NO. 45.] SATURDAY, AUGUST 15, 1857. [ PRICE ONE PENNY. The Inquisitive, Quizzical, Satirical, and Whimsical Epitome of Life as It Is. As wealth dees not ensure the greatest amount of happi- ness to the possessor, so those who spend most in seeking enjoyment a- e not always satisfied with their search. Our friend, Fred Jenkins, is just one of those happily- constituted individuals, who, on a very small sum, cuts a very large figure in the fast world. He always lives up to liis income, when he'is obliged to do so, and beyond it when peopleare good- natured enough to give him credit. He is, in fact, what is called a " jolly cock;" and is *' cock of the walk " wherever he contrives to squeeze his corpus into society, male or female. In liis intercourse with the world Fred is an optimist, andlooks upon every- thing for the best, consequently he is in no way discon- certed when, towards quarter- day, he is put to the shift to raise the needful that he may carry on the game ; the more so, since he is blessed with a few of the gentler sex who arc spooney on him. He is, in fact, a fast man, who prides himself upon being up to a thing or two, and who would not yield the palm to any young fellow on town for knowingness. This accomplished young gentleman is a nightly patron of the Manor House, Walworth, where he is known to every habitue, grave and gay, as a rollicking, devil- may- care sort ofa fellow. In the day- time he may be found in the office of a ship- broker, in Thames- street, to \ n.- im he is custos oltonso clerk, at the munificent salary of eighty pounds sterling, per annum, paid quarter'v. Hours, from ten till four. The labours are not rema'k- ably onerous, and Fred takes devilish good care to m ke them much lighter than they otherwise would be, y good- humouredly getting a fellow- clerk, Joe Snuffle* to do the weightier duties, which properly should be per- formed hy himself. As soon as his " daily course is r 11 » Fred retires to his " drum" at Newington Butts, anjj after an hour's relaxation, prepares himself to '-!!<•. u , r tho wished- for enemy iu the lield; aud wends his way PAUL PRY P A U L P E Y. his dearly- beloved nightly resort, to do a deux temps or Varsovianna with Polly W or Nelly M , between Whom ht distributes weekly donations, alternately. Now, however, we may be attached to certain places, from cheerful or pleasurable associations, we cannot always endure the eternal sameness iuseperable from them. Fred thought there was 110 spot in London equal to the Manor House. He would concede the prestige to Cremorne and the Cas, but whenever he entertained a notion of honouring" either with his presence, some how or other, he could not explain why, he did not feel as though lie should be able to make himself at home there. Still he continually longed for a change, and at length resolved to spenft an evening at the Flora Gardens, Camberwell. He consulted his friend Snuffles on the point, and both agreed that it would be a stunning opportunity when the governors tipped the denalidue, in a few days, to have a spree at the South London, Creinorne. At " length the wished- for hour " came. Fred was in the highest glee with ten " quid " in his " kick," and Joe " was equally elated with his live, being a junior to his friend. From Newington Butts, a cab conveyed the anxious pleasure seekers to their destination, where, after dropping the entrance fee, they found themselves, in a very few seconds, in the midst of the " gay and festive throng." Frederick " rolled his dickey" knowingly, and felt unusual confidence in his lady- killing capabilities. With a fragrant weed in his mouth, he strutted through the grounds with as little reserve as though he were " monarch of all he surveyed," quizzed the ladies, uttered sundry dry bon- mots, to which one could take off the hat and recognise as old familiar friends. J oe, though he had not the vivacity of his friend, was nevertheless gratified to a degree by his presence, and entered as fully into the spirit of the situation as it were possible for him to do. Two or three glasses 01 genuine cognac gave ad- I ciitional zest to their hilarity, and Fred began to think it was high time he looked out for a partner to do a polk and help to crack a bottle with him. At this moment he saw in thevdistance a piece of muslin which he fancied would be jtfcst Ehe thing, and, adjusting his " diamond " all round, he moved jauntily towards her. To say the truth, Fred could not be complimented on his taste. He always said he liked something recherche, but, like the Irishman, he preferred that which was neat and not gaudy, but must contain all the colours of the rainbow. The lady who now stood by his side was all his fancy painted her, and though not enchanting and divine, a remarkably pretty looking, lively lass. She was dressed in a doubled skirted muslin, stilly starched; and kept at a respectable distance from the understandings, fcy a profusion of crinoline. Her bonnet, a light straw coloured, was decked out in a profusion of flowers of all seasons and climes, whilst her figure was shown off to the greatest advantage by a skin fitting white jacket, something after the style of a lady's riding habit. As she approached Fred, a species of non- electric tele- graphing business went on, which brought both to a stand. " Well, my dear, you seem to know me," said the lady. " If I did not before, 1 do now, and a deuced fine girl you are," replied Fred. " If you tnink so what are you going to stand # " Stand," rejoined the happy youth, " anything you like, from champagne to bottled ale." " You're a brick," said the lady, " come on." " Like a- sliot," responded Fred, andaway they went. The lady did not - think it would run to champagne, so she modestly contented herself with sherry, Of- which they put away a coupie of bottles inono'time. The wine began to exercise a percept ble influence over Fred, who was now all life and animation. " Let's have the Yarsovianna?" said Fred, to his frail companion. They had the Varsovianna, aud Polka, and Celiarius, and Parisian quadiilles, and between each dance, some- thing to wet tlieir now parched throats. The lady fancied she'd got a " mug" a swell who was somewhat- green at the- game. Fred thought her equally innocent, and so they were agreed each, without the knowledge of the other, that something good had been dropped into. The lady seemed to feel no effect what- ever from the libations in which they had indulged, but the wine, weed, and dance, left Fred somewhat in the position of the double sighted window. His optic nerves reproduced every object that impressed the retina; he was, in fact, obfuscated. In the mutual confidence which sprung up, they had ascertained each other's names, and Emma Has hard in the space of a couple of hours, vowed she had fallen in love with— she£ did not say what— Fred Jenkins, who was equally earnest in his protestations. The time came for their departure, and Fred looked out lor his chum, who he found had been equally as free as himself. As they were about to leave the gardens they M ere joined by a third pal, met accidentally, and his chere amie, and each party departed arm- in- arm towards town. It was a beautiful, cloudless, moonlight night, when, after dropping in. at sundry wayside houses, they neared the back of the Surrey Gardens, where the interesting creature said she "" hung out." The nearer they ap- proached her domicile the more affectionate she became. * red was overjoyed. He enlivened the neighbourhood with " Fol- la- riety" and " Does your mother know you're out: ' When a Bobby approached, he roguishly told . buima sufficiently loud to be heard, that he should like some lobster sauce for supper ; and the indignant peeler emphatically told him to go on quiet, and let him have Roue of his sauce, or he would move him somewhere else. The intervals were spent— it was midnight— in dancing along to the most lively tunes which an obfus- cated individual could conjure up. Joe amused himself and doxy clambering up lamp- posts and lighting his cutty pipe; whilst their new- found friend and their ladies looked admiringly on. Fred, however, topped them all, and with his charming Emma went on at a rat- tling speed in a galop, and were quickly out of sight. W'omen like to have a man to themselves under cir- cumstances of this kind, and this was consequently why she did the gallopade with Fred, that she might get him out of the reach of his friends., the excuse being that two were company but three not. " How do you like it, Fred?" said the lady, when they had recovered breath. " Like it! oh, it's ripping ! it's " But he could not - go on; she led him forward to a par- ticular shop, where Emma looked anxiously about, as if disappointed at not meeting some one; her trouble was, however, soon dispelled, for in a few minutes after a muscular, Herculean- built, forbidden- iooking fellow emerged from a lane. Fred was too lushy to notice the freemasonry between the fellow and Emma, who nodded and passed on. ( To be concluded in our next.) EUGENIA'; OB, THE FATAL PASSION. A Romance oj Extraordinary Interest. CHAPTER VI. INQUIRIES. " If I was to see her twice," he said to himself, " it would turn my brain." The next day he had totally forgot Nona; al that he knew of her was that she belonged to Madame Delmare. The pale Eugenia occupied his every thought, filled bis every dream. When Raymond, commenced being enamoured, he was accustomed to benumb his better feelings, not to stifle that new- born passion, but on the con- trary to drive away the reason which prescribed to him to weigh its consequences. Ardent in pleasure, he pursued his purpose with eagerness. He was not master enough of himself to stifle the storms whjch rose in his bosom, no more than he was the master of lighting them up again, when he felt them disperse and extinguish themselves. He then, next day, succeeded in learning that M. Delmare was gone 011 a journey to Brussells, upon business relating to his manufactory. On leaving Paris, he had confided his wife to Madame de Car- vajal, whom he was not very fond of, but who was Madame Delmare's only relation. The family of M. Delmare, a fortunate soldier, was poor and ob- • scurc, and by dint of repeating he was not ashamed of it, he seemed to be ashamed. But, though he passed his life with reproaching his wife with a con- tempt she did not feel, he felt he ought not to con- strain her to become intimate with his uneducated relations. Besides, notwithstanding his dislike tor Madame de Carvajal he could not refuse showing her great deference for the following reasons. Madame de Carvajal, the issue of a great Spanish family, was one of those women who cannot resolve to be nothing. In the time when Napoleon regented Europe, she • had sacrificed to the glory* of Napoleon, and with her husband and her brother- in- law lias embraced the party of the Josephinos; but her husband having been killed at the fall of the * eonqueror's ephemeral dynasty, the father of Eugenia had taken refuge in the colonies; when Madame de Carvajal, adroit and active, re- tired to Paris, where, by 1 know not by what specu- lations in the Exchange, slie had created for herself a fresli independence on the wrecks of her past splendour. By dint of understanding, of intrigues and devotion, she had, moreover, found favour at courts, aud her house, without being one of the most brilliant, was one of the most honourable that could be quoted amongst the proteges of the civil list. When, after the death of her father, Eugenia arrived in France, married to Colonel