May be had complete in One Part, Price Two Shillings. TBY H. G. BROOKS,] Sent, per Post, by adding Six Postage Stamps. No. 56. Parts ], 2, 3, and 4, now ready. Specimen Copies, Half- price— Half- penny Each Part may be sent, per Post, by attaching Six Stamps; or sent, direct from the Office, for Eighteen Stamps PUBLISHED WEEKLY. Price Id.— per post 2d. For remote parts, Single Copies may be sent direct from the Office, for 2 Postage Stamps, or 26 Stamps per Quarter. CAPTAIN MACHEATH—" How happy could I be with either, Were t'other dear charmer away; But while you thus tease me together. To neither a word will I say." THE CHARMED LIFE; OR, THE REVELATIONS OF A POLICEMAN. BY AMBROSE HUDSON. ' Marian ! my wife !' 1 My husband!— believe not your eyes to my discredit. My kind lord, your wife— your Marian to whom you have so nobly acted will never do you wrong.' The lady Malvolio rose, and crossed to her dark lord, and threw herself upon his bosom. ' I can forgive you, sir,' said Malvolio. ' I remember your fea- tures. . You may show cause for pity, but you threw aside, your- self, the fair fruit that fell from the tree before you, and must abide the issue. I do not think, Master Clayton, you are deficient in reason, I should hope not in right feeling. If so, you must be sat- isfied your further presence can lead only to results the most pain- ful and decided. In the character of an acquaintance— even as a friend, it is quite clear you cannot confine yourself to the cold limits of respect. For your own sake, if you value your personal safety— though understand, I hold you out no threat— for her whom I doubt not, you still profess to love, retire, and never more,— or at least until time shall have cooled the fever of your blood, or sprin- kled your yet brown hair,— come not again within the shadows of this house, or any that contains the precious form of Marian Malvolio. I know her well, sir,— she is my wife, and though all husbands do not know the innermost hearts of their partners, that of mine lean read— she wishes you all health and honorable prosperity. The world, sir, would not, perhaps, feel all like me, but, I too wish you every happiness,— nay more, if wealth or influence can serve you, will forward all the views I may with honesty, so you retire now, and pledge me here your word, you never will disturb this flutter- ing innocent, who clings about my heart.' Gilbert Clayton had risen at the entrance of the nobleman, and stood listening to his every word without the smallest changc of ex- pression, on his usually expressive countenance. When, however, Malvolio had finished, and Marian made no further speech, but wept upon the bosom of the man 6he had chosen for her proteotor through the world, the young adventurer, addressing the husband, said in a distinct but subdued tone of voice— ' By your leave, I pray.' Malvolio bowed gravely and clasped his young wife closer to his breast, and one of her small white hands yet dangling by her side, while the other arm encircled the neck of the lord, Gilbert lifted her disengaged palm in all humility, and imprinted on it, one long fervent kiss. ' Farewell— it is my last! Farewell for ever— my beautiful— my lost one!' He had departed, and his fate I could not learn, but he again sought relief in foreign adventure, and I heard of him no more. Passionately did Malvolio kiss the brow of his young wife, as the walls of their gilded chamber dissolved in ether, and the clouds that had before intervened shut out the figures of the actors, to my sight. Soft music stole npon my senses and for a while I lay entranced, and then again I saw old Time, and he looked sadder than before, and the drop was in his eye as he gazed upon his hour- glass and seemed to count the sands that must run to make another day,— how many lives with every grain must fall, how many erring mor- tals stumble to account! Alas! would we but sometimes pause to think of this, when battling with the every day working world, wherein the acquisition of gold, and the jarring struggles of petty interests occupy the concentration of our best ideas and feelings, how much worthier might we live, how much happier might we die! Another year was numbered with the past, and on an easy couch drawn to the open window of a country Hall, that stood within its own grounds, lay Marian Malvolio. Changed indeed, since I first saw her in her father's house at Westminster, that over- looked the Thames! Then in the very bud of bursting womanhood, how pure, and fresh and ripening were her charms ! Again had I beheld her after three years wear, a wife, and though she lacked somewhat the show of pristine health which marked the girl, the dignity of the patrician wife, lost no beauty from the pallor of her cheek, and the slenderness of form, which gave to her figure the appearance of additional height. Now there was a sad alteration in the character of her loveliness. It had be- come more spiritual, and to look upon it would subdue entirely an earthly passion. Her hair was thrown back from her brow, and she lay there to inhale the breezes from the uplands. Her bright eyes looked larger and shone brighter, and her cheeks were sunken and as pale as marble, save where two pink spots were burning feverishly. Her T H E T O W N . lips like parted rose- leaves, fanned by the - wind, moved tremulously at the thought that flitted through her mind. The blue veins were plainly discernible in her brow and throat, and her transparent hand and attenuated form both told me that consumption there was fast completing its fell work. Marian Malvolio was dying. ' ./ ill he never comer' she murmured, softly. ' The express must have reached him long ere this. Would he not hasten to his wite ? Oh, yes, I know his noble heart to well for that, I never did him wrong but once, and he has forgiven me, for ' twas to make him happy, and now the end of that, and all, is tbe cold grave. Why are we not mistresses of our affections, why could I not give him an entire, undivided love— he was all in my poor mind of good- ness and of greatness too, why had he not my heart 1 1 tried— oh! how I tried! with all my soul to make it his, and yet— and yet— What 1 did I still love another? no, calmly, now death I know is near, I can with truth avouch to that exacting monitress, myself, that from tbe moment when I said ' 1 give thee here my hand, and promise thee to make a gentle, patient, and obedient wife,' I never dwelt upon another's image. If, sometimes, it forced itself into the presence of my mind, I called up his, who claimed me wife, and coward- like the first would fly. When years had gone, and he came again, and spoke to me of love, I did not heed him. Malvolio took me to his breast and blamed me not— yet spite of all how have I suffered! obeyed the wild dictates of an impulse, ran upon the rock of principle, and now'— she looked at her little hand, as she whis- pered lowly—' now a wreck, a little while I lie upon the waters. Will he never come ?' The western sky was gleaming with the gorgeous hues of the setting sun, and gradually the bright tints were receding from forest and glade, and the balmy airs of evening were playing over the wild flowers, and kissing the curls about the forehead of the Lady Malvolio. She had dismissed her attendants; alone, she was wait- ing there, the coming of her lord. Fainter and fainter, still she grew, and at last she had no power even to summon her waiting- maid. It was at this moment she beheld in the distance the white plume of a cavalier on horseback. ' He comes! he comes! I shall sec him once again,' she murmured, and the rider dashed up to the house. Impatiently he sprang from his foaming steed, and rushed into the Hall. ' Marian ! Marian, my beloved!' ' My husband, I am here!' With sudden strength she started to her feet and staggered across the floor. Malvolio was before her, and she threw herself into his arms. ' ' Tis as I wished to die,' she murmured, and the excitement and the effort cost her, her life. She had ruptured a small blood- vessel, which her weak state could not bear, though in health she might have combated with