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SCENE I.
SCENE I.
"Walked twenty miles over night: up before peep o' day again got a capital place; fell fast asleep; tide rose up to my knees; my hat was changed, my pockets picked, and a fish ran away with my hook; dreamt of being on a Polar expedition and having my toes frozen." O! IZAAK WALTON!—Izaak Walton!—you have truly got me into a precious line, and I certainly deserve the rod for having, like a gudgeon, so greedily devoured the delusive bait, which you, so temptingly, threw out to catch the eye of my p
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SCENE II.
SCENE II.
A lark—early in the morning. Two youths—and two guns appeared at early dawn in the suburbs. The youths were loaded with shooting paraphernalia and provisions, and their guns with the best Dartford gunpowder—they were also well primed for sport—and as polished as their gunbarrels, and both could boast a good 'stock' of impudence. "Surely I heard the notes of a bird," cried one, looking up and down the street; "there it is again, by jingo!" "It's a lark, I declare," asserted his brother sportsman.
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SCENE III.
SCENE III.
"You shall have the paper directly, Sir, but really the debates are so very interesting." "Oh! pray don't hurry, Sir, it's only the scientific notices I care about." WHAT a thrill of pleasure pervades the philanthropic breast on beholding the rapid march of Intellect! The lamp-lighter, but an insignificant 'link' in the vast chain of society, has now a chance of shining at the Mechanics', and may probably be the means of illuminating a whole parish. Literature has become the favourite pursuit of
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SCENE IV.
SCENE IV.
"Oh! Sally, I told my missus vot you said your missus said about her."— "Oh! and so did I, Betty; I told my missus vot you said yourn said of her, and ve had sich a row!" SALLY. OH! Betty, ve had sich a row!—there vas never nothink like it;— I'm quite a martyr. To missus's pranks; for, 'twixt you and me, she's a bit of a tartar. I told her vord for vord everythink as you said, And I thought the poor voman vould ha' gone clean out of her head! BETTY. Talk o' your missus! she's nothink to mine,—I
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SCENE V.
SCENE V.
"How does it fit behind? O! beautful; I've done wonders—we'll never trouble the tailors again, I promise them." IT is the proud boast of some men that they have 'got a wrinkle.' How elated then ought this individual to be who has got so many! and yet, judging from the fretful expression of his physiognomy, one would suppose that he is by no means in 'fit' of good humour. His industrious rib, however, appears quite delighted with her handiwork, and in no humour to find the least fault with the lo
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SCENE VI.
SCENE VI.
"Catching—a cold." WHAT a type of true philosophy and courage is this Waltonian! Cool and unmoved he receives the sharp blows of the blustering wind—as if he were playing dummy to an experienced pugilist. Although he would undoubtedly prefer the blast with the chill off, he is so warm an enthusiast, in the pursuit of his sport, that he looks with contempt upon the rude and vulgar sport of the elements. He really angles for love—and love alone—and limbs and body are literally transformed to a ser
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SCENE VII.
SCENE VII.
"Help! help! Oh! you murderous little villin? this is vot you calls rowing, is it?—but if ever I gets safe on land again, I'll make you repent it, you rascal. I'll row you—that I will." "MISTER Vaterman, vot's your fare for taking me across?" "Across, young 'ooman? vy, you looks so good-tempered, I'll pull you over for sixpence?" "Are them seats clean?" "O! ker-vite:—I've just swabb'd 'em down." "And werry comfortable that'll be! vy, it'll vet my best silk?" "Vatered silks is all the go. Vel! ve
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CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER I.
The Invitation—the Outfit—and the sallying forth. TO Mr. AUGUSTUS SPRIGGS, AT Mr. WILLIAMS'S, GROCER, ADDLE STREET. (Tower Street, 31st August, 18__) My dear Chum, Dobbs has give me a whole holiday, and it's my intention to take the field to-morrow—and if so be you can come over your governor, and cut the apron and sleeves for a day—why "Together we will range the fields;" and if we don't have some prime sport, my name's not Dick, that's all. I've bought powder and shot, and my cousin which is S
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CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER II.
The Death of a little Pig, which proves a great Bore! "Now let's load and prime—and make ready," said Mr. Richard, when they had entered an extensive meadow, "and—I say—vot are you about? Don't put the shot in afore the powder, you gaby!" Having charged, they shouldered their pieces and waded through the tall grass. "O! crikey!—there's a heap o' birds," exclaimed Spriggs, looking up at a flight of alarmed sparrows. "Shall I bring 'em down?" "I vish you could! I'd have a shot at 'em," replied Mr.
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CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER III.
The Sportsmen trespass on an Enclosure—Grubb gets on a paling and runs a risk of being impaled. "Twig them trees?"—said Grubb. "Prime!" exclaimed Spriggs, "and vith their leaves ve'll have an hunt there.—Don't you hear the birds a crying 'sveet,' 'sveet?' Thof all birds belong to the Temperance Society by natur', everybody knows as they're partic'larly fond of a little s'rub!" "Think ve could leap the ditch?" said Mr. Richard, regarding with a longing look the tall trees and the thick underwood.
