No. 48.— NEW SERIES.] WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 3, 1849. F JUICE ONE PENNY. SKETCHES FROM NATURAL HISTORY. SKETCHES OF CHARACTER, with eye nt1-" 06 she peers at him from under her bonnet, and P*~ ia, ms to companion:—" Bless my soul, Maria, jjjp- o's Mr. So and So's young man; liow nice he does look to je sure;" and with beaming eye she hurries forward in order, if possible, to steal the heart of the linen- draper's shopman. My friend, counter- jumper, Paul gives thee a little advice: if possible, get rid of that stiff- necked pride so common to your class— do not shave the ladies too closely, nor when you have won the heart of an unsuspecting fair ono, by means of passing yourself off as some foreign count, make a jest of your conquest with your brother stiff- necks, or Paul will certainly chastisejyou, in his anger, with his most fartherly chastisment. THE SELESTEAL SIESTA. AN OVIDIAN RHAPSODY. " IT IS A VIRTUOUS ACTION TO EXPOSE VICIOUS MEN."— DRTDBN. No. I.— THE LINEN- DRAPER'S SHOPMAN. On ! happy man, whose form and features Endears thee to those lovely creatures, Whose ruby lips, and eyes so bright, And teeth so dazzlingly white, Would move an anchorite's soul to love, Though, roek- like, fixed on things above. Be careful, now,— mind what you're at, Whilst pleasing with your harmless chat; Nor SHAVE too close the pretty elf, Or PAUL will surely shave yourself. Tnis linendraper's shopman is by no means a person of insignificance, at least in in his own opinion ; and though we cannot agree, by any means, with the filling of situations by those of the sterner sex, which are more fitted and capa- ble of being carried out by females, yet we do admit that they are an ill- used class of persons. Until the early- closing movement was brought before the public, we might almost say they were compelled to go through their dull monotonous avocations from the rising of the sun until almost midnight. In the first place, ere business was commenced in the way of selling, they had tbeir window to lay out to the best ad- vantage, which would take some little time, and then, by 9 o'clock, everything was supposed to be in order to commence the business of the day with. Then an incessant waiting upon some fickle fair one, who, for the mere sake of whiling away an hour, sits herself in the shop, and, ere she can be induced to make a purchase, has every box and drawer ran- sacked in the warehouse. To see a linen- draper's shopman in his glory, you must visit the Casinos, and other places of a similar description, where Albert Smith's personification of a " gent " is fully developed in his person. He has now more leisure time on his hands than he formerly had, and appears to enjoy himself in his peculiar way with no little gusto. With stainlessly white front and Beanfort tie, he imagines there is scarcely a female in the world can resist his captivating ways. His continual intercourse with the " ladies." enables him to amuse them with that light chit- chat so delightful to their minds, and the observer may often hear an eulogium passed upon the stiff- necked " gent" by somo. fair demoiselle, as, CHAPTER I. BY WILL WILD. No. I. MOTHERS. " Who tauglit me first to act the spy. Or learn'd my infant tongue to lie ?— . » My Mother." — If not Tom Hood, some one else. " My dear Mrs. Bluebottle," exclaims Mrs. Craker, " it looks very strange indeed, but I think I could tell something that might give a hint at it; but you know I would not have my name mentioned for the world." Mrs. Bluebottle raises her hands and eyes, exclaiming, " My goodness me, I wquld not hear tell of it for millions: and I would not have said so much to you, Mrs. Craker, if I had not known I could have told you anything without hearing of it again." Mrs. Craker's heart becomes softened, and as she steps over to Mrs. Bluebottle, lisps, " that was just the way with me, I thought I could trust you with anything." She then bends down her mouth to the other's car, and whispers something; they both give a tragic start, Mrs. Craker, with a knowing smile, as much as to say, what do you think of that. And Mrs. Bluebottle, with a look of astonishment— and when once she can find utterance, she exclaims, " can it be possible?" " Quite true. I saw him come out with my own eyes this morning. Good morning Mrs. Bluebottle." " Good morn • ing Mrs. Craker." And the two worthies part. " Here Mary, go and look into Miss Squib's window, and see if there is any one with her." This, of course, is addressed to her young daughter, who never goes out but she brings in some news to her mother. Mary returns with word, that Miss Squibs is alone. When mother and children all bundle off to make a call on her. Mrs. Bluebottle is all blandishments and smiles, and enquires very kindly after her health. And Miss Sqnibs after the children. " Oh dear me, Miss Squibs, our little Ann is a complete darling of a child— she is worth a world of queens, bless her heart." At this instant the child see3 something hanging up, and begins to cry for it. " Now," exclaims the mother, " you shall not have everything you cry for." Then rises, and gives her what she wanted, and blesses her for a little duck. Miss Squibs, of course, gives her a glass of wine and a biscuit. The child thou sets up a frightful roar for this likewise, and kicks and scratches till she gets it. The rest of the young ones crowding round like famished wolves, though they are not hungry, save through greed. Mrs. Bluebottle is about to tell Miss Squibs what she had heard from Mrs. Craker, when the above lady makes her appearance. " I am glad to see you Mrs. Crakcr, you have saved me the trouble of sending for you; I just got married yesterday, and you are both in time to get a bit of the bride cake." The two ladies exchange looks, and very shortly take their departure. ( Continued from our last.) " Oh, oh," laughed Eidgcr, " in that case proceed, for you can't do better." " Proceed about this fair Onina," said Basil, resuming his conversation with the Comedian. " Why, you appear struck with her before you have seen her," remarked Bedster. " Have you not heard Bracey's description ?" demanded Basil. " Is it not enough? Besides, I have had a quarrel with my last mistress, who has an idea that faithlessness is one of the virtues of her degree. We parted very amica- bly. The nights now grow cold," he added with a smile. " And you would be warmed, eh ? Well, as I said, she is no prize. In fact, her reputation for gallantry is so highly provocative, and, as she is certainly a splendid— ani- mal, she is also the more attractive to one who pursues his pleasures." " She cannot be bound, then ?" asked Basil. " In bonds formed of the wreaths of flowers," was the an- swer, " and those must be gilded. You comprehend me ?" " Humph, yes," and Basil sighed, but whether with dis- appointment or expectation, cannot be said. " Well," said he, " I am able to afford an expensive luxury, if it is ever so evanescent." " Her voluptuous disposition is said to be boundless," con- tinued Bedster, " and, although you may be gratified with a visit behind the scenes, still you shall be more so, supposing you may not have the opportunity of accosting her ; for, as ' Madame' is intimately acquainted with her, she shall be in- vited here the very first evening she is disengaged in the ballet, and you shall meet her." " And these noisy fellows," said Basil, intimating how inconvenient it would be for them to be witnesses of his amorous attack, " will they be here also ?" " Not at all," replied the Comedian, " we four will have a comfortable tete- a- tete alone, without any fear of intrusion." " That will be deligthful," said Basil, with a joyful counte- nance, " but— see, our colloquy is ended in time." " Well," demanded Roger Bacon," have you not discussed which of our fair friends has the finest thigh, or the whitest bosom ? for I perceive you are very interested in your sub- ject." " It's all about birding, never believe me," said Allanby, who had been talking with the others, " some knavish plot, I'll be sworn." " Do you hear how spiteful he is, that he is not in it ?" cried Bedster, " It is his peculiarity. I wonder Eidger has been quiet so long," he added, filling his glass. " He ceases to be any longer," answered the low comedian. " He came to his full stature some twenty years ago, and has since then been engaged in broadening out. Had him there, eh ?" he added, with a sly poke in the ribs, whieh made Allanby wince. " Consume it, man," cried he, " don't make the point of your infamously bad jokes so sharp ; my ribs are not proof to such a practical- joke style of conclusion."