it. When Lord Malvolio kissed hetdamp forehead, and iaid her back upon the couch, the lamp of life had burnt its last, Marian was no THE TRICKS OF OUR TIMES. THE DISTRESS DODGE. A TALE OF TERROR. Like, when the nightmare attains its very height of horror, and by some suddenly violent effort we jerk off the foul impression, and wake again from our tortured sleep, so did I toss and struggle back to consciousness, and the men and things of the existing breathing world of my own age, as I had left it, ere I lay me down to look upon the past. I started up. Red Bertrand was at the foot of the couch, and the Baron Fradenheim was beside me. Motioning his attendant to retire, my protector sat down upon the couch. ' Have you not seen— do yon not believe— do you not pity me?' I looked at him intently, and shuddered at my proximity with one so cursed. Strange, that when I had seen both Captain Gran- ville and Admiral Franklin fall beneath his hand, 1 had not felt the same creeping chill at his approach, which now came over me. I regarded him doomed to bring evil on all with whom he came in contact, though I could not withhold from him my pity, as I read the issue of liis loves and his hates, and saw how '' t would ho h-. p- piness to die,' rather than form ten thousand new attachments but to see them end the same, and he a wretched wanderer in many lands! This then was the man who when our Saviour bore his cross to the place of a skull, called Golgotha, said mockingly to the Re- deemer who paused a little, ' Go on,' and Jesus, turning to him, cried,' go thou on, for ever!' I put my hand before my eyes to shut his presence from my sight, and I resolved to stay with him no longer. I said nothing then of my determination, and I had little difficulty afterwards in keepingit a profound secret, for whether Fradeubeim grew suspicious of me, after he had entrusted me, I know not, but he seldom allowed me to converse with any of the domestics or neighbours, or indeed to be long out of the presence of either Red Bertrand or him- self. It was about a month after the scenes of the study that I found the opportunity for which I had been most impatiently waiting. Early in the morning I thrust a letter under the bed- roum door of the Baron, thanking him most earnestly lor all his past kindness, s, and bidding him dismiss from his mind all fear of me for the future, as it was my intention at once to embrace that profession lor which I had long pined, the sea. Red Bertrand had started at day- break to a great wild boar- hunt some few leagues distant, and though I could not in his absence leave the castle by the usual means, I found no difficulty in dropping from the terrace into the moat; swimming which, it was easy to gain the opposite fosse and so escape. The Baron was still in bed, most of the retainers had accom- panied Bertrand to the chase, and I fortunately, was unobserved The sun was high in the heaven, and his bright beams fell on my face as I clambered the neighbourhood hill, and looked $ own upon the home that I had left behind. ( To be continued). True benevolence is confined to no class of society, and they who are in the habit of railing against the world as a heartless congregation of selfish souls, know not— because they most often wilfully close their eyes— how much the practice of charity is in this country exercised in secret. There are hundreds of thou- sands of pounds annually given away in private, towards the ame- lioration of real and assumed distresses, and statistical reports leave but little doubt that the latter very considerably prepon- derate. The late Queen Dowager who was certainly one of the truest hearted and mest benevolent of women, was more imposed upon, in proportion as her distributions were greater, than any other lady in the land. Entire gangs and whole families, lived from year to year upon her bounty, obtained in many names and under different pretexts. The systems now pursued by those who practice begging in its various branches, differ as much as the practitioners themselves. Even begging- letter imposture has its different grades, and the aristocracy of humbug is co- existant, with the aristocracy of birth and wealth. The plan of appealing ' To the Benevolent' through the medium of the daily Press, appears to be a very old ' dodge,' as we find from the ' Spectator,' it was tolerably successful in the days of Addison. Sheridan in his burlesque comedy of The Critic, speaks of it ( is a means of living adopted by one of his principal charac- ters— Mr. Puff— and amusingly exaggerates the details. That there are genuine ' Appeals' in the columns of The Times, there is little doubt front the high references occasionally appeiided, but the greater number of such advertisements are the productions of practised hands, who have tried the sympathy of the public for long years in different characters ; now a widow, then an orphan, then as a bereaved husband with five motherless children, and now again the bed- ridden relict of an officer, who died from wounds received in the service of his country. These impositions are seldom made public, partly because they are so cleverly concocted by the rogues themselves, but principally from the strong feelings of repugnance most people entertain at appearing as prosecutors in a criminal court. The begging- letter game is not so profitable as formerly, thanks to the exertions of the Mendicity Officers, and the publicity given to police reports; but that it still yields to the experienced, a rich harvest is manifest from the case, in which the Duke of Wellington lately figured as prosecutor. The prisoners who had plucked his Grace, together with an immense number of the nobility, on very many occasions, lived always in excellent style on the proceeds of their correspondence, and when taken into custody had in their possession several gold watches, no inconsiderable quantity of jewellery, and nearly seventy pounds in money. Lowest inthe scale of' distress dodgers,' are the rtf tistes of the streets. These again have their different standings amongst the class of which they are members, and at the Westminster, Rat- cliffe Highway, and other houses devoted to the cause, wherein young beggars are initiated into the mysteries of imposture by old ones, the broken- down tradesman, with crape on his hat, and Augers and thumbs protruding from the tips of his old gloves that cling about the box of lucifer matches which he so modestly ex- tracts from his coat- tail pocket, takes precedence of the sailor who ' vos blown hup in the hair from the busting hov a bilerjust horf Sunderland— honly look at his harm.' The London streets are supposed to yield on an average to every street singer, one penny each street ; sixty streets are con- sidered a fair days work, thus bringing each such vagabond five shillings a day, or thirty shillings a week, setting sundays aside. We shall return to this subject in a future number. ( To be continued.) I am a Frenchman, and was once travelling in Calabria; a land of wicked people, who, I believe, hate every one, and particularly the French ; the reason why, would take long to tell, suffice it to say that they mortally hate us, and that one gets on very badly when one falls into their hands. I had a companion a young man with a face— my faith, such an ugly dog— I don't say so to interest you, but because it is a fact. In these mountains the roads are precipices; our horses got on with much difficulty; my companion went first; a path which appeared to him shorter and more practicable led us astray. It was my fault. Ought I to have trusted to a head only twenty years old? Whilst daylightlasted we tried to find our way through the wood but the more we tried, the more bewildered we became, and it was pitch dark when we arrived at a very black looking house. We en- tered, not without fear, but what could we do? We found a whole family of colliers at table; they immediately invited us to join them; my young man did not wait to be pressed: there we were eating and drinking; he at least, for I was examining the place and the appearance of our hosts. They had