner of the approaching carriage. It advances to the door of Jullien's Musical ( Repository. " By heavens," he exclaims, " it is the Countess of M—; 110 harm in having a quiet squint at her— and just see what sort of pins she's got." Our swell plants himself opposite the door ; the splendid steed dash up to the spot, and almost fall upon their haunches, from the suddenness of the pull- up ; the carriage gives one heavy sudden swing, and down drops Johnny, with his cane and mottled calves, as nimble as a monkey. Our swell peruses the lady with all the intensity of a zealot, and fancies that her gaze at hi. n is net of the description termed un- favourable. She is winking at him, and positively smiles- Having sunned his eyes in beauty, he prepares to move on, when his attention is arrested by the impudent gaze of a dirty boy, who shouts, " Oh crikey's, joe, here's a stunning lark; twig the_ blpke\ didcy." The swell peruses his outer man in the shop- window, and finds his peerless waistcoat aud pearly shirt splendidly em- bellished with mud, the result of t. he sudden pull- up. No wonder the lady looked— no wonder she smiled— no wonder the swell un- gallantly d— ns both her and the carriage. Take another char- acter; look at that top- sawyer looking cove, with sandy whis- kers ; he is pluming himself upon the matchless cut and texture of his black surtout. He rolls along the Strand and Ackerman's window attracts his optics; the recherche prints must have j ustice done them by his criticism; he gazes, and his wrapt in contempla- tion. On leaving the magazine of arts, a person touches him slightly, observing, " Your coat, sir, is rather white." He of the sandy whiskers and the surtout finds one half of him admirably pow- dered. On looking back t> Ackermans's shop, he perceixes a very long baker investigating the window. The master of the rolls had been rubbing against him during his connoisseurship of plates. Flour plays the deuce with cloth, and is fatal to velv « t. That gentleman of middle age, who has juvenility enough left to have his toggery executed by Nugee, is favoured with an arm of au important looking adult, who has been persuaded 011 the repre- sentation of the former's respectability, to do a bill for him in the city. All goes smoothly enough until they arrive in Fleet- street, when a stout looking gentleman, with a huge stick, and a Hebrew bast of features, takes off his hat to the middle- aged one. " Pray, sir, who is your friend?" exclaims the imporsant- looking adult. " Ob, my dear sir, no friend, I assure you; the person who has just passed us bows to every body, sir." " But who is he, sir?" " Why, my dear sir, his name is Sol. Levy, he's attached to the Sheriff of Middlesex." " Oh ! indeed, sir. You must really excuse me, but I shall decline doing the bill for you, aud there- fore, sir, good morning." A FARMER ouee planted his onions close to his poppies, and the consequence was that they grew so sleepy that he never could get them out of their beds. HOW LPUT. MERRYCOCK LOST ONE SWEET- HEART AND MARRIED ANOTHER Sir George Cockliurn calls himself Coburn, and Jack Merry- cock, of H. M. S. Thetis, called himself Lieut. Mc- rryco.— with all our hearts ; but Merrycock was his name spelt, and Merrycock we write him. In 184—, Jack was staying in Devopport, his lodgings were near Mount Wise, and his heart was devoted to' a pretty girl in Stoneliouse. Jack's financial arrangements were not so good as they might, have been, and he scarcely knew how to resist the temptation off- red him in the buxom person of his landlady's daughter, with 2,0002. at her command on attaining the age of twenty- one, and the prospect of succeeding to the savings of her mother, the widow of a purser, who had made a heavily filled chest during the war- time. The lady had one fault, she was red- headed. Now, it is a popular prejudice, that young ladies, whose hair partakes of the fiery, are in their temperaments, their passions, and their feelings, correspondingly warm. Jack did not like them cold, and so he forgave Jemima Allcroft her red head, for the sake of— her antithesis. Duns were pressing our hero, and some immediate course was to be persued to rid him of his difficulties; there were sundry bills of his in the market— little rascally acceptances there was no getting over— he had written to his father, the admiral, and received cheque after cheque, till that source of relief was stopped, and he had no other at which to fly. What then was to be done? Nothing, but marry Jemima out of hand, pay off the little press- ing matters, pocket the remaining surplus, and trust to interest, perseverance, and his friends, for promotion. There was a stumbling- block in the way to be sure, in the shape of the pretty little girl before alluded to— Emma Dawson of Stonehouse. Jack loved Emma with all his heart, and his soul and his life, and it went sadly against his conscience to think even of wedding the carrotty Jem— albeit Jemmy would doubt- less prove a rollicking companion, in a tour throueh Bedfordshire. His introduction to Emma took place at a little dance, and when the guests were leaving, Jack could not find his cap. High and low they hunted for it, but all iu vain ; at last, Emma searching everywhere, run into an apartment, where it was least likely to be found— her own bed- chamber, and Merrycock followed her, as in duty bound. There was nolight, so they bobbed their heads to- gether in the dark, and their was a good deal of giggling, and some kissing, and, perhaps, a little struggling; but be that as it may, whatever else they found, they did not catch the cap ; and though— devil take it! the little article continued missing, if there was nothing more, there certainly was an understanding between the young lady and gentleman. Meetings were difficult of arrangement with the lovers, Jack could only visit his fair one in the presence of her parents, and therefore as Jack could not go to see Emma ; when the old people were gone to bed, Emma used to creep softly out, and go and see Jack. It was to be expected, that at their years, when hope was high, and the blood coursed freely through their veins, they