Delmare, Madame de Carvajal was not much flattered by so petty an alliance. Nevertheless, she made for Eu- genia the acquisition ot the little chateau of Ligny, and the manufactory dependant on it. In two years the affairs of the colonel took a fortunate j turn; his debts began to be paid off, and Madame de Carvajal, in whose eyes fortune was the chief recommendation, shewed much affection for her niece, and promised her the remainder of her in- heritance. Eugenia, indifferent to ambition, repaid her aunt by attentions and civility, through grati- tude and not through interest. These things stated, let us return to M. de Ra- miere. So actively had he pursued his enquiries relative to the means of procuring an introduction to the Delmare family, that in three days he was acquainted with all these domestic details. He knew that, by gaining access to Madame de Car- vajal, he could see Eugenia, and on the evening of the third day he was formally presented to her. There were only in tbe saloon four or five ostro- gothic figures gravely playing at reversi, and two or three eldest sons of the family, as dull as it is permitted tcr be when one has sixteen quarterings- of nobility. Eugenia was quietly seated at her aunt's frame employed on a piece of tapestry. She was leaning over her work, apparently absorbed in that mechanical operation, and perhaps glad at thus being able to escape the frozen conversation of her neighbours. I know not whether, hid'under her long black hair, which hung over her frame, she was repassing in her mind the emotions of that short and rapid instant which initiated her in a new lire when the voice of the footman announcing several names warned her to rise. She did so mechanically, for she had not listened to the names, and scarcely had she raised her eyes- from her embroidery, when a voice struck her like an electric shock, and she was obliged to lean upon her table to prevent herself from falling. CHAPTER VII. RAYMOND had not expected this silent saloon, sprinkled with mute and attentive figures. It was impossible to utter a word that would not be heard in every corner of the saloon. He had reckoned upon a more easy interview, upon a more tender con- versation than that of the ball, and it was the very reverse. This unforeseen difficulty gave greater intensity to his desires, more fire to his looks, more animation and life to the indirect interpolations he addressed to Madame Delmare. The poor child was a complete novice at this kind of attack. She had no possible means of defence, because she was asked nothing. But she was forced to listen to the offer of an ardent heart, to learn how much she was loved, and to let herself be surrounded by all the dangers of seduction without making auy resis- tance. Her embarrassment increased with the boldness of Eaymond. Madame de Carvajal, who had some well founded pretensions to wit, and who had heard 51. de Ramiere boasted of for his, left the card- table to engage with him in a discussion upon love, into which she threw a great deal of Spanish passion and German metaphysics. Raymond eagerly accepted the challenge, and under pretence of replying to the aunt, he said to . the niece all she would have refused to hear. The poor young woman, deprived of protection, exposed on every side to so lively and so skilfnl an attack, had 110 power to mix in that thorny debate. IN vain the aunt, jealous of making her shinel appealed to her upon certain subtilates of theoretica sentiment. She avowed, blushing, that she knew nothing about all that, and Raymond, intoxicated with joy on seeing her cheeks colour and her bosom swell, swore he would teach it to her. Eugenia slept still less that night than the pre- ceding ones; we have said it, she had not yet loved, and her heart had long been ripe for a senti- ment, none of the men she had met with had been able to inspire her with. Brought up by a capri- cious and violent father, she had never known the happiness, the affection of another bestows. M. de Carvajal, saturated with po'.' tical passions, tor- mented with ambitions regrets, had become the rudest planter and the most dis. igreeable neighbour in tbe colonies; his daughter had suffered cruelly from his illttemper. But in seeing the continual P A U L P E Y. picture of the ills of slavery, in supporting the ennuis of isolation and dependance, she had acquired an exterior patienee proof against every thing, an indulgence and adorable kindness to her inferiors, but also a will of iron, a power of incalculable resist- • ance against all that tended to oppress her. In marrying Delmare she only changed masters; in coming to live at Lagny, changed but her prison and her solitude. She did not love her husband, for perhaps the sole reason, that is was made a duty on her to love him, and that mentally to resist every species of restraint was in her become a se- cond nature, a principle of conduct, a law of con- science. It had not been endeavoured to prescribe to her any other than that of blind obedience. Brought up in the desert, neglected by her fattier, living in the midst of slaves, for whom she had no other succour, no other consolation than her com- passion and her tears, she had accustomed herself to say— " A day will come when everything will be changed in my life, when I shall do good to others, a day when I shall be beloved, when I shall give my whole heart to him who shall give me his; till then let me suffer. Let me be silent and keep my love for him who shall deliver me." This liberator, this Messiah had not appeared; Eugenia still awaited him. She dared not yet, it is true, avow to herself her whole thought. She had comprehended under the clipped hedges of Lagny even thought ought to be more shackled - than beneath the wild palm trees of the Isle of Bourbon; and when she surprised herself still saying through habit: — " A day wiil come— a man will come," She drove down this rash vow to the botton of her soul, and said to herself:— " I must then die." And she also was dying. Au unknown com- plaint was devouring her youth. She was without strength, and without sleep. The physicians in vain sought for some apparent disorganization. This silent and broken heart was always calling, unknown to itself, upon some young and generous heart to revivify it. Madame Delmare was truly unhappy, and the first time that she felt the fiery breath of a young and ardent man penetrate within her frozen at- mosphere, the first time a tender and caressing word intoxicated her ear, and that a shuddering mouth came like a hot iron to mark her hand, she thought neither of the duties that had been im- posed upon her, nor of the prudence which had been recommended to her, nor of the future which had been predicted to her; she only recalled to herself the odious past, her long sufferings, her despotic master. Neither did she think that that man might be a liar or frivolous. She saw him as she desired him to be, as she had dreamt him, and Raymond might have been able to de- ceive her, had he not been sincere. But how could he not have been so with so loving and so lovely a woman. What other had ever shewn herself to him with so much candour and innocence ? With whom had he found where to place smiling and so sure a future? Was she not born to love him, that slave wife, who only waited for a sign to break her chain, but for a word, to follow him ? Heaven had, doubtless, formed her for Raymond. Nevertheless a sentiment of affright succeeded to that feverish happiness that had just invaded her. She thought of her husband, so suspicious, so clear, sighted, so vindictive, and she was affraid, not for herself who was inurea to menaces, but for the man who was going to undertake war to the death. She was so little acquainted with society that she made of life a tragic romance; timid creature, she dared not love, in the fear of exposing her lover to perish; she thought not at all of the danger of losing herself. That was then the secret of her resistance, the motive of her virtue 1 She next day formed the resolution of avoiding M. de Ramiere. Madame de Carvajal, who loved the world like an old woman without affections, wished to introduce Eugenia into it; but Raymond would be there, and Eugenia promised herself not to go into it. Madame Delmare, feigned to accept the proposal; she let her toilette be prepared and waited till Madame de Carvajal had completed hers; she then put on a robe de chambre, sat herself in the fire corner, and firmly awaited her. When the old Spanish, lady as stiff, and dressed out like a portrait of Vandyck, came to take her, Eugenia declared she was unwell, and unable to go out, and entreated her aunt to go to the ball without her. The Marchioness of Carvajal, who only asked to let herself be persuaded, at length set off; when Eugenia hid her face in her two hands, and began to weep : for she had made a great sacrifice, and thought she had already overturned the smiling edifice of the preceding evening. Bnt this could not be with Raymond. The first thing he perceived at the ball was the proud aigrette of the old marchioness. In vain he looked round her for the white robe and black hair of Eugenia; he went nearer, and heard her half- whisper to another lady: " My niece is ill or rather," she added, in order to authorize her own presence at the ball, " it's a young lady's whim. She wished to remain in the saloon alone, with a book in her hand, like a fine sentimentalist." " Could sbe be flying from me," thought Ray- mond. He immediately quitted the ball. He arrived at the marchioness's, passed the porter withost saying a word and asked for Madame Delmare, of the first valet he met with half asleep in the anti- chamber. " Madame Delmare is unwell." " I know it, I am come to enquire how she is from Madame de Carvajal." " I will acquaint Madame." " It's useless, Madame Delmare will not deny herself to me." And Raymond went in without having himself announced. All the other servants were in bed, and a mournful silence reigned tl. ro lgh the apart- ments. A single lamp covered with its shade green taffety, dimly lighted the great saloon. Eugenia had her back turned towards the door; entirely hid in a high arm chair, she was mournfully looking at the burning embers, as on the evening when Raymond entered Lagny over the walls: more melancholy now for to a/ vague suffering had succeeded a fugi- tive joy, a ray of lost hope. Raymond, dressed for the ball, stepped silently over the soft and soundless carpet. He saw she was weeping, and when she turned her head she found him at ber feet, forcibly seizing hold of her hands that she in vain endeavoured to withdraw from his grasp. ( To be continued in our next.) ST. HELENA GARDENS. RAGLAN HALL, THEOBALD'S ROAD. We are glad to find that the spirited proprietor of this popular place of entertainment is having his music- hall enlarged, so as to enable him to find room for his numerous and increasing patrons, as many persons are turned away nightly for want of sufficient space. We certainly advise all our readers who have not heard Mr. Ogden, the celebrated Irish singer, to go at once to hear him. He is the best Irish comic singer out, and his variations on the violin are excellent. Harry Caster is also at this place of entertainment, and sings a very good song, " The men of merry England," which must be heard to be appreciated. CHUECH GRIEVANCES. The church, as now- a- days ' tis found. Is in religion's side a wound. Of that I'm very sure; Yet, though so many are amiss Among the parsons, still there is Scarce one without a cure. IT is many a long