quite the look of colliers, but the house you would have taken for an arsenal; there was nothing hut guns, p stols, swords, knives and cutlasses. Every thing displeased me, ami I saw very well that I displeased them. My companion, on the contrary, was quite one of the family, he laughed and talked with them, and with an imprudence that I ought to have forseen ( but to what purpose, if it was de- creed), he told at once where we came from, where we wero going, and that we were Frenchmen. Just imagine! amongst! our most mortal enemies, alone, out of our of road, so far from all human succour! and then, to omit nothing that might ruin us, he played the rich man, promised to give the next morning, as a enumeration to these peopie, and to our gui les, whatever they wished. Then he spoke of his port- manteau, begging them to take care of it, and to put it at the head of his bed; he did not wish, he said, for auy other pillow. Oh, youth, youth ! you are to be pitied! One would have thought we carried the crown diamonds. What caused him so much solici- tude about his portmanteau was his mistress's letters. Supper over, they left us. Our hosts slept below, we in the upper room, where we had supped. A loft raised some seven or eight feet, which was reached by a ladder, was the resting place that awaited us; a sort of nest, into which we were to introduce ourselves by creeping under joists loaded with provisions for tbe year. My companion climbed up alone, and, already nearly asleep, laid himself down with his head upon the precious portmanteau. Having determined to sit up, I made a good fire, and seated myself by the side of it. The night, which had been undisturbed, was nearly over, and I be" an to reassure myself; when, ubout the time that I thought the break of day could not be very far off, I heard our host and his wife talking and disputing below ; and putting my ear to the A LADY'S ARTICLE. THE INDUSTRY OF ALL NATIONS. The great, gathering of 1851 is not specifically appointed to in- clude living productions, but we have, nevertheless, heard of a few that will most assuredly present themselves. The French will contribute a good sprinkling of their chevaliers dindustrie, and the rural districts of England will send up their lull quota of raw material to be dealt with or done— as raw material is generally doomed to be. We may, perhaps, be excused for suggesting a few animated subjects that might be added to the exhibition without fear of overcrowding, as the specimens of the articles we are about to name would be limited by their exceeding rarity. A man born with a silver spoon iu his mouth. A ditto made of nine tailors. A ditto who has dined w. th DUKE HUMPHREY. A govornesi who has been willing to accept, instead of remu- neration, a comfortable home, and who has found the consider- ation realised. A young p entleman who has been liberally boarded and well educated for Ifi guineas per annum. Somebody who has found something to his advantage after having heard it from JOSEPH ADY. The laughing eye with the light in it. A man with all his bes,. feelings possessing him. ONE OF THE FAITHFUL. A Quaker lady says there are three things I vory much wonder at, the first is that tue children should be so foolish as to threw up stoues, brickbats, and clubs, into fruit trees, to knock down the fruit; if they would let it alone, it would fall itself. The second is, that men should be so foolish, and eveu so wicked, as to go to war and kill one another; if they would let one another alone, they would die of themselves. And the last thing I won- der at most of all is, that of young women ; if they would stay at home the young men would cotne after them. It was in the summer time, a good many years ago— I am not going to say how many, because that's nobody's business, and I hate talking of dates— that a whole party of us were invited to spend a musical afternoon and evening, at the house of some very nicei people who lived at Hammersmith. Tliere were no three- penny steamboats then, and we would'nt go in a nasty omnibus, so we agreed to hire a nice large fly, and if there wasn't room, why we could sit in one another's laps— that was all. There was ma, and Jane, and young Truggles, and the doctor, and the three little girls, and my cousin Charley Wag- staffe, and myself. Such squeezing and fun you never saw, for the fly was a little one after all, and the door was so narrow, that after they'd got inside except ma, and me, and Charley, ma's something— she had— behind, was so exceedingly broad, that it stuck in the door- way, and wouldn't go on, or come back till— and really now, if I wasn't writing for a u ce proper sort of work like THF. TOWN, I should quite blush when I say it— Charley went and pushed his two hands flat up against it— whatever it was— and lifting it a little, first one side and then the other, jog- gled it in. Well, when we got in, too, if you could only have seen ma's face— but, never mind. There wasn't room enough of course, so as I w « s obliged to sit upon somebody's knee, what does that wicked Charley do, but pull me right into his lap, just as I knew it would be, when I first proposed having the fly at all. Ma looked a littie cross, I do believe, but it was quite clear she could not have sat where 1 did, or else, poor fellow !— but it is of no consequence. Well, as I was saying, there we were, just as comfortable as could be, laughing and joking nil round, and I, asking Charley if I hurt him— which I know I didn't, b cause I'm as soft and plump a thing as you would wish under my clothes— that is I mean— you know. All of a sudden, dear me ! I couldn't tell what it was for the liftf of me— something did so hurt me, where I was sitting. Oh! Charley,' says I— but I didn't speak out loud—' what- ever is that ?' ' H. tsh! Jenny,' says he,' it is my German flute.' Goodness gracious! you can't think what a turn it gave me, because 1 didn't know he was musical. To be sure I couldn't make a fu s, but I thought he oughtn't to carry it in his front pockets, and so I told hiiu. Oh ! what a delightful afternoon we did have to be sure, only there was I, teaming Charley to Dull out his German flute before them all, and astonish them at once, with what he could do, but he said he was t. o bashful for that, and he would rather I saw an exhibition of his powers, if he must, make one, by himself. I wasn't going to let him alone, when ne once promised me, though it was quite evening before I could get him to do it, and almost dark. It wasn't at all the sort of thing I expected to see, but I took it in my hand, and it certainly was one of the handsomest flutes I could have imagined. I wouldn't let him go in doors with it then, for I did not care about his producing a general excite- ment. When night came, we went home again after a very pleasant time, in the same way as we cime— that is very nearly, only Charley must have put his flute somewhere else, for I didn't feel it going home, though I can truly say I've never forgotten it to this hour. chimney which communicated with the one in the lower room I perfectly distinguished these words spoken by the husband: ' Well, let us see, must they both be killed?' To which the wife replied' ' Yes;' and I heard no more. How shall I go on? I stood scarcely breathing, mv body cold as marble ; to have seen me, you could hardly have known if I were alive or dead. Good Heavens! when I think of it now !— We two almost without weapons, against twelve or fifteen who had so many! and my companion dead with sleep and fatigue ! To call him, or make a noise, I dared not: to escape alone was impossible • the window was high, but below were two large dogs howling like' wolves. In what an agony I was, imagine if you can. At the end of a long quarter of an hour I heard some one on the stairs, and, through the crack of the door, I saw the father, his lamp in one hand, and in the other one of his large knives. He came up, his wife after him, I was behind the door; he opened it, but before he came in he put down the lamp which his I wife took. He then entered, barefoot, and from outside, the woman said to him, in a low voice, shading the light of the lamp with her hand, 4 Softly, go softly.' When he got to the ladder, he mounted it, his knife between his teeth, and getting up as hieh as the bed — the poor young man lying with his throat bare— with one hand he took his knife, and with the other Oh! ah!