would have a good deal to talk about; and somehow or other, pretty Emma Dawson, never got home again till after broad daylight in the. morning ; but as she got out, so she got in, and— quantum tuf. Now this same game was played out by that rascal, Jack Merrycock, while he was engaged to his landlady's daughter, Jemima Allcroft, and Emma Dawson knew nothing of his pro- posed marriage. It was a wet autumn night that Emma was to be at the corner of Jack's street, at twelve o'clock, and Jack was to meet her. True to his appointment he came. " Very cold, my darling," said he,; " but there's some hot sup- per waiting for us at my place; they are all gone to bed, we shall soon be warm and comfortable, and do you know, I'm ter- ribly cold." He whispered something else, we don't know what, but the lady gave him a playful slap on the facc, as they passed down the street. When they reached the house, Jack inserted his latch- key, and the next moment they stood on the door- mat within the hall. " D n that door," whispered Jack. " it goes harder than ever. Now, my love, as those stairs creak awfully, we must practice the old dodge." As he spoke, he lifted the fair girl in his arms, and began to mount— mount the stairs we mean of course. Well, it so happened that Merrycock had taken his full share of brandy and water, and stumbled, ere he gained a dozen steps. " Put me down, put me down, Jack, love, we shall be found out," cried the lady. " Of course we shall," replied the gentleman, " if you talk. Get on my back." " I can't, Jack, I can't. Oh ! dear me, I wish I hadn't come." " There," said the lieutenant, stooping down quite low, •' now you can get up. Astride? To be sure, that's the only way," and Jack moved up. All seemed for the moment well. Emma was high in air on Jack's back, and Jack was climbing ; but the Devil of mischance could, not let them off. As we have already said, it was a wet night, and Emma had put on pattens ; these she had forgotten till now : one of them dropped off, and then the other, and both went clattering step after step, all the way down the oil- clothed stairs. There was a whispering above, and then a door opened, and an old lady, with a flannel petticoat, about her head, popped on the landine, rushlight in hand. Horror! it was the landlady. " Ah !" went the old woman, " Murder! thieves !" Another door opened, and another head appeared, a third, and Carrotty Jem. was there in curl- papers and a night- gown. She saw the case in a moment, but she joined her mother, and screameid. too, whereupon a rheumatic postcaptain, on the second floor, with an indistinct notion of fire, threw the contents of his water jug on our hapless hero and his pretty burthen. The tableau was complete, and further description is useless. Suffice it to say Jack lost Jemima, but married Emma in a month, by degrees got out of his difficulties, and has now attained the rank of Commander in the Royal Navy : we cannot, however, forbear a MORAL. If you must carry a girl up- stairs in the dark, and she has pat- tens, make her leave them in the hall. THERE was sound palpable argument in the reply of a country lad to an idler, who boasted of liis ancient family :—" So much the worse for you," said the peasant; " as we ploughmen say, ' The older the seed, the worse the crop.'" THE BRISTOL JUDGE AND JURY SOCIETY.— We understand that a Judge and Jury Society has been opened in the large Saloon of the Three Horse Shoes, Ellsbridge Passage, Rope Walk, and the meetings, which are held every Monday evening, have been well attended, and given unqualified satisfaction. The last performance of the Bristol Garrick Society, took place on Tuesday, the 22nd instant. The pieces were " The Wonder," and the " Gentleman in Black." Mr. Evered, Don Felix, and Evans, Col. Briton, were well received— Miss Graham being of course the Violante. THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ANYBODY, SOMEBODY, AND NOBODY.—" Mamma," said Miss Juliana Selina Carolina Lan- guish, " who are these Middletons— anybody ?" " Why, my dear, young Middleton joined the hunt last week, and was introduced at the last ball, and keeps a tiger; and you know they must be somebody." " Yes, mamma, but I can't help thinking that they are only retired, very good sort of people, no doubt; but there is something about them that makes me think that they are nobody, after all." " My dear, they must be somebody." " No. mamma; they want to pass for somebody, but as every body knons, there is always a something which tells you directly whether anybody is anybody ; and it is not a bit of use for anybody who is nobody to pretend to be somebody.'' At St. Austell, Cornwall, the other day, a mendicant impostor, in the character of a negro, was detected by . the exhibition of part of a white leg through a r « nt in his trowsers. 91 T H E TOWN. THE MYSTERIES OF LOYE '> Adventures of lanou Lescaut. I remained, after reading this, in a state which it would be difficult to describe; for even now I know not the natute of the feelings which then agitated me. It was one of those unique situations of which others can never have experienced any- thing even approaching to similarity. It is impossible to ex- plain it, because other persons can have no idea of its nature; and one can hardly even analyze it to oneself.! ( Memory furnishes nothing that will connect it with the past, and, therefore, ordinary language is inadequate to describe it. Whatever was its nature, howevjr, it is certain that grief, hate, jealousy and shame entered into its composition. For- tunate would it have proved for me if Love also had not been a component part! That she loves me, I exclaimed, I can believe; but could she, without being a monster, hate me? What right can man ever have to woman's affections which I had not to Manon's? What is left to me, after all the sacrifices I have made for her sake? Yet she abandons me, and the ungrateful creature thinks to screen herself from my reproaches by professions of love! She pretends to dread starvation! God of Love, what grossness of sentiment! What an answer to the refinement of my adoration! I had no dread of that kind; I, who