summer since the proprietors of those delightful places of " cockney resort— the Gar- dens— have enjoyed so uninterrupted a season as that which ia now drawing to a close. If failure has, in any instance, attended their exertions, the fault must rest with themselves, since there ha3 been no lack of disposition on the part of the pub- lic to rally round them. As far as we are able to judge, the St. Helena Gardens, Rotherhithe, has en- joyed a fair share of patronage from the " jolly young watermen," and the members of the gentler craft who holdout at Dockhead, Bermondsey, Ro- therhithe, Horsleydown, and, in fact, in all the in- termediate townships, south of the Thames, below bridge. From the multiplicity of our engagements, quiz- zing men and manners, we have been precluded from dropping into the St. Helena 011 the week- day, but we have no doubt that the attractions are sufficiently varied and interesting to satisfy the payer of the sixpence charged for admission. In the first place we have the gardens themselves, which are as near an approach to Arcadia as the neighbourhood will allow » them to be. Then we have the Centrifugal Railway, which, on special days, is set in motion for the delectation of those who are fond of going round, like certain politicians, and returning to the same point, without losing their centre of gravity. This is followed by Mr. and Master Wood, the latter being a perfect little wonder iu the nigger line; a " coon," in fact, who, though a small singer, never sings small. We have already- given our opinion of this phenomenon iu our description of the Dr. Johnson Tavern, and may safely, therefore, leave him to the very great repu- tation, rarely enjoyed by so little a subject. As small prodigies are the order of the day, we have here an infant Taglioni, Miss Alluutte, who, not. being part- nut, is cracked up to the skies by the many juvenile admirers who are " nutty" on her dancing. Mr. Van- go has a very heavy convey- ance at his disposal, in the shape of a voice, rolling like distant thunder, but which, nevertheless, gains him tremendous claps from the palms of the audi- ence. Mr. Hall, with his mechanical son. Tommy, an ingenious ventriloquist is too well- known at every gaff aud " dukey" throughout the metropolis, and too well appreciated by their habitues, to need any comment from us, but— " Who can speak the charms we feel" when Zeluti's band strikes up its entrancing strains, and mayhap Jim H—, the fla^ h taylor, of Free- school- street, and the pattern card of his own esta- blishment is perambulating with some fair Julia, listening with ecstatic joy ; or Billy G—, the re- nowned bass- viol maker, violently contorting his " scorigers," to keep time during a polka with Joe, the famous dress quizzer. But why should we enlarge on these nightly visits when we have only to do with the Sunday folk ? Like all Sabbath frequenters of gardens, those who patronise St. Helena,' are of all shapes, sizes, ages, and sexes. Here we have overgrown boys playing at leap- frog, others enjoying a swing. Some engaged at kiss in the ring, whilst the pro- prietor of a weighing machine is literally afraid of his life, owing to a number of watermen's kiddeyg and their girls testing their strength. Then come butchers, bakers, tinkers, tailors, and all the et ceteras, indulging their own peculiar fancies as Handel's glories are interspersed with some less sacred theme. And thus the night draws on apace. Lovers retire to cool retreats, and talk over the connubial bliss to come, and flash boys look reund for a partner, for an hour, to whom they can say soft nothings, where we leave them in full enjoy- ment, and the determination to stick to St. Helena for ever, weather permitting. THE MOST Sharp't- aHey. KNOWING SPOT IM LONDON.— PAUL PRY. f NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS. V. 71.— All letters intended for the Editor, should he ad- dressed to him, at the OJfiee ; but those relating to matters of business should be directed to the Publisher, HENRY YOUNG, 5, Whitefriar's Street, Fleet Street, London. N. B— It is PARTICULARLY requested that in all eontri- butions. sent, the names may be LEGIBLY written. NOTICE.— All letters enclosing THREB STAMPS, will receive PRIORITY, provided they are not libellous or objectionable. To ADVERTISERS.— No Advertisements can be admitted under SIXPENCE PER LINE. Six or more lines as per agreement. GRAVESEND.— If the party, who forwarded a request respecting the unfortunate, would be more explicit, and send the names, we will attend to him. T. J. E. C. B. ( Bristol).— Under consideration. N. N. ( Hull).— The subject is dropped, and it is not worth while reverting to it. J. W. O. ( London).— If your communications are not in the present number send them again. P. S. ( Bristol).— You can purchase the " Paul Pry Song- ster " at 5, Sims'- alley, Broadmead. SALOON OMNIBUS COMPANY.— In our next. JARDIN D'HIVER.— Some remarks on this scheme next week. X. Y. Z. ( Frome).— We never divulge the names of our correspondents. You can order Paul Pry through your bookseller, without his incurring the slightest risk. G. G. ( Grimsby).— Send us the promised advice at your earliest convenience. - BULLY ( Newcastle).— Let uf hear from you again. INQUIRER ( Portland- placa.— There are upwards of from 130 to 140 hous » of accommodation in the district around Portland- place, and from 900 to 1,000 fa ihionableprostitutes inhabit them, besides tlickeepers and their lacquays. This includes Charlotte- street, Norton- stretet, Buckingham- street, Cirencester- place, and Portland- road. The computation is, that this hornets nest is equal to 8 in 12 of the population and 1 in 6 of the poor population. Here is a frightful compu- tation 1 But where is the remedy ? It is true Mr. Rouudell Palmer, the clergymen, and some of the doctors are trying to make a stir to cleanse these hornets nests, but indictments will prove of little avail. The authorities may drive them from certain streets, aud they will take refuge elsewhere, in equally respectable neighbourhoods. If this estimate be correct, as to the number of Magdelens, in a circumference of about one- third of a mile, what must be the amount of time and money thrown away by the wealthy and aristocratic ? Not one of these women pay less than £ 1 per week, the larger proportion £ 2 to £ 5, for lodgings akfhc! It is not a nuisance even to the district, for Norton- street, Charlotte- street, and others, have contained notorious bagnios for thirty or forty years. To indict 140 houses at one fell swoop would be ridiculous, and would be a fine legal job. Let those who complain find tlie money, not extract it from the ratepayer's pocket. In a limited space like this, where so much money is cir- culated, many hundreds of tradesmen must, in a measure depend upon these unfortunates for support. This should be taken into consideration. If the parsons of All Soul's and Trinity had their cures taken from them, they would expect to be placed somewhere " else, or be compensated. They should do as they would be done by. To OUR COUNTRY READERS.— Should any of our nume- rous readers experience any difficulty in getting Paul Pry in the town in which they reside, they can receive four copies, post free, on their enclosing us four postage stamps. CAUTION TO THE TRADE AND OUR READERS. A spurious song- book, called the " Penny Paul Pry Songster" has just been issued, and is in circu- lation among the trade. The proprietors of the genuine song book beg to acquaint their thou- sands of readers, that they have nothing whatever to do with this abortion. Part 2 of the song- book, containing a rich and racy collection of comic songs, price Twopence, is NOW READY. SATURDAY, AUGUST 15, 1857. " FASHIONABLE PROFLIGACY. OF all the horrible features which the revela- tions connected with the life of a common strumpet bring to light, we have met with none so revolting, disgusting, and inhuman, as that of a mother living on the degradati f her children. Those unversed in the mysteries of prostitution would scarcely credit the existence of such a monster. Yet the fiend is to be found in every quarter of this mighty Babel, where societies exist in abundance for the sup- pression of every conceivable vice or crime. You may meet with them in the purlieus of Wap- ping, in the dens of the New Cut, in the quiet seclusion of religious Islington, and in the aris- tocratic stews of Belgravia. Such, indeed, is the extent of harlotry in London at the present day, that one is at a loss to understand what may be the occupation of a next- door neighbour. In Ratcliff Highway, we met with infamy in the broad noon- day, and no attempt is made at disguise. The Norton- street denizens slink out at night, not stealthily, though more modestly. Whilst the courtesans of Belgravia turn away in scorn from their equally fallen sisterhood, de- spise saloons, gardens, theatres, and casinos, to drive with the " high blood" of the upper ten thousand in Rotten- row, or to occupy their box at the opera. They sell their charms to nothing less than a thing with a coronet, despising pre- sumptuous plebians, however favoured by for- tune, who dared have the effrontery to tender Ihem mercenary gold unaccompanid by ancient lineage. It would be imagined that birds with such splendid plumage would fly higher in all their ventures, and that that which characterised the less successful of the species would be foreign to them. So that parents living in degrading loathsomeness, and with their offspring in low life, would find no imitators among others, who look upon the same profession as themselves, as holding, relatively, the position of slavies, as compared with ladies. Doubtless, in some instances, this is the case; but thero is one exception which has come under our cognisance we feel bound to expose, from the revolting fea- tures of depravity in " high life " it reveals. At No. 1, Eccleston- street, Pimlico, resides Miss Agnes Willoughby, a " lady" of easy virtue, who is under the " protection " of some of our highly moral aristocracy, whose ears have, not unlikely, been polluted by the harrowing statis- tics given by that martyr to Judaism, the Lord Chief Justice, on the sale of obscene books. Miss Agnes keeps her Brougham, has a set of servants, together with a housekeeper, butler, and secretary. She has a companion also, her sister Theresa, a lovely creature, thirteen years of age; and in order that everything may be in perfect keeping, probably to prevent the domes- tics " making " too much oufc of her " friends," the mother, who goes by the name of Ann Rogers, acts as housekeeper, and receives a salary for lier multifarious services. Un- doubtedly Miss Agnes must be in the receipt of an income, which, added to Theresas, who, in common, sees some gentleman must be consider- able. The establishment must, moreover, have a very large correspondence to employ a secretary. The butler, John Burdon, receives £ 50 a year, but we are not informed as to the salary, being a confidant of her ladyship's secretary or mother, who is a person of independent means, but prefers increasing her yearly income as- servant to her daughter. Is it not a ( pity that Lady Agnes had not a genial field for the gratification of her unbounded ambition ? She has the will to be great, but not the status. But what shall be said of the mother ?