t YOUR TAIL IS'. ALWAYS 77VZT. M/ 3 r SIR fUJsM liffei- » iJ " m BKWvV;', a Bra O'i 1 / The Second Quarterly Part will be issued at the publication of No. 26. Part I. now \ P, mr TUTryin Wri, Trr » f !)„,„„ n..„ T> i\ O Jo. J ^ ready. Each Part to contain 18 Nos. in a Wrapper, for Is. Post free, Is. 6. J 1UBLISHED WEEKLY. [ irRICE UNE fENNY A SCENE AT A " BAL MASQUE." TALES OF LONDON LIFE, MRS. LORIMER SPINKS OK, THE MARRIED LADY THAT WAS A LITTLE TOO GAY. ( Continued.) THE COLLEGIATE CHURCH, MANCHESTER— MRS. SFINKS'S VISIT TO HER GRANDFATHER'S TOMB— THE SPY. The conduct of Mrs. Spinks as described in our last chapter, had the effect of completely estranging her from her brother, for notwithstanding the sudden death of Mr. Babington, and the consternation which that circumstance threw the party into, she abruptly left the house, and refused to see her brother or any person connected with the Babiri^ ton family. The dying decla- ration of Jonathan had Bunk deeply in her bosom, and the more she pondered upon it the more she became inclined to believe in its truth; in the bitterness of her rage and disappointment, she would have used any weapon that would have afforded her the means of satiating her vengeance, and it was not long ere an in- strument presented itself. It was on the evening of the fourth day after the interment of Babington that she was seated alone in her apartment, ponder- ing upon the change which had taken place in her circumstances, when she was aroused from her reverie by the sound of a cab stopping at her door, and almost immediately after being informed that the driver had a letter which he was charged to give to no one but Mrs. Spinks. Margaret hastened to the street- door, and found a man who, upon her informing him she was Mrs. Spinks, delivered to her a carefully scaled note, the contents of which she eagerly read. The letter was dated from the hotel in Leicester- square, the same house at which Babington, under the name of the Marquis, had been in the habit of staying, and where Mrs. Spinks had met with her brother. The note contained but a few words, merely stating that an old friend of the Rodwell family, who knew how she had been wronged by her relatives, was anxious to speak with her for a few moments alone, being in possession of information which would prove her exclusive right to the Rodwell estate. " From whom did you bring this note ?" inquired Mrs. Spinks, regarding the cabman earnestly. All attempt, however, to ob- tain a view of his features was frustrated by his continually shift- ing about, in addition to which two- thirds of his countenance was concealed by an enormous pair of black whiskers and several neckerchiefs. " A gentleman," was the short answer. " Do you know his name ?" " I did not see him." " How, then, do you know it was a gentleman." " I was called from the stand, and directed to deliver that letter to you by one of the waiters for a gentleman— and I was told I should have to take a lady with me— if you are the person, we had better lose no time, for the writer of that letter leaves London to- night by the eight o'clock train." " Ah," exclaimcd Mrs. Spinks, " do you know what part of the country he is going to ?" " Manchester, I believe," replied the man, " but," he added, checking himself, " I don't know for certain ; I thought I caught the word Manchester— but I dare say you'll know all about it when you see the gentleman; he seems very anxious to see you." Mrs. Spinks gazed at the man with astonishment; there was something in his dress, language, and general manners, different from a cabman, and, as she regarded him closely, an idea crossed her mind that he knew her. " We have met before," she muttered, in a low tone, " and you know who is the writer of this letter and probably its contents." " I have delivered my message," said the man suddenly, " what is your answer, ma'am?" " You have not answered my question.'' " I lmve not come here to answer questions— but I did not hear it." " Where is it we have met ?" Tho man paused for a few moments, and then, as if a thought had suddenly crossed him, smilingly observed— " And do you really wish to know where we have met ?" " I do." " At Mrs. Shadrach's, the brothel in—" " Hush— for Heaven's sake, speak lower," exclaimed Mrs. Spinks. " I have no desire to speak at all," said the man, " but tell me what answer I am to take back, for I am losing time." " I am convinced you know the name of the person from whom you brought this letter," she replied, " and unless you tell it me, I have no answer to send." " That, then, it your answer," observed the man, turning upon his heel as if to depart; " good evening, madam." " Nay, stop a minute," exclaimed Mrs. Spinks, fearful to let the man go, and yet undecided as to accompanying him ; " if I go with you, how long shall we be ?" " You know the distance, ma'am," said the man, " its not the first- time you have been in Leicester- square." A blush of indignation rose upon the cheek of Mrs. Spinks, for there was an insolence in the tone that these words were deli- vered, which conld not be mistaken; her curiosity, however, caused her to dissemble, and without, therefore, appearing to notice the rudeness of the remark, she continued— " But if I accompany you, what gHarantee have I that there is not some danger in this visit." " Nothing very dreadful can occur at the hotel," answered the cabman in the same cool tone ; " it is a respectable house, and I have no doubt you have been in worse." " You are insolent." " I am in a hurry— and this is but wasting time." The abrupt answers of the man determined our heroine ; she felt at least she was safe at the hotel, and she was anxious to know THE TOWN. S • who it was who appeared to be so mysteriously interesting them- selves in her welfare. " Stay but a few seconds, whilst I change my dress," she ex- claimed, " and X will accompany you." In a very short space of time, Mrs. Spinks had attired herself, and having left a message with her daughter, that if Spinks came home before she returned, that she was gone out upon business, and would return in an hour, she entered the cab, which pro- ceeded at a rapid pace to the hotel in Leicester- square. " Take the cab round to the stables," said the driver, jumping from the box, and addressing the waiter, " No," he added, as if recollecting himself, " let it wait here." " Very well, sir," answered the waiter. There was a change in the tone of the cabman's voice which immediately struck Mrs. Spinks, and, with surprise, she perceived him enter the hotel, and precede her up stairs. Feigning some artifice, she hesitated fol- lowing, but her companion exclaimed in a bland manner, and in a style very different to what he had hitherto adopted, " This way, Mrs. Spinks—- this way ; we are going to the room where you met your brother, a few weeks sip. ee ;" and before she had time to reflect or answer, he led her into the empty apart- ment. closed the door, and baMed Ker a chair. " " What is the meaning of this?" she exclaimed; " where is the person whom I was to meet?" " And can it be possible," answered her strange companion, " that you really, madam, do not know me? my disguise must, indeed, be an excellent one if it could deceive eyes so sharp as those possessed by Mrs. Spinks." As he utterert r; - vnrds, he removed the heavy top coat, and multitudinous bun. I, hiefs, which, together with the large false whiskers, disguised his face, revealing to her the features of one whom the reader doubtless, ere this, has suspected it to be, viz., Robert Varden. Mrs. Spinks's first impulse was to rush to the door, but in this she was frustrated by Varden, who placed him- self before her. " Pardon me, Mrs. Spinks," he said, " I know you may blame me for having used some artifice in bringing you here, but it was with a view to serve you ; and, at least, you must not depart unt$ you have heard the cause." " Mr. Varden," she replied, softened by his manner, " J know not why you should have interested yourself thus in my behalf; at least, mcthinks, if you had anything important to communicate, you might have done so at my house." " No," answered Varden; " that would have neutralised every- thing ; if I am to serve you, much caution must be used; you are now at the mercy of the daughter of the man who, in his life- time, was your bitterest enemy ; and who, dying, inflicted upon you a sting, which, but for my aid, will for ever deprive you of any claim to the Rodwell estate." " Ah 1" exclaimed Mrs. Spinks, her eye flashing with excitement, " you know, then ?" " I know everything," interrupted Varden; " for weeks have I been toiling, unknown to you, for your advantage; and, but for the loss of one document, would have seen you ere this." Varden then proceeded to detail to Mrs. Spinks all the par- ticulars relative to the letter which he had taken from Hannah, and which was subsequently stolen from him by the boy, Captain Flash. The feelings of Mrs. Spinks may