have almost sought starvation for her sake, by renouncing fortune and the comforts of my father's house! I, who denied myself actual necessaries, in order to gratify her little whims and caprices! She adores me, she says. If you adored me, un- grateful creature, I well know what course you would have taken; you would never have quitted me, at least without saying adieu. It is only I who can tell the pangs and torments ot being separated from all one loves. I must have taken leave of my senses, to have voluntarily brought all this misery upon myself. My lamentations were interrupted by a visit I little expected; it was from Lescaut. Assassin! cried I, putting my hand upon my sword, where is Manon? what have you done with her? My agitation startled him. He replied, that if this was the reception he was to meet, when he came to offer me the most essential service it was in his power to render me, he should take his leave, and never again cross my threshold. I ran to the door of- the apartment, which I shut. Do not imagine, I said, turning towards him, that you can once more make a dupe of me with your lies and inventions. Either defend your life, or tell me where I can find Manon. How impatient you are! replied he; that was in reality the object of my visit. I came to announce a piece of good fortune which you little expected, and for which you will probably feel somewhat grateful. My curiosity was at once excited. He informed me that Manon, totally unable to endure the dread of want, and, above all, the certainty of being at once obliged to dispense with her equipage, had begged of him to make her acquainted with M. G. M„ who had a character for liberality. He carefully avoided telling me that this was the result of his owu advice, and that he had prepared the way before be introduced his sister. I took her there this morning, said he, and the fellow was so enchanted with her looks, that he at once invited her to accompany him to his country seat, where he is going to pass some days. As I plainly perceived, said Lescaut, the advantage it may be to you, I took care to let him know that she had lately experienced very consider able losses; and I so piqued his generosity that he began by giving her four hundred crowns. I told him that was well enough for a commencement, but that my sister would have, for the future, many demands for money; that she had the charge of a young brother, who had been thrown upon her hands since the death of our parents; and that, if he wished to prove himself worthy of her affections, he would not allow her to suffer uneasiness upon account of this child, whom she regarded as part of herself. This speech produced its effect; he at once promised to take a house for you and Manon, for you must know that you are the poor little orphan, He un- dertook to set you up in furniture, and to give you four hundred livres a month, which, if I calculate rightly, will amount to four thousand eight hundred per annum. He left orders with his steward to look out for a house, and to have it in readiness by the time he returned. You will soon, there- fore, again see Manon, who begged of me to give you a thou- sand tender messages, and to assure you that she loves you more dearly than ever. CHAPTER V. Infected with that leprosy of lust, Which taints the hoariest years of vicious men; Making them ransack to the very last The dregs of pleasure for their vanish'd joys.— BYRON. ON sitting down to reflect upon this strange turn of Fate, I found myself so perplexed, and consequently so incapable of arriving at any rational conclusion, that I allowed Lescaut to put repeated questions to me without in the slightest degree attending to their purport. It was then that Honour and Virtue made me feel the most poignant remorse, and that I recalled with bitterness Amiens, my father's house, St. Sul- pice, and every spot where I had ever lived in happy innocence. By what a terrific interval was I now separated from that blessed state! I beheld it no longer but as a dim shadow in the distance, still attracting my regrets and desires, but with- out the power of rousing me to exertion. By what fatality, said I, have I become thus degraded? Love is not a guilty passion! why then has it beenjto me the source of profligacy and distress? Who prevented me from leading a virtuous and tranquil life with Manon? Why did I not marry her be- fore 1 obtained any concession from lier love? Would not my father, who had the tenderest regard for me, have given his consent, if I had taken the fair and candid course of soliciting him? Yes, my father would himself have cherished her as one far too good [ to be his son's wife! 1 should have been happy in the love of Manon, in the affection of my father, in the esteem of the world, with a moderate portion of the good things of life, and above all with the consciousness of virtue. Disastrous change! Into what an infamous character is it here proposed that I should sink? To share But can I hesitate, if Manon herself suggests it, and. if I am to lose her except up in such conditions? Lescaut, said I, putting my hands to my eyes as if to shut out such a horrifying vision if your intention was to render me a service, 1 give you thanks You might perhaps have struck out a more reputable course, but it is so settled, is it not? Let U3 then only think of profit- ing by your labour, and fulfilling your engagements. Lescaut, wh > had been considerably embarrassed, not only by my fury, but by the long silence which foil iwed it, was too hap' / to see me now take a course so different from what he h. P . iticipated. He had not a particle of courage, of which •' ury.