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CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER IV.
Shooting a Bird, and putting Shot into a Calf! "ON'Y think ven ve thought o' getting into a preserve—that ve got into a pickle," said Sprigg, still chuckling over their last adventure. "Hush!" cried Grubb, laying his hand upon his arm—"see that bird hopping there?" "Ve'll soon make him hop the twig, and no mistake," remarked Spriggs. "There he goes into the 'edge to get his dinner, I s'pose." "Looking for a 'edge-stake, I dare say," said the facetious Spriggs. "Now for it!" cried Grubb! "pitch i
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CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER V.
An extraordinary Occurrence—a Publican taking Orders. TYING the legs of the birds together with a piece of string, Spriggs proudly carried them along, dangling at his fingers' ends. After tramping for a long mile, the friends at length discovered, what they termed, an house of "hentertainment." Entering a parlour, with a clean, sanded floor, (prettily herring-boned, as the housemaids technically phrase it,) furnished with red curtains, half a dozen beech chairs, three cast-iron spittoons, and a
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CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VI.
The Reckoning. "PULL the bell, Spriggs," said Mr. Richard, "and let's have the bill." Mr. Augustus Spriggs obeyed, and the landlord appeared. "Vot's to pay?" "Send you the bill directly, gentlemen," replied the landlord, bowing, and trundling out of the room. The cook presently entered, and laying the bill at Mr. Grubb's elbow, took off the remnants of the 'game,' and left the sportsmen to discuss the little account. "My eye! if this ain't a rum un!" exclaimed Grubb, casting his dilating oculars
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CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VII.
A sudden Explosion—a hit by one of the Sportsmen, which the other takes amiss. A blustering wind arose, and like a burly coachman on mounting his box, took up the rain! The two crouching friends taking advantage of the cessation in the storm, prepared to start. But in straightening the acute angles of their legs and arms, Mr. Sprigg's piece, by some entanglement in his protecting garb, went off, and the barrel striking Mr. Grubb upon the os nasi, stretched him bawling on the humid turf. "O! Lord
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SCENE IX.
SCENE IX.
"Shoot away, Bill! never mind the old woman—she can't get over the wall to us."...
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SCENE X.
SCENE X.
SEPTEMBER 1ST,—AN ONLY OPPORTUNITY. "I begin to think I may as well go back." A ladle, I might as well be, Chain'd fast to a hold parish pump, For, by goles! it comes tumbling down, Like vinking,—and all of a lump. The birds to their nestes is gone, I can't see no woodcock, nor snipe; My dog he looks dogged and dull, My leggins is flabby as tripe! The moors is all slipp'ry slush, I'm up to the neck in the mire; I don't see no chance of a shot, And I long-how I long for a fire! For my clothes is
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SCENE XI.
SCENE XI.
"Mother says fishes comes from hard roes, so I chuck'd in the roe of a red-herring last week, but I doesn't catch any fish yet." How beautiful is the simplicity of unsophisticated youth! Behold with what patience this innocent awaits a bite, trusting with perfect faith in the truth of his affectionate mother's ichthyological knowledge. Wishing to behold a live fish dangling at the end of his line, he has, with admirable foresight, drawn up the bucket, that in the ascent the finny prey may not ki
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SCENE XII.
SCENE XII.
Ambition. "He was ambitious, and I slew him." WHAT carried Captain Ross to the North Pole? "A ship to be sure!" exclaims some matter-of-fact gentleman. Reader! It was AMBITION! What made barber Ross survey the poll, make wigs, and puff away even when powder was exploded? What caused him to seek the applause of the 'nobs' among the cockneys, and struggle to obtain the paradoxical triplicate dictum that he was a werry first-rate cutter!' What made him a practical Tory? (for he boasts of turning ou
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SCENE XIII.
SCENE XIII.
Better luck next time. The lamentation of Joe Grishin. "O! Molly! Molly! ven I popp'd my chops through the arey railings, and seed you smile, I thought you vos mine for ever! I wentur'd all for you—all—. It war'n't no great stake p'r'aps, but it was a tender vun! I offer'd you a heart verbally, and you said 'No!' I writ this ere wollentine, and you returns it vith a big 'No!' "O! Molly your 'No's,' is more piercinger and crueller than your heyes. Me! to be used so:—Me! as refused the vidder at t
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SCENE XIV.
SCENE XIV.
Don't you be saucy, Boys "WHAT are you grinning at, boys?" angrily demanded an old gentleman seated beside a meandering stream, of two schoolboys, who were watching him from behind a high paling at his rear.—"Don't you know a little makes fools laugh." "Yes, sir! that's quite true, for we were laughing at what you've caught!" "Umph! I tell you what, my lads, if I knew your master, I'd pull you up, and have you well dressed." "Tell that to the fishes," replied the elder, "when you do get a bite!"
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SCENE XV.
SCENE XV.