be better imagined than des- cribed, when she heard him r elate the account of the death of Mrs. Saunders, and state that he knew of the existence of the marriage certificate, proving her title to the property. " What, then, do you propose doing 7" inquired Mrs. Spinks. " Depart for Manchester, immediately." " For Manchester ?" " Yes; and you must accompany me." " When ?" " To- night." " Impossible." " It must be so. The jury ha, ve found Baker, and a man they call Ruckman, guilty of the tobbery at Rodwell, and sentenced them to ten years' transportation." " And Shadrach, what of him ?" " He is proved to have received the property, and leaves this country for fifteen years. The Jews were frantic; and Mrs. Shad- rach was carried from Hicks's Hall insensible." " This is news to me— are you certain of its truth ?" " I attended at the Clerkenwell SessiOns- house, and heard the trial." " Was my brother there ?" " He was, and that old villain, Darcie, and I narrowly escaped being seen by him. Your brother was not, however, called upon to give evidence. Indeed, he knew nothing of tbe robbery.'' " I have heard there was another concerned in this affair, the principal." " You mean young Saunders ?" " I do." " He has hitherto escaped the vigilance of tbe police, although a hundred and fifty pounds reward is offered for his apprehension. Dobson and his son, however, proved the case." " Are they in London ?" " Yes ; and it is from that circumstance I hope for success. There is no one now at the Hall who knows me; this is, there- fore, a golden opportunity, which must not be lost sight of. We must at once proceed there, and secure the papers, which are con- cealed in a panel, the secret of which now is known to none liv- ing except myself. You must accompany me, for should any difficulty present itself in obtaining admission, you, as one of the rightful heirs to the property, can demand it, and authorise any steps I may think necessary to take as your agent." No proposition could, by any possibility, be advanced more likely to meet the views of Mrs. Spinks; and, after some further conversation, in which Varden explained he had been staying se- veral days at the hotel, as thinking it the place, of all others, the most unlikely for him to be looked for, it was arranged that they should depart immediately for Manchester. " I must go home first," said Mrs. Spinks, " both for money and change of apparel; my husband will also be alarmed at my absence, and the noise which fie may make to discover me may draw the attention of my brother to our proceediugs, which, at present, I presume, you wish kept secret." Varden, however, overcame all her scruples ; be had sufficient money, and a letter, he said, would be despatched to Spinks, en- joining him to silence; and he so far pleaded the necessity of a prompt departure, that Mrs. Spinks finally consented to accom- pany him, and six o'clock the next morning saw them entering the streets of Manchester. " It is too early yet, by some hours," said Varden, " for us to visit tbe Hall— it would excite suspicion— we will go to Oldham- street; there is an excellent temperance- hotel there, where we can get good accommodation." " I would prefer walking, for I am cramped with sitting," was her reply ; " this place awakens old recollections; yonder is the old Collegiate church— if you have no objection we will enter; my grandfather is interred there, and I should like to see his tomb." Varden did not dissent from this proposition, though it was anything but agreeable to his feelings, and they proceeded towards the church. Mrs. Spinks, however, paused for a few moments to look upon the dark waters of the Irwell; as she did so she suddenly started; Varden observed the action, but imputed it to chilliness. " You are cold," he observed ; " here is the Trafford Arms, let ns have some brandy— it will do you good." No," she observed ; " it is nothing ; we w ill go into the churchyard. Let us walk fast, for I have a very particular motive." As she spoke, they passed through Hanging- ditch, and entered the gates of the church- yard— when she again started; aud Var- den, turning round, perceived, at the same moment, a figure gliding behind the tombstones. " It is strange," observed Mrs. Spinks, pointing in the direction of the figure, " but that person, whoever he is, has followed us from the railway- station; and just now, whilst standing on the bridge, he brushed against me, and looked me earnestly in the face." ' The Devil he did," exclaimed Varden ; " why did you not mention this before— where is he now— and how is he dressed ?" " It is a boy, like a gentleman's page— yonder he goes, out at the gate." Varden needed not another word, but darted off towards the figure, who was evidently anxious to avoid observation. The boy, however, was too quick for him, for ere he could obtain the slightest glance of his face, he had rushed across the road, and was lost to view in the intricacies of Deansgate. ' Damnation !" muttered Varden, as he returned out of breath; " only that the thing is impossible, I could almost swear it was that devil of a boy who picked my pocket, Susan's adopted." Varden was not wrong, for it was, indeed, the boy Captain Flash. ( To be continued.) LIFE IN A LODGING HOUSE. PART FIRST. IN a very broad street, of a very broad town? Which there's no occasion to name, Where Iron and Tin hath much renowg, And its Brass hath mighty fame— In this broad street, There once did meet, The couple of whom I write; And whose strange deeds,' Morality needs, My pen should try and recite :— 1 First of the He, Mr. A. Z. B. For so were his letters directed; Poor foolish man! ' Twas a silly plan, And afterwards got him detected— He had come to the broad dirty place, to try aud settle there, He had heard that it was healthy, that foul and smoky air; But little cared he for the things that wiset; folks abuse, If he met with but a proper place to carry out his views. * * » * * * * And he quietly lounges along the street, Till a suitable residence he shall meet, He wanted a crib,, not £ audy but neat, And shortly be finds himself before A small modest house, and knocks at the door ; He is sjiewn the parlour, thinks it will do, And is equally pleased with upstairs too"; The owner, a helpless old man and his wife, Tell him they lead a quiet life— They and their daughters, E. and J— e, The latter, a well made- girl in the main, And Sarah, who ( I like to write plain) Was the wonderful " She," Whom A. Z. B. No sooner did see, Than au intimacy, And love full and free, Sprung up, aud increased till togother they lay, And, of course, there was soon the devil to pay '. PART SECOND, We must not get on too fast just yet, Sail was as coy as a maid, AniJ though owning her love was hot and strong, Pretended to be afraid, Tl) e deceitful scheming Jade ! It was my intention before this to mention, . The principal fact in our Sarah's queer life, I1 or she was a legally married wife; She had tasted the sweets of conjugal strife ; Had been woo'd and won, By a son of a gun, A rich old seribbler's son and heir ; They did not make a very bad pair ; The critical moment no maiden can bear Had given to Sail the knowiug air Of one who has not much virtue to spare— Who'd whisper " yes" to any chance fare, Regretting such chances were so rare. To be pressed and kissed she would danger dare, As I shall, hereafter, have to declare, When the mask from the wanton's face I tear, And lay both her mind and body bare— I know not the history, It's shrouded in mystery; So I cannot relate What particular fate Took away Sarah's mate ; But I rather believe, on a certain fine day, When his loving wife was out of the way, That he opened her box, and managed to find, Some letters he thought a good deal too kind. A sort of quack doctor, who wrote very fiue, Telling dear Sal, " You are morally mine." The fool also talked of a cottage in Wales, Where he could splutter his loving tales, Andother strange trash, but what won't men do, When such a queer jade as Sal they pursue ? So they parted, Both false- hearted— At least, I have heard that such was the case, And now, reader dear, we will get on apace. A. Z. B. was a married man. Knew woman's ways full we1!, At t his eventful narrative, Will the kind readers tell. And in a most unlucky hour, The wife of A. Z. B., Thought that away from home a timo She should much betier be; So toithe country B's wife went, But he remained at home, And after each day's office work To his lodgings he would come. He sipped his tea and smoked his pipe, And spelt the Daily News ; But all in vain— he soon grew d ull, And quickly had the " blues;"' And indisposed ( like some gay men) The streets at night to roam, His thoughts, began to speculate On something nearer home. " A maid," quoth he, " and then that wife That sleeps in a separate bed—" And feelings strange, hard to describe, Filled A. Z. B.' s wise heard. Alas! a few nights more, he sat In tbe old man's easy chair, The