— that disgustingly filthy and heartlessly unfeeling old harridan, who fattens upon the corruption and' infamy of her own flesh and blood ? There is no punishment which the law can award severe enough for her. Acknowledging she has an independent income, she, nevertheless, not only- permits her children, one thirteen years of age, to live in splendid infamy, but participates her- self in their unhallowed gains with brazen effrontery, and this, too, under the very nose of the saints of Barnabas, who have spent thousands to decide the substance and form of the commu- nion table and church decorations. Let the- Chartist Westerton think of this. Let the Hon. and Rev. Mr. Liddell use his pastoral influence in bringing to light all such cases as this, instead of devoting the time, which might be more profitably occupied than in wearing chap- lets. We have no hope, however, from these worthies; but will the police authorities allow such festering ulcers as No. 1, Eecleston Terrace, and its inhabitants, to go uncured P Where is the society for the Protection of Young Women ? We are- ready to admit that prostitution is a necessary evil which cannot be exterminated, but maintain that mothers, who become panderers to the lusts of the great, do not care to fulfil their duties to society, they should, by the strong arm of the law, be made forcibly to do so. THEATRICAL NOTES AND QUERIES- EXPLAIN YOURSELF ?— Mr. Benjamin Webster says lie did not take the chair at the Dramatic Siclc Fund dinner, because he " met with a serious acci- dent when shooting— not the stars— but in an en- deavour to obtain a little amusement and recrea- tioir." Now, if Ben was not in the act of shooting- stars— doubtless a very brilliant operation— it perfectly clear his. occupation was not celestial studies, and must have been physical sport. Though lie does uot make himself understood on this point, there is one familiar with the " music of the spheres " who could explain the mystery, and who, as wi: are informed, would, where manly sports are concerned, back him against the field as a dead shot when game is to be bagged. QUEItlES AND ANSWERS. ( Dedicated to an illustrious Elocutionist.) Who wears a smooth and seemly face, And sneaks in every lady's place? Who lias a red and dcbauch'd face ? Why, Neddy. " Who lurks about thc manag'rs door, And carries tale ne'er told before i " Who cares not being call'd a bore ? " Why, the Donkey. Who plucks the pigeons in his class ? What ballet girl will he let pass ? Who'll get what he deserves at last ? Why, Pimpl'd Neddy. Who lives on other people's brains, And pavs them nothing for their pains ? Who'll one day thrash'd be for his pains? Why, the Rag Picker. Who toadies to a felon's friend. And would not to a starveling lend? Who'll in some pig- sty meet his end? Why, tho Reptile. P A U L P E Y. THE MEMENTO.— We extract the following from the scrap- book of the Olympic Swan, being Lyon's last:— " Within this page I treasure thee— Thou, virtue's own epitome ! Let fortune, time, do what they will, Thou wilt be dear, yet valued still." DOGS!! DOGS !! DOGS!!!.— The long predicted downfall of the drama has come at last— for Messrs. Chappell and Pearce offer to produce a " new and superior dramas," with the assistance of " two splendid dogs." As this is more than the majority of professionals can accomplish, we may reasonably conclude that theatricals have gone to the dogs. FORMALITY.— Have you not observed, remarked in confidence the other day, Miss' •, " that Charles Selby is a very agreeable man, but there is a certain stiffness about him." " Indeed," answered Mrs. S—, who stood by, ." I never thought so." " With his wife! not possible" was ! the reply. Charleys clever spouse, thereupon, took up a pen and produced the following:— Say, have I cause for foolish fears, « For sorrow, or domestic strife ? My lord to others stiff appears, But always pliant to his wife! THE MENAGERIE. OLD KENT- EOAD NONDESCRIPT. , To be seen alive! alive! alive! any evening, tween the hours of six and eight o'clock, a c] specimen of the Rhinocerus tribe. Million! have seen this docile creature, have prone uni the most wonderful curiosity ever brought Answers to the call of—" Harry, where ari his name being Harry Sh r. He is very offen- sive with his keepers when at liberty, but naturally very quiet in his cage ( a good reason why). Those who have not seen him, should not miss taking a stroll down the Old Kent- road to do so. N. B.—- Admission free. THE WALWORTH: GREENHORN. Recently arrived from Birmingham, a fine and curious specimen of a greenhorn. This ugly, her- ring- gutted animal may be easily known by his ill- sliapen numskull; which, unfortunately for tbe honour and credit of his family, possesses very little brains— stands about 5ft. 7in. in height, swings bis arms about as though they did not belong to him ; wears an old- fashioned tile, very small for such an overgrown lout; answers to the name of Tertius B— wr— g, and hangs out in Beresford- street. He may be seen any morning, about half- past eight, crawling along to the S. E. Ry. Co's offices. THE ROTHERHITHE BLOATER. Ladies and gentlemen, take a walk to the St. Helena Gardens, Rotherhithe, and see a rare speci- men of a Bloater, waltzing round the gardens with the girls every Monday evening. Whoever is de- sirous of seeing this specimen alive, if they do not find him in the gardens, they may see him in the fish- shop, next to the Queen Charlotte, Millpond- bridge, winking at tbe girls as they pass by, which Paul thinks is very wrong. THE LAMBETH MONKEY. To be seen alive, a two- legged animal, every morning, on the penny boat, which leaves Lambeth at half- past eight. He may be known by his whiskers and pointed eye- brows; wears a brown Talma, which fits him rather too much, and smokes a short, black pipe; altogether the finest specimen of the monkey to be seen. If tbe description fails to make known to the reader who tbis animal is, they perhaps will know Jack SI— t, the frequenter and patroniser of a certain doctor's shop in tho Westminster- road. Take care, or he may bite, as it is well- known he has a venomous fang, and vows he will use it to auy one who dares to put him in Paul Pry. • THE BATH BABOON. A sight for the Bath chaps.— To be seen alive, daily, on the doorstep of the High Bailiff's office, York- street, a baboon of peculiar stature, with a slight moustache, looking after the girls, and caus- ing immense attraction. Paul had his eye upon him at the Flower Show, anil would recommend him not to take a girl in future, as it only makes him appear more conspicuous. This wonderful ( md curious animal may also be seen of au evening in the chess- room of the Bath Athetiaium. P. S.— It is hoped that the public will take tfte earliest opportunity of seeing him, as it is expected that he will shortly be removed to the Zoological Gardens, Regent's- parly London. THE BRISTOL APE. 0 look ! 0 look! ye inhabitants of Temple Backs !— To be seen alive, a splendid specimen of the Ape. He has a small head, small eyes/ and very little brains. This biped answers to thejjfiame of Jack SI— de, alias The Lushy Wheelwright. Paul has his eye on you and that empty- headed rag merchant. THE BRISTOL POLE- CAT. All persons who wish to avail themselves of the opportunity that now presents itself— viz., that of seeing a rare and curious specimen of the female Pole- cat— are requested to station themselves just opposite a painter's, not far from' Redcliff- street— where this beauty and the remainder of the family/ are permitted to live gratuitously— and, in/ the! course of ten minutes, you will see the ugly, beast; you cannot mistake her. In case, however, < you should, we describe her,— Age 28 to 30, exceedingly dirty- looking, about 3ft. 6in. in height and has been on the shelf some time. Persons ^ Bwing the animal are requested not to touch her, ^ r'she is a Methodist, and consequently very vicious^ nor to feed her, as her food is of a peculiar ldnd./ On Sun- days she is very docile, and appears tfo have a return of instinct when called by the namq} cf H. W— b, or, Lump of Methodistical Hypocrj committee of ways and means, whilst wistfully titillating their olfactory organs with the " savoury odours" from Johnson's Alamode Beef House. " Stripes" performing at a cook- shop, in Long Acre, on Monday night, coming from the Holborn on hot- banced pudding. " Agony" standing outside of Scott's, waiting for some woman to stand him a supper. " Little Jack," alias Bum, singing smrftty songs on the top of the bus coming from Cremorne, to- the utter disgust of some modest woman. " Harry Cuff" asking the woman what she would have to drink,, aad when they got in the public- house, saying Be nad got no money, and had lost his purse. i The ex- M. C. at the philharmonic being promoted to waiter. Paddy, alias the Frail Sister, being very down in* the mouth, because she has nu^ seen her Tel for a week. " The Butcher trying to perform ^ in the spoony waltz at the Philharmonic. am^ ot w THE ISLINGTON To be seen exhibited at Islington- green, een the hours of one and two, a very fine specimen of the Bear tribe, or at the Pickering Arms, Lower- road, at eight o'clock in the evening. This animal answers to the nauie of Moulder or L— dd— gt— n. Paul would advise this creature not to forget his dear old Til, of Camden- town or she may send peeler after him. How about El^ er Mom cursion round Shoreditch and findmg a THE FETTER- LANE WHAT^ TS IX The'greatest wonder of the age ! daily, in Fetter- lane, one of the most ugly, prou^ J, vain, and affected animals ever shown tchyie public. It goes by the name of Iiob C— r— tt— 11, alias Go- along Bob, and is well known by its hairy mouth. Without doubt, it is one of the most peculiar bipeds that ever crept the earth; it may be seen almost every evening, after eight o'clock, doing the ami- able writh a lady not far from St. Dunstan's- in- the West. THINGS PAUL WOULD LIKE TO SEE. Ben Fairbi4ther illustrating the properties of straight lines and right angles when in a state of poma, and complaining of a severe attack of ch jlera, Frank Pastor, the great American equestrian, * ho is at liberty to " accept engagements," doing. y; e grand at the Rotuudo, Blackfriars- road. ' The bank pass- books of all tbe managers of theatres who have " realised large fortunes by speculations in the drama." Master Abrahams and Mrs. Downing holding a tete- a- tete on the division of tbe spoils, in the event of the " Wandering Jew" finding repose in a con- secrated grave. igrapher^ who never made a mistake in arge for a picture. Hackney HR THINGS WORTH NOTICE. ABOUT TOWN. Ida Aldridgc,- the nigger, " performing" his cele- brated character, Othello, " at home;" Mrs. A. playing Amelia to him. Harry ISoleno getting up a comic' scene " out of liis own head," and quite " horiginal.