"Vy, Sarah, you're drunk! I am quite ashamed o' you." "Vell, vots the odds as long as you're happy!" JACK was an itinerant vender of greens, and his spouse was a peripatetic distributor of the finny tribe, (sprats, herrings or mackerel, according to the season,) and both picked up a tolerable livelihood by their respective callings. Like the lettuces he sold, Jack had a good heart, and his attention was first attracted to the subsequent object of his election by the wit of a passing boy, who ask
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SCENE XVI.
SCENE XVI.
"Lawk a'-mercy! I'm going wrong! and got to walk all that way back again." A PEDESTRIAN may get robbed of his money on the highway, but a cross-road frequently robs him of time and patience; for when haply he considers himself at his journey's end, an impertinent finger-post, offering him the tardy and unpleasant information that he has wandered from his track, makes him turn about and wheel about, like Jim Crow, in anything but a pleasant humor. It were well if every wayfarer were like the sail
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SCENE XVII.
SCENE XVII.
"I'm dem'd if I can ever hit 'em." IT is a most extraordinary thing, 'pon my veracity: I go out as regularly as the year, and yet I never bring down an individual bird. I have one of the best Mantons going with such a bore! and then I use the best shot—but not being the best shot in the world myself—I suppose is the identical reason why I never hit any thing. I think it must arise from a natural defect in my sight; for when I suppose a covey as near—as my miser of an uncle—they are probably as d
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SCENE XVIII.
SCENE XVIII.
"Have you read the leader in this paper, Mr. Brisket?" "No! I never touch a newspaper; they are all so werry wenal, and Ovoid of sentiment!" BOB. O! here's a harticle agin the fools, Vich our poor British Nation so misrules: And don't they show 'em up with all their tricks— By gosh! I think they'd better cut their sticks; They never can surwive such cuts as these is! BRISKET. It's werry well; but me it never pleases; I never reads the news, and sees no merit In anythink as breathes a party sperr
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SCENE XIX.
SCENE XIX.
AN EPISTLE FROM SAMUEL SOFTLY, ESQ. TO HIS FRIEND, RICHARD GUBBINS, ESQ. OF TOOLEY STREET. O! DICK! Such a misfortin' has you never heard on as come upon your friend. I'll jist give you a breef houtline of the circumstantials as near as my flurry vill let me. T'other mornin' I vips up my gun for to go a-shootin', and packin' up my hammunition, and some sanwidges, I bids adoo to this wile smoky town, vith the intention of gettin' a little hair. Vell! on I goes a-visshin' and thinkin' on nothin',
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SCENE XX.
SCENE XX.
The Courtship of Mr. Wiggins. AMONG the very few fashionable foibles to which Mr. Wiggins was addicted, was the smoking of cigars. Attracted by the appearance of a small box marked 'Marylands—one penny each,' very much resembling lettuce-leaves with the yellow jaundice, he walked into the chandler's shop where they were displayed. "Let us look at them cigars," said he, and then, for the first time, glancing at the smart, good-looking mistress of the emporium, he added, "if you please, ma'am—" "C
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SCENE XXI.
SCENE XXI.
The Courtship of Mr. Wiggins. Mr. Wiggins was so intoxicated with love, brandy-and-water and cigars, that he scarcely knew how he reached home. He only remembered that he was very dizzy, and that his charming widow—his guide and friend—had remonstrated with him upon the elevation of his style, and the irregularity of his progression. With his head in his hand, and a strong "dish of tea" without milk, before him, he was composing himself for business the following morning, when an unexpected visi
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SCENE XXII.
SCENE XXII.
The Itinerant Musician. A WANDERING son of Apollo, with a shocking bad hat, encircled by a melancholy piece of rusty crape, and arrayed in garments that had once shone with renovated splendour in that mart of second-hand habiliments 'ycleped Monmouth-street, was affrighting the echoes of a fashionable street by blowing upon an old clarionet, and doing the 'Follow, hark!' of Weber the most palpable injustice. The red hand of the greasy cook tapped at the kitchen-window below, and she scolded inau
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SCENE XXIII.
SCENE XXIII.
Oh! lor, here's a norrid thing.' The Confessions of a Sportsman. "VELL, for three year, as sure as the Septembers comes, I takes the field, but somehow or another I never takes nothin' else! My gun's a good 'un and no mistake!—Percussions and the best Dartford, and all that too. My haim ain't amiss neither; so there's a fault somewhere, that's certain. The first time as I hentered on the inwigorating and manly sport, I valks my werry legs off, and sees nothin' but crows and that 'ere sort o' sma
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THE JOLLY ANGLERS.
THE JOLLY ANGLERS.
On a grassy bank, beside a meandering stream, sat two gentlemen averaging forty years of age. The day was sultry, and, weary of casting their lines without effect, they had stuck their rods in the bank, and sought, in a well-filled basket of provisions and copious libations of bottled porter, to dissipate their disappointment. "Ain't this jolly? and don't you like a day's fishing, Sam?" "O! werry much, werry much," emphatically replied his friend, taking his pipe from his mouth. "Ah! but some pe
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THE BILL-STICKER.