maid had welcomod him with smiles, And Sally, too, was there! Fair and calm la divorcee looked, Cocl as a summer stream, Hiding a mass of fresh- born thoughts, Deeper than B. did dream— For the first glance had done it all, She felt her destiny, And knew ( whatever else might liap) Connected they would be! Music and singing, Loving thoughts bringing, Reading and writing, Fond tones inciting, Dry jokes, Sly pokes, Assuring, dissembling, Limbs all trembling, Smoking and drinking, Such sly winking ; Gradual encroaches, Where they wear brooches— That, overcome, Handsmake a home, In the beautiful nest Of a downy breast; Kissing, caressing, Lips and hearts pressing ; Smiling and sighing, Teasing and toying, Novel schemes trying, How pleasant those evenings, so joyous and gay, And a dozen or so soon slipped away. ( To be continued.) SINS OF THE SUPPER- ROOMS. MR EDITOR— I have ever believed that the appointment of the new police, as substUntionary for the old system of nightly watch, was a wise and salutary arrangement. I am not going to discuss the right or the wrong of that position, but, through the medium of your columns, I shall take leave to call the attention of the public, the magistrates of Bow- street, and the Police Commis- sioners, to the existence of a certain inaptitude upon the part of the officers of the new police, which I think I am justified in designating the connivance at, or encouragement of, notorious violations of the peace and good order of society. In the vicinity of Covent- garden, viz., Bow- street and Brydges- street, exist a variety of public nuisances, yclept, " sup- per- rooms," to the terror and disturbance of the quiet and well- disposed inhabitants of that part of the metropolis. These places are not duly licensed, although wine and other intoxicat- ing liquors are sold upon the premises; they are the resort of thieves and low prostitutes, and kept by a set of characterless scamps, who do not hesitate to lend themselves to the nefarious schemes of the unprincipled rascals who frequent their dens, and live by plundering the unwary who may, perhaps, in a state of intoxication, be tempted to enter therein. Under the very nose of the police- office, and the police station in Bow- street, are these things nightly practised. These sinks of iniquity flourish, to the profit of the knaves who keep them, and to the shame of the metropolitan police, who tamely and tacitly acknowledge their legitimacy by not interfering to abolish them. The name of a free vintner is painted over the door, which vintner, accord- ing to the ancient privilege of his company, has a right to sell wine by retail; but the degraded vintner who thus prostitutes his privilege, is not the proprietor of the place; he ( the vintner) lends his name for a trifling consideration, paid weekly, and is at all times ready to come forward and swear that he hires the room in which the wine is consumed of the respectable propr ieto of the house. This is the ingenious device by which they avoid the penalties and defy the provisions of the law, which requires that persons keeping taverns should possess a license from a magistrate, j Young men of a gay turn of mind are tempted to visit these dens for the purpose of associating with the street- walkers, who, at a late hour, make such places their rendezvous. I am far I from denying to those unfortuuate women a place of shelter or refreshment, but that is not the principle of these places. A , badly clad, or apparently distressed female, is not admitted into them ; the women must be attractive, or they come not here. Besides the moral injury such places are calculated to do to socicty; their toleration is a manifest injustice to the licensed victuallers ofthe locality wherein they are situated. The practi- cal operations of the rascals must, to a certain extent, interfere with the business of adjacent public- houses; and, therefere, it is somewhat surprising that the licensed victuallers are not suffi- ciently alive to their own interests to inquire into the reason why the police do not do their duty and exterminate the lawless villains. Such persons as Howard, in Bow- street, or the Sheridan Knowles, Brydges- street, feel this severely. The blue- coated gentry are generally pretty sharp in looking to the conduct of licensed taverns. Why they entirely overlook these strongholds of vice and profligacy, where debauchery of every kind runs riot the night through, I am, indeed, at a loss to know ; perhaps the superintendent of the divison can enlighten ma upon this subject. Robberies of the most bare- faced kind are committed in these receptacles of vice. The proprietors of them are frequently before the magistrates upon charges either of robbery or keeping a disorderly house for the reception of bad characters ; yet, strange as it may appear, the nuisance is not abated. The fault lies somewhere, either with the police or magistrates. The suppression of these sinks of iniquity is quite within the power of both, and I trust, Mr. Editor, that, through the medium of your pages, a knowledge of these circumstances will be conveyed to the legislature ; although they escape the observation of tbe justices, and the local officers, whose peculiar province it is to carry into effectual execution the laws of police, but who seem in general to be satisfied with knowing that we have laws in force to punish the varlets to whom I have directed public attention; not considering that it is the greatest reproach imaginable to the ma- gistracy and police- officials of this or any other country, to have the custody of a well- digested code of laws committed to them, and neither to have the spirit, activity, or diligence, to enforce a due obedience to them. I may further remark, Sir, that the trash sold by these miscreants, under the name of wine, is an injurious compound of intoxicating filth, detrimental to the public health, and, doubtlessly, manufactured for the express purpose of stupifying any unwary victim who may casually fall into their meshes. I trust that the magistrates and police, will see to these things, and the young and unexperienced, will note thii advice — that if they enter these haunts of the vicious, although they may consider it a simple " lark," it is ten to one but their ruin is eventually the result AN OLD INHABITANT. Last week I was perumbulating a bye- street, thinking of " love, beauty," and amiable creatures; I thought of these things; they have been always uppermost in my fancy; indeed, I have hardly found them anywhere else. I thought of the cruelty of man towards innocent woman. Woman given to be his helpmate and to be protected by him. When just in the midst of my cogitations what should I behold but a female sitting on the step of a rich merchant's door. Alas! she was the picture of despair! Her clothes were far from new. Her looks bore the marks of sorrow. She gazed upon the ground; but not one sigh escaped her. I approached the sad sight. I felt in my pocket, but, alas! let me not dwell on the painful circumstance ! I had at least ray sympathy to give her. I was a man, and it was hers. I ap- proached and said unto her, " Maiden, why weepest thou?" She answered not but wept exceedingly, when I again said unto her, " Maiden, why weepest thou ?" Still she replied not, and I agai- t said unto her for the third time, " Maiden, why weepest thou V She raised her hand, and in a soft voice exclaimed—" Ax "' THE TOWN. S CONFESSIONS OF A PICKPOCKET- CHAP. V. An examination in London, even at tlie period of which I am writing, was a very different affair to what it is now ; it was a sort of " raree show," for all the rogues and vagabonds in the me- tropolis. The thieves and tavern- keepers reaped a great harvest, the former by plundering the pockets of the spectators in the crowd, and the latter by letting their rooms to persons anxious to obtain a good view of the drop and the last moments of the cri- minals. The depredations committed by the thieves were mostly of an open and daring character, emboldened by the fact of tbe weakness of the police force— the few special constables that were sworn in upon these occasions being more for the purpose of preserving order and keeping the peace than protecting the pockets of other people. The regular City and Bow- street officers, if they did not refuse, at least slunk as much as possible from doing duty at these places ; indeed, I have often heard one or two or the regular old officers ( now liying) observe, that it served persons right to get " nailed," who went to an execution. Hence, every decent person who was seen there the thieves felt they had a" sort of right to ease of every possible moveable. Entering the Old Bailey from Fleet- lane, the first object that attracted my attention was a large tent, at the corner, erected for the sale of gingerbread nuts, belonging to the proprietor of the corner house, a baker's. A crowd of thieves, prostitutes, and half drunken swells