- ed I have, in the sequel of my story, abundant proof. Yes, '• j ft, he quickly answered, it is good eerrice I have rendered • ou, and you will find that we shall derive infinitely more ad- vantage from it than you now expect. We consulted then as to the best mode of preventing the suspicions which G M might entertain of our relationship, when he found me older and of riper manhood than he probably imagined. The only plan we could hit upon was to assume in his presence an innocent and provincial air, and to persuade him that it was my intention to enter the Church, and that with that view I was obliged to go every day to the College. We also deter- mined that I should appear as awkward as I possibly could the first time I was admitted to the honour of an introduction. He returned to town three or four days after, and at once conducted Manon to the house which his steward had in the meantime prepared. She immediately apprised Lescaut of her return, and he having informed me, we went together to her new abode. The old lover had already gone out. In spite of the submission with which I had resigned myself to her wishes, I could not, at our meeting, repress the com- punctious visitings of my conscience. I appeared before her grieved and dejected. The joy I felt at seeing her once more could not altogether dispel my sorrow for her infidelity: she, on tlie contrary, appeared transported with the pleasure of seeing me. She accused me of coldness. I could not help muttering the words perfidious and unfaithful, though they were profusely mixed with sighs. At first she laughed at me for my simplicity; but when she found that I continued to look at her with an unchanging ex- pression ' of melancholy, and. that I could not bring myself to enter with alacrity into a scene so repugnant to all my feelings, she went alone into her boudoir. I very soon followed her, and then I found her in a flood of tears. I asked the cause of her • row. You can easily understand it, said she; how can you wish me to live, if my presence can no longer have any other effect, than to give you an air of sadness and chagrin? Not one kiss have yon given me during the long hour you have been in the house, while you have received my caresses with the dignified indifference of a Grand Turk, receiving the forced homage of the Sultanas of his harem. Hearken to me, Manon, said I, embracing her; I cannot con- ceal from you that my heart is bitterly afflicted. I do not now allude to the uneasiness your sudden flight caused me, nor to the unkindness of quitting me without a word of consolation, after having passed the night away from me. The pleasure of seeing you again would more than compensate for all; but do you imagine that I can reflect without sighs and tears upon the degrading and unhappy life which you now wish me to lead in this house. Say nothing { of my birth, or of my feelings of ( To be continued.) A COLUilL1 £ GE EYli£ TItoi) Y. TOWN TALK. It is rumoured that Her Majesty purposes honouring Drury Lane with her presence, to allow of the Royal Children witnessing the performance— at least this cannot tidce place till after the mourning for the Queen Dowager is out! Bruton, the celebrated comic- song writer and singer, so many years at the Cyder Cellars, has left for Evans's ( Green's) Piazza Hotel. A Porter at one of the Poor Law Unions has been fined 10s. for neglecting to get up in the night to let in a pauper. The latest caper of robbery and hocussing is giving a lozenge, composed of opium, to railway passengers, under pretence of keeping out the cold. No wonder some Butchers are enabled to sell legs of mutton at five- pence per pound, when putrified sheep are imported from Spain into Srnithfield Market, in droves of six hundred, consigned for sale at 3 <. 6d. per head. An extensive system of swindling carried on in Sheffield, in the shape of building lotteries, has induced a government prosecution Jenny Lind goes to Yankee land, next summer, at a salary of nearly 70,0002. for eighteen months, and all expences paid. Persons who wear Nicoll's paletot, enable a jew- sponge" maker to keep a carriage, and realize 3,0002. a year, by giving the makers three and sixpence each. The police have received instructions to prevent performances tending to lead to similar fatal results as the recent one in Wombwell's Menagerie. Trade is improving; there were 95 bankruptcies in December, 1848, and only 45 in December, 1849. Twenty- seven pauper children have lost their lives in an Irish Union, through the rottenness of the building. Her Majesty and Prince Albert have subscribed 1,5002. to the exhibition of Works of Industry of all Nations. Dancers don't ciing much together, their Provident Society having but 122. in hand, whilst the members owe 3551. " THE TRIUMPH OF VENUS." ( SEE FIRST FAOE.) OUR Artist, this week, has given to our readers another of those splendid emenations of his pencil, which some weeks since won golden opinions from all observers. We might in passing, hazard a remark upon a subject that has been recently mooted in the Provinces, namely, the propriety of exposing engravings of this description. With all due deference to the opinions of others, and every respect for " the powers that be," we would ask, bow could danger accrue to any moral mind from looking at an en- graving of the character affixed to this article— is there anything lewd in the idea, or coarse in the delineation ; is it sinful to look upon the bust of a beautiful female— and must the vile and bru- tal passions of our nature, of necessity, be excited by such exhi- bitions ; if so, away at once we say with Art Unions, shut up the National Gallery, aud destroy the works of Titian, and the best of our old masters. But it is fighting with straws, there is neither sense or argument in such charges, and we consequently boldly call the attention of our readers to the engraving whioh we have termed, the " Triumph of Venus;" as it is only for the pure, to whom all things are pure, we submit these observations; we rely upon their opinion, fearless of the remarks that the filthy sensu- alist, or the mock sentimentalist, may frame upon them. Veuus, we find, from the pages of classic lore, was of such transcendent beauty, as to excite the lustful desires of Jupiter, and her repulsing his improper advances, led to the scandal which attaches to her name— marrying hisdeformed son Vulcan, induced the various amours which stain her history ; but although her liason's with Adonis led to her abandonment of the society of the gods, her great power over the heart induced Juno to seek her assistance ; and our artist has depicted her return to Mount Olympus, as a " Triumph." accompanied by her son Cupid. The ancients mention two'Cupids— one is allegorical of love; the other, which is not her child, is typsical of lust aud debauchery. Of course, our Artist's design is intended for the first. The cestus, or girdle, worn by Venus, being the object of solici- tude with the queen of the gods, this bracelet bestowing even upon the most ordinary of beings, beauty, grace, and elegance, and restored love to the wearer ; a power which Juno was com- pelled to admit Venus is possessed of. A LUCKY FELLOW.