THE BILL-STICKER.
What a mysterious being is the bill-sticker! How seldom does he make himself visible to the eyes of the people. Nay, I verily believe there are thousands in this great metropolis that never saw a specimen. We see the effect, but think not of the cause. He must work at his vocation either at night or at early dawn, before the world is stirring. That he is an industrious being, and sticks to business, there cannot be the shadow of a doubt, for every dead-wall is made lively by his operations, and
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OLD FOOZLE.
OLD FOOZLE.
There is a certain period of life beyond which the plastic mind of man becomes incapable of acquiring any new impressions. He merely elaborates and displays the stores he has garnered up in his youth. There are indeed some rare exceptions to the rule; but few, very few, can learn a language after the age of forty. 'Tis true that Cowper did not commence the composition of his delightful poems till he had attained that age; but then it must be remembered that he had previously passed a life of stu
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THE "CRACK-SHOTS." No. I.
THE "CRACK-SHOTS." No. I.
A club, under the imposing style of the "Crack-Shots," met every Wednesday evening, during the season, at a house of public entertainment in the salubrious suburbs of London, known by the classical sign of the "Magpye and Stump." Besides a trim garden and a small close-shaven grass-plat in the rear (where elderly gentlemen found a cure for 'taedium vitae' and the rheumatism in a social game of bowls), there was a meadow of about five or six acres, wherein a target was erected for the especial be
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THE "CRACK-SHOTS." No. II.
THE "CRACK-SHOTS." No. II.
"Sniggs's rencontre with the bird-catcher reminds me of Tom Swivel's meeting with the Doctor," observed Smart. "Make a report," cried Jack Saggers. "Well, you must know, that I had lent him my piece for a day's shooting; and just as he was sauntering along by a dead wall near Hampstead, looking both ways at once for a quarry (for he has a particular squint), a stout gentleman in respectable black, and topped by a shovel-hat, happened to be coming in the opposite direction. With an expression of
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THE "CRACK-SHOTS."—No. III.
THE "CRACK-SHOTS."—No. III.
"Sich a lark!" said Bill Sorrel, breaking abruptly in upon the noisy chorus, miscalled a general conversation; "sich a lark!" "Where?" demanded Saggers. "You've jist hit it," replied Sorrel, "for it vere worry near 'Vare vhere it happened. I'd gone hout hearly, you know, and had jist cotched sight of a bird a-vistling on a twig, and puttered the vords, 'I'll spile your singin', my tight 'un,' and levelled of my gun, ven a helderly gentleman, on t'other side of the bank vich vos atween me and the
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SCENE IX. (b)
SCENE IX. (b)
"Well, Bill, d'ye get any bites over there?" "No, but I'm afeard I shall, soon have one." Two youths, by favour of their sponsors, bearing the aristocratic names of William and Joseph, started early one morning duly equipped, on piscatorial sport intent. They trudged gaily forward towards a neighbouring river, looking right and left, and around them, as sharp as two crows that have scented afar off the carcase of a defunct nag. At length they arrived at a lofty wall, on the wrong side of which,
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THE POUTER AND THE DRAGON.
THE POUTER AND THE DRAGON.
"Another pigeon! egad, I'm in luck's way this morning."...
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THE PIC-NIC. No. I.
THE PIC-NIC. No. I.
A merry holiday party, forming a tolerable boat-load, and well provided with baskets of provisions, were rowing along the beautiful and picturesque banks that fringe the river's side near Twickenham, eagerly looking out for a spot where they might enjoy their "pic-nic" to perfection. "O! uncle, there's a romantic glade;—do let us land there!" exclaimed a beautiful girl of eighteen summers, to a respectable old gentleman in a broad brimmed beaver and spectacles. "Just the thing, I declare," repli
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THE PIC-NIC. No. II
THE PIC-NIC. No. II
Notwithstanding the proverbial variety of the climate, there is no nation under the sun so fond of Pic-Nic parties as the English; and yet how seldom are their pleasant dreams of rural repasts in the open air fated to be realized! However snugly they may pack the materials for the feast, the pack generally gets shuffled in the carriage, and consequently their promised pleasure proves anything but "without mixture without measure." The jam-tarts are brought to light, and are found to have got a l
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THE BUMPKIN.
THE BUMPKIN.
GILES was the eldest son and heir of Jeremiah Styles—a cultivator of the soil—who, losing his first wife, took unto himself, at the mature age of fifty, a second, called by the neighbours, by reason of the narrowness of her economy, and the slenderness of her body, Jeremiah's Spare-rib. Giles was a "'cute" lad, and his appetite soon became, under his step-mother's management, as sharp as his wit; and although he continually complained of getting nothing but fat, when pork chanced to form a porti
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[WATTY WILLIAMS AND BULL]
[WATTY WILLIAMS AND BULL]
"He sat, like patience on a monument, smiling at grief." WATTY WILLIAMS was a studious youth, with a long nose and a short pair of trowsers; his delight was in the green fields, for he was one of those philosophers who can find sermons in stones, and good in everything. One day, while wandering in a meadow, lost in the perusal of Zimmerman on Solitude, he was suddenly aroused from his reverie by a loud "Moo!" and, turning about, he descried, to his dismay, a curly-fronted bull making towards him
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DELICACY!