surrounded it, larking and chaffing the passers by. In the road there were a number of itinerant ven- ders of pies, with their stalls, and at the end of Green Arbour court, a man had placed a peep- show, one of the scenes in which represented the exploits of two of the persons who were to be executed ; at a later hour of the morning this was removed by some of the court, and a temporary scoffold erected, upon which persons were permitted to stand for sixpence— this change not being effi cted until there had been a regular fight between the inhabitants of Green Arbour- court and some of the friends of the showman. " Come in here," said Louisa, dragging me through the crowd, " I know the woman that keeps this coffee- shop, Mother Hilton ; she used to keep a gay house in Westminster ; she's a very nice sort of body, and will let us out on the roof to see the coves swing, for nothing." Although I had seen something of life already, yet the uncon- cerned, if not to say unfeeling, manner in which this girl talked of the approaching death of eight fellow creatures, somewhat disgusted me, and I made her no answer. She evidently did not comprehend my feelings, for she continued— " This is the first time, I think you say, you have been to Tuck- up Fair; well, if your aunt knew I had brought you here, there'd be a precious row." " My aunt!" I exclaimed, repeating her words, " my aunt!— what do you know of her, or how can she know of my being here ?" " Did I say your aunt?" she answered somewhat con used, " well, I suppose it was from hearing you mention her name last night; tut come, let us go inside," and with these words she led me into the coffee- shop. A strange scene here met my view, behind a small bar was a tall thin woman in a showy morning wrapper, with her hair in paper, giving to two dirty- dressed ill- looking fellows, some cards. This was the proprietress of the establishment, and the men were her touters— fellows who accost persons in the crowd, and ask if they are desirous of having a good seat to view the execution, ( persons of this description are to be found even in the present day in the Old Bailey, to the disgrace, be it said, of the police authorities). Mrs. Hilton, however, managedthis affair in a more business like manner. Her cards were, even at that period, con- sidered gems in their way, and for the amusement of our readers we subjoined a copy :— MRS. HILTON, BLACK RAM COFFEE HOUSE, ( FACING THE DROP,) OLD BAILEY. " This house immediately fronting the scaffold, persons desirous of witnessing the execution, may obtain seats commanding a first- rate view of the whole of this important ceremony, upon reason- able terms. Parties can be accommodated with a private room, or the whole of a first floor, by application at the bar. Break- fast, Is. per head. Tea, Coffee, Chops, Steaks, & c. See. Re- member, immediately facing the Drop, and formerly the residence of Jonathan Wild." As soon as Mrs. Hilton had despatched her touters, she looked round and perceived Louisa, whom she welcomed very cordially. " Who's this young ' un," she enquired, regarding me earnestly, " why he's very like Mrs. " Mrs. Hilton did not finish the sentence, for before she could do so, my companion had, I suspect, made her some sign, for she checked herself. Louisa told her that we wanted to see the men hung, and as it was now daylight, she observed we might go upon the roof. I presume it is hardly necessary for me to attempt to describe the company I found in the coffee- shop; suffice it to say that they were all, with one or two exceptions, of the very lowest, and the up- stairs rooms, as the sequel will show, were let for other purposes besides sight- seeing. As we ascended the stairs, a female and a well- dressed half drunken man passed, who entered a room at the top of the house. Having gained the roof, I was astonished to find several persons already there seated upon forms, drinking beer and smoking pipes, with all the zest of persons about to witness an interesting sight." The scene was novel to me, and I gazed around me with astonishment, for the leads commanded a view of the whole of the surrounding neigh- bourhood ; the Old Bailey was now one mass of human beings, in the midst of which arose conspicuously the large black pile upon which eight fellow creatures were shortly to breathe their last. I am not much given to moralising, but I cannot help reflecting upon the difference that has taken place in public feeling since that period— with what horror the majority of Londoners now regard the approach of an execution, and how the inhabitants of the metropolis, and, indeed, the principal cities throughout England, would rise with indignation, if they were informed that eight of their countrymen were to be publicly killed in the Old Bailey next Monday morning ! and it is not, I think, hazarding too much, or a presumptuous conclusion, to assume that the pnob would now tear down the scaffold itself rather than permit such an outrage upon public decency. Louisa, as I continued regarding the crowd, suddenly pointed out to me a stout man in the crowd, who was closely followed by three boys, and a man in a shiney cap. " Notice them closely," said Louisa, " and you'll see a lark— don't, however, go away from here, as I see a person in the crowd I must go down and speak to; I shall not be gone but a few minutes." I did as my companion told me, and almost immediately I ob- served one of the boys thrust himself violently against the stout man. who, turning round to see from whence the annoyance came, wa1* driven by the man in the cap against the wall; and, before he could extricate himself, the third boy, who was the smallest of the lot, had fallen between his legs. Io another instant the stout man was completely sur- rounded ; his arms which he had raised for the purpose of extrica- ting or defending himself, were held in that position by some of the mob; at the same time, I perceived the boy drawing the watch from the defenceless individual's fob, and emptying his trousers pocket. * Thisd scription is not at all exaggerated, such scenes being very common In the Old Bailey 30 years ago. The gingerbread stall alluded to stood at the corner ol Fleet- lane as late as the execution of Fauntleroy. All this was the work of a moment; for, quicker than I can write, the mob, as soon as the boy had taken the watch, by dint of the most tremendous hustling and pushing, carried the man a con- siderable distance from where he had been robbed, giving the thieves an opportunity of escaping— and when I next saw him, his hat was gone, and his coat nearly torn from his back. Tired of this scene, I walked to the back part of the roof, from where I could see the Fleet- market, and a part of Snow- hill, and note the crowds of persons which were hastening through all the thorough- fares to the Old Bailey. Whilst I was standing here, I heard the sound of a woman's voice laughing, and then that of a man, as if in anger. I listened, and then I heard distinctly, the words— " Give me the half sovereign first, or I shall leave you here." The sound evidently came from beneath me, and, at a short dis- tance from where I was standing ; my curiosity being excited, I leaned over the parapet, and I then perceived that a window was open, from whence the voices proceeded. Passing on to a lower parapet, and turning a sharp angle of the house, I came to a small window, which looked into this room. Concealing myself behind a projection of the house, I could observe all that was passing- unseen. The apartment was meanly furnished, the most prominent ar- ticle being a bedstead— seated upon the edge of which was a man, with nothing on but his drawers and shoes, and standing, in front of the looking- glass, tbe woman that bad passed me on the stairs with the man a short time previous. He was just taking his purse from his trousers pocket, and giving some silver to her; after which he threw his trousers upon a chair, near the door, and then dragged her on to his knee. Suddenly she commenced throwing her arms round his neck, the force of which threw him upon his back on the bed; at the same moment I saw the doorgently open, a hand and arm pass through, and the trousers gently drawn out. This, from the position of the man, was of course unseen by him, and the next instant the woman sprang up from the bed, exclaiming, " Well, I declare, if I haven't left my basket down stairs ! it will be gone if don't fetch it;" and before the inau could say a word, discover his trousers were gone, or recover from his surprise, she rushed out of the room, leaving her bonnet on the chair, to allay sus- picion. ( To be continued.) MASQUERADES AND THEIR VISITORS. The English are a non- masquerading nation ; they do not enter into the spirit of the affair like our continental neighbours— evin- cing an absence of that abandon which constitutes so great a charm in these affairs abroad. Masquerading, some years since, was more popular with