— he seized a ham, which hung from tbe ceiling, cut a slice from it, and retired as he had come. The door was closed again, the lamp disappeared, and I was left alone with my reflections. As soon as the day appeared, all the family making a great noise came to awaken us as we had requested. They brought us something to eat, and gave us a very clean and a very good break- fast, I assure you. Two capons formed part of it, of which we must, said our hostess, take away one and eat the other. When I saw them I understood the meaning of those terrible words ' Must they both be killed?' and I think, there is little doubt, you,' reader, have enough penetration to guess now what they signified. SHORT AND BLUNT. Lady. In the name of goodness where did I ever get this nose from, Doctor ? Dooctr. Out of the decanter, ma'am. AMATORY DIALOGUE. John. Susan, my darling, you will never drive me forth such a miserable night as this ? Susan. Oh ! but I must John. John. Not so, darling: let some pity dwell in your remorseless bosuin, and save me iroul the pelting of the storm. Never talk of making up a bed, my bright- eyed one, when I may share yours my Susan, for oh ! duck o' dumplings! are we not to be married in a week? Susan. Indeed, I shall do nothing of the sort, Mr. John I know well enough you wouldn't marry me at all then, you wicked man you. I have been played that trick before, and I ain't going to be caught so again, I can tell you! On hearing the unloosed for acknowledgement, John gives a. loud whistle, and enquiring for his hat, thinks it will he fine enough to walk home after all) A CLEVER DODGE. A few days ago an emissary of the law had an execution against the body of a certain J. P., residing in a neighbouring county, and whom it was considered as difficult to serve with a ' blue fly,' or, in other words, a writ, to obtain entrance into his domicile, as it would be to gain admittance into the well- guarded harem of a Sultan. Pat, however, was determined not to be outdone, and he considered for a while if the law would take any hoult on him if he took one of his honour's eows. He resolved at once to take the cow, and in the midule of the day he walked into the domain and drove away the fattest he could get. He had not gone far when two ' Peelers' met him, and suspecting the cow was stolen, made prisoner of the bailiff and brought him before his worship. An introduction to his justiceship was all t, he limb of the law re- quired, and on the magistrate having made out his commitment to the county gaol for cow fteuliu^, Pat, pulling out of his coat pocket a warrant, said, will, a laugh,' Faiib, an' if I go to gaol, yer honour will have to come with me,' aud ihun called npon the police to aid in the arres,. The bailiff then acc inpanied the J. P. to the county prison. WHAT THINGS HAVE COME TO. Mesdames Brown Jones, and Robinson, have been confined with the prevailing epidemic. Really so many ladies have gone to bed with the influenza, that we must protest against the im- morality of this fashionable nuisance, which is so prevailing with the weak that it is making sad inroads into self- styled ' moral England.' A conceited fellow, who fancied himself a poet, asked Nat Lee, if it was not easy to write like a madman, as he did ? ' No,' an- swered Nat,' but it is easy to write like a fool,. as you do.' T H E TOWN. RECOLLECTIONS OF A RAKE; OK, MY ADVENTURES BETWEEN FIFTEEN AND TWENTY. ( Continued.) For some time after Tfhcebe's marriage I was a constant visitor at her house, and being l; er husband's friend as well as hcr's— or more properly speaking to suit my purposes appearing to be so— I fear my actions were not of so honourable a nature as they might have been. But the ' foreman,' whose eyes had been closed quite long enough, now began to ' sm< 11 a rat,' and after keeping his thoughts hidden in his own breast for some considerable time— no doubt till he had discovered proof of his suspicions— he candidly in- formed me, that my visits were too often for his likintr, and de- sired me not to come again, coupling it with tgte. remark, that if I did ' it wouldn't be good for my health,' an$ ' I mieht go out quicker than I came in.' Without, allowing myself to be in the least disturbed, I calmly asked the reason of his strange en- nouncement. ' Nothing pertickler,' he replied,' but the loner and the short of the matter is this, I don't intend to have a parcel of boys like you running after my wife ; and as for her— the slut!— she shall go ' bag and baggage' if I find— and I have great suspicions of it— that you have performed more of my duties than I seem to care about.' I indignantly repelled the assertion, and Phoebe, who was present not knowing what better to do, uttered a loud shriek and forthwith went into hysterics. I expostulated with him, and bade him behold the beauteous being at bis feet, who, for aught he knew, mtjjht now bo in the convulsive agonies of death I & c & c. He stopped me in the midst of this elegant panecyri,?— for,' blow ljjs <; ye%,' 86en enough of that humbug, and ' sl, o, pe' hai^ better be the word with me, as such a thing as his foot might be violently thrust against a part, of my person I should by no means like. ' Slope,' I did, but in as condescending a manner a possible. I wisely forbore afterwards faking my appearance within his reach, and though I now and then managed interviews with Phcebe they were something a ' cut above' angels visits, which, indeed, must have been ' few and far between,' if they equalled Ours. Tnrown on my own resources again for a mistress, and not carintc' one lash of a mouse's tail' for one, unless in obtaining her I should meet with adventure and the accompanying excite- ment, and n t being able to find anything better to employ my leisure hours by night, Fred and I commenced that highly intel- lectual and instructive amusement of' Knocker Wrenching,' and felt a pleasure in raising the cuticle of our hands into innumer- able small blisters by such practices. At first we regarded ' all as fish that came to our net,' till get- ting more ' au fait' in our accomplishment we disdained every other than brass ones, as they made the greatest show in or- namenting our rooms ; at last we became the talk of the Town. Rewards were offered, policeman prowled about dark corners and all of a sudden pounced upon nothing, and felt surprised it had eluded their grasp. Magistrates met in council, and unani- mously agreed that when the culprits were found they shi uld feel the weight of the law made still more dreadful by their ad- ministration ; but as yet we worked more systematically than they did, and defied magistrates, rewards, and police- What was to be done? More councils were called, more rewards offered, policemen discharged for allowing such doings on their beats, and men who knew less, and did less, put into their places. Still we eluded them, and though every one of us was suspected, and our names recorded in the Black Book of the Town, none were as yet detected in the act till a most outrageous affair put a stop to the whole. With confidence in our repeated escapes, we disdained mere ' Knocker Wrenching,' and longed for greater doings. A proposition was made that two parties should be formed on a given night, to see who would perform the most adventurous and bare- faced actions, and they who did the least should stand a champagne supper. Our party consisting of six, included Jack, Fred, and myself. We were, of course, the leaders. The other party exceeded us in number by one, and was headed by a young fellow well known in the Town, called ' Bob.' Neither party was to be told the other's plans, and for some nights before the appointed one, we concocted our arrangements in solemn council. At last the evenltul night arrived. As it happened, it was pitch dark, with a dense fog