— The king of Ashantee is allowed by law 3333 wives— a privilege of which every sable monarch of that kingdom is said to avail himself. " MA, do you know why horses don't wear hats?" " No, Johnny." " ' Cause it would give them a hoss- tile appearance." WHEN is a lady like to be a good cross bow shooter?— When she fjeeds on arrow root. A WISE LANDLORD — One night a judge, a military officer, and a priest, all applied for lodging at an inn where there was but one fpare bed, and the landlord was called upon to decide which had . the best claim of the three. " I have lain for fifteen years in the garrison at B.," said the offi- er. " I have sat as judge twenty years in R.," said the judge. " With your leave, gentlemen, I ha. ve stood twenty years in the ministry at N." " That settles the tjispute," said the landlord. " You, Mr. Captain, have lain fifteen years; you, Mr. Judge, have sat twenty years; but the aged pastor has stood five- and- twenty years, so he certainly has the best right to the bed." CLERICAL WIT.—" If we go to war, father," said a bright- eyed boy the other day to his clerical parent, " from what part of the Bible shall you get a text for a new sermon ?" The good minister, being taken by surprise at the question, thought a mo- ment, and then smoothing the locks of the child with a sort of paternal pride, answered, that he believed it would be from Lamentations. WHAT time is'that which spells^ backwards and forwards the samp?— Noon. ANECDOTE OF ERSKINE.— A client complained of a painter whq had broken his contract to paint a house; and the case Btated that A. would prove this, B. that, and C. the other fact, and concluded with this laconic question : " Will an action lie ?' To which Erskine answered in terms as laconic, " Yes, if all the witnesses will lie too." A good lady who had two children sick with the measles wrote to a friend for the best remedy: while the friend bad just received a npte from another lady inquiring the way to make pickles. In the confusion, the lady who had inquired about the pickles re- ceived the remedy for the measles, while the anxious mother of the sick children read the following:—" Scald them three or four times in hot vinegar, sprinkle them well with salt, and in a few days they will be oured." When it was told the Rev. Sydney Smith that it was intended to pave St. Paul's church- yard " with blocks, his answer was, that he thought there would bo no difficulty in the matter if the Dean and Chapter would put their heads together. COQUETRY.— Tacitus remarks of Poppea, the Queen of Nero, that she concealed a part of her face, to the end, that the imagi- nation having fuller play by irritating curiosity, they might think more highly of her beauty than if the whole of her face had been exposed. HARD TIMES CONJUGATED.— A country schoolmaster thus describes a money- lender:—" He serves you in the present tense — he lends you in the conditional mood— keeps you in the sub- junctive— and ruins you in the future." FUNNY FIGURING.— 1.— If 20 grains make a scruple, how many will make a doubt ? 2.— If 3 miles make a fur- long, how many will make a victorine ? 3.— If 7 days make one week, how many will make one strong ? 4.— If 5J yards make a Pole, how many will make a Turk ? 5.— If 3 miles make a league, how many will make a confederacy 1 A STRAPPING FELLOW.— A surgeon's dresser. A man, on being told by a generous farmer that he would give him a barrel of cider, asked the farmer if he would b'i > * it to his house. " Certainly," replied the farmer, " with pleasure." " Well," said the grateful man, " what will you pay me for the bar- rel when the cider is gone ?" " Do you know," said a cunning Yankee to a Jew, " that they hang Jews and jackasses together in Portland ?"—" Indeed, bro- ther l then it's well you and I are not there." Why are washerwomen the silliest of people ?— Because they put out their tubs to catch soft water when it rains hard. Sir William Burrell used frequently to boast of having been both at Oxford and Cambridge ; being one day at an agricultural meeting, he made some proposals which a farmer present objected te. " Sir," said the baronet, who could ill brook any opposition from an inferior, " I should be very sorry indeed, if I were not better informed on such subjects than you are, having been at the two Universities." " Ay, that may be," replied the farmer, " but I remember to have had a calf that sucked two cows, and the ob- servation that I made was, that he was the greater calf for that." A PLAIN COOK.— The Times is full of the advertisements of Plain Cooks. We suppose pretty Cooks have no occasion to advertise. An amateur naturalist offers a reward to the man who'will fur- nish him a live specimen of the " brick bat." GLOVES.— A dancing- girl in an Egyptian bazaar, who took a liking to my gloves, was extremely desirous of obtaining them as a present; but I told her the sun of Egypt was too warm to allow of my walking about with naked hands. Upon hers it had al- ready done its worst, for they were nearly black. She had never seen gloves before, and took mine at first to be the natural skin of my hand. When I drew one of them off for the purpose of taking some money out of my purse, she started back in extreme terror, imagining I had began the process of flaying myself before her. The market, people who stood round laughed heartily at her fright, though they were not a jot more familiar than she was with the use of the admired article of dress. GAMMON. Beauteous Emma, how I love thee, Language is too weak to tell; ( If the tale about her tin Be real- and not a sell.) When at church I first did see thee, In my pew I ravished sat, ( A tall flunkey followed with the Books— I lilcea the look of that.) Dearest, hear me : I adore thee, For thyself, and not thy gold; { If I aet thee, as I think 1 Shall, my goods need not be sold.) What ? " you're poor "— vou're " the companion,' Not the child of Mr » .' Dodd; ( Then all's up— that's my ruin: And now I'm certain to go to quod.) PEOPLE WHO ARE NEVER PITIED TIIE ADELPHI COMPANY AT TIIK HAYMARKXT.