the Lon- doners, but of late years it has very much degenerated. One great cause of the falling off is, the indiscriminate admission of persons to these places; to pay to a masquerade is now out of the question, at least, by any one who is at all down to the moves of town life. In the days of Charles Wright, tickets were sent to all the leading literary and theatrical characters of tbe day, and gentlemen could mix with wits and actors ; and not, as now, jostle, at every turn, against, ruffians and prostitutes. At that period it was no un- common sight to meet such men as Kemble, Douglas Jerrold, Young, Leigh Hunt, Sinclair, Liston, Harlev, Hood, and to go further back, Incledon, Hazlitt, Grimaldi, Kean, and Charles Mathews. Would any circumstance induce such persons as Buckstone, Paul Bedford, Tom Matthews, G. V. Brookes, Mark Lemon, or Vandenhoff, to put on adress and visit any of our modern affairs? Tickets are now occassionally sent to the " gay- houses," the higher class of West- end brothels. They manage the affair some- what better at Vauxhall this season ; but when Wardell had the directorship, the commonest harlot that paraded her body for vo- luptuous hiring, if at all attractable, received an order for two, in character, upon personally applying at the water- gate. Admis- sions are now obtained for about two shillings, even if the adver- tised price of admission is half- a- guinea, by hiring a dress of Na- than or Simmonds. The following is the plan pursued A masquerade shop- keeper rents a stand near the pay place, and is permitted to bring masks, dominoes, and dresses, and also have his name in the bills as costumier; for this he pays a very large sum, but, by way of making up for it, receives a number of orders ! admitting two in costume!! These are disposed of in the best manner he can, tbe common price being seven shillings for a dress and order, though six shillings will not be refused at some places for certain cha- racters, and the result is, the place is filled with the vilest rabble. All the low brothel- keepers, and the people who use the flash night- houses, get orders, and the plan they adopt to write to the proprietors or the person giving the masquerade, a9 a professional, dating their letter from Covent Garden, Hay- market, or Sadlers'- wells Theatre, and calling on the morning prior to the masque for their answer. Some amateur mad stage- struck fellows make a good thing out of the Masque- Balls. Their dodge is to keep a few spangled rags by them which they call dresses, and having obtained a pass for a party of eight or ten, as the case may be, pick up some flats, and charge them four shil- lings each for the dress, admission, and cab conveyance; there is a frantic vender of fishing- tackle commodities, who " hangs out'' not a mile from Battersea- bridge, who is very great at these games. This frenzied individual, who is known as " The Maniac Reciter," deserves a full chalk across the board for his cheeky perseverance. To show the indiscriminate manner in which admissions are given for these entertainments, we know of two Masque Balls, at Covent Garden Theatre, within the last, four years, where an order wasgiven, at the first,, to pass a group of 17, and at the second, 62 persons ; and, out of the 43, there were but seven individuals who obtained their livelihood in a morally or legally respectable manner, the rest being brothel- keepers gamblers, prostitutes, and pickpockets— a considerable number of whom, we can prove, have been since transported. Our artist has given us a sketch of a scene at the last Masque given at Vauxhall, perhaps the best place, from its extent, in Lon- don, for an entertainment of the kind; even those given there are at best slow affairs compared with the olden time. We mentioned at the commencement of this article the name of Charley Wright, and we repeat that he arranged masquerades, perhaps better than any on « has since. His system was novel and curious : he would promise to a party to leave the name at the door for an admission of six, and when the party of six arrived, costumed, & c., to the en- trance of the opera, there would only be an admission for two, and almost invariably the other four would pay. It was an ex- cellent dodge, admitting two free, and making four pay. It was supposed his great success in these matters drove him mad. His aberrations were of a most singular character ; he fancied himself the,, son of the Duke of Sutherland, and felt much an- noyed at being contradicted. He said lie had a perfect recollec- tion of being begotten— that the Duke met his mother at a mas- querade, entered into conversation with her, and, after some time overcame her scruples. There are many, very many, amusing anecdotes which may be told in connection with masquerades, but our limits this week will not permit. We shall, however, return to the subject in an early number. IMPORTANT TO EMIGRANTS.— The parochial authorities of St. Paul's, Covent- Garden, intend opening an " Emigration Office" in Catherine- street, Brvdges- street, and Bow- street, and will pre- sent any speculative licensed victualler, motherly cigar vender or magnified Mrs. Spinks, an empty house, rent- free, if they will come and live there. It, has been suggested that the prices charged for refreshments at Vauxhall, together with the remuneration expected by the waiters, shall be printed and placed at the pay entrance. Thi will no doubt have the effect of keeping the gardens from beins uncomfortably crowded. TOWN TRIFLES. THE Standard Theatre, in Shoreditch, is to be opened, we are informed, next season as a " Dookee," or penny and twopenny establishment, with three performances each night. A sporting chap I his I know, But dearly love a bit of fun j To bet with me is sure no go, The odds are always " two to one." I'll pledge myself and prove d'ye see, I'm a very moral sort of sinner; For many pawn their togs with me. Pawn, however, sir, to make a dinfler. On principal I live ' tis clear, And interest take in others' sorrow ; I'm loud in my Redeemer's praise, And always lend to those who borrow. Stanhope- street. UNCLE BAKEB. How TO SELL A QUEER HORSE.— A gentleman residing a short distance from Moseley, near Birmingham, had a horse, in the pur- chase of which he had been bit— as fine and showy an animal as one wonld wish to look at ; but it was no goer. A fortnight at the tread- mill would be nothing in comparison with the exertion which could make it trot four miles within the hour. Such a hack was far from the acquisition to the steed of the gentleman alluded to, but how to get rid of it, that was the question. He knew he never should find a purchaser at a reasonable price. Stretching his conscience, therefore, to a good length, he asked £ 40, and exhibited it at different places; it was, however, " no go" — he " backed" £ 5. If an advertisement had been put in the papers that it had the glanders, it could not have had a worse effect. In fact, no one would look at it. He now dashed rapidly forward, asked £ 50, £ 60, £ 70, but without effect; he rose ulti- mately to £ 80. A nobleman, who had ascertained this price, was desirous that his groom should ride it " It matters little to me," said the would- be seller with an air of indifference, " no groom shall ride my horse, sell or not sell;" and with this he rode off quietly. About a week afterwards a friend of the gentleman called about the horse. " My price is now a hundred guineas," said the proprietor of the animal. It was in vain that the friend of the nobleman alluded to the price originally named; after some time, however, he coolly observed, " I have a great respect for Lord , who' I know will take care of the horse, which is a great favourite, so I will take £ 10 less." The bargain was struck, and the horse removed. In a week it was brought back and offered to the original seller with a new saddle and bridle for £ 20. EXTREME FOLLT.— A certain half religious old fellow, who was in the habit of noting down every halfpenny he spent, left the following entry in one of his books, which was found after his death. s. d. Sept. 1st.— Shooting season commences. Mem.— extreme folly with the pew- opener's daughter 2 6 Sept. 11th.— Called upon Dr. S in consequence thereof, advice and medicine ., ., 4 0 In a note was the fol'- nving, " six and sixpence gone and still very unwell; severe teetu- ache all day— all through extreme folly." COMMON INFORMERS.