hanging over the whole place. Thus far the elements had conspired together in our favor, and as the clock chimed the half- hour after midnight, we sallied forth. Strapped round my waist I had a fl> it tin containing white paint. Fred had one similar, but containing a mixture of red ochre. Brushes and ropes were carried by the rest, but everything was hidden from sight by our coats. We walked on in silence for some distance, until we came to a shop where lived a hatter, who made known his trade by hanging above his shop a ponderous tin hat. This we saw and knew. ' Halt,' I cried. The hat was merely pointed at, and Fred taking a rope in his hand dexterously threw it across the hatter's sign, and all of us giving ' a long pull and a strong pull altogether,' down it came at once. ' Quick march,' was the word, and away we went, tile bat carried betwixt two of our company. We did not stop till we arrived at a fine bronze collossal statue— situated in an open space— of the founder of the Town, and it being an exceedingly dark night there was not much fear of discovery if we were quiet. ' Now then, boys, up with me,' I whispered, and X was lifted by them, and with climbing and clambering, succeeded in seating myself on the shoulder of the statue. Fred followed, and perched himself on one ot the thighs, supporting himself by the drapery which was certainly very scanty. Brushes and paint being handed, we went 10 work, one with white, the other with re d. First the gentleman was dignified with a red spot covering liis eye and part of the cheek, then by way of cont. rastbe must needs have a white nose, lor his hair, we thought led would be most ap- propriate, and made it so accordingly. His body I at first made virgin white, but that not suiting Fred's artistic taste, he improved it by beautifully tattooing it with the ochre. One beautiful hieroglyphic being painted on his breast, representing a perpendicular surmoui^ d by a horizontal line, and which by boys is supposed to be a gallows ; suSpended from the end of the horizontal was seen a certain figure, consisting of two principal parts, the first small, in the shape of a " ring aud containing four dots, the second considerably larger than the first and of an oval shape, from the sides and the bottom of which stuck out two straight lines. Altogether, this I must inform my readers is fabulously supposed to represent a man hanging. This embellishment finished, the tin was lifted up to us by our com- panions below, aud with it, we decorated the head of the gentle- man, already so highly ornamented. Thinking we had done enough we walked away to finish our remaning projects and not intending to make any more use of our paint and brushes we left them as trophies at the loot of the statue. We inarched on until we came to an empty house, but on either side the residences were all inhabited. This house was undergoing repair iina the ladder and scaffolding were resting against it. Having looked cautio isly around and seen no one, we proceeded to cut away the rope that held the plank, which is generally laid on the ladder, to prevent any ascent during the night. That obstacle removed, we ascended the ladder, and five ol our number were shortly ou the roof of the house ; the lemaining one being left to give au alarm if the police made their appearance. From our pockets we now took a number of crackers. These as quietly as possible were lighted, and thrown down the chimneys into whatever rooms tbey might lead. Whiz— bang— bang— whiz they went, the noise considerably drowned from being enclosed by brick walls, but still sufficiently distinct for us to hear it in the stillness of the night. In a few seconds, and before we could reach the ground, loud shrieks were heard, the windows of the houses were thrown open where we had thrown down the crackers, and ' murder, fire, thieves,' screamed by the inmates. The springing of the policemen's rattles was heard on every side, and a scene of tremendous confusion ensued. We ran for our lives, but were seen and recognised by the police, and chase was given in every direction. THE FOUNDLING OF SHOREDITCH. A True Story from the Times. Come all ye Christian people, and listen to my tail, It is all about a docter was travelling by the rail, By the Heastern Counties Rail vay ( vich the shares I don't desire), From Ixworth Town, in Suffolk, vich his name did not transpire. A travelling from Bury this Docter was employed, With a gentleman, a friend of his, vich his name was captain Loyd; And on reaching Marks Tey station, that is uext beyond Colchest- Er, a lady entered iuto them most elegantly, dressed. She entered into the carriage all with a toteriog step, And a pooty little bayby upon her bussum slep ; The gentlemen received her with kindness a id' slwillatv, Pitying this lady for her illness and debiliaty. When at Shorediteh tummiqus at le. uath stopped the ' rain, This kind meddicle gentleman proposed his aid again. ' Thank you, Sir,' the lady said, ' for your kyiudness deal',' ' My carriage and my osses is probbibly come here.' ' Will you old this baby, pW « e, yilst I step and see ?' The Docter was a family mau : ' That I will/ says he. Then the little child he kist, kist it, very gently, Vich was sucking his little fist, sleeping innocently. With a sigh from her art, as though she would have bust it, Theu she gave the docter the child— wery kind he nust it: Hup then the lady jumped hoff the bench she sate from, Tumbled down the carriage steps and run along the platform. Vile hall the other passenners vent upon their vays, The Captain and the docter sate there in a maze; Never, never, back again did that lady come To that pooty sleeping Hinl'ant a suckin of his thum ! What could this pore Docter do, bein treated thus, When the darling baby woke, cryin for its nuss? Off he drove to a female friend, vich she was both kind and mild And igsplained to her the circumstance of this year little child. ' That kind lady took the child instantly in her lap, And made it very comfortable by giving it some pap; And when she took its close off, what d'you think she found? A couple of ten pun notes sewn up in its little gownd ! Also in its little close was a note which did conwey, That this little baby's parents lived in a handsome way : And for its Headucatiou they reglarly would pay, And certingly like gentlefolks would claim the child one day. If the Christian people wbo'd charge of it would say, Per advertisement in The Times, where the baby lay. Pity of this bayby many people took, It had such pooty ways and such a pooty look ; And there came a lady forrad ( I wish that I could see Any kind lady as would do as much for me : And I wish with all my art, some night in my night gownd I could find a note sticthed for ten or twenty pound)— There came a lady forrad that most honorable did say, She'd adopt this little baby, which her parents cast away. Lost in apoplexity, this poor meddicle man, Like a sensable gentleman, to the Justice ran ; Which his name was Mr. Hammill, a honourable beak, That takes his seat in Worship- street four times a week. ' I've come up from the country to know how I'll dispose ' Of this pore little baby, aud the twenty pun note, and the clothes, ' And I want to go back to Suffolk, dear Justice, if you please, ' And my patients wants their Doctor and their Doctor wants his feez.' Up spoke Mr. Hammill, sitting at his desk, ' This year application does me much perplex ; ' What I do advise you is to leave this babby ' In the parish where it was left by its mother shabby.' The Docter from his Worship sadly did depart— He might have left the baby, but he hadn't got the heart, To go for to leave that Hinnoceut, has the laws allows, To the tender mussies of the Union House. Mother, who left this littlo one on a stranger's knee, Think how cruel yon have been, and how good was he! Think, if you've been guilty, innocent was she ; And do not take unkindly this little word of me ; Heaven be merciful to us all, sinners as we be ! CLEVER TRICK. Early one morning about a fortnight since, a boat was rowed under the Hoe, when the crew hoisted out a chest