-" Henry Butler, Esq., alias Captain Fopham, in a state of effervescence in How- street, because the common herd obstruct his free passage. l'ongy Barrett sporting a white bat on the Rialto, and doing the extensive with a half pint of porter at the Cider Cellars. Little Lewis doing a sixpenny feed at the Ship- yard dining- rooms, and recruiting himself with a penny Pickwick afterwards. PAUL WOULFL^ TDL The ugly Jew and bully, who lodges nT* Edith- sfcreet, Hackney- road, not to decoy young girls like little Lizzy, 4pme, or perhaps he will get what he richly de- " twelve months on the mill. How does Pat and on now 2 Have you given up the harp playing Charles CI— rk, straw bor « t- r » aker, Stanhope- street, Clare- market, to mind his 0^ 1 busing, and not act as a spy for other people? Sttrge and William, the two flash Holywell- street bo^ fcf Mrs. Hart's old clothes shop, not to be s ? eu so- often with H. D— sm- re's girl, as if he hears of it if. will drop them a hot- u^ and they know he can do it, to >. How about Exeter- street. Aye, my Petticoat- lane swell, have vou naid the I s. Gd. vet ? you paid yet'? D— sm— re, and N— rt— n, the crack " orsmen" of the T. A. C., not to think there are not two watermen left able to contend with them. Paul is glad to find that T— m S n, not a hundred miles from I^ radise House, has been a little more under his mother's tuition lately, and that he has kept in- doors, Instead of trying to ape the FAST young man of Islington up and down the High- street. We hope your cousin with the pair of nut- crackers is quite well. Am— a O— k~ d— n, of Cambcrwell, not to forget her usual delicacy, and disclose the secrets of the heart, by reading her letters at the Dressmaker's so often. Poor young man! Had Paul known what was going on, he would have told him what to expect, and what a little coquette she was. Paul is coming that way again soon, and if he finds her continue such conduct, so unbe- coming a lady.(?), with that gentleman—( 110 insult)— he will give hur a severe poke with his gingham. The S. A. C. to continue its meritorious course, and it will flourish. Paul likes to see young men acting as they do, and lie must congratulate them upon their appearance on the water. Paul was sorry to see that little mishap at the bridge; but " misfortunes canno't be prevented." He is glad to sec they have one or two working members, wlio havfe an interest in the support of the Club, among- them. He may name Mr. S Mr. S— d, Mr. W s, and Mr. H if Paul likes; see Mr. W s at the Club, and'he is advised to. J< them up sharp, as it is greatly benefij ing matters, and Paul respects a mi respects Mr. T— y— r for his punctua . would do better to pay a little more' | do at present. He ( Paul) will l^ nvf J W Simpson, the great Bower tragedian and Jack R* yner, the Petticoat- lane wonder, holding a poke, .'- T* ' ! f P A U L P E T . James F. Sm— th, the ghastly jeweller's housekeeper, of Newington- causeway, with the opera hat and inci- pient whiskers, not to think himself so large because of his share ticket, and cut such a dash at the Surrey Music Hall in the cheap straw. Paul has eye upon him, quizzing the gals and criticising the music, with his snobby friends. Unless he leaves off , that gal of his, and alters his tune, he will have to pay another visit to the chemist at the London- docks. Therefore let him mind his p's and q's. A curious specimen of the monkey tribe, answering to the name of Charley G u, to be seen in Leadenhall-. market. He is a very lazy animal, and may be seen every meal time at the Lamb Coffee- house. His father is always beating him to keep him at home, but it is no use; he will keep out with the girls. How about the wall- flower in Hackney- fields. A lanky, carroty, cadaverous- looking clerk, who tries most unmercifully to clo the GENT, by wearing coloured shirts, cotton lace neck- tie, and lay- down collar, to be seen not far from Drury- lane. Paid wants to know how much longer he is going to sport the said cotton- lace neck- tie? This specimen of humanity answers to the eame of H— n— y Tr— c— h— e— r. A half- bred Cure ( known as young L— c— s), to be seen at a certain house in the Smyrkes- road, who is re- quested by Paul not to be so fast" in drawing the stray pigeons away, because if he can't catch them himself he may let others do so. Paul also requests him not to be seen at the Miss Tr— ml— ns with his friend Wooden- head. George II y, of Chariot! e- street, alias the Sneak, alias the Spongy Cove, alias the Tit, and several others, to be seen any night at the cigar shop, in the Old Kent road, known as C s. One day last week, the above Tit went home and told his father that his little brother Ikey had been taking women to Greenwich Park on Sunday, and that, whenever he stayed out all night he did not sleep with him but went to the Haymarket, in the St. Andrew's- road, which some of his friends know to be quite untrue, aud Paul has a very great mind to shew him up by letting his friends know a few things, about him. Colli M n, the sleepy- looking lad, of the Marl- borough- road, Old Kent- road, when he is sent to the West- end, not to take the halfpenny boat, instead of the omnibus, or Mr. W— k— n, will hear of it, and then he will get the sack. Paul supposes the three pence halfpenny helps to defray the expense in taking a young lady in the Albion- road to the gardens. Colli, my boy, arouse from your slumbers and look as if you had some life in you, or you will have the gentleman with the £ 1000 walk off With your darling, arid leai you to say " that is where my money is gone." thinks that it Js tfcne that nice long- tail coat petitioned off, ool^| ao seedy for the gardens. • Charley W-^^ B cofflwmmate humbug of Sax Mund- ham, not to borrow other persons money, and then not pay them. How about the milk maid at Maidstone? Do behave yourself a little better or else Paul will be on to you. A certain newsvender, not a hundred miles from GHK1 Tower- street, to keep the gj^ in his shop a little m^^: quiet, and not let her flirt orMftk with her fingers to the fellows opposite, as, it looks ^ ry bad. A certain shipbrciker, not one mile from Great Tower- street, to keep his counting- house window closed, ae certain parties in Mark- lane say that he cannot bflle afltly heavy and having the gravel rash, but he thinks thee ought to do it at thine own expense. The old ' Bear is quite disgusted at thee, and if thee don't reform, he will turn thee over to the tender mercies of his cub over the way. The old soldier and D. B—— n not to be so wild about being in Paul Pry, as he has not half done with them yet. You have had everything your own way, you shabby humbugs, for a long time, while the rest dare not look in the stable you two could go and take the horse out. jryou u lemari ^ ai ! aul | j I much business done, whilst his clerks are constat playing with a wench on the opposite^ ide. The- famous John P— f, alias " he Victim, who frequents Allen's, South Mol ton- street, not to make himself the laughing- stock of the room, by his pretend- ing to sing what ne really cannot accomplish. Paul intends visiting Pleet- street when he returns to town, so look out. The goggle- eyed ugly skinny jeweller, not to sit in a certain; house near Greek- street, making remarks , © n people, while he is smoking his short pipe, be- cause we never - see him call for half a- pint, only dipping his ugly beak into other people's pots. Not to boast of himself being good- looking, because Jemmy, no woman with her eyes open will fancy such a miserable object as you. Charley G— dd— s, the conceited little boy, who works at New Broad- street, not to be seen smoking an im- mense meer- sham ( for it is nothing else) pipe, as it does not look well for a little boy. Charley, old boy, how about Topsy and Plash Harry, and your posterior ? Is it well, yet ? Tom S e, not two miles from Mount- street, alias Duke of Limbs, to say what is the reason he don't wear his watch and chain? Paul thinks you had better not lift up the women so frequently. " Can you touch now, my love?" You can't be doing any good in the doorway, so late of an evening. You will find it hard to pay Is. 6d. per week out of 5s. WANDSWORTH, - m— s C— r— t~ r, the noted grocer, not to draw them - hs round in his eyes quite so much, as he will never • 5& akt} himself look handsome, far from it; another thing (^ IpKcannot give correct change, with his hair in his eyes aPmafrtnanner. AM), don't attend the King's- head; how is ftlJMK| tetuff gwf? doht forget the donation. ESHER. fHb11 Billy, BiTTy! thou son of the late brewer at West- Jmd* Paul says there is JpJiarm in thee getting top- BERMONDSEY. Misses Tw— t, the bonnet shop woman, not far from Thornton- street, not to keep people's bonnets so long, or perhaps she will have their husbands after her; she had better look after Billy Tw— rt a little more. THE BEEMONDSEY SNEAKS.— Jem Put— ly, the Lump of Soft Soap, likewise his brother, fat Jack of the bone- house, the packing- case lurcher of Russell- street, not to tell every one they are Paul Pry's agents, and their friends G. Gr— ves, the knock- kneed painter, of Liver- pool- street, and Jos Bar— rett, the trotter- yard clerk, of Chaltley- street. Paul thinks it would look much better for them to stop in their shell of anight, as their mother knows that they have only to crack it, but don't know that they are out yet. Jem P— y, my boy, alias the Lump of Soap, how about the halfpenny glass of ice, on Fish- street Hill ? To the inhabitants of Horsley- down, and the fre- quenters of the Temperance- hall.— Paul intends to make a visit to the above hall on Thursday next. Paul hopes a reserved seat will be kept for him on this occassion, in case he is called on to speak, and have a good supply of water, as he has got a very hot copper. A certain Butcher, not many miles from Thornton- street, not to make such an extensive show of his joints. Paul estimates the lot at three farthings a pound, five pounds on the board. Total 3| d. Ladies and gentleman, old Jemmy begs leave to state that he is instructed by Miss S— lk, to give one of his best St. Michael's oranges, and a free pardon, to anybody that will leaBtto the discovery of the treacherous villain who put h, erWPaul Pry. Apply at the pump, in Potter's- fields. - To the worthy inhabitants of Bermondsey and its vicinity, J. George Br— wn, hereby give notice, that, in consequence of the many times in which myself, Brown, Spry, and Co., have been inserted in this periodical under the varioi^ yaliasses of " Corpse stealers," " High- flier," & c., and my^ ame and character otherwise defamed and made game oa& o hereby give notice to all the agents " f Paul Pry residing in Bermondsey, that, in the event of Jndinfout an. v person so offending, I shall immediately proceed to action, and challenge them to " fight a duel" ( with boxing- gloves), for which I have obtained all the implements necessary, of Spry, of Petticoat- lane, and Rotherliithe. And tp the Messrs. P— tl— y, Gr— v— s, Brr h, and Co., I would most humbly apologise for all past offences, in accusing them of putting me in i" Limbo," i. e. Paul Pry," and by thus publicly express- ing my contrition for the same, I hope I shall continue the same good friends as ever, especially with my old friend James P— tl— y. Imtfttfcant Notice to Teetotallers, and Water Drinkers in Q^^ Ufr— On Friday evening next, at nine o'clock, will he JH^ Kl, at the Temperance- hall, Fair- street, some of tneiwrest specimens of cold water consumers ever seen in the metropolis. The first is the renowned Dick Ph— 11— ps, alias Whiskers, a short, stout, hairy creature, who thinks no small beer of himself. The next will be a long, thin, hairy boy, but who is to be cut, cleaned, and curled for the occasion. Many other fine specimens of the ugly breed will be presented for public inspection ; after which the Neckenger Doll will oblige with some of her ancient melodies, and Miss P— w— 11, by particular desire, will give her much- admired Irish fig. The whole to be wound up with the cries of the Welsh family. ROTHERHITHE. J. St— bb— ngs of the engine house, Lucas- street, not to throw his shoulders about so much, flash the bits of brass, and not to watch the float so, to see the men don't come ashore to get any beer. Paul would like to know what he gets for his situation. Look out, or D— v— ds— n will be on to you ; ta ta for the present, baby. N. B. How about the Jew girl ? STEPNEY. You, my dfear Bill, to propose to the girl at once, and not be so funky. It would not only benefit your health, but she would teach you how to behave yourself in the public streets; also, not to twist your eyes and ass so much, or Paul will take you, dear Billy T— r, in hand, and give you two ounces of shag. Charles M— dw— n— r, of Albert- square, not to be so fond of putting people in Paul Pry, or George H— d— ng will be under the painful necessity of letting people know what a thrashing his father gave him for putting the Miss F ts in. Do not think all the girls in Albert- square are in love with you because they look at you; it is because your face is quite a looking- glass through self- pollution. R. B nk to put on a longer coat; it would look better. We know very well it is your younger brother's. Take Paul's advice, and put your father's coat on. How about the Effingham ? Do you think Paul did'ut see you ? You are in at last, dear Robert, DEPTFORD. Clara F— Ich— r, of Church- street, ( better known a3 snub- nose Clara) not to sneak about after the poor little undertaker who always meant well. Paul would also advise her to beware of the birdcatc^ ier as he intends to trap her as soon as convenient. How about the poor old mot and brandy bottle returning from the exhibition. Paul would like to know in what condition she re- turned her mother's stays, and also what about the two quid a week. Wanted a few conceited fops to complete a company of humbugs, under the title of Poll Mackie, with full particulars. Apply to the flash Butcher- boy, Bill P— rk— s the bulleying chairman, or to Jim F— nch, Secretary.