DELICACY!
LOUNGING in Hyde Park with the facetious B____, all on a summer's day, just at that period when it was the fashion to rail against the beautiful statue, erected by the ladies of England, in honour of the Great Captain— "The hero of a hundred fights,"— "How proudly must he look from the windows of Apsley House," said I, "upon this tribute to his military achievements." "No doubt," replied B____;" and with all that enthusiasm with which one man of mettle ever regards another! At the same time, how
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"NOW JEM—"
"NOW JEM—"
"Now, Jem, let's shew these gals how we can row."...
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STEAMING IT TO MARGATE.
STEAMING IT TO MARGATE.
"Steward, bring me a glass of brandy as quick as you can." SINCE the invention of steam, thousands have been tempted to inhale the saline salubrity of the sea, that would never have been induced to try, and be tried, by the experiment of a trip. Like hams for the market, every body is now regularly salted and smoked. The process, too, is so cheap! The accommodations are so elegant, and the sailors so smart! None of the rolling roughness of quid-chewing Jack-tars. Jack-tars! pshaw! they are regul
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PETER SIMPLE'S FOREIGN ADVENTURE.
PETER SIMPLE'S FOREIGN ADVENTURE.
"Loud roared the dreadful thunder."—Bay of Biscay. THE good ship Firefly tossed and tumbled on the mountainous waves of the stormy sea, like a cork in a gutter; and when she could not stem the waves, politically tried a little tergiversation, and went stern foremost! The boatswain piped all hands, and poor Peter Simple piped his eye; for the cry of the whole crew was, that they were all going to Davy Jones's locker. The waves struck her so repeatedly, that at last she appeared as ungovernable as
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PETER SIMPLE'S FOREIGN ADVENTURE. No. II.
PETER SIMPLE'S FOREIGN ADVENTURE. No. II.
"O! what a lost mutton am I!"—Inkle and Yarico. MOST luckily for poor Peter was it, that he fell into the hands, or rather the arms, of the Indian maid; for she not only preserved his crop, but his life. When he recovered from his swoon, he found himself seated beside his preserver, who, with one arm round his waist, was holding a cocoa-nut, filled with a refreshing beverage, to his parched and pallid lips. A large fire blazed in the middle of the wide space occupied by the Indians, and he behel
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A LEGEND OF HORSELYDOWN.
A LEGEND OF HORSELYDOWN.
IT may be accepted as an indubitable truth, that when the tenderest epithets are bandied between a married couple, that the domestic affairs do not go particularly straight. Dobbs and his rib were perhaps the most divided pair that ever were yoked by Hymen. D. was a good-humored fellow, a jovial blade, full of high spirits—while his wife was one of the most cross-grained and cantankerous bodies that ever man was blessed with—and yet, to hear the sweet diminutives which they both employed in thei
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STRAWBERRIES AND CREAM.
STRAWBERRIES AND CREAM.
Among all the extraordinary and fantastic dishes compounded for the palate of Heliogabalus, the Prince of Epicures, that delicious admixture of the animal and the vegetable—Strawberries and Cream—is never mentioned in the pages of the veracious chronicler of his gastronomic feats! Yes! 'tis a lamentable truth, this smooth, oleaginous, and delicately odorous employment for the silver spoon, was unknown. Should the knowledge of his loss reach him in the fields of Elysium, will not his steps be inc
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THE JOURNEY OUT.
THE JOURNEY OUT.
"It's werry hot, but werry pleasant."...
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THE JOURNEY HOME.
THE JOURNEY HOME.
"Vot a soaking ve shall get."...
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HAMMERING
HAMMERING
"Beside a meandering stream There sat an old gentleman fat; On the top of his head was his wig, On the top of his wig was his hat." I ONCE followed a venerable gentleman along the banks of a mill-stream, armed at all points with piscatorial paraphernalia, looking out for some appropriate spot, with all the coolness of a Spanish inquisitor, displaying his various instruments of refined torture. He at last perched himself near the troubled waters, close to the huge revolving wheel, and threw in hi
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PRACTICE.
PRACTICE.
"Sweet is the breath of morn when she ascends With charm of earliest birds."—-MILTON. "WELL, this is a morning!" emphatically exclaimed a stripling, with a mouth and eyes formed by Nature of that peculiar width and power of distension, so admirably calculated for the expression of stupid wonder or surprise; while his companion, elevating his nasal organ and projecting his chin, sniffed the fresh morning breeze, as they trudged through the dewy meadows, and declared that it was exactly for all th
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PRECEPT.
PRECEPT.
Uncle Samson was a six-bottle man. His capacity was certainly great, whatever might be said of his intellect; for I have seen him rise without the least appearance of elevation, after having swallowed the customary half dozen. He laughed to scorn all modern potations of wishy-washy French and Rhine wines—deeming them unfit for the palate of a true-born Englishman. Port, Sherry, and Madeira were his only tipple—the rest, he would assert, were only fit for finger-glasses! —He was of a bulky figure
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EXAMPLE.