- " Give us a treatise on the nymphs of the pave", Eidger," exclaimed Bedster, with a view of cliccking or making a di- version in some prolixity which he saw impending them. " But first let us all replenish ;" and the glasses were filled. " True," observed Eidger, solemnly ; " let us drink." He was getting " on" again, " Throats were made for that pur- WE believe it is said of Napoleon, when asked by a celebrated lady, what France was worst in want of, " mothers," ex- claimed that deep- thinking man. And wa believe he was right. Admitting that it was so in France, it is equally so in England. " Givo me good mothers, and I will give you good men." Now the first thing to be decided, is, what makes a good mother— for that point we will leave every one to think for themselves, as we do. Every mother thinks that she is the best, therefore, we do not wish to offend any, by pointing out a different kind to the majority; we will only give a pen and ink portrait of a few living specimens we have at hand. Mrs. Bluebottle, next door, is a very neighbourly woman, and very obliging in her way, and likewise very fond of a little small- talk about affairs that do not belong to lier. Not that the dear creature means any harm by it; but only that she would like to know " where Miss Maria Squibs got that last new dress, ( reader, remember this conversation takes place before her young brood, who stand swallowing every word.) I am sure it looks very strange, Mrs. Craker. Where could that watch and chain have come from ? It is new, and very pretty." 2 PAUL PRY ; THE REFORMER OF THE AGE pose, and those blessed wine- skins, our stomachs, were made to hold a certain quantity, which amount " " You have not yet considered," said Basil. " I am interrupted," began Fidger, pompously. " You are silent ; that betokens penitence. I am about to begin," and he emptied and refilled his huge glass. " The nymphs you speak of may he divided into two or three classes. First, there are those of the Strand, who are near enough to the water to acquire a taste in fish, and to become air Naiades. Those of the Haymarket are a shade more ethereal, and be- long to the zephyrs of the Bark ; they are ( hie) female Dry- ads-, westward, in Regent- street, their ermine is more in- corporeal ; they are the true daughters of Venus, but cursedly costly. The first are free, familiar, aud low enough to drink gallons of porter, and to ask you with an air of sisterly confidence—' Are you good- natured, dear?' They have a penchant for gents in paletots, and are easily accessible. Their head rendezvous is at Jessop's pandemo- nium. The second are mercenary: they are dangerous to boot. To see the quantities of oysters and sherry they will devour is very surprising. They tell you, with a charming air, that it ' does them good.' Under the tutelage of the Haymarket cabbies, their ' doric' dialect is very choice; they can damn a man up ' in heap.' Their head- quarters is at the Piccadilly saloon, under the protection of— Marl- borough- street, and— tho law! Beware of them! For the third— the ' crinoline' class, I must have choicer termino- logy; their description is beyond my powers. If you wish to get into the Fleet, patronise them. They have a taste for j ewels, furs, and fancy dogs. Every ugly puppy is a ' duck' or a ' love.' Cupid is evidently dead in their dis- trict. French is much cultivated, but in many instances halts lamentably. They dwell in second floors, have gauze curtains, and their garters are a curiosity." " A curiosity!" cried Braey, " how?" With a dry laugh and a humorous leer, Fidger turned to- wards him, and replied—" If you cannot answer that ques- : on for yourself, what motive could you have had the other cvo"' ng, when I saw you at the window of a honse in Jer- myn- si. — it was ^^ j- a( jmit— vrith a young lady's foot upon your ..,„ e> and yQur hand out of sight_ eh? » J. nis sally I>. ^ uced a roar 0f hilarious laughter, which somewhat chagrine^ as appeared from his remark. D- n this fellow ! , Jittered; " What Bedster says is true. He does ferret out ev » tTi-. hing Basil Harvey, at this juncture, made a movement towards departure , and, after a little desultory conversation, during which Fidger drank Lke one for lost timf they bade their host adieu. " Do not forget what you promised,' Basil t0 the Comedian. " Trust to me," replied Bedster, as they desec,. if, j tjie stairs. " I have a tenacious memory, when anything' p„, a_ sant is to happen." " Thanks; I will see her to night, however. Good night." " Good night." ( To be continued in our next.) many of tlieir little peculiarities, and could a tale unfold con- cerning some of them. For the present we will bid theni farewell, but promise them that wc shall be " down" on them again ere long, unless we see an improvement. FILE. PAUL AT BRODIE'S DANCING ROOMS, EXETER. According to promise, we paid a visit to B—' s sixpenny hop, and found it much better than we expected. If Mr. B. were to keep it more select, it would be a pleasant party, and also pay him better, by excluding such parties as Miss" A—; the bang- up girl, R—, who seems fixed on wires; that monster of fat, just like a porker fed for the Christmas markets, Miss S. And, also, he should not allow E. B— to be monopolized by that L—, who works at G— and J—' 0, Iligh- atrcet, as it is against the rules of dancing, more espe- cially when the daughter of the master. We would advise a certain gentleman not to attempt to kiss the lady in the kitchen, as it is setting a bad example. We give this advice in perfect good- will, for the benefit of Mr. B., as we much respect him and liis amiable family. We shall pay him another visit, when we trust to see an amendment. We advise the new scholar, Robert M—, Heven's Bank, alias Bob, to look out, and behave himself, as we have our quizzer raised at him. PAUL AMONGST THE PUBLICANS. " THE WAGGON," SHEFFIELD. " Vice to be hated, need but to be seen."— POPE. VICE, let it assume whatever shape it will, is always de- testable to the well- regulated mind. And if it bears horror with it when decked in'all the gilded splendour of fashion and taste; how much more so must it he, when found in the filthy and squalid poverty of the den. It is one of those low out- tlie- way houses, situate in a back lane, that almost bears the mark of cut- throat in its appearance. In the day time, this quarter of the town seems to be almost deserted. But as soon as night begins to throw its dusky veil over the town, and buries it in perfect obscurity— for there are very few lamps, and those never lighted, save on the darkest night, so as to | make the darkness visible — then pours forth those painted daughters of sin; and I may say, in many instances, of deep and heart- wrung sorrow — and who, after wander- ing about for hours in the cold and rain, bearing the scoffs and insults of those who profess to be men, at length seek shelter, or entice the foolish victims of their wiles into such dens as the above. On the night of our visit, there were a great many as - s « mbled. The room which we were ushered into, was long and narrow, arched over head, and painted green, in imitation of a waggon. There might be about one hundred people present, the most of them* worn - out, debauched creatures. The women dressed fantastical and gay, with ) their bullys beside tliem. Human beings, in the shape of | men, who live on their women's prostitution. A night seldom passes here, without a row. And we happened to he in the nick of time to see one. There was a blotched- looking woman standing with her back to the fire, cracking jests with all around her. I understood she was a great favourite. When a fellow who had been tumbling over Lis head, and going through a great many antics, came forward,] and laid his hand on her breast, without a moment's hesitation, she drew her hand and knocked him down. His fall was received with a shout of laughter by those assembled. He rose with a fearful oath, and made a rush at her again, when a ring was formed, and at it they went— none of your scratching and pulling of hair, but a regular stand- up fight. The combatants being encouraged by their partisans crying out " Go it. Sall"—" pounce him ye divil"—" Now Bill, moind your e'en"—" down her lad, down her." At length the man 5 » ve in, and Sail, as she was called, was mounted shoulder rif'i' ear" e<^ in triumph through the room. Afterwards filled wu, (] rint> and bundled out with her clothes tied up about her ^ his was a new cause of dissensian betwixt the parties, whicu-, ouia oniy be settled hy another fight, so at it they went, pell- n « u; p0ts and pipes flying about in all directions, screams and ci^ es, foul round oaths, that almost frightened us out of our lii/ je reason. At length, after a great deal of trouble, we reachea the door, determined we would never be found in the Waggon again. THE ROTUNDA, BLACKFRIARS ROAD. This place affords a peculiar style of amusement much sought after by the gentlemen inhabiting the vicinity of the Now Cut, and is perhaps one of the