not unlike one of those ' last mansions of mortality,' yclept coffins. Siome of them proceeded with it, towards the town when a bystander— and rumour states attired not unlike a preventive man— was asked, ' Which is the way to the b rying- grouud in Westwell Street'." The bystander, like the Quaker, answered the question by asking another,' What have yo,. got there ?' The reply was, ' Oh, one of our shipmates is gone off, and we are going to bury him !' The road to tho burying- ground was pointed out ; but, by a dodge, the chest was takeo to the railway station in time for the early train, and in a few brief hoars the chest was ' far north.' Those who laugh the most at the hoax say the chest was full of cigars— aye, real havannahs ! DOCTORS ON THE BORDER. When the Great Unknown was at one time travelling in North- umberland, his servant was taken ill, and the village surgeon sent for ; when this personage made his appearance, he was at once recognised as a quondam horse doctor in Melrose, whose sole qual- ification to cure ihe ills which human flesh is heir to, consisted in his having crossed the Border. When rated by Sir Walter for his presumption, he coniessed that Ue had killed a good many of his patients, but added, ' Ay, sir, but it'll be lang before it mak's up tor Flodden.' We have been reminded oft . is anecdote by an occurrence which took place the other day in a p. rish not very far distant from Dumfries. A medical man was called in to see a young girl, and, as is often necessary, h. id to inform the mother that advice ought, to have been previously obtained. ' Aye,' said dame, ' but we have had advice; we sent, for . ye'll may- be ken him, he works at the quarries; an' he bleit the lassie.' GOLDEN HINT TO TRAVELLERS. The best Letters of introduction, and the best Letters of credit to travel with, are decidedly £ s. d. SGRAPS FROM THE DIARY OF A POLICEMAN. PICKED UP IN BLOOMSBURT- SQUARE. MONDAY NIGHT.— On duty in Gower- street. Went on at nine. At eleven, saw a couple of swells at the corner of Bedford- square, ringing bells, wrenching off knockers, & c. Took them into custody. When about to lug them off to the station- house, they each dropped a crown, and while I was stooping to pick up the crown, they bolted. At twelve, saw little Sarah, at No. 8, looking through the area railings, shook hands and kissed her; she handed out a stunning piece of bread and beef, and a minute after fetched up a mug of ale • tossed this off, and returned to my beat. Met the sergeant, reported all right. At half- past one, saw four persons come out from the King's Head in street; tapped at the door to let the landlord know I'd caught him. He rather bounceable, but after a hint about Bow- street, and licensing- day, he dropped a bob, and a stunning glass of hot brandy and water, all right, shall say nothing this time. At two, met the sergeant; all right again. It now began to rain fast, and blow devilish cold. Walked to No. 26, fotmd Marv the fat cook was not gone to bed. Gave her the signal, and was let in to her front kitchen. Asked if she'd anything m the larder. Pro- duced half a veal pie. Didn't much like this; however, walked into some of it, and stowed the remainder in my pockets; do for dinner to- morrow. Polly a very nice girl, fat and fresh, amazingly fond of kissing. Promised to take her to Sadler's Wells when off night duty— wish she may get it— nothing to drink but table beer; would n't touch it. Finished my frolic with Polly, and made my exit quietly. Met the sergeant at four, again all right. At six off duty • went home and turned in. ' TUESDAY NIGHT.— Again in Gower- street, at twelve, found a gent, dead drunk on a door step— nobody near— searched him found half a sovereign, two bob, and a pencil case; returned the case and two bob to his pocket, and locked him up to get sober in the cell. At, one, saw pretty Sally, at No. & again, nice little dear this, but couldn't take me in to- night; ran and feiched a mug of ale and some cold mutton. Should have preferred the hot in the kitchen; but the little devil was afraid Fanny would split. Twigg'd the sergeant coming, pocketed the scran and walked off. At three, found a man and worn in in Bedford- square doing the amatory. Walked tbem off to the station. When searched they hadn't a mag; locked them up and returned to my beat. At four picked up a little short, ugly fellow, very drunk and floundering about in the gutter. He begged hard to be let go;' but as he had no money, I lugg'd him off to the station. When asked if he could find bail, he said he hadn't a friend in the world but his wife, and she was penniless. Poor wretch, locked him up. At six off duty. At eleven, morning, went to Bow- street with my prisoners. My first case was Mr. Tibbs; drunk and incapable. I produced the pencil case and two hob; he swore he had half a sovereign. I swore he hadn't. Fined five shillings, and locked up till paid. Second case— man and woman. I swore to indelicate, & c com- mitted for a month to hard labour. Third case— Mr. Podgers the the ugly little fellow, made a long rambling apology ior beim* drunk; said that he had been robbed of twelve and seven- pence by a prostitute, and hadn't a farthing in the world to pay the fine Refused his address. Seven days hard labour. Hope it may do him good, poor devil. The M. S. is here much torn and almost illegible. A COLUMN FOR EVERYBODY ( ORIGINAL AND SELECT). NEW DEFINITIONS TO OLD EXPRESSIONS. Aristocrat.— One who considers the respectability of hisgrand- fatl. er sufficient payment for his own debts. Abstemious Man.— Ooe who never tastes wine nor spirits at home. Apprentice— A lad learning, by experience, the tyranny ne- cessary to make him a master. Balance of Power.— Common sense. Laws.— Aatnority for publicly whipping the wicked poor. Nuisance.— The disturbances caused by your neighbour in making ins fortune. Oversight — To leave your old umbrella in a news- room, and bring aw. iy a new one. Precocity.— The impertinence of your child. Remorse.— The feelings of a pickpocket, caught in the fact. Unfortunate Man.— One born with a conscience. young Man's Best Companion.— He who takes him home wlieu he cannot take hiuiseit liome. ' NOW READY.' Ready Money 1 One of the greatest difficulties of life is that Ready Money I It never is ready when you want it! It is like a woman who says she is ' perfectly ready,' and then runs up stairs to get her gloves, or handkerchief, or card- case, or some- thing. You wait ten miuutes, half- an- hour, till at last, tired of waiting, you go withont her. So it is with Ready Money ! I have waited for it so long— all my life I may say— that now I go without it.— Young Rapid, at present on a visit to the Queen's Bench. THE LOVELY SEX VINDICATED. We see a book advertised under the extraordinary title of ' WOMAN IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.' We hope this is a satisfactory relutation of the absurd fallacy that no woman ever lives beyond the age of forty ! THE LAST JOKE. When Rabelais, the greatest droll in France, lay on his death- bed, he could not help jesting at the very last moment; for, hav- ing received the extreme unction, a friend coming to see him, said he hoped he was prepared for the next world. ' Yes, yes,' replied Rabelais,' I atn ready for my journey now, they have just greased my boots.' ANOTHER. Sir Thomas More, who preserved his humour and wit to the last moment, wjien he came to be executed on Tower Hill, the headsman demanded his upper garment as his fee. ' Ah! friend,' said he, taking ofl' ois cap, ' that, I think, is my upper garment.' A HINT FOR THE FUBLISHERS- As the publishing season will soon be in full play— which means that there will be plenty of work— we suggest tiie follow- ing as titles of books, to succeed the publication of ' People 1 have Met,' by an American :— ' People I have Taken into Custody,' by a Policeman. ' People that have Met me Half- way,' by an Insolvent. ' People I have Splashed,' by a Scavenger. ' People I have Done,' by a Jew Bill- Discounter. ' People I have Abused,' by a ' Bus Conductor. ' People t have Run Over,' by a Butcher's