EXAMPLE.
"You see I make no splash!" THERE are some individuals so inflated with self-sufficiency, and entertain such an overweaning opinion of their skill in all matters, that they must needs have a finger in every pie. Perhaps a finer specimen than old V____, of this genius of egotistic, meddling mortals, never existed. He was a man well-to-do in the world, and possessed not only a large fortune, but a large family. He had an idea that no man was better qualified to bring up his children in the way the
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A MUSICAL FESTIVAL.
A MUSICAL FESTIVAL.
Matter-of-fact people read the story of Orpheus, and imagine that his "charming rocks" and "soothing savage beasts," is a mere fabulous invention. No such thing: it is undoubtedly founded on fact. Nay, we could quote a thousand modern instances of the power of music quite as astonishing. One most true and extraordinary occurrence will suffice to establish the truth of our proposition beyond a doubt. Molly Scraggs was a cook in a first-rate family, in the most aristocratic quarter of the metropol
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THE EATING HOUSE.
THE EATING HOUSE.
FROM twelve o'clock until four, the eating houses of the City are crammed with hungry clerks. Bills of fare have not yet been introduced,—the more's the pity; but, in lieu thereof, you are no sooner seated in one of the snug inviting little settles, with a table laid for four or six, spread with a snowy cloth, still bearing the fresh quadrangular marks impressed by the mangle, and rather damp, than the dapper, ubiquitous waiter, napkin in hand, stands before you, and rapidly runs over a detailed
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SCENE X.(b)
SCENE X.(b)
"This is a werry lonely spot, Sir; I wonder you ar'n't afeard of being robbed."...
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THE PRACTICAL JOKER.—No. I.
THE PRACTICAL JOKER.—No. I.
Those wags who are so fond of playing off their jokes upon others, require great skill and foresight to prevent the laugh being turned against themselves. Jim Smith was an inveterate joker, and his jokes were, for the most part, of the practical kind. He had a valuable tortoiseshell cat, whose beauty was not only the theme of praise with all the old maids in the neighbourhood, but her charms attracted the notice of numerous feline gentlemen dwelling in the vicinity, who were, nocturnally, wont t
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THE PRACTICAL JOKER.—No. II.
THE PRACTICAL JOKER.—No. II.
AWFULLY ponderous as the words struck upon the tightened drum of Tom's auriculars, they still tended to arouse his fainting spirit. "Mer-mer-mercy on us!" ejaculated he, and shrank back a pace or two, still keeping his dilating optics fixed upon the horrible spectre. "D'ye want a pound of magic shot?" repeated Jim Smith. "Mur-mur-der!" screamed Tom; and, mechanically raising his gun for action of some kind appeared absolutely necessary to keep life within him, he aimed at the Tempter, trembling
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FISHING FOR WHITING AT MARGATE.
FISHING FOR WHITING AT MARGATE.
"Here we go up—up—up; And here we go down—down—down." "VARIETY," as Cowper says, "is the very spice of life"—and certainly, at Margate, there is enough, in all conscience, to delight the most fastidious of pleasure-hunters. There sailors ply for passengers for a trip in their pleasure boats, setting forth all the tempting delights of a fine breeze—and woe-betide the unfortunate cockney who gets in the clutches of a pair of plyers of this sort, for he becomes as fixed as if he were actually in a
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CHAPTER I.—Introductory.
CHAPTER I.—Introductory.
"Let the neighbors smell ve has something respectable for once." THERE is certainly no style of writing requiring so much modest assurance as autobiography; a position which, I am confident, neither Lord Cherbury, nor Vidocq, or any other mortal blessed with an equal developement of the organ of self-esteem, can or could deny. HOME, ("sweet home,")—in his Douglas—gives, perhaps, one of the most concise and concentrated specimens extant, of this species of composition. With what an imposing air d
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CHAPTER II.—Our Lodging.
CHAPTER II.—Our Lodging.
OUR precarious means were too small to permit us to rent a house, we therefore rented one large room, which served us for— "Parlor and kitchen and all!" in the uppermost story of a house, containing about a dozen families. This 'airy' apartment was situated in a narrow alley of great thoroughfare, in the heart of the great metropolis. The lower part of this domicile was occupied by one James, who did 'porter's work,' while his wife superintended the trade of a miscellaneous store, called a green
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CHAPTER. III.—On Temperance.
CHAPTER. III.—On Temperance.
"I wou'dn't like to shoot her exactly; but I've a blessed mind to turn her out!" ARMED with the authority and example of loyalty, for even that renowned monarch—Old King Cole—was diurnally want to call for "His pipe and his glass" and induced by the poetical strains of many a bard, from the classic Anacreon to those of more modern times, who have celebrated the virtue of "Wine, mighty wine!" it is not to be marvelled at, that men's minds have fallen victims to the fascinations of the juice of th
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CHAPTER IV.—A Situation.