most astonishingspectacles to a " green un" ever seen, as a specimen of a place of entertainment. It is a spacious and convenient place, containing several parts cach adapted to some exhibition, but the only one now open is the Rotunda ( properly so called), for an exhibition of comic singing, and a band of negros. Of the professionals it is not our wish to speak ; their accomplishments are numerous and perhaps superior to the general run of per- formers at such places, hut to suit their audience they are compelled to give such songs and dances as depict life in its lowest forms, and this they do to perfection. We were passing the spot last Wednesday ( the fast day on that side the water), and were rather " stunned" at discovering that it was opeii as usual; and ever anxious to gain information, we proceeded to penetrate into tho mysteries of the interior, thinking we might discover some new trait of character or person which had escaped our argus eye ; on entering we were informed that it was a benefit, and were supplied with a dirty piece of card - board and a programme, for which we were charged one penny ! this last set forth that in addition to tho usual entertainment there would appear several favourite performers, & c.; but of this, more anon. On arriving at the end of a passage we entered a large circular theatre capable of accomodating some two or three hundred persons, and this was crammed by a mass of young pick- pockets and prostitutes, with a sprinkling of the lower class af gents and respectably dressed girls; these latter for the most part are attached to the professionals in one way or other, and are ( in consideration of making them sundry presents and finding them in beer,) allowed to enter gratis, and so fill up their time in flirting and less harmless sports with the before- mentioned fast men. Finding ourselves nearly smothered by the clouds of smoke emitted from the short pipes of the gentlemen (?) present, we proceeded to locate ourselves in a gallery which extends round the place, and where we could better mark the " men and things" encircling us. At last the curtain rose and the performance commenced, proceeded and ended, but no sooner had the curtain fell than a yell arose and the audience began an active skirmish, and proceeded to tear down the door and curtain, and break up the seats, which they were only pre- vented from doing by the professionals effecting by main force a partial clearance; the row it seems was caused by the fact of much more being announced in the bills than was really given; but be this as it may, we never witnessed such a disgraceful assemblage before, nor do we wish to renew our acquaintance. We have marked some of the frequenter* of this delightful place of recreation, and should recommend them to mind what they do in future, as wo have noticed LETTER- BAG. ( - ( To Paul Pry, Esq.) Glasgow, Sept. 24th, 1849. DEAR PAUL, I am glad to hear of Mrs. P.' s welfare, and hope your own is also good. I am sure if anything was to go wrong with either of you, I don't know what I would do at all at all. You have no idea with what impatience I wait for Saturday, till I get your paper, and when it does not come on that day. I get perfectly fractious and restive; I could about as well want my dinner on Saturday, as my reading of Paul, so I hope you may long flourish as the editor, & c., of that most natty of publications. I don't know what's up with that nophew of yours, " Adam;" I saw in one of his latter letters, he was going to give you something on the saloons, and waited patiently to hear it, but as I saw it was not forthcoming, I hope he may ex cuse me for " taking the bit out of his mouth." I don't think any of the other saloons worth describing, as they are all rather " spooney" affairs cxccpt the " Oddfellows," oppo- site the " Shakespeare," which makes a pretty tolerable " show- up." The rest are decidedly " green;" indeed, I can't much judge, as I very seldom go to any, but the Shake- speare, which is a very good " get- up;" perhaps you may have been in it when here, if not, the next time you come among us, I think you ought to pay it a visit. Yours, & c., ***** ( To Paul Pry, Esq.) Glasgow, 26th Sept. 1849. MY DEAR MR. EDITOR,— Hoping that I shall NOT; com- promise my maidenly dignity, 1 wish your opinion in the following case:— I entertain a sincere affection for a young man who is a constant visitor at our house; but he has not nor can I with all my artifices make him, perceive it. I do not think he loves another, so if it could be hinted to him, I think the plan would succeed. What, then, would be the easiest and most effectual way of so doing? Would you, in your next, he so kind as to inform your obedient and anxious correspondent, MARIE BIBON. [ My dear Marie, if the young fellow is so very bashful, and you really think he would suit your purpose, pop the question boldly, as to what his intentions are; and if he does notthen seem to understand you, cast your bright eyes on some other swain, andmakeatleastonemortalhappy. Ei>.,. FWPry.] ( To Paul Pry, Esq.) Woolwich, 27th Sept. 1849. DEAR PAUL,— You cannot conceive with what pleasure I perused your issue of yesterday, whence I learned that an advocate for our privileges as females has arisen, in your correspondent. Plume. Irrespective of any assistance from onr sex, Plume has dealt with our enemy, Blue Cuff, as he rightly deserves. Any attempt, therefore, on my part, to offer remarks on the ungenerous nature of Blue Cuff's epistle, would be both abortive and of no utility. After the com- ments of Plume thereon, little further needs to be said; but I cannot, however, permit the present opportunity of thank- ing him to escape; and I do so, presuming that he has not only my thanks, but also those of the beau monde of Wool- wich, for his advocacy of our immunities. When a vile slanderer gives vent to his vituperations and scurality, ho meets that chastisement which honourable men are ever ready to render, especially in defence of un- offendingfemales, whose sole offence, as acknowledged by Blue Cttff himself, consists in being seen in the vicinity of the Woolwich barracks, in company with soldiers. If, indeed, soldiers were all of a class with Blue Cuff, then might we dread the interference of the press, as well as merit that censure which has so unjustly been bestowed upon us; but as soldiers are not all vile tradncers of female integrity and honor, associating with them can be no disparagement to female reputation; nor is such association opposed to every- day precedents. Therefore, although Blue Cuff has endea- voured to calumniate us, and cast opprobrium on our actions, his attempts have proved ineffectual. The superior pen of Plume has, it is to be hoped, silenced the voice of slander; and the eye of contumely has quailed beneath the voice of reason and" mature judgment. The ephemera, Blue Cuff, is no more, he has gone the way of all his kind; and, as the evanescent aspeisers of Bocial life are but for a moment, so has Blue Cuff gone lience to be no more seen. Yours truly, LAURA. MARONE; or, THE WINE OF LOVE. CHAPTER XIV. INFORMATION. Passion glanced over that lovely form which shone so dazzlingly between the united powers of beauty and art, with an expression of gratified pride and pleasure that lie did not seek to hide. Little did he know, however, of the deep grief that was preying upon Marone in his absence. She would weep for hours when he was not by, and a terrible weight would fall upon her heart, and turn every ray of hope into a cloud of darkness. Passion was ignorant of this to a certain degree, but to a certain degree only, for he could not be ignorant of the fact, the circumstances of her past life must leave behind them a continual regret, and prove a source of the profoundest misery. After their first greetings were over, Passion intimated to her that he was ready. He alluded to the jewels she wore, expressing himself gratified at his simple request being complied with, thus intimating with genuine good taste that he was the obliged party, even at the expense of such costly gifts. Marone's countenance lightened up as he spoke, and the bright features were illuminated with a joy which showed how vividly she valued his praises, as well as the appreciation of her desire to please. Pausing a moment, he requested her to be seated for a few moments, and as she obeyed him he looked into her sweet pensive face with an air of such conimisseration and tenderness that Marone felt as if she could fling herself upon his bosom and sob herself asleep. " My poor child," said he at last, " this seems to be a terrible ordeal coming, but you must have courage." His very words recalled Marone's fears afresh. She turned ghastly white and pressed her hand upon her heart; then recovering, she said, with a slow intonation—" Ven- geance