— At one of the ' wings' of the Adelphi Theatre, the other evening, Madame Celeste addressed a sentimeut to her company, in reference to their approaching appearance at the Haymarket, corresponding, word tor word, with the sentiment which a spider, could it speak, would address to a fly on the wing — viz: " I hope you will make my Web- stir." WK have no sympathy for a railway speculator who is reduced to his last shilling. None for a stout man running after his hat. None for an alderman who is laid up with the gout. None for a dandy splashed by a mud cart. None for a man who loses his umbrella. None for a cockney who is riding a spirited horse on a Sunday in the park. None for the Margate lodging- house keepers when they have had a bad season. None for the French when they get a good licking in Algiers. None for a husband who lets his wife wear the unwhisperables ; and none for the man who leaves solid English fare to eat French cookery till he is sick. 4 ' AIL THB BACK NUMBERS OF THE TO W N ARE NOW RE- PRINTING. SUPPORTING THE DRAMA. THE RUSSIAN LOAN. lst Juvenile— I say, Sam, what ye'r got in that basin? and vere are you going? 2d Juvenile— Got!— why some biled pig's liver and tatus, and | I'm going to hear Hioc! he's the haetur. lst Juvenile— Oh! you flat, why don't you go to Drurv- lane,! support the legitimate. Mother says we ought all to go. 2d Juvenile— Legitimate ! what's that ? lst Juvenile— Being born in wedlock, you flat, and that s the | 0 on. , and USEFUL HINTS. AT the Staffordshire Sessions it was some time since decided that a widow is not a single woman, and a thief got off in con- sequence of such a misdescription of the owner of the stolen goods. A WRITER in the Naval and Military Gazette contends that the moustache, acting as a respirator, is a preservative from con- sumption. Hence, hairy- lipped regiments are more free from disease of the lungs than any other. ART OP SWIMMING.— Men are drowned by raising their arm8 above water, the unbuoyed weight of which depresses the head. Other animals have neither notion nor ability to act in a similar manner, and therefore swim naturally. When a man falls int0 deep water, he will rise to the surface, and will continue there, if he does not elevate his hands. If he moved his hands under the water in any way he pleases, his head will rise so high as to allow him freely to breathe; and if he will use his legs as if in the act of walking ( or rather walking up stairs), his shoulders will rise above the water, so that he may use less exertion with his hands, or apply them to other purposes. THE public is a body very much like that which assembles round a table, and a wise host will cater for all. THE metropolis is inundated with spurious cocoa, which is sold as the genuine preparation, though it is composed of sago flour, potato flour, and molasses, with hardly a third part of cocoa This mixture is coloured with Venetian red and brown ochre. THEKE is but one thing on earth a woman never will, nor can forgive. If she love a man, he may ill- use, may trample on, may dim the eyes with tears, may fill the heart with sighs, so full, that uttering them may even burst it; he may betray, abandon, may sink her to the lowest depths of degradation, make her heart, once pure, the home of shame, still this, and even more, can she for- give. But if you wound her pride, not all the oaths, the prayers, the prostrations, not even all the power her own love lends to strengthen him and weaken her, can move her to forgive! A VAST deal of danger would be avoided if druggists would sell all liquid poisons and embrocations in particular coloured bottles, and all dangerous powders in sealed coloured envelopes. NEVER change gold at a night- house ; or enter^ a cab after 12 o'clock without privately taking ( the number ; never, by any chance, attempt to argue with a cabman; pay his demand, even if he asks two shillings and sixpence a mile, as you have your remedy. SPOUTING THE CANDLES. PAWNBROKER.— Five Millions on your Candles— it is too much! BORROWER.— But their real RUSSIAN Fat!— I must have the money Railway— if that's not sufficient Mr. Bull, I can let you have some as I want it of my leather. for the notices to ffiotmspoirteitte. WHAT A MAN ABOUT TOWN MAY DO, AND WHAT A MAN MAY NOT DO. STORY OF A STOLEN NOTE. The purchaso of stolen notes is as common with a London fence as tbe buying of silver or gold. Wheu a note is properly " fenced," it seldtom or never comes to light with the slightest clue to the robbery attached to it. The avarice of the thief, or the mean- ness of the fence, frequently give rise to note robberies. For if the thief does not receive what he considers sufficient, he often puts them into circulation himself. Some years since, a tremen- dous robbery took place at the Paisley and Glasgow Bank, Jemmy M'Caul, a most daring and clever housebreaker, being the prin- cipal housebreaker. Sayers and Vikers, two of the most active members of the Old Bow- street Police, were employed to trace the perpetrators, but it was no go, and at length a negotiation was entered into between some of the suspected parties, and it was settled that no prosecution should take place if the property — at least all belonging to the Bank— was given up. The old adage, however, of " Honour amongst Thieves," was not, on this occasion, kept to, for although a good sum was paid by the Bank proprietors, some of the notes were kept back, and a few years affer were again put into circulation, and the Bank people think- ing they had been both robbed and cheated, set Sayers again to work, who finally succeeded in nabbing Master M'cCaul, who was tried, found guilty, and sentenced to be hung, but escaped the executioner's assstance, by dying two days after his trial. The strangest part of the story remains to be told. Sayers afterwards lived with Jemmy M'c Caul's fancy woman, and kept her in Lisle- street, Leicester square. She was thrown out of a gig and killed. Jemmy M'cCaul's lady could not have had the most sen- sitive feelings to cohabit with the man who had been instrumen- tal in causing her lover to perish in a prison. However, Sayers died suddenly, at Chelsea, worth about 30,000i.