CHAPTER IV.—A Situation.
"I say, Jim, what birds are we most like now?" "Why swallows, to be sure," IN the vicinity of our alley were numerous horse-rides, and my chief delight was being entrusted with a horse, and galloping up and down the straw-littered avenue.—I was about twelve years of age, and what was termed a sharp lad, and I soon became a great favourite with the ostlers, who admired the aptness with which I acquired the language of the stables. There were many stock-brokers who put up at the ride; among others
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CHAPTER V.—The Stalking Horse.
CHAPTER V.—The Stalking Horse.
"Retributive Justice" ON the same landing where Timmis (as he termed it) 'held out,' were five or six closets nick-named offices, and three other boys. One was the nephew of the before-mentioned Wallis, and a very imp of mischief; another, only a boy, with nothing remarkable but his stupidity; while the fourth was a scrubby, stunted, fellow, about sixteen or seventeen years of age, with a long pale face, deeply pitted with the small-pox, and an irregular crop of light hair, most unscientifically
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CHAPTER VI.—A Commission.
CHAPTER VI.—A Commission.
"Och! thin, Paddy, what's the bothuration; if you carry me, don't I carry the whiskey, sure, and that's fair and aqual!" I was early at my post on the following morning, being particularly anxious to meet with Mr. Wallis's scapegrace nephew, and ascertain whether anybody had found the dead body of the game-cock, and whether an inquest had been held; for I knew enough of the world to draw my own conclusions as to the result. He, although the principal, being a relative, would get off with a lectu
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CHAPTER, VII.—The Cricket Match
CHAPTER, VII.—The Cricket Match
"Out! so don't fatigue yourself, I beg, sir." I soon discovered that my conduct had been reported in the most favourable colours to Mr. Timmis, and the consequence was that he began to take more notice of me. "Andrew, what sort of a fist can you write?" demanded he. I shewed him some caligraphic specimens. "D___ me, if your y's and your g's hav'nt tails like skippingropes. We must have a little topping and tailing here, and I think you'll do. Here, make out this account, and enter it in the book
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CHAPTER VIII.—The Hunter.
CHAPTER VIII.—The Hunter.
"Hunting may be sport, says I, but I'm blest if its pleasure." Two days after the cricket-match, Mr. Crobble paid a visit to my master. "Well, old fellow, d___ me me, if you ain't a trump—how's your wind?"—kindly enquired Mr. Timmis. "Vastly better, thank'ye; how's Wallis and the other fellows?—prime sport that cricketing." "Yes; but, I say, you'll never have 'a run' of luck, if you stick to the wicket so." "True; but I made a hit or two, you must allow," replied Mr. Crobble; "though I'm afraid
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CHAPTER IX.—A Row to Blackwall.
CHAPTER IX.—A Row to Blackwall.
'To be sold, warranted sound, a gray-mare, very fast, and carries a lady; likewise a bay-cob, quiet to ride or drive, and has carried a lady' STEAM-BOATS did not run to Greenwich and Blackwall at this period; and those who resorted to the white-bait establishments at those places, either availed themselves of a coach or a boat. Being now transformed, by a little personal merit, and a great favour, from a full-grown errand-boy to a small clerk, Mr. Timmis, at the suggestion of my good friend Mr.
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CHAPTER X.—The Pic-Nic.
CHAPTER X.—The Pic-Nic.
—-had just spread out their prog on a clean table-cloth, when they were alarmed by the approach of a cow. "PEOPLE should never undertake to do a thing they don't perfectly understand," remarked Mr. Crobble, "they're sure to make fools o' themselves in the end. There's Tom Davis, (you know Tom Davis?) he's always putting his notions into people's heads, and turning the laugh against 'em. If there's a ditch in the way, he's sure to dare some of his companions to leap it, before he overs it himself
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CHAPTER XI.—The Journey Home.
CHAPTER XI.—The Journey Home.
"Starboard, Tom, starboard!"—"Aye, aye-starboard it is!" I FOUND myself quite in a strange land upon parting with my master and his friends. It was war-time, and the place was literally swarming with jack-tars. Taking to the road, for the footway was quite crowded, I soon reached Poplar. Here a large mob impeded my progress. They appeared all moved with extraordinary merriment. I soon distinguished the objects of their mirth. Two sailors, mounted back to back on a cart-horse, were steering for B
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CHAPTER XII.—Monsieur Dubois.
CHAPTER XII.—Monsieur Dubois.
"I sha'nt fight with fistesses, it's wulgar!—but if he's a mind to anything like a gemman, here's my card!" THE love-lorn Matthew had departed, no doubt unable to bear the sight of that staircase whose boards no longer resounded with the slip-slap of the slippers of that hypocritical beauty, "his Mary." With him, the romance of the landing-place, and the squad, had evaporated; and I had no sympathies, no pursuits, in common with the remaining "boys"—my newly-acquired post, too, nearly occupied t
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CHAPTER XIII.—My Talent Called into Active Service.
CHAPTER XIII.—My Talent Called into Active Service.