crawds like a poisonous asp through the long grass. It comes tardily— but, it does come ; and yet— oh, yet my iviouj," oiie uUded, " I tremble. I, who should hesitate at naught, hold back here." " Do you know why?" said Passion. " I will tell you: it is because you do not place the object of your visit before every other consideration. Marone," he added in a low gentle tone, " you have said that you would trust in me, and you have promised to go— but no sadness— no tears." She felt herself insensibly drawn as it were nnder his in- fluence. " Yes," was her reply, " I will go, bnt," she added with an expression of countenance almost ghastly, " do you know what all this means?" " What?" asked Passion quietly. " It means an orgie, where, as Father Fineau says, the ' Wine of Love' is to circulate. You do not comprehend what that expression means— but no—" and she covered her face with her hands, " I dare not— I dare not speak." " Still," urged Passion, with the same unmoved gravity of tone, " you will go. You will trust to me. I am rich." " Why do you repeat this for the tenth time? Have I not already proofs of your wealth and liberality?" " You have endured great wrongs, as I judge, at the hands of this Lord Arleuden?" This was said as coldly as if it was an indifferent matter. " Oh! measureless wrongs," cried Marone; " thdy are un- utterable, the catalogue is black and full in every page. If I were to repeat them to you it would make you doubt human nature, and think all men— devils .'" and she began to place her mantle on. " You will, perhaps, see one or two members of Lord Arlenden's family,' observed Passion, carelessly. " His fam—, what do you say?" cried Marone, with the eyes of a tigress, " his family! What family?" " Did you not know that he was married ?" asked Passion. " I do not know that I have heard— my brain was on fire, and heeded nothing.— His family!" " Nor that he had two children?" continued the young man, who seemed to excite the nervous girl's emotions to the utmost. " Two children!" As she spoke this, she clutched him with one hand, and half drew her dagger with the other, while her white face had such a demoniac expression in it as would have been appalling to any but Passion. After holding his arm a moment she let it go, and a dejection so deep and profound overcame her that sho appeared crushed beneath an insurmountable weight. " Two children !" she murmured in the tender tones of a mother, while a tear trickled down her cheek. " Innocent and childlike. No— no— 110—" and she waved her hands as if to avert an evil shape from her. " They are respectively fourteen and sixteen years old," said Passion. " A boy and a girl." " So old!" said Marone, " And the boy promises to follow his father's courses," he continued. A smile crossed Marone's pale lips. " Come," said she, with terrifying gaiety, " Let us go. I am anxious to see them. Come, my friend, come." Marone, with ber superb beauty again illuminating her bright form, looked like a second Cleopatra going forth to conquer. It is hardly possible to conceive the reason why the noble nature of Passion should have condescended to move the girl's revengeful feelings as lie had done. That there was some cogent reason, however, was but too evident, and this reason we shall develope in due time as our story progresses. ( To be continued in our next.) PAUL i- itr ; THE REFORMER OF THE AGE. 3 PAUL ADVISES That insignificant puppy, Duke, alias Nosey, at Mr. C— d's, grocer, of High- street, Hoxton, not to go after the sweet- stuff- shop girl, or lie assuredly will have tho dirty kick out, if we inform the Governor, for he has nothing to spend out of his wages. How about High- street? you know yon had not a half- penny in your pocket. J. W., near Newington- green, to attend to the repairs ol his house, and be a little more with his wife, and not spend his time with another man's wife. Mr. C— y, the policeman, ot Charles- street, Back- road, not to use the young widow, Mrs. C., dishonourably; but to marry her, and not put the child into the workhouse, never to know its parents. Reform, or Paul will let the whole world know. Keep your sovereign, old blue- bottle, till you want it for something else. Hannah, housemaid at Dr. S— a's, Clapham- common, not to look after the young men and flirt so much, as you will lose Thomas T—, the same as you did J. E— p. R— t C— n, of Hackney, not to look at the young lady in Wade's- place, Hackney- road, every time he passes, unless he means to make her his wife: if so, he had better settle the affair at once. The dirty- looking chemist, E— n, of Bond- street, Chelsea, to buy some soap and wash himself and children, and not spend his time and cash with Mother S— h, at the Red House, and the extensive fair one of Marlbro'- square. The fair Misses L— s, the carpenter's daughters, of Robert- terrace, not to flirt of an evening in the King's- road, and ask the young men to treat them to Cremorne; but get spliced before it is too late. , The extensive Jack W— e, wine and stout- vendor, of Mill- bank- street, Westminster, not to boast that any woman must fall before him. No person can draw the long bow better than him, and the fair sex think him more of a bear than a man, and as proud as Lucifer. R. T. H— y, of West- street, SmithficUl, not to be so angry with " leetle Paul," for trimming his flighty sisters, touching their peregrination* at Islington, in their killing bonnets; and not to be so bloodthirsty towards our Imp, who furnished the information} but to keep his little head cool, and his exten- sive bowel ® wen, until his whiskers grow. Miss E— h H— n, late of Berecford- terrace, Beresford- strcct, Walworth, now of Portland- street, Clapham- road, not to have anything to do with married men, or pass them off as single suitors. That shop- boy, late of D—'* butter- shop, and who had the good fortune to marry the widow, C— e, of Rochester- row, to be a little more civil to his customers, and not strut about tbe place, so much like a crow in tho gutter. Paul supposes he fancies the place is really his own, when Paul knows full well the widow has made it over to her youthful son; he for- gets what he was previous to marriage, and that Iiis ward- robe consisted merely of what he stood up in. Mrs, M— y, alias charity- girl, Axe- place, Hackney- road, not to backbite her neighbours; but to stay in- doors and mend the holes in her stockings. Mr. M— y, husband of the above, not to allow his wife to hcnpeck him, and treat him like a child. G. W— s, butcher of Kingsland- road, to be more civil to his customers, and to go and see his mother a little oftener. W. W— n, jun., of Clarence- place, Hackney- road, not to think himself a Don Juan, for the girls only laugh at you. J. H— e, at the Crown, opposite Lambeth church, not to be so fond of talking to the frail fair at the corner of the street. How about Miss Jellybclly ? Reform, Tom, or we'll give you another poke. Miss C. G—, of B. A., of Farringdon- street, not to fre- quent tbe dancing rooms so much on the sly. You have got a smart little chap, and if you don't mind you will play with tlie mouse till you lose it. S. M— x, alias gorger, of Charles- street, Hackney- road, not to visit the Grecian Saloon and Green Gate quite so much. How about Jane and the fit of jealousy? Dick M— y, Granby- street, Bethnal- grecn, not to think hiics# lf a swell with his six bob a- week. Mother G— s, of Weymouth- terrace, Hackney- road, to recollect there is a law against keeping houses of ill- fame, and endeavour to get a living by more honourable means. PROVINCIAL. MIDDLESEX.— T. P— s, of Hamworth, to pay more at- tention to his home, and less to what so many fools say. Miss J. B—, of Hamworth, not to imagine Mr. W. B— is in love with her. Mrs. A. B—, of Park- place, Hamworth, not to set a bad example to her daughter- in- law, nor be seen with her bon- net beut coming from the cricket- match. Miss A. W—, of Hamworth- bridge, not to be seen at the boot and shoe manufacturer's. Mr. T. B—, the gardener, of Hamworth- park, not to fancy every young woman is in love with him, for they call you the old fool of Hamworth. EXETER.