— The very worst class of thieves are those who rob under the impunity of the law's protection. We allude to those delectable miscreants the Common Informers. In the last century, a gang of men, headed by one Jonathan Wild, infested the metropolis, denominated thiet- takers and runners both terms are nearly obsolete, but the body still exist and flourish in the persons of some fellows who get up prosecutions against the few gaming- houses now existing, and lodge informations against licensed victuallers. They are not certainly tempted to perjury and crime, like their aborigines, by the reward of blood- money, but it amounts indirectly to the same thing. The groundwork of their iniquitous machinery with the gaming- houses is to prefer a bill of indictment, and a true bill is sure to be found, for they have often been heard to declare " that they care not how much they buff ( false swear) before the grand jury." This done, a letter is sent to the parties, and demands made of a most exorbitant character, which, if not complied with, warrants are applied for to apprehend the indicted parties. This scheme generally suc- ceeds, and the villains receive large sums of money to relinquish a prosecution which, but for the support of barefaced perjury, they well know they would not have a shadow of a chance of main- taining. The same observations apply, to a considerable extent, to the licensed victuallers, who are often equally made their victims. A certain individual connected with the Glasgow Theatre sni I he bad offered Madame Sontag 100 guineas to sing two song she came to Scotland. " If you have done so," said a theatr 1 friend, " you'd better wash your hands of it as soon as pos-: or if not, you'll certainly burn your fingers." " I have no doubt of it," said his lady, who is a very jealous personage, " this is not the first time he has dirtied his hands and burned himself through dabbling in female speculations. DIRECTIONS TO RAILWAY TRAVELLERS.— If the seat oppo- site your's be vacant, rest your feet upon it, especially should your boots be muddy. The elbows make capital scrapers, and the back cushions answer very well for the mats. As you pay first class fare, you have a right to first- rate accommodation. Try, if possible, if in a second class to have eaten onions, when you first enter, thrust, your breath full upon your neighbour, they don't allow smoking; but they do not prohibit chewing, so you can indulge this to any extent of annoyance. Imprimis, to assure deafness if you are going a long distance is not bad, if these plans should not succeed in getting you a good roomy seat on your next journey, take a cloak, or coat, that has recently undergone a cleansing process with gall' NURSERY- MAIDS.— This is the season for nursery- maids, those families that leave town, permitting this class of their domestics to disport themselves in shoal3 in our parks during the summer months. To the rear of these females is generally attached a military- looking cove, for a soldier is always acceptable with this order of slavery. There are, however, very many grades even of the mentis nursery- girl— from the tiny creature just rising above juvenility, who minds the green- grocer's wife's child for sixpence per week, to the swell- togged- well- fed wench, who looks after the Hon. Master Adolphus, or the noble daughter of a baronet. Nursery girls are sent into the parks with three or four children, and pass there several hours; here they pick up promis- cuous male acquaintances, and often from those meetings circum- stances arise that end in the girls' ruin. Housebreakers have been known to make the acquaintanceship of some of these girls as clerks;— the result may be guessed at— young and fashionable fellows seek the parks to pick out girls for- seduction, as a butcher would the fattest sheep at market. The girls are foolish enough to listen, and believe what they say, and the matter ends in a brothel— a pregnancy— and street prostitution. The nursery girl, however, has other dangers to avoid, in the person of filthy procuresses, who haunt the parks, dressed as respectable elderly females, and commence operations by noticing the children, giving them sweetmeats, & c. They then contrive to enter into conver- sation with the girl, whom they rcogniseas being " so much like a dear, departed child." The next time they meet there's a little present, and then comes an invitation to the lady's house. There her beauty is praised, her figure admired— she is told she is too pretty— too good for a nurse- girl, and finally, borne down by flat- tery, her ruin is effected. Nursery- girls cannot be too closely watched, for their own good, as well for the satisfaction of parents,. 4 THE TOWN. MEMOIR OF A FRENCH LADY OF FASHION- ( Continued from our last.) " No," said Marguerite, " I will not quit Armand, I will not conceal myself to live with him. ' Tis foolish, perhaps, but I have not so long to live, that I should make myself miserable, and do the will of an old man, whose very sight makes me older. Let him keep his money, I will do without it." At this moment I entered abruptly, and threw myself at Mar- guerite's feet, covering her hands with tears, which the joy of being thus belowed drew from me. " My life is your's, Marguerite; you no longer need this man ; am I not here ? Could I ever abandon you, and could I sufficiently repay the happiness you give me, and which you have just doubled by the avowal of this undivided love, I have so long panted for ? No more constraint, my Marguerite; we love each other; what matters the rest to us ? " You see ?" said Marguerite to Prudence, smiling at me and looking all gratitude and love. " Oh! yes, I love you, my Armand, she murmured," twining her arms roundmy neck, I love you as I never thought I should have loved. We shall be happy, we will live quietly, and I will bid adieu for ever to the way of life that is a burthen to me, and at which I now blush. You will never reproach me for the past, will you ?" Tears choked my voice. I could only reply by clasping Mar- guerite my heart." " There," she said, turning to Prudence, and still in a voice of subdued emotion, " you will report this to the Duke, and you will add that we will endeavour to do without him." From this day there was no further question of the Duke. Marguerite was no longer the girl I had known her. A complete change was effected in her. She avoided everything that could re- mind me of the life amidst which I had made her acquaintance. Alas ! we hastened to be happy, as if we had foreseen that we could not be so long. For the last two months we had not even visited Paris. No one had come to see us except Prudence aud Julie Dupret. It was during this time she so often read Manon Lescant. I often surprised her annotating this work; and she always told me that when a woman loves, she cannot do as Manon did. Two or three times the Duke wrote her. She recog- nized the hand, and she gave me the letters without reading them. What this poor man wrote sometimes, brought the tears into my eyes. He had fancied that by closing his purse to her, he should bring her back to him ; but finding her silent, he wrote her, soliciting, as formerly, the permission to see her, whatever were the conditions she might place on his return. These letters I had, therefore, read and had torn up, without informing Marguerite of their contents ; the result was, that the Duke, not receiving any reply, ceased writing, and that Marguerite and myself continued to live together without disturbing ourselves as to the future. CHAP. XVIII. We often went of an evening to sit beneath the little wood that overlooked the house ; we listened to the joyous harmony of the birds, and thought of the approaching hour that would leave us till the morrow in the arms of each other. At other times, we remained hi bed the whole day, without allow- ing even the sun to penetrate our chamber. The shutters were her- metically closed, and the exterior world was for a moment sus- pended, so far as concerned us. Nanine alone had the right to open our door, but merely to bring us our repast, which we took without getting up, and constantly interrupting them withlauging and kissing. To this succeeded a short nap, which compelled the reparation of our forces; for disappearing in our love, we were like two persevering divers, who only appeared at the surface to take breath. One evening we were lounging over the balcony of the win- dow, aud admiring the moon, as it seemed to emerge with some difficulty from its bed of clouds, and listening to the wind as it sighed through the foliage of the dark trees ; we held each other's hand, and for the last quarter of an hour we had not spoken, when Marguerite said to me— " Whe winter is come, shall we leave ?"—" And for what place ?" " For Italy."—" You are getting tired of this ?" " I dread this winter, and above all, I dread returning to Paris." —" Why?" " For many reasons,' she continued abruptly, without giving me the reasons for her fear. " Will you go ? I will sell all I hare, we will go and live yonder ; nothing of what I was will remain to ine; 110 one will know who I am. Will you 7' " Let us go, if it will give you pleasure, Marguerite; let us take a tour ; I have enough for us to travel with for five or six months, if that will in the least amuse you." " No, no," she said, quitting the window, and seating herself 011 the sofa in the shade of the room, " where is the use of spending so much money 1 I already cost you enough here."