Boy. ' People f have Run Against,' by a Sweep. A GRAIN of impudence will fetch more in the market than a sackful of modesty. Honesty is the most profitable policy in the long run; but there are thousands of exceptions to this rule. Do good whenever you can ; avuid as much as possible speaking of it and ever remember ' Self- praise is no recommendation.' % T H E TOWN HOW MRS. BOB SPARKISH CURED HER SECOND FLOOR FRONT. BY AMBROSE HUDSON. A very desirable woman was Mrs. Bob Sparkish. A bit of a flirt, perhaps, but very demure withal, black- eyed and pretty, and ( juietly mischievous. Mrs. Bob Sparkish might have been Ave, or six- and- twenty, but that was between herself and her register; be that as it may— she was the smartest, as she was the best of landladies X ever knew. At the time I introduce her, her house in Gerrard Street, Soho, was full of all sorts of people— people so opposite in character and pursuits, that their ways and adventures might have been taken as an epitome of the world, and the history of the incidents and passions of that house would have formed a novel of them- selves. In the parlours lived a lady of somewhat mysterious habits, who said she was secretly married to a clergyman who came to see her twice a week, and always left two sovereigns on the man- tel- piece. Yet Mrs. Smith was very quiet— except when there was a Bat Manque, and then she had a habit of going out at sup- per- time anu coming home to breakfast— gave very little trouble, wore a wedding- ring, paid ready money for everything, and never disputed an account. What more could the most fastidious land- lady require? On the first floor dwelt a lady and gentleman, who lived inveyr ( rood style, and wrote a great many letters to the nobility, and always had the answers sent to the Post Office, and in the second floor font lived Jack Weatherby, a clerk in the city, with whom we have most to do. Now Jack was rather an amorous temper- ament, and admired his landlady as much, reader, as you and I do. When he paid his weekly rent, he made a point of giving it her himself, and sometimes squeezed the tips of her fingers as he popped it into her hand. It was her half laugh, the toss ot her head, the glance of her eye, and the twist of her fair form on these occasions that emboldened Mr. Jack to further advances. The landlady slept usually on the same floor as Jack, and Mr. Boh Sparkish who was considered a sort of nobody in particular, with u taste for late hours, usually lot himself in with a latch- key, and left his boots on the street- door mat, between three and four in the morning. Now Jack knew this, and took a base advantage of the fact that his landlady left her bed- room door unlocked for her husband, and one night, about twelve o'clock, bolted into her dormitory, sans culotte, and began to make desperate— not to say forcible— love to pretty Mrs. Bob. Our lady fair thought this was going rather too far, and sitting up in bed remonstrated seriously with the intruder. Jack was not thus to be put off, and making a rush at her lips in the dark, kissed her forthwith. ' Good gracious 1 my husband !' cried the landlady. • The devil!' exclaimed the lodger. ' Coming up stairs,' continued Mrs. Bob. ' When shall I be happy ?' whispered the lodger. ' To- morrow,' answered the landlady. Jack Weatherby was off like a shot— and Mrs. Bob Sparkish was out of bed like another, and the door was locked in a phe- nomenon which 1 should like much to see— called the twinkling of a bed- post. The landlady explained the latter circumstance to her husband on the principle of thieves. Impatiently, Jack Weatherby waited for twelve o'clock the next night, and agreeably to his anticipations found the lady's door open. • Who's that ?' was murmured in feminine accents. • Only me, love,' replied Jack, as he jumped into bed and clasped his inamorata. ' Ah! ugh 1' went the lady in a scream, while Jack tried to quiet her fears with all his might. Suddenly a step was heard on the stairs, a light was discerned, and the next moment flannel petticoat over her head, and flat candlestick in her hand, entered — Mrs. Bob Sparkish the landlady 1 Jack Weatherby WBS discovered in bed, in the act of cuddling a black woman! The color fled his cheeks, his jaws dropped, his eyes started, and wholly regardless of the expose, he sprung from under the bed clothes, and his short shirt fluttering in the draught, made a hurried escape to his own bed- room. Few words explain the story, Mrs. Bob Sparkish's second floor back had been hired by the nigger lady from the Mauritius, for the landlady only slept in it when it was unlet. Now not caring for the black lady much as a tenant, and thinking it would be a good prank to play Mr. Jack Weatherby, and at the same time let iiim kuow his advances were not desired, she concocted the little plot we have seen developed. It fully produced the intended effect as far as Jack was con- cerned ; not so with the nigger lady, who did not resign her quarters in consequence of the little contre- temps, for as she said to Mrs. Bob Sparkish when the fuss was over— ' My good soul, if I had known the young man did not want to rob and murder, I would not have screamed out upon any ac- count ; in fact I would have lain perfectly still, and would rather have suffered almost anything than brought you down in the cold.' iEotiiea to ffiomgponiients. OUR BIRMINGHAM FRIEND, is advised not to buy a pig in a poke in future, as the enly mode of preventing the consequences he relates. We are obliged to him for his polite wishes, & c. YANKEE DOODLE.— Wal, gude grashus, you air a tairnashun strange chap, and that's no mistakin on. You may butter us a few, jist grease us slick, and we don't mind an alligator's sneeze about it, but we aint going to be squeeged into flat pancakes by New York chyaff, and we wish we may be darned if it don't tyake more to rise our dander, than the insane, thunder and lightning kickings of a Yankee Jackass. X. L.— To be sure we agree with you. You ought to have known us better than to doubt it for a moment. We always take the straight forward manly course. In such cases there is but one. CATHERINE had better make an appointment. Tbe Editor will ba happy to give her, personally and in confluence, the information she desires. THEATRICUS.— We cannot advise you to make the stage a profession, even if you have considerably more than the average share of talent. There is only one other pursuit as precarious— authorship. ABEL.— Yes, it is a fact, and occurred near Ashford, in Kent. The tinker wished his child to be christened Hannah Maria, but the parson replied" • Pooh, pooh ! people in your sphere calling a child Hannah Maria, stuff I baptise thee Joan.' This son of the church very properly lost his Jiving. DELTA.— Go on and prosper. We wish you all success. F. M. S. ( Norwich)— The M S. submitted is not up to the mark. Try again. FANNY.— We would not be hard, for the world, to one of your sex ; in fact, we could not if we tried, but we are compelled to state if you had not re- garded the rascal when he whispered, 4 Listen, dear Fanny,' the result complained of, would not have occurred. Any paremal advice that we can give you, Fanny dear, is always at your service. J. J.— Yes; five shillings of postage stamps. CURRY.— We are sorry that our Editorial pen has given you offence. We did not wield it in your case for the mere sake of being critical. Com- position is like everything else of the kind. A good or even practical style is only obtained by imitation, and long use. The art of writing for the press is not acquired in a day or month ; it you doubt it, concoct a paragraph on a given subject and compare it when done with a reporter's account of the same in a newspaper. Can you oblige us by sending earlier in tho week ? TOM J.— Declined with thanks. A. B. C.— W ill see that we have complied with his desire as far as we were warranted. CARLISLE.— The poetry is familiar to us, but at the moment we know not where we have before seen it. Will our correspondent assist our memory 1 ALPHA DELTA ( Oxford).— We had hoped to hear from you before this. NEMO.