"Ar'n't you glad you ain't a black-a-moor?" "I should think so," replied his sooty brother, "they're sich ugly warmints." HAVING to deliver a letter, containing an account and a stock receipt, to one of Mr. Timmis's clients, residing at the west end of the town; in crossing through one of the fashionable squares, I observed a flat-faced negro servant in livery, standing at the door of one of the houses. Two chimney sweepers who happened to be passing, showed their white teeth in a contemptuous g
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CHAPTER XIV.—A Dilemma.
CHAPTER XIV.—A Dilemma.
"EE cawnt gow back, 'cause they locks the gates," "Well, can we go forward, then?"—"Noa, ee cawnt, 'cause the roads are under water;" "EE cawnt gow back, 'cause they locks the gates," said a bumpkin on the road-side to a Cockney-party in a one-horse chaise. "Well, can we go forward, then?" demanded the anxious and wearied traveller. "Noa, ee cawnt, 'cause the roads are under water;" replied the joskin, with a grin. This was certainly a situation more ridiculous than interesting; and I smiled whe
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CHAPTER XV.—An Old Acquaintance.
CHAPTER XV.—An Old Acquaintance.
"Only three holidays left, and still this plaguey glass says 'very wet;'—I can't bear it—I can't—and I won't." How impatiently did I count the minutes 'till the office was closed, for I longed to communicate the glad tidings of my good fortune to my worthy father. The old man wept with joy at the prospect, and assisted me in rearing those beautiful fabrics termed castles in the air. His own trade, by the recommendation of the rough, ill-mannered, but good-natured Mr. Timmis, had wonderfully incr
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CHAPTER XVI.—The Loss of a Friend.
CHAPTER XVI.—The Loss of a Friend.
"I say, ma'am, do you happen to have the hair of 'All round my hat I vears a green villow?'" I WAS startled by the batho-romantic sentiment of Matthew, somewhat in the same manner as the young lady at the bookseller's, when she was accosted by a musical dustman, with—"I say, ma'am, do you happen to have the hair of 'All round my hat I vears a green villow?'" But, however ridiculous they may appear, such incongruous characters are by no means caricatures—nay, are "as plentiful as blackberries," e
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CHAPTER XVII.—Promotion.
CHAPTER XVII.—Promotion.
"I, think there must be something wrong about your rowing," "My rowing!" cried I; "nonsense!—it's because you don't steer right. "I REMEMBER, when I was a young man, I once took a fancy to rowing," said Mr. Crobble one day to me. "I wasn't then quite so round as I am at present. Cousin Tom and I hired a wherry, but somehow we found we didn't make much way. Tom was steering, and I took the sculls, sitting my back to him like a gaby!" "'I, think there must be something wrong about your rowing,' sa
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A RIGMAROLE.—PART I.
A RIGMAROLE.—PART I.
"De omnibus rebus." THE evening is calm—the sun has just sunk below the tiles of the house, which serenely bounds the view from the quiet attic where I wield the anserine plume for the delectation of the pensive public—all nature, etc.—the sky is deep blue, tinged with mellowest red, like a learned lady delicately rouged, and ready for a literary soiree—the sweet-voiced pot-boy has commenced his rounds with "early beer," and with leathern lungs, and a sovereign contempt for the enactments of the
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A RIMAROLE—PART II.
A RIMAROLE—PART II.
"Acti labores sunt jucundi" THE horse is really a noble animal—I hate all rail-roads, for putting his nose out of joint—puffing, blowing, smoking, jotting—always going in a straight line: if this mania should continue, we shall soon have the whole island ruled over like a copy-book—nothing but straight lines—and sloping lines through every county in the kingdom! Give me the green lanes and hills, when I'm inclined to diverge; and the smooth turnpike roads, when disposed to "go a-head."—"I can't
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A RIGMAROLE—PART III.
A RIGMAROLE—PART III.
"Oderunt hilarem tristes." THE sad only hate a joke. Now, my friend Rory is in no sense a sad fellow, and he loves a joke exceedingly. His anecdotes of the turf are all racy; nor do those of the field less deserve the meed of praise! Lord F____ was a dandy sportsman, and the butt of the regulars. He was described by Rory as a "walkingstick"—slender, but very "knobby"—with a pair of mustaches and an eye-glass. Having lost the scent, he rode one day slick into a gardener's ground, when his prad ra
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AN INTERCEPTED LETTER FROM DICK SLAMMER TO HIS FRIEND SAM FLYKE.
AN INTERCEPTED LETTER FROM DICK SLAMMER TO HIS FRIEND SAM FLYKE.
eppin-toosday my dear sam i've rote this ere for to let you no i'm in jolly good health and harty as a brick—and hope my tulip as your as vell——read this to sal who can't do the same herself seeing as her edication aintt bin in that line——give her my love and tell her to take care o' the kids.——i've got a silk vipe for sal, tell her; and suffing for 'em all, for i've made a xlent spec o' the woy'ge and bagg'd some tin too i can tell you; and vont ve have a blow out ven i cums amung you——napps——t
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