—" You re- proach me for it, Marguerite! ' tis not generous."—" Pardon, friend," she said, presenting me her hand, " this stormy weather affects my nerves, and I know not what I say." And after em- bracing me, she fell into a long reverie. One day Marguerite re- maining alone in her room, wrote a long letter. At the moment she was scaling the letter I entered.—" Who are you writing to ?" I inquired. " To Prudence," she replied, " shall I read you what I have written her ?" I had a horror of everything that looked like suspicion; I there- fore replied that I did not wish to know what she had written. And yet I was convinced that this letter would have acquainted me with the real cause of Marguerite's griefs. The next day the weather was so superb, Marguerite pro- posed that we should take a turn in the boat, and visit the Isle of Croissy, which she had not seen. We breakfasted at a fisherman's. She appeared quite gay, and it was five o'clock when we returned. " Madame Duvernoy has been here," said Nanine, seeing us enter. " And is she gone ?" inquired Marguerite. " Yes, in Madame's carriage ; she said it was so arranged." " Very well," said Marguerite hastily, " lay the cloth." The whole evening Marguerite was of an unusual gaiety. Two days afterwards a letter from Prudence arrived, and for the next fortnight, Marguerite appeared to have broken with her mysterious melancholy, for which she was constantly asking my pardon now that it no longer existed. The carriage, however, did not return. " Why does not Prudence send back your carriage ?" I asked Marguerite. " She writes me that one of the horses is ill, and that there are reparations required in the Berlin." I looked at Marguerite for the explanation she gave, made in tone somewhat embarrassed ; but as, after all, they were probable enough, I did not insist. Prudence, who came to see us a few days afterwards, confirmed what Marguerite had told me. In the evening, when going, Prudence said she was cold, and begged Marguerite to lend her a shawl, which she did immediately A month thus passed, during which Marguerite was more cheer ful and more loving than she had ever been. Still this carriage, which did not return, the shawl which had not been sent back, puzzled me despite myself; and as I knew in what drawer Marguerite placed the letters from Prudence, I took advantage of a moment when she was at the bottom of the gar- den ; I ran to the drawer and tried to open it: but it was in vain, > it was locked. I then searched the others, in which were usually her jewels and bijoux. These opened without resistance, but the cases had all disappeared, with the exception of those that con tained objects of little value. A vague fear oppressed my heart I returned to Marguerite, who read, no doubt, on my countenance how agitated I was, and perhaps that which agitated me. for she turned pale on seeing me. I was about to ask her the truth as to my suspicions, but I was convinced she would not avow it, and I said to her, ". My sweet Marguerite, I am come to solicit your permission to go to Paris. At my apartments they know not where I am, and there must be some letters from my father awaiting me ; he is uneasy, no dsubt, and I must reply to him." " Go, my friend," she said, " but be here early." I departed, and hastened at once to Prudence, whom I found at home. " Come," I said to her, without other preliminary, reply frankly to me; where are Marguerite's horses ?" " Sold." " The Cashmere sliawl ?" " Sold." " The diamonds ?'' " Pledged." " And who has sold and pledged all this?" I exclaimed. " Me." " And why did you not apprize me of it ?" " Because Mar- guerite had forbidden me." " And why did you not ask me for money ?" " Because she would not allow it." " And where is the money gone ?" " To pay debts." " She owes a great deal, then ?'' " 30,000 francs still, or nearly so. Ah! my dear, I told you so, but you would not believe me ; well, now you are convinced. Love is all very pretty, very poetic, but it is not with this that creditors are paid, and now she can no longer rid herself of them, unless with 30,000 francs, I repeat." " Very well," I said to her, " I will give you this sum." " You will borrow it ?" " My God, yes." " And a fine thing you will do; " you will embroil yourself with your father, and engage your resources. Believe me, my dear Armand, I know the woman better than you do; do not commit this folly, of which you will one day repent. I do not tell you to quit Mar- guerite, but live with her as you lived at the commencement of summer. The duke will return to her by degrees. The Count de N—, if she receives him, as he told me yesterday, will pay all her debts, and will give her 5 or 6000 francs a month. Fancy that Marguerite is married, and that you are deceiving the hus- band— that's all." Prudence was painfully right. " Thus it is," she continued, locking up the papers she had shown me, women of pleasare always prophecy they shall be loved, never that they shall love; otherwise they would put by a little money, and at thirty they might indulge in the luxury of having a lover for nothing! How- ever, say nothing to Marguerite; bring her to Paris, and shut your eyes ; ' tis all that is asked of you. At the end of a fort- night she will take the Count de N— ; she will bo economical this winter, and next summer you will recommence. This is the way things are done." And Prudence seemed enchanted with her advice, which I indignantly rejected. " A truce to jesting," I said; " how much does Marguerite actually require ?" " I have told you, 30,000 francs." " And when must this sum be paid ?" " Within two months." " She shall have it." Prudence shrugged her shoulders. " I will remit it you," I continued, " but you will promise not to inform Mar- guerite that I have done " " Be easy." " And if she sends you anything more to sell or pledge, apprize me." " There is no danger of that, she has nothing more." This revelation cut me to the heart. I immediately reflected as to the means of procuring the money, and first went home to see if there were any letters from my father ; there were four. A DOWNEY COVE FROM GLASGOW.— We should have written to you, but it's utterly impossible to make your name out. We can understand the two first names, but not the last. Indeed, it is difficult to mak- j out any of your names. We have received your second letter. BRISTOL.— We have had our attention called to the houses, No. 2, Whitson Street, and 3, Tower Lane. Let their proprietors pursue their filthy traffic if they can get fools to patronize them ; no doubt they are both superlative quacks, for, take it as a rule, no respectable or regularly diplomatized mem- ber of the medical profession would lend himself to such a method of obtaining business. Our advice is to go at once to a known respectable medical man. One would imagine all Bristol was infected from the outcry these fellows are making; what are the police authorities about ? RICHARD LE LUTIN, ( Manchester).— Have we got your name right this time ? Send us the purticulars of the Casino, and ail that is passing there. En- quire if a man of the name of Stanley, alias North, is there. Who is Madame Anna? P. P. H. ( New Cut, Lambeth).— Your lines upon the needle that pricked your sweetheart's finger are pretty, but we think we have seen them before. " Ah, cruel instrument, declare What could thus induce thy spite, To wound the fingers of the fair, So soft, so delicate and white ? What crime was their's that they should bleed, And thou commit the ruthless deed'( Inflict not thus the wonton smart On them, as innocent as fair, Go rather and assail her heart, And deeply sate thy vengeance there; That cruel heart that will not feel, Senseless as adamant or steel. A STRANGER TO LONDON.— You are wrong. The Elysium Wine R. ooms are now closed; they were originally opened by Humphreys, in 1837, and at one time were a great opposition to Mother H.' s, which is also closed. Mother H. is still living, a wealthy well- to- do old lady, residing on her private property. When we last saw her she was at Brighton. BILL MANNING, ( Irongate, Glasgow).— Does this person suppose we have lost our senses, to imagine we can devote a column to puff his cigars, and write the praises of Fanny Sanders? One would think your splicing match had driven you mad. You may be a great gun at Forsyth's, friend Paddy, but your chaff about Leslie's won't suit. What's become of Cloudslie? With regard to the bagatelle board, we shall be in Glasgow in. a few days and will play you a game. No sharping, mind, or we shall tell Lizz, and then what will Jack Irvine say. Write on better paper. Where's Jessie Cambell ? AN OLD READER OF THE " TOWN," ( Jude's. Dublin).— We did not receive the article, but will attend to the subject. " THE NAUTICAL TAILOR" shall appear shortly, but we arc dosed to death with poetry. A SUBSCRIBER FROM NO. 1.