— N. B. None but swells need apply. WOOLWICH. Searjeant II. M— pi— s, not to be so concerned, respect- ing his comrad s, as Paul thinks it would be more to his credit to stick to Mag L— w— s, of the Lord BloomQeld. M. G— d— y, carpenter, not to pay so much attention to the coffee shop girl, of Beresford- street, and to reflect before he interferes with the little girl in black, as raul thinks it will flobergoster his pipe, and make him re- member the Red Lion Tea Gardens. Acting Bombadier, J. D— w— n, not to annoy any female he meets in barracks, and try to make himself agreeable when not asked, as Paul thinks it rather out of place, and also would caution him to beware of the perambulators? William Kn— wl— s. the flash hammerman of the dockyard, with the blue velvet cap, not to be so con- ceited in his dancing atthe Fountain and'RSse three- penny hop Saloons, and not to put respectable people in a horse trough, when he is under strong beer. ^ Thomas C k, of Cage- lane, not to crow so much of his skittle playing at the Red Lion, Plumsted- road, and to use better language in his singing, when he is rolling home of a morning. How is Susan, Tom ? I see you are still a moocher. lotonety, i GRAVESEND. V— y, the Puseyite puppy, of St. Barnabas notoriety,! not to visit the church in Parrock- street so often when in Gravesend, as it is well known that you only go to look after the squalling Emma, and to display the new blue tie purchased pf the hawking hosier by brazen- faced Lydia, for your kindness in forwarding Paul Pry. What— tired or St. Barnabas, Charley; still roaming, eh ? Upper Crust the surly Doughey's wife, not many miles from Lord- street, not to think quite so much of herself, but to be civil to her customers. Do not brag so much about the three puppy dogs away from home be- cause they, like you, think too much of themselves, and come out rather strong for counter- jumpers, and a post- office lacquey. Paul wishes to know where Mis3 L— n— fo— d and her brother George's summer toggery^ s to come from, now the American vessels have left Gravesend. The following fast boys to be more cautious when speaking of him at the Carpenter's Arms, Lord- street; Billy H— ckm— tt, cock laundress-; George L— n— fo— d grave digger; Harry H— lto— s, alias Bacon guts; Billy ST— nee, alias Copaive; Towney La— e, alias Jewels; Tom Ern— st, and Godfrey Ba— nes, billstickers; Teddy Bro— n, alias 6s. 8d.; Harry Sin— ey, alias Wright; Bl— nt, alias Sharp; J. E— ery, alias Barney; Charley B— rker, alias Pup; Charley V— y, Be— nett— te, ana others, as something of very superior taste is in prepara- tion for them, to be taken weekly, say Wednesday third delivery. I'll warm you. ' BATH. Sally A n, not fifty miles from the Railway- station, Twerton, it would look much better if her hair was done in any style but the French style; and it does not look well of poor, paltry dressmakers to go down the New- road to walk, between the hours of nine and twelve, with a bobby. Paul wonders where she gets her cheek from,— a little, insignificant, short- legged, herring- gutted, long- faced pert, like her, with that long- legged, straight- backed, freckle- faced upstart of a bobby. You see Paul has his eye on you. . Miss F— rr, of Henry- street, not to abuse Paul Pry so; it is not his fault that she cannot win the Westgate- street barber. We know she dressed her hair Eugenie style cn purpose to please him. Don't fret, Clara, but get a bloomer— who knows what that may do? Miss K— ng, the work- girl, to draw up the blind round her head ; it is such an awkward length the young men can't see how prettily she squints. We would suggest a little more soft soap to Charley; get him to try and spare you a little seed to try and cultivate a moustache. Miss Q— c— k, a young lady, of Union- street, had better not make herself so cheap, and take such lonely walks with a certain young man, named H— rr— s. Suppose John was to hear of it. Paul thinks it very silly of her to kick up such a fuss, and be so jealous of the fast young lady in the same establishment— Miss H— pk— ns. We are quite certain you both cannot have him. Go back to the Wells, to your dear uncle, before the fast- going man. of a grocer, near Bristol- bridge, gives you the sack. A certain landlord, of St. John's- wood, to look after a certain brewer's clerk, now he is out of luck. You will have to forbid him the house. How about the fit of the blue satin stays, Tom ? Tom S— rg— tt, alias the Lawyer's Long Shot, not to P A U L P R Y . think himself such a large man, as every one knows he is an insignificant, contemptible little puppy. How about the old togs your master made you a present of, and which your fellow clerk's father offered to get made to fit you stunning. He should recollect the order he used to fetch from a house in Queen- square. That soft- headed, chicken- hearted noodle, Harry F— lk— r, should try and behave himself better in com- pany, as it is not very agreeable to hear a young man make use of fast language, or use an oath every time he speaks. He must be an empty- headed coon, or he would not'do so. What have you done with those nobby boots, with the straps across the front, Harry? Don't kick! The bloated- nosed, ugly- mugged Shark's Head, not many miles from the Old Farm House, not to open that . ponderous jaw of his so much to talk about people being in Paul Pry, but to put a little more malt in his beer, as it tastes like sour vinegar sweetened with sugar. A certain shoemaker, not far from Guinea lane, Walcot, the next time he gets lushy not to throw the looking- glass out of the window. Bill, my boy, what will you do the next time you shave. The long herring- gutted Henry H— w— tt, of West- gate- street, who has lately joined the " Anti- Poke Your Nose Into Other Peoples' Business Society," when he goes to certain houses in this city, and is asked for what lie owes them, not to cock his nose up so high, and say— *' Don't insult me!" He need not £> e so spoony oil Lucy Cu— r— s, because she don't care a straw about him; she likes Ginger a great deal more than she does him. To be seen alive, an animal with glass eye^, peeping out of a den; it answers to' the name of Mrs. B. Paul and the public have noticed the dress lately, and believe the cabbage bag has been to work. That old, would- be fast bloke, that crawls along with a wheel- chair, near Morford- street, and answers to the name of E d, not to blind everybody he meets with smoke. Paul is surprised at A. A n allowing his better- half to chastise him if he is out late. Never mind, old cock, you manage to make it up. Thomas R , to let the " Merry Maids of England" out earlier, as the chairmen feel annoyed. The landlord of the Seven Dials, Westgate- street, not to boast so much about giving £ 500 to any chap who chooses to marry either of his daughters; nor about his walks on Sunday afternoons in the Park. It is most likely you go and see Mrs. Spruce. Jack, if the bagatelle board could tell tales what would Miss W. say ? That conceited coxcomb, " William Dy— r, the ex- baker, of Walcot- street, to look after his own business instead of somebody's in North Gate- street. Your moustache is enough to frighten customers away. We do not like to see such things in a baker's shop. The small baker, of Clifton, who recently paid a visit to the Bath Music- hall, to partake of less gin and water, when he next visits there. We have heard this gent made himself look very foolish when singing " My Pretty Jane." How about the pigs, my boy, and the dreadful smell in the concert- room ? To be seen alive at the seed- shop, not many hundred yards from New Bond- street, a sneaking puppy, that answers to the name of Br— d— s— w, alias Hang Cat. How about Miss W , and the pussy, and the trip to London ? Who paid for that, old boy ? BRISTOL. Bill St— ng, the fiddle- player, at the Casino, not to quarrel with brother professionals at the " Vaults," but go heme peaceably. Paul also earnestly advises him to dock that fierce- looking appendage 011 his upper lip, as one so black- dyed certainly does not improve his beauty. How about the potatoes and salt, and the occasional dinner of raw turnips when at Devizes ? William, re- form. A certain fast card, of Castle- street, not to boast to every one that he has managed to get hold of a green old Birmingham bird, whose feathers he intends pluck- ing as long as he will stand it. How about the Insurance Company and the County Court? Have you got that old greasy hat now, you was sporting near the Woods the other day ? Don't forget the half- inch of cigar you picked up at a well- known public, in Castle- street. Have vou got any trapt pigeons, for the Narrow Wine- street hair- dresser ? He wants some few dozen at half- price! Master D— v— s, the law- stationer, of Maudlin- lane, not to be always cramming people that he has had £ 500 left him recently. If so, why not redeem those things that has been at a certain shop in Broadmead so long ? How about the blacking- bottles and the old white hat? Have you seen tho. gray biffin lately ? Don't forget the lark about the tea- gardens, and who upset the quart of milk! Little Nell, the fast young lady, of the Foundry, New- foundland- street, should not flirt so much and fancy she is a woman. Paul would advise her mamma, to put her to bed at half- past seven 011 dancing nights. The little Odd Fellow Davis, conductor of a certain dancing saloon, not twenty miles from Milk- street, to attend to his duties. How about the second- hand scarf, and the breakdown, coming from the " Gardens !" George St— v— 11s, the crack- shaver, of West- street, not to be so proud of his baby. If he takes it so often to Newfoundland- street, it will certainly be devoured by the females. " The little duck!" Ju- a Kn— ht, of St. Paul's, not to be so fond of putting Persons m P. P. and laughing at them. Do you and W. St— v— nsof Narrow Wine- street, meet at the same spot as usual ? Paul thinks Bill could a tale unfold that would make you laugh another way. Paul