— F. F. T— r, not far from Groveland- villa, Mr. R— d, not to go on quite so fast, now he has attained 21. We think he had better be silore at the office and less in the streets. EyreK— n, not 100 miles from the Cowley- turnpike- gate, to remain at home with his children, and not frequent balls and saloons masked with loose girls. John II. M. S— r, not far from St. Ann's- chapel, not to take such long strides, nor bend his knees so much when walking in the streets. No doubt he thought he looked slap- up in his borrowed hunting suit at the fancy ball, but they were not the go. The boots were too tight, so he could not dance till he was half drunk. Tbe Misses H— s, St. Sidwells, not to stand at the door at night talking to young men. J. A M—, T. T—, and J. R, L—, when they next visit the Eagle Tavern to hear the musicians play their band, to pay the landlord for that which they have to drink, or Paul will eertainly acquaint your governors of it. Harry P— e, and J. L— y, the conceited puppies, not far from Garden- square, to leave off dancing, and pay your doctor's bill. We trust this will suffice; if not, Paul will give you another rap shortly. How about the young ladies of Newton- street, Cyres, old boys? Bandy- leg'd Dick, not 20 miles from a spirit- shop, not to waste so mnch ofhis valuable time in trying to find out who put him in Paul Pry, as it's no go, Dicky, you may rely on. You had better be a little quiet. G. B— y, not to cut such a swell as he does. You will no doubt recollect that Paul has seen you so intoxicated that you requested a pump to see you safely home. You are cer- tainly a most beautiful cricket- player, in your opinion. SURREY.— C. H— r, and E—, of High- street, Croydon, to leave of running against respectable females when they meet them. We know what your motives are, and unless you alter in a very short time we will expose some of your games. Mr J. R— e, of Croydon, not to stand so long in a certain cigar- shop, in the North- end, talking to tho girls there. It would be more to your credit to go and mind a certain boot maker's shop for 2d. per week. Mr. John F— r, of Market- streel, and Mr. B— 11, of High- street, Croydon, not to go fighting on Sunday evenings over two stuck- up girls. If you want to fight, why don't, you go out in the fields as it wOuld look a great deal better than in the middle of the town? Mind what you arc about, my boys, or else you will have to pay 2s. 6d. each. The Masters O— s, of Old Town, Oswald, of the Old Palace, and Edward R— 1, of George- street, Croydon, to walk through tbe streets in a quiet and becoming manner, and not to insult persons in the way they do. Beware how you act for the future, or else we shall have to lay our rain- defier about your backs to bring you to your senses. Thomas 0— r, alias " Oliver Twist," tho barber, of South- end, Croydon, not to go about the town so much endeavour- ing to impress people with an idea that he can play the violin. You can't play, Twist, and you know it, and what reasons have you to annoy the neighbourhood with your con- tinual rasping on the cat- gut; to be more civil for the future to his customers, and not to swear quite so much. Mrs. A— y, of Egham, to pay moje attention to Mr. G— r's house, and not to hang lier head out of the window, and not to trouble her head with other people's business. SHEFFIELD.— Mary, and the little barber, opposite the gutta percha'shop, F— market, to spend a little more time in each other's company. How about the other girl? HERTFORDSHIRE— Miss Sail T— s, of Nash- mill, not to be out in the fields so late at night, romping with your " chaps." BERWICK— Dr. E— r, to give up his old tricks: for a married man to have two children laid at his door in so short a period won't add to your standing as a medical man. David M'B— h, to give up turning his drawing- room into a theatre; it won't do; you are not the man you wish to be, and give up asking officers what their intentions are. John P— t, of Palace- street, to refrain from presenting dogs to officers of the 33rd, and then drawing on said gen- tleman for £ 20. This is not the system to pursue if you wish to get your daughters off John C— m, and James S— r, to be satisfied with less than 43650 per cent, per annum. Remember Weatlierhead, of Tweedmouth. ESSEX.— Mr. W. II— 1, tobacconist of Stratford, to dis- continue the practice of stigmatising the characters of his friends, by representing them as Roue's, also not to boast of his extensive connection with the feminine portion of fhe community. B— k and his bully G— e, landlord and deputy of the Royal Oak, near the railway station, to be more circumspect and obedient in liis behavour to the principal supporters of himself and family. It would do him more credit than to abuse them and always have a policeman at his heels to give them in charge. E. G— n, of Epping, to visit MissC— k a little oftener, and not be seen at Rat Hall so much. W. D— s, of Epping, to keep more at home, and pay less attention to a married woman. BERKSHIRE.— Frederick K— r, butcher, of Horn- street, not to gain the affections of Miss M— n, in the same street, and then make a fool of her, or you may repent it, old cock. James N— s, grocer, of Chatham- street, Reading, not to be seen with the Buffalo girls, or his wife may hear of it. Mr. S— d, of Alfred- street, Reading, if he intends any good towards the baker's daughter ia Horn- street, to- keep to her, or Paul will tell her of his goings on. DORSETSHIRE.— Jack, the sailmaker, alias the man without whiskers, of Poole, not to go to the concert- again, nnfess He puts in the plate something morejhan a paltry twopence. Mr. J. R— s, butcher, of Poole, not to go to tho Star and Garter quite so often; and when there, not to give three sovereigns to a certain person to say nothing about it, and then want it of him again the next morning. Jim S— r, West- street, Wareham, the crockery boy, not to visit the Drax's Arms quite so much. Paul thinks you are spending aunt's money very fast. The tanner, W. B—, alias the Bishop of Hong Kong, of North- street, Warebam, to stick more to his showy wife, and not have so much to say to Miss L— H, or he may get what he doesn't like— a tanning, & c. John C— d, of Wareham, to have another tack at the brew- house girl. J— s P— n, the mayor of Warcham, to treat the alderman with a barrel of swipes. KENT.— Mary W— t, of Ramsgatc, to keep her places longer, and not to wear the bolster for a bnstlc. Don't be so racketty, Mary, or you'll never get a husband. Mr. W. H— m, and Mr. W. D— y, of Sydenham, not to be seen in Bell Green again; if they are seen, they will not go off so easily as they did last Sunday night. Beware. The would- be swells, of Sydenham Park— the one a doc- tor's boy, and the other a clerk— not to go walking witb two girls, whom they think too poor to walk with in tho day Pray, what are your intentions, eh ? J. S— f, the fast gent, of Woolwich, who is particularly partial to penny- pickwicks, not to be seen with the three young ladies of Market Hill, to the annoyance of other of the inhabitants, by compelling them to walk in the road. Look out, my younker, or Paul will give you another rap. C. P— k, the London- street Tom Thumb of Greenwich, not to be seen leaving Mrs. W—' s, of Gutta Percha Row, for the girls admire your monkey jacket. NEWCASTLE.— B. I>— d, the conceited brass finisher, in the High Bridge, not to spend so much of his time at the White House; but save it up, and try to pay his doctor's bill. R. L— c, tbe thief- catcher, not to sponge among the pub- licans for his beer. Miss M— n, stay- maker, Collingwood- street, not to cast such sheep's- eyes at Paul when she meets him. J. J— n, one of II—' s engineers, alias tho North American Indian, not to run so much about after the housemaid up Westgate Hill, or he may have 2s. 6d. a week to pay. J. T— d, not to drive about in a cab so much, as it is very unbecoming in a ware- dealer's son to do so. J. C— g, the saddler's son, in Newgate- street, not to boast of his loyalty to her Majesty, in coming down from London to serve in that gallant corps, the " Noodles," as Paul thinks it is the 7s. 6d. a- day, and not his loyalty, that was the inducement. M. M— 1, the dandy noodle, of Pilgrim- street, when he goes to Parade, to be sure that he has the sword- belt on the right side, and not to allow the horse to throw him off. SOUTH SHIELDS.