— Recollect Charley Wright, of Opera Colonnade and Wine dealing notoriety? to be sure we do. Alas, poor fellow, he has been dead many years— he was a splendid chap, but died insane. His father was a sheriff's officer, and contrived to get Charley a situation of £ 300 per annum in Somerset House. Read our Masquerade article this week for further particulars. J. W. D., ( Temple Cloisters).,— The Correspondent who writes relative to this person should give some signature; not that we think it of any gre3t im portance to the public if J. W. D. does flare- up rather strongly in his chambers. TOM.— Do as you promise. NIGHTCAP, ( Liverpool).— You are a good- humoured witty devil, whoever you are. We felt much pleasure in reading your letter, and the '' TOWN " will be glad to hear from you at any time. Quiz.— There are some lines in a note to the first canto of " Hudibras " will just suit your case— they commence, " He who would woo a maid," & c. FRISKEY THOMAS.— Next week, if possible. A. B. ( Post Office, Nottingham).— We have no doubt a series of papers on the Bhendy Bazars, or public Seraglios of India, showing how the fallen daugh- ters of the Moslem faith pass their time and sell their charms to tho giddy young English officers, would be highly interesting, but our correspondent should send more copy, and must permit us to revise it. SINGLE SECRETS FOR YOUNG MEN, OLD MEN, MEN, MARRIED MEN. Price 6d.; post free, eight Stamps. An invaluable little work, giving rules by which all diseases can be cured without medical aid. " This is a useful little book, and should be possessed by every English man."— Public Press. EIGHT SPICY PLATES, a la Frangaise, One Shilling, post- paid. SPICE NUTS, a charming collection of delicious pictures, lor Bachelors' parties, Is. post- paid. LESSONS FOll LOVERS, only 3s., post free; originally published at 10s. 6d. COAL- HOLE SONGSTERS, Is. each, post free. Also, The SECRKTS OF NATURE Revealed, 2s. AMOURS OF LORD BYRON, 4s. 6d. post free. HARRIETT WILSON. 5s. 6d. post free. ARISTOTLE'S CELEBRATED MASTER- PIECE, 3s. Gd.. TAIL PIECES, Eight racy plates, & laFrancaise, Is., and Waggeries, four coloured plates from the French, Is. post free. MYSTERIES OF VENUS, or Lessons of Love, five plates, 4s. 6d. post free. WOMAN of PLEASURE, coloured plates. 5.<. fid., post free. One copy of the original edition of HARRIETT WILSON, published by Stockdale, 4 vols, in 2, half calf, two guineas. UN PACQUET POUR LES MESSIEURS, to prevent something more than Cholera, containing Twenty Four Letters, enclosed in a neat packet a la Francais. Prepare par M. G. La Mert; per post, direct, 10s. 6d. THE SILENT FRIEND, Twenty- six coloured Plates, post free, 3s. PHYSIOLOGY OF MAN, coloured Plates, post free, 3s. GENESOLOGY OF WOMEN, Sixty- three coloured Engravings, post free, 5s. MEMOIRS OF MISS F H , coloured plates, post free, .5s. 6d. T. Hicks, 34, Holywell- street, Strand. CHAPTER XIX. In the last letter, he apprized me of his speedy arrival at Paris. I wrote him to give me notice of his visit, that I might meet him. I left my address with my servant, directing him to bring me the first letter with the C post- mark, and I then re- joined Marguerite at Boujival. She appeared anxious, and in- quired if I had been to see Prudence. I replied, " No." tl You have made a long stay at Paris?" " I found letters from my en. rrt). „ mTrn , father, to which I had to reply." She appeared to doubt this, and ch ™ fE„ fron 3s. 6dMpGo" free thr° US" L°" d0n' in a few minutes Nanine entered, quite of breath, to whom she spoke a few words, and when Nanine had retired, she said, taking me by the hand, " Why have you deceived me ? you have seen Prudence." " Who told you so ?" " Nanine." " And how does she know it?" " She followed you." " You told her to follow me, then?" " Yes, I thought you had some powerful motive for going to Paris, and I feared some misfortune— that you loved me no longer, perhaps, or that you were gone to see some other woman." Simpleton !" I then told her of my interview with Prudence. Prudence is a chatter- box," she said; " what did I want with the horses ? I have made a saving by selling them. I can now do without them, and they are now no expence to me. Provided you love me, ' tis all I ask, and you will love me as well without horses, without cashmeres, and without diamonds." " But, my dear Marguerite, I do not wish that my affection for you should deprive you of a single bijou ; in a few days your horses, your diamonds, and your shawls, shall bo restored to you ; for, ridi- culous as it. may seem, I love you better when sumptuous than when simple." " Think you, then," she said, " that I value a carriage and horses equul to your love ? Think you that happi- ness consists in such trifles 1 You will pay my debts, you say; you will mortgage your fortune, and, in fact, you will keep me ! How long will this last? two or three months, perhaps, and then it will be you who will accept all from me ; and this is what a man of honour cannot do ; wdiereas now, you have an income of 7 or 8000 francs, with which we can live comfortably." It was impossible to resist so much devotedness. I kissed Mar- guerite and said to her " I will do all you wish." What she had decided upon, as to the taking of a small house, was therefore agrceed to, which restored her gaiety. Poor dear girl 1 I would not be behind her. In a moment I decided as to my life. I es- tablished the position of my fortune, and I abandoned to Mar- guerite the income I derived from my mother, and which appeared to me quite insufficient to recompense her for the sacrifice I had acoepted. There remained to me the 5000 francs a- year given me by my father, which was quite enough to live upon. The other 3000 was out. on mortgage. The day on which Marguerite and myself came to Paris, I went to the notary and arranged with him as to the means for transferring this sum to another, and I recommended to him the greatest discretion respecting my father, and then rejoined Marguerite at Julie Duprct's. Wo set out in quest of apartments, and engaged a small house and garden. Her broker had promised to pay all her debts, to give her a discharge, and to remit her 1200 francs for the whole of her furniture, and we then returned to Boujival. About a week after, as we were at breakfast, my servant ar- rived, to say that my father was at Paris, and wished to see me. This news appeared to both of us to foretell some misfortune. " Fear nothing," I said to Marguerite. " E turn as soon as you can," she murmured, embracing me, " I shall wait for you at the window." I dismissed Joseph, to inform my father that I would follow. In fact, two hours after, I was at the rue de Provence. ( To be continued.) post free. Edited by the Lord jMicea to ffioraspirtmttsf. GRATIS! GRATIS!! GRATIS!!! -\ TOW PUBLISHING, in Penny Weekly Numbers. PAUL JONES, TIIF, i\ PIRATE, a Tale of the Sea, by PIERCE EUAN, Author of " Robin Hood," " Wat Tyler," " Adam Bell," & c. With No. 1 is presented No. a. gratis, in a neat wrapper. Also, uniform with the above, THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OI' JACK SHEPPARD, THE HOUSEBREAKER, in Penny Numbers, splendidly Illustrated. With No. 1 is presented No. 2, gratis, in a neat wrapper. London- G. PURKESS, Compton Street, Soho, and all Booksellers in Town and Country. LEGENDS OF SCOTTISH SUPERSTITION— Being a Complete His- tory of the Marvellous Transactions of the Middle Ages. Modern scep- tics who doubt the existence of witches are warned to read the well authen- ticated recitals of this work. THE SONGS OF SCOTLAND— All collected into one little volume, price two- pence. No one who loves his country should be without this pocket companion. Complete for one penny, THE HORRORS OF EMIGRATION ! or, the Miseries, Privations, and Dangers Endured in a Strange Country ; Murders and Robberies by the Natives! Fearful Shipwrecks from Rotten Ships, tec.. & c. Exposure of Agents who will get you Transported to the Land of Disease and Swarms of Vermin ! A Shilling's Worth for a Penny. 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PICKLED GHERKIN, ( Hull).— This correspondent sends us some stanzas about a young lady who, climbing over a garden wall with him, sticks on a spike about 12 feet high.— Let one verse speak for hint:— '' Passing by Chappell Street corner one night, A village- born beauty attracted my sight, Arrayed in a fairy like girdle of white, With her long- streaming hair of most delicate hue, Which o'er her fair shoulders, all naked to view, In long twisting ringlets she tastefully threw, Whiie her arms, which for beauty no equal could find, And her small slender waist with a bustle behind, At once won my fancy and settled my mind. But then, when I cast my eyes on the ground. Two such pretty ankles so quickly I found, Joined to two legs so symmetrically round, Which shone tliro' her dress like the sun in a mist, My heart was entrapp'd, she smiled and I kiss'd." PRIVATE, IMPORTANT, AND PRACTICAL HINTS. 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