is anxiously waiting the appearance on the Bristol boards of that renowned comedian ( amateur), Re— h— ie, whose career in the fair city of Gloster must have been very satisfactory to himself, almost as satisfactory as was his departure to his friends. Com- munications addressed, care of Tailor and Co! will have attention. The well- known L. O. G., printer, of Marsh- street no- toriety, to behave himself, and not deal out wholesale intuits and gross remarks upon his betters, both in man- ners and education. Do you forget the dressing you got the other day at the hands of a profsssional singer. How about Cousin Brown and the trip to Dunba. ll Island? A certain postman, and occasional waiter at the Mary- le- port Singing- room, not to be so fond of making fun of amateurs, when they do their best to please. Such con- duct is unbecoming and ungentlemanly. We hope this worthy will take the hint, and act better for the future. We have done this for his good and the benefit of the, room. The flash grocer, of Bristol- bridge, we mean the gent who sports the nobby stick and does a cigar in Union- street occasionally, the next time he writes to Paul to put his real name'and address. Have you seen the little Jewess lately; my lovely blade, aint it stunning to get a line from an unknown spirit. How about the peas the other Sunday, and the warm mutton. Be very careful, my boy, we intend to watch your whereabouts very closely. Be on your guard, there's a good fellow. The stationer, of Church- lane, Old Market- street, not to be always boasting that he can sing the best comic song of any'one who visits the King- street singing- room. Old boy, have you forgot the twelve in the cab, and old Burges 011 the box to make the th? rteen, We hear an officer is after you for a charge of cruelty to animals. A certain bookseller, of Tower- hill, not to give way to day tipling. We hear that this fast gent has been coming it rather strong of late. How about the walk to Kevnsom, and the lady with the black face ? To be seen alive, sometimes in Picton- street, but oftener in the society of a certain fast French lady, a brainless, penny less fool, goes by the name of Charles C— b— ge, who tries, when in company with gentlemen, to ape their manners, but only makes himself a laughing • stock for them. Paul would advise him to look out for some respectable employment, which would be more to his credit then being kept by lady's. Charley, how about Allen's ea iug- house in Temple- street ? Take care else Paul will give you another poke with his gingham. Open daily. To be seen alive, at a certain hat manu- facturdi's, Wine- street, arare specimen ofEnglish beauty, not to be equalled in all Europe. Admission 3d. This overgrown peacock answers to the name of Lizzy. Per- sons visiting are requested not to step on her tail, or else she may bite. Tickets may be had at George B g— ss, Narrow Wine- s'reet; Sam P c— ck, Bridge- striet, and at the Potatoe Stores, Tower- hill. GLOUCESTER. Paul was in an obscure corner of the up- stairs room at the City Arms, when Jo— n Org— n favoured the company with a song, and would have offered him a few friendly hints had he not appeared so thoroughly obfuscated as to be quite incapable of understanding. John, my chick, take warning, " a stitch in time saves nine.". Miss M— ri— nne H— n— s is recommended to " keep the portal of her 1 ips with wary silence barred," as the hedges and gates in the neighbourhood of Wotton have ears. Remember eleven o'clock, my dear; remember love, remember. You understand, of course. No song, no supper. Ed— d Pa— k— r, not Packthread, one of the Gloster " perambulators," to conduct himself with more pro- priety at the next pic nic he attends. Paul has his eye on you, and recollects the fete champetre and the victory turn up. Fie! Teddy, fie ! HERSHAM. That domineering, jeering, " Pauper and Impostor," to show more gratitude, and less independence, as the gentry are supporting him entirely out of charity, aud the neighbours continually assisting him in pecuniary collections, merely to keep him out of the Union. Did you ever but know what a fool and object you look when stuck on that green, at cricket, and hear the remarks which are made on the subject, or rather, objec:, you'd very soon retire. Bear in mind the neighbours do not assist paupers in their " collection?," for the purpose of their donations being spent in cricket, beer- shops, and public- houses. You had better apply it at home, or if not needed there, rub a little off your creditor's accounts. NEWPORT. Father Sheb— d, bookbinder, at the large shop, near the town- hall, not to be always boasting that he is the best workman in all Newport. Have you seen the rule maker, from Bristol, my tulip. How about the Mormons and the stout lady near the post office. A Certain news- agent, of Commercial- street, not to be always contending that he is the finest- looking man in the town; have you seen the lady with the red hair lately. How about the young grocer, and the large lumps of white sugar. PLYMOUTH. Fred W— lk— s, the sausage- maker's lop, of Chapel- street, Stonehouse, not to have his name so frequently hoisted on the boards of the Coronation Inn, as he does not think the girls that visit that house are fit company for him; neither to boast so much of his Bagatelle playing at Stonehouse, as Paul is informed that he is quite a tool for the board. Fred, old boy, how about the thirteen pence and the tripe girl under the hoe. Be advised Fred, or if you carry on so you must expect another poke from Paul's gingham, DEVON PORT. Sam C— 11— r and Dolly B— If— d, when they go up the river again with the PnUanthropic Societv, not to get so jolly drunk and spoil their white hats, especially when the rest of their party are having a grin at them. We mean the Misses Jane, Fanny, and Minnie P—' s, also R, W— t, G. Sh— r, and II. C— 1— h— ole. We were surprised to find that Minnie, alias Grandmamma, went up the river with II. 0— 1— h— ole and lefb her dearly beloved II. S. at home. We expect he was ashamed to go with such a common lot, and we are ver. v glad to find that he staid out of such a party. We were there, and was really disgusted with the whole of you, the ladies of course, excepted. John A s, a shipwright's apprentice, who is in the habit of perambulating Fore- street with Miss D r, the walking lamp post, who is always round the Raglan Barracks, in company with Emelia Bry— nt. Give them a touch about the two corporals in the Artillery. Miss Caroline, alias Thick! ips, not to run after the horse sol- diers so much. Better min i her st lystitching. Dear Paul, do give D— nne, the conceited little barber of Marlborough- street, a poke with your magic gingham; concerning the two poor boys, whose hair he refused to cut; also, about his asking a certain person to have a glass of wine, on the occasion of his marriage, and there being none in the bottle. Dear Paul, it will be a charity to the inhabitants of Geake's- alley, if you denounce a nuisance . in the form of a lame shoemaker, named Henry H— ndl^- y, who has compared himself with Signor Lablache; he is a perfect torment to every one he, comes in contact with, singing till one or two o'clock in the morning. MORICE- TOWN. Tom W— se had better mind what he is about, aud not show Paul Pry with Mary Tr—' v— ns name in it to every one with whom he is, acquainted; we did think he had a little of the gentleman in him, but the above proves what a poor, spoony, dirty, and despicable fellow he is. Mary should feel obliged to us for her poke, as she has now dis- covered what a miserable fellow- it was she has been trying to take to her arms. Mary you had better wait and be wooed, not woo, for you are sure to catch a tartar if you do not mend. Has your brothers, the barber or ship- wright a pair of breeches to lend— if so, borrow them, they better become you than the petticoat. HULL. Miss J— cks— n, a servant girl, not one liundrei m'les from Neptune- street, not to wear . blue barnacles as she walks through the streets, and set herself up above her mistress. Beware, my dear girl, or we shall let the pig out of the poke. John B— k— r, alias Bandy- legged Jack, not a hundred miles from Worship- street, not to be seen dodging after the little dressmaker, that goes by the name of the litble flirt, not ten miles from Francis- street, West. Mind what you are about, Johnny, Paul has his eye on you. How about the Anlaby- road affair, and the plated guard? Take advice in time and improve in your walking. Paul would also advise you to take a few lessons in dancing, if yon wish to krep. up the connection. Francis B— c— w— t— h, alias the Myton- gate Gost, to look after some work, and not to send his wife out to the wash tub, that she may earn money, that he may bet 011 horse racing, which he knows nothing about, that he can say afoer a race is run, did I not tell you which horse would win. Don't" give your kids so much pea meal, unless you are in a burial club. Poor things, have you any tips. Miss D— w— s— n, of Plumber Dock- side, not to lean out of the window all day long, poking, what she thinks is fun with that young woman next door, at the passers by; it really does not look well to see girls like you spend your time in idleness; 3* ou might be b3tter engaged mending stockings. How about Spring- bank and the apples. Leave off this nasty habit, or you shall have another stir with our gingham. Those two worn out girls, nob a hundred yards from Christ Church, not to imagine the officers of the Cornwallis are caught. How m ich did you give for the portrait of the victim. Has the Withorrisea trip paid. The shinning light, or oattern young man, at La— b— t and S— th's office, uot to think he will go free; don't be so impertinent 10 th> youngsters. The Miss Hu— p— y's are great admirers of your style. T. Wh— tl— y, is to mind and speak the truth for the future. What about the horse- whipping you got. Re- member when Jack is from home Gill is left to look after all stray Donkeys that come on the pasture. Thomas E— sla- dy, butcher, not a hundred miles from the church, not to boast how many girls he was with at the Zoological gardens. Tom, my boy, a still tongue makes a wise head. Misses Nancy K— n— d- y, aud Rosa H— w- tt, not to walk the market placc. Rosa, my girl, what about Bill St— a— d- le. . To be seen alive, one of the monkey tribe, in hi9 cage, not fifty yards from the Punch Hotel; answers to the name of W. Sp— c— r. This is a very rare . specimen and is well worth a visit. Feeding time 5 o'clock. P A U L P E Y. Miss D b, the beauty of the family, not to th'nk that those who smile are irrevocably caught; remember the long- tail prey coat. Mother Bro— 11' s does not quite suit, find a better. Was it cash for the Cottingham- lane affair. That stout, pig- headed errand boy, Sam— 1 F— s— w, not to imagine that he is protected from the gingham ; here you are at last.. You, like your brother Gr— av— 1, have been expelled society for a like action. PAUL'S PEEP INTO HULL, AND THE POLK " WHAT'S IN IT. ( Concluded from our last.) " While in Paragon- street I gave a call At the well- known " Neptune Concert- hall;" But soon found out the hole in the wall, When Stanfield, the nautical, began to bawl. I next popt into poor Bob St— rks, And found an end put to his larks: Coming out saw Charley B— 11 Leaning up again the wall. Keep your pecker up, Charley, never fear, But you'll make Anthony G— dfr— y feel queer, And tho' you lost the battle once, Teach him he won it but by chance. Coming along down Waterworks- street, I heard