— Ask the lady yourself. Who do you take us for that we should do your dirty work ? P. S.— The publication in question, is dead, and the editor and part proprietor NON EST INVENTUS. LUNELLE.- We certainly give our opinion and advice on a great many ques- tions ; but we cannot undertake to recommend lodgings, or look out for any by the time you visit the metropolis. We should like your idea of the duties of an editor. B. L.— THE CHARMED LIFE will be completed in two more numbers. The author's name is given every week. B.— We have not yet seen . the story. ( Several communications stand over until next week.) What madness it is for a man to starve himself to enrich his heir, and so turn a friend into an enemy; for his joy at your death will be in proportion to what you leave him. TO COUNTRY BOOKSELLERS & NEWS- AGENTS. THE TRADE are requested, should they find any difficulty in obtaining THE TOWN from their regular agent, to send their orders direct. W. W. begs to inform the trade, that he can serve them at the lowest pricu with all the weekly and monlhly periodicals, magazines, and newspapers, he making it his endeavour to deserve their support by his promptness and dispatch in collecting and forwarding their orders entire, even to the smallest articles. Cash in advance for the tirst two months. W. WINN, 34, Holywell- street, Strand, London. PROFESSOR CHAMBERS'S THREE SECRETS.— SECRETS OF MARRIED HAPPINESS; addressed to the Barren the Potent, and the Impotent. A Medico- Philosophical work. Post free, Is,— • The youthful and the aged, the married and the single, should alike consult it.'— The Argus. SECRETS FOR YOUNG MEN, MARRIED MEN, AND SINGLE MEN; giving them a description, by which certain diseases may be cured without medical aid. Post free, 8d. " This is a useful little work, and should be read by every Englishman." ' Old Bell's Weekly Messenger." SECRETS OF HEALTH IN MEN, WOMEN, AND CHILDREN; ad- dressed to all who would escape the diseases and epidemics peculiar to Great Britain, and attain robust maturity and hale old age. Post free, 8d. ' This is certainly a work of first- rate talent; the best on the subject!— Penny Punch. Stamps taken as Cash. Catalogues sent per post, on receipt of two stamps. T. Hicks, 84, Holywell- street, Strand. T. H, will not be responsible for any Works directed to be sent to Post Office MR. W A G G L EIS, CHAIRMAN OF THE GOSSIP CLUB. Mr. Waggles in the chair, Mr. Sharp on the right, Salloxc Man on the left, and a full meeting of members. Sharp. I don't believe a word of it, sir. I make a point— Sallow man. Very seldom, I assure you. I haven't heard one to- night. Chairman. Gentlemen— gentlemen— what's the row ? Sallow man. The row at Greenwich Fair, sir, which we have fallen foul of. It appears that on Easier Wednesday, towards evening, there were a great number of soldiers of the Royal Artil- lery and Marines standing in front of Richardson's booth, the property of Mr. Nelson Lee. The soldiers began annoying and ' bonneiting' the civilians, and when the mob groaned at the red- coats, the latter mounted the booth, committed all sorts of de- struction, and beat and ill- used all who came near. After great rioting the numbers of the police were increased, a detachment of the military was sent for, express from Woolwich, and twenty- two of the worst among the rioters were apprehended, brought before Mr. Seeker, the magistrate, on I hursday, and nineteen of the twenty- two, were committed to prison in default of bail to meet the charge at the sessions. Sharp. That isn't what I dispute, but you said the soldiers wanted to hang Mr. Nelson Lee. Sallow man. So they did, it came out in evidence. Sharp. And the reason was— Sallow man. Because the poor devils of mummers on the platform, tricked out as British officers, were such bandy- legged, cock- eyed rascals, they brought down ridicule on regimentals and disgrace on the service. Chairman. Ha, ha, ha! That'll do, Mr. ,1 beg your pardon, but I didn't catch your name. Sallow man. Thai's because I didn't throw it in your teeth. Striggles, sir. ' Joseph Striggles is my name, And England is my nation, London is my dwelling place, And a clerk's is my vocation ! Chairman. Good health, Mr. Striggles. ( A number of good healths succeed, Chairman after a pause.) Does anybody re- member reading a week or so back au extraordinary case in the papers, headed ' Awkward Affair,' ' Singular Case,' & c., the par- ticulars of which were something like these? A Mrs. Mitchell, the wife of a superintendent of works at Grantley, in Lincolnshire, had occasion to visit London, and during her stay at the house of a Mrs. Eldred, a coffee- shop- keeper, required some repairs done to a gold chain. Mrs. Eldred recommended her to a Mr. Watson in the neighbourhood— Shoreditch— and the lady stated that she went there accordingly and left her chain, but when she called for it again in a day or two afterwards, the shopman— to whom she swore as the party she gave the chain to— denied all know- ledge of her or his property. After a while Mr. Watson, the pro- prietor of the shop, was summoned betore Mr. Hammill, of Wor- ship- street, to explain the matter. The shopman, niece, and master, denied the whole affair, but Mr. Watson was held to be responsible, though there was not the slightest imputation cast upon his character and the issue was, that he had to pay M., tbe value of the chain, and 21. costs. Since then, however, it appears that Mr. Watson has discovered the chain was left at the slio. i of a Mr. Willis, whose man bore some resemblance to his own and the lady had perjured herself. Mr. Watson attended at Worship- street to prefer a charge against her in consequence, but the mag- istrate ruled that the lady had made a mistake, and would not en- tertain the application. Nervous man. Then, oh! you means to say, I suppo; e, Mr. C. airman, as bow he got no recompence. Chairman. No, sir, he got nothing, and that's what I call the hardship of the case, out he spoke English, Mr. Snoddles, and he never interrupted any man. Mr. Snoddles. I begs your parding, Mr. Chairman, I'm sure, but— Chairman ( lo Sharp). What did you say, sir? Sharp. 1 say, it has struck me as a very strange circun: stance, that most of the bodies which have been picked up from the late fearful wreck of The Royal Adelaide Steamer from Cork to Lon- don, lost off Mitfgate, Saturday the 30th, should have bad cork life preservers fastened under their arms. How was it none ; ur vived ? Quiet man in a corner. Why, sir, it is very easy to under- stand that although they might have floated, supposing they were not dashed to pieces on the breakers, in the fury of such a storm, the sea funning maintains high, must have dashed about them with such impetuosity as to bewilder, blind, and suffocate, the poor wretches, add to this the numbing cold, the darkness, and the terror of the scene, and you may easily comprehend how a life preserver that would be available in daylight and calm wea • ther, would become almost a mockery, on a night like the 30th. Enter Mrs. Jones, the Landlady. Landlady. Auy gent of the name of Striggles here? if so be, he's wauteu. Sallow man. Ecce homo, my dear madam. As the clown says ' Here we are.' Who, and what is it ? Don't be afraiu ma'atn— speak out. Mrs. Jones. Then it is a woman who says she is your wife, and it is high time you was home, and if you don't come directly, aud let her see the color of your money, which she ain't clapped eyes on for a fortnight, she'll have you out in a jiffy by the scru? o'your neck, and the seat o' your— pantaloons. CAs we had paid our score, and are naturally of a lamb- like disposition, we immediately donned our castor - squeezed by Mrs. Jones— and darted forthwith out of the house not however, before we had caught a glimpse of a very vixenish- looking female who was getting up her steam at the bar on a mild two penn'orth of shrub and cloves). Printed and published by W. WlNl\, 84, ttol, well-.. r, ei, tsu- uu, where ali communications are to be addressed Sold at all Booknellers, Railway Station, and Steam Boat Piers. [ ENTERED AT STATIONERS' HALL.]