— S. J— n, alias " My hair curls natu- ral," Dean- strect, to keep better hours, and not to be seen so late at nights in King- street, or he will be liable to 2s. 6d. per week. R. T— r, Harton Colliery Hottentot, not to imagine he looks well wtih his fourpenny- half- penny cap and his two- penny starvcr, learn to look over your sixpennyworth of copper before you run after the girls. J— n II— r, alias " I have an Idea in My Brain," not to go so often to Miss S— n, Churchway, or he will have 2s. Gd. to pay. J. M— n, ( from Bolden), not to say he will break Paul's skull when he gets hold of him in Shields, for putting him in Paul Pry. James C— n, barber's- clerk, not to cut it so fat with his white socks on a Sunday, and not to go with tarry muffs G. A—, 01- if you have not felt his sail needle you very soon Will. A— r W— t, Hardin's- bank, not to go about telling peo- ple be can play the accordian, and his brother Ned the vio- lin or the tamborine, when we know lie can ptay his half- penny trumpet best. A. W— t, glass- cutter, not to brag so much of his dancing, because Paul knows he can dance best at a round of beef. Esther W— I, baker's danghter, to take better care of that brazier's boy, for fear yon loose him. Mr. William C— ts, shipwright, not to cut such a swell with his 18s. watch and watch- guard. William M— n, alias " Jewel Eye," to keep more in the house at nights, and to think more about his business, and to keep more from North Shields, clear of the ladies. John B— n, not to think himself so high as to go to North Shields, and pass for a shipowner's son. William S— h, of Temple- town, not to cut it so fat 011 Sunday nights with the girl that keeps the rag- shop on Ibe Bottle- hill, for it does not become him. J. M— n, alias " John, the West Bolden Hero," draper's- assistant, not to be seen with the girls that walk the flags. Thomas S— n, alias Scratch, to keep himself a little cleaner, as dirt does not become an auctioneer's clerk, and not tell so many lies. William A— n, alias Pig, not to be so very proud and stiff, and try to sneak off from ail old friend, because he thinks he ! is beginning to rise in the world. J. H— d, alias the Factory Clown, not to act the fool when he goes abroad, as Paul had his eye on him at fhe Flower Show, taking liberties with young ladies where lie was not wanted. T. S— r, giass- maker, Academy- hill, not to make such an awful noise at nights with his French horn, as the pigs are very bad to hold from rushing upon him. R. T— e, carpenter, not to be so coAceitcd, but to get some other girl, instead of Miss H., and not look so sheepish E. T— n, of King- street, not to keep such late hours, and not to go to the penny pie yard. Mrs. S. D—, not to be so vain, sind make a noise at the butcher's shop. Miss S. D—, of the Black Bull, not to think she's hand- some, or to stand at Mr. A— m's rails. W. B— y. of Jorrow, not to boast so much of his boxing, and not to use goose grease instead of hair oil. GLASGOW-— Tommy W— e, M— n- place, to give over " bouncing" and not to think he is a man because he smokes. D— d M'— n, or " the kye frae the Shaws," to behave him- self better to his landlady's servants. Alick C— n, in M— y and F— sfs, not to be such a gent. It must be very expensive to come it so strong. P— r M— h, alias Stone, alias Wee S— s, not to sham ill so often. Paul knows a medicine to cure you, " stirrup oil." Rose L— y, and Aggie B— k L— k, hot to be asking about F— h L— s so much. Why do you waver ? Come to the point at once. T. D. T— 1, not to visit the Saloons so often, and then pretend he never goes near them. We saw you, my boy, > " mortal," with your arm round Polly D—' s lieclc. LAUGHABLE THINGS IN WAREHAM. Bill S— r, attempting to ring at chatpel. My eye! what a " tater trap!" Mrs. L— t's serious charge against Rush. G— b's style of " squaring off" at C— e H— e. G— e H— e shaking his leg. Joe F—' s John Bull pluck, and scientific milling. Jim B— y being quite hypochondriacal at seeing liis name in Paul, and begging of Jim H— t to mix him a hypnotic. Old H— 1' s disgust at Paul. The majority of the inhabitants anxiously awaiting the celebrated " milling match." C— h being an intercessor for tbe cow's tail. Carroty- haired Emma complaining, actually, that she was in a " sweat" at chapel. Billy B— t whopping little C— h. C— s G— e's shabby hat. C. G— s, the printer's boy of West- street, crying till his mother gave him a penny to see the pretty peep- show. Ma'am C—' s pretty veil and bonnet. B— t, the apprentice boy, shaving. W. S. cutting his whiskers off with a pair of shears. B— 1 making love to Miss A. last Sunday week. B— t, the grocer, having a long chat with Mrs. H— r in West- street. IN POOLE. That ass of a secretary, saying that he would give twenty pounds to find out who put him in Paul Pry. G— e N— n saying that he was sure of having all the grocery trade, as he has had his shop painted up to such a pitch. Old Tom B— d, nigh- street, being under petticoat govern- ment. Jimmy W., alias Sleepy Jimmy, having the gas in bis house because they have lowered the price. Professor F— t " having his trousers lengthened with green baize. IN SHIELDS. J, II— n, draper's assistant, has removed to fnore com- modious premises, No. 85, King- street, where he Will go through some of his wonderful performances; 1st, by com- mencing with the brush; 2nd, I have an idea in my brain; 3rd, as Napoleon Buonaparte; 4th, as astonishing the natives of Shields. H. M— I'sy Tyra- street, what things come up to look at us. The idea of having only two shirts. R. P— e actually in love with Miss W— n, of Stephenson- street. IN NEWCASTLE. Frank C— c turning auctioneer. Jack S— n, lawyer's errand boy, Sandhill, getting married, and has only 7s. 6d. a- week. Mark A— r, one of the gallant warriors, commonly called noodles, who exercise in Newcastle once a year, having his sword and bayonet wrong side first, and, while in the act of unsheathing, nearly cutting his comrade's nose off. Bill E— r, of the Cumberland Arms, swearing about some- body putting him in Paul Pry. Peter C— s's carroty bead of hair. Bill H— y, the lazy joiner, dancing naked at the Green- doors, Pilgrim- street. The large concourse of people going to view the " enor- mous pie " in Mr. B— s's bacon shop. 2 PAUL PRY ; THE REFORMER OF THE AGE The wooden pane in C— e's office window, Arcade. The boy in the County- court office devouring tarts to the large amount of 11 bob. IN WOOLWICH. j— h W— s being seen to let improper characters out of the stable at the back of the house. Bill H— d, the knight of the woeful countenance, Star and Garter, thinking he is good looking. J— k S— s, the carter's blissful ignorance. Not H— s beastly wit. B— s, the stonemason's, very handsome face. B— d getting the servant to apply the fuller's- earth for him, when he come home from soldiering. The cranky tailor doing Mazeppa, when he goes playing at soldiers. G— n's, of Powis- street, cleanly appearance. D— d R— e, Fortune of War, having his face slapped by the artilleryman's wife. IN GREENWICH. Bill L— y's horrible meanness and shabby tricks to his associates. Miss T— n's attempts upon the poor waiter at the Grey- hound. The Misses K— ll's incessant flirting in their father's court. T— m J— n's matrimonial attempts upon poor P— r of the Eight Bells. Pudding- headed M— 11, of the Admiral Hardy. B— 11 N— n's bandy legs. A. G— n being obliged to do as he is told by his barmaid. Miss O— d fretting about Mr. P— k's gutta perclia tricks. Misses W— t's, of Stockwell- street, attempts at getting sweethearts while they flirt so. IN CROYDON. James R— e running about the town with a brass chain and a slice of turnip tied to it. Miss F— e, alias Fox Glove, trying to sing. John F— r and B— n lighting over two girls. IN PRAED- STREET, PADDINGTON. H— n's newly painted coffee- shop front. C— s the greengrocer's six- inch nose. The Misses C— s, daughters of the above, casting Bitch sheep's- eye glances on all the young men as they pass, M— n's Tom and Jerry fish- stall. Which clears most, M— n or G-- s? E— n's new sash. Henry T— r, the china boy, and his cricket companions, threatening to put down Paul Pry. B— d's chimney- pots. C— f, the broker's surly tongue. W— r's attempt at building, and his dodges to evade the district surveyor. C— n's, the greengrocer's, polite manner of swearing. The Misses S— n's varied attractions. Old T— t's bounce over the card- counting girls. THE FRAIL SISTERHOOD. PIVOINE. CHAPTER XXI. ( ContlndcJ.) Pivoine, we know, was not, and never had been, amorous of Virgil; she felt herself, nevertheless, deeply wounded at the conduct of her lover, who, obeying without opposition the paternal commands, had suddenly departed, unknown to her, leaving her in a position horribly false, from which she had only emerged by chance, and thanks to the unexpected kindness of a stranger. Arsene, willing to give himself a gloss of chivalric generosity at a small expense, warmly undertook the defence of his rival. " He has been surprised, dragged away," he said; " he must have gone without having had time to recollect himself, but be assured that all his thoughts are for you: he will send you news of himself— he will write you; when one has loved a woman that resembles you, Pivoine, I feel that it is morally impossible to forget her!!!" About midnight, Bachu conducted back the young girl to the Germanic Hotel, and quitted her on the threshold without even asking her permission to deposit on her fair hand, so neatly gloved, a respectful kiss. The following day passed without bringing any fresh incidents. On the next succeeding one, Arsene installed Pivoine in her lodgings in the Rue Madame; but before quitting the hotel, he took especial care to direct Antoine, in presence of the young girl, to receive any letters that might arrive from Bar- sur- Aube, and to keep them that they might be delivered lo him, when he should call for them. We may remember that it was at Bar- sur- Aube that Virgil's father lived. Need we say that Pivoine found the apartments and the Inrniture charming? She still believed, however, that she was in a furnished hotel, and her adorer would not as yet reveal the whole truth to her. During the first few days Pivoine frequently spoke of Virgil. " Did you pass the Rue de la Harpe, my friend ?"