a tremendous voice repeat, " An auction ! an auction!" ' Twas Nut Jack, and I thought I'd crack Laughing at his humpty- dumpty back, And his crooked legs in motion. While here, I just crossed over the way A visit to " Lord Raglan " to pay, And this for Broughton's stout must say, ' Twas the best I'd tasted for many a day. Cross'd Monument- bridge, and journeying on, Met H. D— v— 1, the " son of song." Harry, you'd cut far greater dash, Minus whiskers, beard, and moustache; But if I was you each cove I'd smash, Who said aught about " animated blacking- brush ;' But people will talk, and talk true, too, About that little girl in blue; Tou remember her among the lot Of your " heart's queens " you've sent to pot; And then, to smother up all fears That mammas may have for their dears, You sing that song, you thorough knave, " Fear not, Britannia's honour's safe." One word more, I'll then shut up— I think you are a regular pup; ." Now do associate more with men, ustead of children just turned ten. Luoh nigKt your curious tricks I spy, And unless to mend you quickly try, The next time I am in your town I'll try again to put you down. Now into the " Packet" I must peep, And to Ebenezer a few words speak. Next Saturday, when the " Hull Times" comes out, Don't make young Hawley turn about To see what's in his pocket! Even if he'd got a penny " Times," It wasn't one of the blackest crimes; Besides, Ebenezer, you must know You can't make nine apprentices go Quicker than a rocket. When you'd that druggist shop in Myton- gate, You might, if one of your lads came late, Give him a dose which would'make him fly: But this among printers you never need try. Passing " the Packet," was obliged to stop To look at B— rt— s bran new shop; ' Tis a stunning crib, Dough cy, but why don't they pull The next shop down, ' tis a disgrace to Hull- To see ' tween the New Bank and your new shop A crib without any tiles on thetop. Passed on to the Corporation- pier, Heard some younkers sing out, " Matilda, my dear." Turning round, saw a swell with black whiskers and hair, And tho' they call him Matilda, they can't say he's fair. O'C— nn— r, you're a fool to be chasing about Little kids every time they indulge in a shout, And for ramping and tearing about that there song, And saying you'll find out who wrote it ere long. You can't do it, Matilda, so keep yourself quiet. Go less on the pier and home sooner at night. I can't stay any longer, the bell has rung twice— Good- bye, my hearties, I'll be back in a trice ; And tho' not among you, I've my eye on you all, And the next time I'm passing shall give you a call. NEWCASTLE. Poll O'N— 1, not to boast so much of her Fred in front of Barber's bar. LauraB— 11, not to find gold rings; even if they are lost, she should take them to the station- house. Lizzy Cr— zi— r, not to come out so much at nights. Let her look to this, and beware of the fate of Polly Tu— n— r. Anne G1— n— y to pay the rent of the house in Cam- den- street, and for the dresses she had of Miss Thorn. Polly Au— ck— nd to mind her own business, and not to run down girls behind their backs. Nelly R— ss, not to get so drunk every night, and to cut the society of the counter- jumper, as he never has a shilling in his pocket, and is well- known as a bilk. George D— x— on, alias Skin Dick, not to flash so much in Elswick- lane, with that sixpenny hat of his. Georgy, where does the tin come from ? Jenny It— p not to get obfuscated, as it is a nuisance to hear her speak about Bill C— n— gh— m, the medical student. Polly M— ff— tt, better known as Mrs. C— rr, not to boast about having so many betting men running after her. Bessy B— we not to cut it quite so fat, as it is well- known her father is a bill- sticker. Chaggy H— m— le, not to be so spoony upon the Nobby Douglas, as he wants nothing to say to her; I'll caulk that nut. Grace P— i— y, not to boast about going to Edinboro' w ith Pollv F— x, as Paul knows she was in Morpeth at the time. 1 Jenny D— ck— ns— n, not ' to bite the policeman's arm the next time she's taken to the station. Mr. B ' s concert singers, not to be so much annoyed at having a poke Avith the ginghham, but we beg to say wre never give up the name of our correspondent, and that we " nothing extenuate or set down aught in malice." The severe castigation a certain lady got, she brought on herself. When a lady sits in the green- room, and tells the frequenters that she took lessons in acting from Mr. Edward Stirling, and that he was going to bring her out at Drury- lane Theatre as Lagly Macbeth, we, of course, expected something very extraordinary in her acting. Now, we know Blue Beard Smith to be fond of curiosi- ties in the female line, but she would not even do for him, unless she was like Miss Julia Pastrana, now to be seen at the Regent Gallery. Let her rememt^ r that, when gentlemen come to the green- room they do not want to heay the merits and demerits of the singers. The idea of saying, every lady in London says that Mr. Aikens is a far better singer than Sam Cowell, or Mr. Ross, or Paddy M'Gowan! This woman, who presumes to pass her opinion, after all, is only a novice. Truly, her sister and brother " professionals" ought to be very much obliged to her. If Mr. Ross ever sang in a penny gaff in the Salt Market, in Glasgow, we have a picture drawn of a Scotch novice, running about the Salt Market, getting pence to go and hear him. We are determined to expose all those professionals who cruelly run down each other. We intend to give a sketch of all the con- cert- rooms in England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales, and to expose vice wherever we meet it. PARISIAN BELLES. SCENES from FAST LIFE in the FRENCH CAPITAL.— These Stereoscopic Slides ofthe volup- tuous Women of Paris, taken from superb Models, are now to be bbtained singly or in sets. Single Slide, 5s.; Sets of Twenty, £ 4 4s. Highly- coloured, 2s. per Slide extra. Post free. Stamps| taken as cash. Address, A. J., 4, Harpur- street, Red Lion- square, London. N. B. A Catalogue, descriptive of these warm Gems, sent on receipt of Six stamps, and a stamped envelope. TO THE FAIR SEX. T TALI AN PICTURES of BEAUTY. — - L No. I. sent on receipt of Fourteen stamps. Address, Edward Robson, Post- office, St. Martin's- le- Graud London. TO GENTLEMEN ONLY. THE CHIEF BARON'S last Poetical effu- sion is the most intensely- exciting and raciest song ever penned. It can be had by enclosing Thirteen post- age stamps to R. Nicholson, 23, Fetter- lane, Fleet- street, London. Now ready, price One Penny, No. 6 of THE COCKNEY TALES. HENRY YOUNO, 5, Whitefriars- street, Fleet- street London. ADVERTISEMENTS. RAGLAN HAIL, THEOBALD'S ROAD. lEOl'L E'S CONCERTS EVERY EVENING at SEVEN. BEVERLEY. J— hn Gr— o— s, Prick- a- loose, not to be so self- con- ceited, and think himself superior to everybody else, as we can see nothing in him to brag about. J Mr. B- y— le the ninth part of a man, near the church, uot to make promises which he does not intend to per- form. Beware old boy, or Paul may say something that may not meet with your approval. J— hn R— od, not far away from Minster- Moor- gate, to take more raw eggs before going into the orchestra of the chapel of ease, of a Sunday, as his voice is uncom- monly thick and husky, and needs some clearing process. CoxtrNDETTM.— Why does Beverley gas works stink more than any other?— Because there is a fox hole at | the entrance. T) OYAL GARDENS, CAMBERWELL.— XV The Largest Ball Room in London. T) OYAL GARDENS, CAMBERWELL- XV New Dancing Platform. Adams' Splendid Band. TJOYAL GARDENS, CAMBERWELL, JLV Wyndham- road. Open Free daily, from Four till Seven; after that hour, Sixpence each. Grand Band every Sunday. Open at Four, by Refreshment Card, Sixpence. DANCING HIGHBURY BARN. EVERY EVENING at 7. NEPTUNE CONCERT HALL. THE PEOPLE'S TEMPLE of AMUSE- MENT, Paragon- street, Hull, open • very evening at 7 o'clock. A first- rateentertainment; admission— by refreshment ticket 3d. each. Refreshments of the best quality, at Tavern prices. A first- class Smoking and Bagatelle- room. READ THIS! Woman, with nearly TOO Plates 60 Stamps. A Book for the Wicked, with Plates 50 Stamps. 100 Spicy Songs, with Plates SO Stamps. A Secret Book, with Plates 30 Stamps. Private Secrets for Young Men and Women 20 Stamps. A Bundle of Racy Readings, with Plates 20 Stamps. Woman's Love, and a Pocket Book gratis ... 20 Stamps. A Peep at a Secret Curiosity 12 Stamps. A New Pocket Songster 12 Stamps. Address— H. H., care of the News Agent, 23, Peter- street, Bristol. Was published, on Wednesday, August 4th, in an illus- trated wrapper, price Twopence, free by post for three stamps, second collection of THE PAUL PRY SONGSTER; or, FUNNY CHANTERS' COMPANION; being a new and original collection of jocose, laughable, out- and- out, slap- up, facetious, funny, fast, satirical, and laughter- moving chants, pitched in the most popular staves, containing among others— Fat, Fair, and Frisky, a frolicsome ditty— The Princess's Marriage; or, Gold v. German Sausages— John Delf, the Lucky Chinaman— The Kew Buss— We're all Metal; or, the Man in a Metalliferus view— Paul Pry; or Sayings and Doings— Very Genteel— Bet, the Coaley's Daughter; or theWopping Creature— After many Working Hours— The Nob of Former Days; a nobby chant— The Irish Major; or the ( h) oddest fellow alive— Billy Bumps and Mary Ann Gore; or, a gore that raised a severe bump on Billy Bump's Heart— All Truth and no Lies; or, Flies in the Porridge Pot— By Dint of Penetration; or deep insight into things in general. As the first budget of Paul Pry's songs gave universal satisfaction to the knowing ones, the editors have much pleasure in submitting the second, which, for pungency, wit, and good humour, will far outstrip its predecessor. Only a very limited number of this edition will be published, and it is therefore necessary that all who desire to be in possession of that which they cannot obtain elsewhere, had better give their orders at once. Now's your time, the only fun inthe fare. Give your orders at once. Sent direct from the office for one stamp extra. Just out, THE LIFE and SECRET DOINGS of a WICKED WOMAN. Post free, 30 stamps. Every person sending for the above astounding Work, during the present month, will be presented with a Private Pocket- book gratis. Address, Henry Mills, Esq., care of the bookseller, 5, Sims'- alley, Bristol. JUST PUBLISHED, Price 2s. 6d.; or Free by Post, 36 Stamps, THE LIFE of a LADY'S MAID. Cata- logues for 2 Stamps. J. HIGDEX, 53, Holy well- street, Strand. ( W. C.) No. IV. now ready. PHOTOGRAPHIC PICTURES of FEMALE BEAUTY, may be had by sending thirty stamps to Emile Delattre, General Post- office, St. Martin's- le- Grand. N. B. A new Picture every week. Nos. 1, 2, and 3 can still be had. D1 HAPPINESS OR MISERY. TO PREVENT DISAPPOINTMENT IN MARRIAGE, AND UNHAPPINESS AT HOME, R. DTXON, AUTHOR OF " YOUTH'S CONTROL; or, IMPORTANT SECRETS" ( Free by Post for Eight Postage Stamps), who, from many years' Hospital and Private Practice, guarantees to cure m the shortest possible time, for a Stipulated Sum, all SECRET and SKIN DISEASES, Nervous Debility, Ac. Consultations, Daily, from Ten till Four, a. m., and Six till Ten, p. m. Letters ( post paid) stating full particu- lars, immediately answered, and Female Complaints at- tendedto. Address— Dr. Dixon, 168, Tooley Street, London Bridge, London. LONDON :— Printed and Published, for the Proprietor, by HENRY YOCNO, at the Office, 5, " Whitefriar's Street, Fleet Street, London, where all communications to the Editor are to be addressed.