— and a few moments prior to breathing his last, he pointed with violent gesticulation at a cupboard and the fire, as if he wished something destroyed actions which were not understood. Strange to say, shortly after his death, more of the notes got into circulation, and some to a a very large amount. The most searching enquiries were now made, and the property was traced to a relative of Sayers, who had found them in the cupboard Sayers had pointed to, and in- nocently put them into circulation. There is no doubt Sayers had them from Jemmy's paramour, who had kept them by her, thinking they might some day be useful. It is not likely he re- ceived them from the thieves as hush- money, or to return them, for if he had put them into circulation, he would have been ruined directly, and the thieves, when convicted, would have told of him. In consequence of the extraordinary increase in the circulation of this Journal, it is absolutely necessary to go to press with the Number on WEDNESDAY, consequently letters to be answered in the ensuing Number must be sent by Tuesday's post. All communications for insertion, must be directed to Mr. H. G. BROOKS, care of the publisher, ( several communications having been sent to No. 10, Craven Buildings, from which place Mr. B. has removed.) All Post Office Orders, or other business matters, connected with THE TOWN, to Mr. W. WINN, 34, Holy- well- street, Strand. T. F. ( Oxford)— The work you allude to is very, very scarce. You should write to Hicks about the other matters and he will send you a catalogue, SISSOGAH ( Chiselhurst).— It is a subject very little touched upon. The fate of the red inhabitants of America, the real proprietors of its soil, is, without any exception, the most sinful story recorded in the history of the human race ; and when one reflects upon the anguish they have suffered from our hands, and the cruelties and injustice they have endured, the mind, accustomed to its own vices, is lost in utter astonishment at finding that in the red man's heart, their exists no sentiment of animosity against us, no feeling of revenge; on the contrary, that our appearance at the hum- ble portal ot his wigwam is to this hour a subject of unusual joy. If the white man be lost in the forest, his cry of distress will call the most eager hunter from his game; and among the tribe there is not only pleasure but pride in contending with each other, who shall be the first to render liim assistance and food. J. G. L. ( St. Mary's Terrace, Paddington)— Where can WE see you, as we have given your letter to our solicitor. NINON D'ENELOS.— Sorry to refuse, but we have so much poetry. LIONEL ( Ipswich).— The mother has no claim, The child should have been affiliated within twelvemonths of its birth. LORENZO ( Neweastle on Tyne).— My dear boy, it's' already been in a back number of the TOWN. DYSPEPTIC.— No two [ persons agree as fto what is best for the constitution. Common English fare is perhaps as good as any in the world. We perceive, from the French papers, that the English workmen on their railways do much more work than the French, and adhere to their national diet; and those Frenchmen who have adopted the English diet find their capacity for labour wonderfully increased. If beer agrees with you take it, we how- ever prefer water with dinner. A YOUNG SUBSCRIBER ( Lombard- st.)— Hicks will attend to it. C. C. C. ( Norwich)— The Theatre and the drama are too frequently con- founded in the popular mind. But the drama is a much larger idea than the theatre, the theatre bearing a relationship only with the acting part of the drama. The drama may be said to be the origin of literature. The most ancient compositions in existence are dramatic. The Book of Job is a drama, in which Job, his wife, aud his three friends, Satan, and the Deity, are the dramatis persona. AN AMERICAN.— Our observations were not intended to be offensive to the " new country," for we believe that Queen Victoria is much admired, and probably excites more interest in the United States than iu any other coun- try in the world except that in which she rules ; portraits of her Majesty, statuettes of the Prince of Wales, and ornaments bearing her effigy, are everywhere to be seen. THE ELFIN QUEEN ( Manchester).— Your wishes, with respect to the " notes," we hope, in a few days, to be able to comply with. KNOCKEMDOWN ( Norwich).— Write to Mr. S. May, at Mrs. Brice's, 8, Brownlow- st., Drury Lane, London, and you will get better used in the articles you inquire about than any one WE know of. ALFRED POTTER ( Derby).— We know the person lived at Bristol. Write to him yourself, for we are tired hearing complaints upon the subject. Yours is the FIFTY SEVENTH letter. C. H. M. ( Sloane- st.)— Walking is the best possible exercise; habituate yourself to walking very far. We value ourselves on having subdued the horse to our use, but it is questionable if anything has created so mueh degeneracy of the human frame. I. V. I. S.— We are apt to connect the voice of conscience with tho stillness of midnight, but we wrong that innocent hour. It is that terrible next morning, when reason is wide awake, upon which remorse fastens its fangs. CHRISTOPHUS.— We never read the novel, but if the anthor does say so, it's a ridiculous mistake, for gas was not known in London in 1805. Pall Mall was the first, and for several years the only place lighted with it. A BRUMMAGEM BUTTON.— Yours is a good joke, and shall not be lost sight of. ONE WHO HAD THE CHOLERA.— Says, speaking of Clement's- lane, Strand- Mark that lane, confined and sickly, See within its narrow bound, Want and squalor crowding thickly, Upas like shed poisnn round. Say, should such a horror stand In a free and christian land I Raze it! raze it! Wherefore stays it. Raze it even with the ground. ROBERTS, THE RODNEY'S HEAD.