~ lhe enquired of Bachu, the moment he entered her room. " Yes, undoubtedly," replied the young man. " And there was nothing?" " Nothing." Pivoine bent down her head, and felt silently indignant at the complete and rapid indifference of the student. Now, Arsene told a lie. Two letters, addressed to Pivoine, had already arrived, but he had judged it convenient to throw them into the fire, instead of delivering them. Virgil supposed himself forgotten, and wrote no more. This was just what Arsene wished. As lor Pivoine, she soon ceased to speak of the traitor, and ere long, we confess, she ceased completely to think of him. She enjoyed a lull share of material happiness. Arsene had provided her with a femme de chambre, and defrayed, by tbe management of the latter, the whole expenses of the menage. Pivoine, from time to time, sent to the pawn- shop a shawl or a broach, and employed the money she received upon it, in those futile expenses of which she had contracted a habit and a necessity. One day, however, she began to reflect how very precarious was her position, and resolved to come to some " explanation with Arsene. This was precisely what the young man awaited. CHAP. XXII. THE ADVICE OF A LOVER. ON this day, then, Arsene did not arrive at the young girl's till abount eight o'clock in the evening. It was the month of June, and the hazy shadows ascended slowly from above, after a suffocating day. Pivoine, seated at the balcony of her apartment, felt a warm and gentle breeze caress her face, and attract towards her the perfumed odours from the noble trees of the Luxem- bourg, mingled with the concert of the feathery tribe that nestled in the foliage. Her eyes were half closed; she listened to the music; she inhaled the breeze; and the murmur of the song of the birds, the penetrating odour of the flowers and shrubs car- ried her back ill imagination amidst the woods of Normandy. The sound of Arsene's steps, as he crossed the small saloon, awoke her from this delightful revorie. The young man took a chair, and seated himself at her side. " Of what are you thinking?" he enquired of her. " Of what, my friend?" " Yes, of what?" " Of the past and the future." " And no doubt," 6aid Arsene, laughing, " both appear to you clothed in very sombre colours. ?" " More gloomy than you think," replied the young girl, with a melancholy smile. " Seriously?" " Quite seriously." " Then there is something that afflicts or vexes you, and I am too sincerely your friend to fear to be indiscreet in press- ing you to reveal to me the causes of this grief or this trouble." " You anticipate my desires; for I myself was about to speak to you." " I thank you— aud now I am listening, and await you." " What I have to say to you is very simple; promise me, therefore, to reply to me with complete frankness." " I promise you." " And I rely upon it. Well, my friend, tell me, what think you of my position?" " Why," replied Arsene, " your position is that of a woman, quite young, very handsome, admired by all who approach her, adored by all who surround her— I can fancy nothing more amiable." " You do not play open- handed," exclaimed the young girl. " I ask you for the truth, and you serve me with a flattery. We shall not understand each other." " I hope otherwise." C To be continued in our next.) CORRESPONDENCE. PAUL PRY will be sent free, direct from the Office, to any part of the United Kingdom, on the remittance of two postage stamps. *„* Every letter, for the future, containing advice, must be ac- companied by three postage stamps.— All letters for insertion in the current number, must reach our office five days prior to the publication of our Journal, or they cannot be inserted. J. H. ( West- end).— We should bo most happy to hear from you weekly. You may fully rely upon the secrecy of the affair. All papers are destroyed immediately after they are copied for the printer. SEPTIMUS.— We thank you, and will avail ourselves of your offer. *** A Friend to Paul ( Wareham).— We have but one other correspondent in your locality, and we can answer for his respectability. VERITAS ( Exeter.)— Send as often as you please. G. W. ( Exeter.)— If it had reached our office it would have been inserted, unless particularly objectionable. A BOOKSELLER ( Glasgow.)— It was at the request of nu- merous subscribers we dropped tho illustration. Many booksellers, in London, would not sell them on account of the picture: we have, however, to diversify the numbers, come to the conclusion of having a small cut in the centre column, illustrative of trades, professions, & c. We are much obliged to you for your kind wishes. Tho " Letters on Convent Discipline," will be resumed in an early number. HURRO THERE ( Glasgow.)— We should be thankful for some. All our advice is given with the best intention, and in as mild and fatherly a tone as possible. R. R.— We have inserted more than one of your notices; but it is against our rules, unless accompanied by the usual number of stamps, v If our Egham correspondent would please to write in prose, we should be happy to attend to it. We cannot possibly undertake to rectify versification unless it is some- what near the mark. Write again. Our Poole friend is informed all letters are destroyed after being copied for the printer, therefore we could not possibly comply with his wish. Many thanks for the interest taken in our work. The lines are scarcely the thing; try again. WAG.— Send them by all moans; we'll endeavour to put them ship- shape. KING.— Three postage- stamps are the proper quantity. A READER, AND WILL EVER REMAIN so.— We cannot possibly make out your letter. We have spent near two hours to find out the meaning, but cannot. Write again, and more legibly, and we will insert it with pleasure. WILL WILD.— We are happy to hear you are in the land of the living, and thank you for your sketches. We will make bold to call on you at an early opportunity. TAKE CARE OF YOUR TEETII I If your Teeth are discoloured from neglect, and there is an accu- mulation of Tarter upon them, it is offensive to the sight, imparts a foulness to the breath, and destroys the Teeth and Gums, producing Scnrvy, & o., have it instantly removed, and your Teeth beautifully burnished, for Is, 6d., by MR. ALEXANDER, Dentist, 74, St. Martins Lane. If your Teeth arc Decayed, have them immediately Stopped with a pure and harmless substance, invented by Mr. Alexander, preventing Tooth Ache and further decay, for ls. The Teeth will then be rendered sound and useful as ever, and the disease prevented from affecting the adjoining Teeth. If, however, from inattention to those rules, you have lost your Teeth, have them immediately replaced by the successful and scientific methods used by Mr. Alexander, by which the extraction of roots, or any painful operation is rendered unnecessary, for 2s. 6d. per Tooth, or you will entail upon yourself the numerous diseases which indigestion gives rise to, from insufficient mastication of the food, besides the great disfigurement ofthe face, which loss of Teeth occasions. In caws of Extraction ofthe Teeth, they are generally wrenched out with brute force, regardless of the various directions of ihe fangs of each, producing incaldulableinjury, great and unnecessary pain, and frequent loss of portions of the jaw. Have your's extracted by Mr. Alexander's newly- invented instruments, causing the least possible pain, for 6d. MR. ALEXANDER, DENTIST, 74, St. Martin's Lane, near Long Acre. ( From Mr. Gavin's 23, Southampton Street, Strand.) PRIVATE HINTS on all SECRET DISEASES, Generative Weakness, and Nervous Debility, & c., with riain Directions for Cure, price Sixpence, post- free Eightpence. By DR. WALTON, M. R. C. S., & c„ who may bo confidentially consulted ( without a fee) from 8 a. m. to 10 p. m., daily, at his residence, No. 55, Gt. Queen Street, Lincoln's- lnn- Fields. Established Twenty Years. Gonorrhoea and ordinary cases of Syphilis perfectly eradi- cated within a week. Persons labouring under Seminal Weakness, or Nervous Debility, restored to vigorous health in one month. Country patients fully describing their complaints, age, habits, and sex, can have a Cose of Medicine forwarded with the greatest se- cresy, sufficient to effect a complete cure. N. B.— Medicine with advice forwarded, sub rosa, immediately on the receipt, of one pound. All letters promptly answered. EXTRAORDINARY SUCCESS OF THE NEW REMEDY WHICH IN NO INSTANCE HAS EVER BEEN KNOWN TO FAIL!!! T\ R. WALTER DE ROOS, 1, Ely- place, Holborn- hill, London 1J earnestly invites every one suffering from those dangerous and hitherto considered incurable diseases, arising from Solitary and Se- dentary Habits, Indiscriminate Excesses, Infection, such as Gonorr- hoea, Gleet, Stricture, and Syphilis, or Venereal Disease, in all then- varieties and stages— which, owing to improper treatment by ignorant and experimentalising quacks, almost always end in Gravel, 1' ains in the Kidneys, Back and Loins, and finally death— to avail them- selves of Iiis important discoveries, whicb, during an immense practice, he lias found of the utmost certainty, and to surpass all other modes of treatment yet known. The vast amount of practice Dr. DE Roos has had at the principal hospitals in London and on the continent, enables him to treat, with the utmost certainty of cure, this calamitous class of diseases, which have, up to the present time, been quite beyond the reach of medical men ; lor though they have succeeded by the old system in arresting or allaying the first symptoms, it is an universal fact that these have been invariably followed by diseases of a far more dangerous and painful character, called Secondary Symptoms, which, in plain language, is synony- mous with a Lingering Death ! But, thanks to science, he is now, after many years of study and practice, aided by the modern im- provements in Chemistry, inpossession of the only remedy by which fie guarantees a perfect and lasting enre, and also eradicates every symptom of disease, whether primary or secondary. This truth has already been manifested in many thousands of instances; and, as a further guarantee, he undertakes to cure the most inveterate case in A TEW DAYS, without suspension from business, or return the money. All those deemed INCURABLE, are particularly invited. Country patients will be minute in the detail of their cases, as that will render a personal visit unnecessary.— Advice, with medecine £ 1. Patients corresponded with till cured. Females may, with the utmost safety, confide themselves to the care of Dr. DE Roos, as the most inviolable secrecy and delicacy are observed, and as no two patients are ever admitted at the same time, to the same room, or allowed to depart together, the posssibility of contact, or exposure, is entirely prevented. — At home daily, from 10 till 1, and 4 till 8 ; Sundays, 10 till 1.— Post Office Orders payable at the Holborn Office, to Walter de Roos, M. D., I, ELY- PLACE, HOLBORN- HILL, LONDON. Read Dr, de Roos' Celebrated Work. Just published, 64th Thousand, 144 pages, Illustrated with numerous Coloured Engravings, in a sealed envelope, from the Author, and all respectable Booksellers, in English French, or German, 2s.; or free by post for 32 postage stamps. THE MEDICAL ADVISER. An Essay on the Obligations ol Marriage ; the Treatment and Cure of all those Secret Disorders arising from early Excesses and Infections, with plain directions for the removal of every disqualification, with ease, seeresy, and safety. " This work is indeed a boon to the public, as it has the two- fold advantage of plainness and being written by a duly qualified man- who evidently understands his subject."— Daily Times. ONE TRIAL ONLY is solicited, as that will prove the value of the Compound RENALPILLSforspcedily curing Gonorrhoea, Gleet, Stricture, Gravel, Lumbago, Pains in the Back, Diseases of the Bladder, Kidneys, and Urinary Organs generally, whether resulting from imprudence or otherwise. These Pills have never been known to fail, and can only be obtained of Dr. De Roos, I, Ely- place, Holborn- hill, London, Price 2s. 9d. and 4s. 6d. per Box. N. B. Sufferers are cautioned, as they value life, to guard against youthftil impostors, who, for obvious reasons, dishonestly copy this announcement. YOU MAY BE CURED YET. HOLLOWAY'S OINTMENT. CUKE OF RHEUMATISM AND RHEUMATIC GOUT.— Extract of a Letter from Mr. Thomas Brunton, Landlord ofthe Waterloo Tavern Coatham, Yorkshire, late ofthe Life Guards, dated September28th, l 848 To PROFESSOR HOLLOWAY.— SIB,— For a long time I was a Martyr to Rheumatism and Rheumatic Gout, and for ten weeks previous to using your medicines, I was so bad as not to be able to walk. 1 had tried doctoring and medicines of every kind, but all to no avail, indeed I daily got worse, and felt that I must shortly die. From see- ing your remedies advertised in the paper I take in, I thought I would give them a trial. I did so. 1 rubbed the Ointment in as I directed, and kept cabbage leaves to the part thickly spread with it, I and took the Pills night and morning. In three weeks I was enabled : to walk about for an hour or two in tlie day with a stick, and in seven weeks I could go any where without one. I am now, by the blessing of God and your medicines, quite well, and have been attending to my business for more than seven months, without any symptoms of the return of my old complaint. Besides my case of Rheumatic Gout, I have lately had proof that your Pills and Ointment will heal any old wound or ulcer as amarried woman, living near me, had had a bad leg for four years, which no one could cure, and I gave her soir; of your Pills and Ointment, which soundly healed it when nothing else wonld do it, For your information I had the honor to serve my countryf or twenty- five years in the first regiment of Life Guards, and was eighteen years a Corporal. I was two years in tho Peninsula War, and was at the Battle of Waterloo. I was discharged with a pension on the 2nd September, 1833. The Commanding Officer at the time, was Colonel Lygon, who isjnow a General. I belonged to the troop of Captain tbe Honourable Henry Baring. ( Signed) THOMAS BRUNTON. CUBE OF A BAD LEO OF TWENTY ONE YEARS' STANDING.— EX tract of a Letter from Mr. Andrew Brack, Blacksmith, Eyemouth near Berwick, dated the 10th of August, 1848. To PROFESSOR HOLLOWAY.— SIR,— With pleasure and gratitude have to inform you that after suffering for twenty- one years with a bad leg, which yielded to no kind of treatment, although I consulted at different times, every medical man of eminence in this part oftlie Country, but all to no puroose. I was frequently unable to work; and the pain and agony I often endured no one can tell. My leg is Mow as sound as ever it was in my life by means of your Pills and Ointment, which I purchased from Mr. I. Davidson, Druggist, Ber- wick- upon- Tweed, who knows my case well, and will, I am sure, be happy to certify with me, if necessary, as to the truth of this wonder- ful cure. ( Signed) ANDREW BRACK. AMPUTATION OF Two TOES PREVENTED.— Extract of a Letter Irom Mr. Oliver Smith Jenkins, dated Falkirk, Angnst 13th, 1848. To PROFESSOR HOLLOWAY.— SIR,— I was superintending about six months ago, the erection of one of our Railway Bridges, and by the all of a large stone my right foot was seriously bruised, which ulti mately got so bad, that I was advised to go to Edinburgh to consult some of the eminent Surgeons, which I did, and was told that in order to save my foot, two ofmy toes must be taken oir. In despair, I returned home to impart the melancholy news to my wife, intending jto submit to the operation, it was then a thought struck me to try y our valuable Ointment and Pills, which I did, and was by their means in three weeks enabled to resume my usual occupation, and at this time my toes are perfectly cured. ( Signed) OLIVER SMITH JENKINS. AN EXTRAORDINARY CURE os- A DESPERATE SKIN DISEASE.— On the 21st. July, the Editor ofthe " Mofussilite" Novvsnaper published in India, inserted the following Editorial article in his paper. " We know for a fact, that Holloway's Pills and Ointment aci in a most wonderful manner upon Hie constitution, as an eccentric Coolie, called Eliza, employed in our Establishment, was affected with myriads of Ringworms, which defied all the Meeiut Doctors, and promised to devour the poor man before lie was nuclei- ground: we tried " Holloway" upon him, and in a month he was perfectly re- stored to his former condition and cleanliness of skin. The eficct was miraculous." The Pills should be usedconjointly with the Ointment in most of the following cases:— Bad Legs Ghiego- foot Fistulas Sore Nipples Bad Breasts Chilblains Gout Sore throats Burns Chapped hands GlandularSwel- Skin- diseases Bunions Corns ( Soft) lings Scurvy Bite of Mosche- Cancers Lumbago Sore- heads toes and Sand- Contracted and Piles Tumours flies Stiff- joints Rheumatism Ulcers Coco- Bay Elephantiasis Scalds Wounds- Yaws Sold by the Proprietor, 241, Strand, ( near Temple Bar,) London and by all respectable Vendors of Patent Medicines throughout the civilized World, in Pots and Boxes, Is. l£ d„ 2s. !) d., 4s. lid., lis., 22s., and 33s. each. There is a very considerable saving by taking the larger sizes. N. B.— Directions for the guidance of Patients arc affixed to each Pot and Box. Printed aud Published by the Proprietor, G. JOHNSTONE, 12, Iiusseii- court, Bridges- street, Strand. ' '