— We have received a communication relative to this establishment, but the writer has mistaken our publication, a worthier or better fellow than Roberts does not exist, he is a credit to the licensed victualler's body. M. ( Eccles)— The girl you met in Salford must have been a fool, at the same time we don't admire YOUR taste. F. CLARK ( Twickenham)— The work was out of print at the lime it was ordered. THE MonEST BARD'S lines shall appear, but we are overstocked with poetry. Where will a line reach you 1 BHISTOLONIAN.— Will accept our thanks for his kind attention. S. B. ( Hatmaker, Sussex)— The paper was not sent direct from the office, hence the mistake. C. M. K. ( Bristol)— You may buy it of Hicks, and it is quite harmless. " A New way of having a Flat,'- will be finished next week. A man about town may accept an invitation, but he must not accept a bill. A man about town may carry a pound of silver, but he must not carry a pound of candles. A man about town may be seen to swallow ginger pop, but he must not be seon in a pop shop. A man about town may act shabbily, but he must not on any account dress shabbily . A man about town may thrash an omnibus] cad, but^ lie must not thrash a policeman. A man about town may wrench off the nose, and knock down a woman, but he must not wrench off the knocker of a gentleman. A man about town may sit in a stall at the opera, but he must not stand at a stall in the Haymarket. A man about town may drive a dog- cart, but he must not drive a donkey. A man about town may go to " the Insolvent Debtor's Court, but he must avoid the Old Bailey. THE BILL STICKER. WHAT IS AN OVERSEER.— A person with whom it would be all over, if the workhouse required the wisdom of a seer. An op- pressor— not by office of his virtue, but by virtue of his office— a political economist and distributor of bread and stones. JHWhy should he trouble himself to stick bills to be pulled down again for the sole advantage of another?'| No; in future he should do no such thing, but dispose of them at once for him- self. The flour he was allowed for making into thin paste he soon discovered with less trouble might be converted into un- commonly nice Norfolk dumplings. Butter and cheese were always at his command, for being in the confidence of the cheese- mongers in the neighbourhood, he merely had to present his bills, when they were immediately honoured and discounted in the shape of a pound or two of that which he most required. A SUFFOLK farmer, who had a goose stolen from him, com- plained to the curate, and begged of his reverence to assist him in getting back his goose. Accordingly, when the curate ascended the pulpit on the following Sunday, he desired all his congrega- tion to sit down, and when they had obeyed, he said, " Why sit ye not down ?" They replied, " We are already seated." " Nay,'' rejoined the curate," he who stole the goose sitteth not." " Yes) that I do 1" exclaimed the guilty party. " Sayest thou that V, replied the curate; " I charge thee, on pain of excommunication to bring the goose back again." The sequel need not be related PRIVATE HINTS ON ALL SECRET DISEASES, Generative Weakness, aud Nervous Debility, with plain directions for* cure, price 6d., post free, 8d. By H. WALTON, M. D., M. R. C. S., & c„ who may be confidentially consulted ( without a fee) from 8 a. m. to 10 p. m. daily, at his residence, No. 55, Great Queen Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields. Letters promptly attended to, and inviolable secrecy observed. N. B. Recent cases of Disease perfectly cured within a week, Seminal Weakness in a month. Medicine suitable to the symptoms sent to all parts ( sub rosaV ( Other communications next week.) A very loquacious female witness, whom the opposing counsel could not silence, so far kept him at bay, that by way of brow beating her, he exclaimed, " Why, woman, there's enough brass in your face to make a kettle:" " and sauce enough in yours to fill it," was the quick reply, THE CONFESSIONS OF A LADY'S MAID, a picture of fashionable passion and seduction. Price 2s. fid. post free' JUST ItErRlNTED— SECRETS FOR YOUNG MEN, SINGLE MEN, AND MARRIED MEN; giving a description, by which all diseases may be cured without medical aid, " This is a useful little work, and should be read by every Englishman." " Old Bell's Weekly Messenger." THE SWELL'S NIGHT GUIDE through London, Edited by the Lord Chief Baron, 3s. 6d. post free. MYSTERIES OF VENUS— Lessons of Love: or, the Adventures of Kitty Pry— five plates. 4s. « d., post free. WOMAN of PLEASURE, coloured plates, 5s. 8d., post free. BEAUTY OF WOMAN, Ss. 6d.; poBt free. THE EXQUISITE, in Three Volumes, One Guinea each, or Three Volumes, Three Guineas, ( Carriage free). GENESOLOGY OF WOMEN, Sixty- three coloured Engravings, post free, 5s. MEMOIRS OF MISSF H , coloured plates, post free, 5s. 6d. PHYSIOLOGY OF MAN, coloured Plates, poBt free, 3s. THE SILENT FRIEND, Twenty- six coloured Plates, post free, 3s. ARISTOTLE'S CELEBRATED MASTER- PIECE, 3s. 6d.. HARRIETT WILSON, 5s. 6d. post free. AMOURS OF LORD BYRON, 4s. 6d. post free. THE SECRETS OF NATURE Revealed, 2s. 6d. post free. J ' COAL- HOLE SONGSTERS, Is. each, post free. LESSONS FOR LOVERS, only 3s., post free; originally published at 10s. 6d. BACHELOR'S ALBUM, ten splendid coloured plates, post free, 2s. Od. TIT BITS FOR GENTLEMEN, six racy plates, a la Fransais, post REFORE AND AFTER, two beautiful plates, from Hogarth, 6d., post free. THE MEDICAL ADVISER, by Dr. De Roos, coloured plates, price 2s. 8d post free.—" The best work on the subject"— Public Press. Stamps taken as Cash. Catalogues sent per post, on receipt of two stamps. T. Hicks, 84, Holvwell- street, Strand. T. II. will not be responsible for any Works directed to be sent to Post Office Printed and published by W. WINN, 34, Holvwell- street, Strand, where all communications are tobeaidressed. Sold at all Booksellers, Railway Station^ and Steam Boat Piers. [ ENTERED AT STATIONERS HALL.
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