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His fiddle! The wretch, I knew it would happen. As I live, here are a dozen engines, fifty, fremen, Where's the landlord, sirrah?

Thomas. He's not at home, sir ?
Where's his wife?

Thomas. She's in fits, sir.

You scoundrel, you'll be hanged, to a certainty! -There's a statute for you, caitiff! there is.-Come, sir,-come-strip, and go up the chimney directly.— Strip! or I'll kill you with the toasting fork, and bury your body in the dust-hole,

[Enter the cat with a tail as thick as my arm, gallopping round the room.]

Zounds and death, what's to be done?-My life's not insured!-I must get out of the house. [Rattling, of wheels, and crics of " Fire!" in the street.] Ob, the devil! here comes the parish engine, and as many thieves with it as might serve six parishes! -Shut the doors, below, I say. [Calling down stairs.] Don't let 'em in.-Thomas!--the house will be gutted from top to bottom!-Thomas! -Where is that rascally servant of mine!Thomas! [Catting in al! directions.]—I—I must se, myself.

[Seene changes to the kitchen. The housemaid in hysterics under the dresser.]

and four thousand fools!-I must be off!-Thenas! -[He enters.]-I must escape -Thomas! In epulchre you but not yet.-Shew me the back-door. Thomas.-There is none, sir.-I've been trying t get out myself.

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Cook. Oh laws, sir! if it was to be shot off up chimbley, it would surely put it out. She's right. Run, Thomas! At the head of. bed. Away with you. Mind-it's loaded— care what you are about.

There they go!-They have found it.-Now (!) are down stairs.-Why, zounds! the woman has the gun!-Take it from her!-He don't hear -Thomas!-She's going to fire it, as I live?—Y she's sitting down in the grate -Thomas!-M her body half way up the chimney!- It Pooh what a smell of sulphur !--Thomas !Death! the woman's a fool.-Bang! bang' [.. Thomas!-Thomas! I remember it was on a Friday I heard.] Ah! there she goes backwards!-its: hired him!--Thomas! - [I find him in the jack-Here comes the soot in cart-loads, all over: towel.]-Take a wet blanket, you rascal, and get Thomas! you rascal!-She's killed!—No, r through the garret window, Crawl up the tiles, you she's up and running.-Don't let her com wretch, and utile the chimney-pot! -Margery! Pshaw! What's her name?—S Madam! -[The landlady clings round my neck.-ning towards the street door!-Margery Madam!-for Heaven's sake!-There is no danger, she's all on fire, and as black as a soot bag!. I assure you. [She clings tighter.]—Or, if there is, stop her, I say.-Ah! she gets into the stru we had better embrace after it's over.-You'll "die Thomas!-Margery!-Every body! The wo by me?"-No, no; not for the world.-Throw some be burned to death! [Shouts without, and 2. · pails of water on the grate, for Heaven's sake!-water.] Ha!-[I run to the window. Damn the monkey! how he gets between one's The engines are playing upon her!!! legs! Thomas! Thomas!-[The tumult increases.] That infernal footman! he is my fateThomas! thought it would be the monkey! Enter Thomas.

Thomas.-[Down the chimney.]—Sir!

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Come in, you sneaking scoundrel.—Is the

One more peep [I run up stairs] from the window.
-Ilark, how they knock without !-Rat-tat-tat! | burnt?

THE LAUGHING PHILOSOPHER.

Thomas. No, sir,-she's only singed. Saged you Beelzebub's bastard!-Curse the onkey-stop him-he's gone off with my gold ectacles

If you have compassion, hear a man of five-and-
ty's prayer! I cant stay here!-where am I to go
-If you should think-Thomas!-I must get in-
» hackney coach!-If you should think-Call me
ackney coach, sitrah-and ask the man what he
rges for it (d'ye hear) by the week.-If you
uld think, that there is any chance of my doing
Jin Edinburgh-I shouldn't like to be above the
story, (understand most of their houses run
Aine, by return would oblige. As I have no
e at present, except my hackney coach that I've
for, I can't say exactly in what place of suffer-
Jour letter will find me; but, by addressing to
Coffee-bouse in Rathbone Place, it will some-
fe or other come to the hands of

Your very humble servant,
WRINKLETON FIDGET.

THE WIG-BLOCK.

names.

licentiousness of the press, the celebrity of rouge et
noir. There is, however, one circumstance corro-
borative of their judgment, to which we think the
public opinion has not yet been sufficiently called.
We mean the indisputable fact, that persons of all
We remember that when we were dragged
descriptions are growing ashamed of their own
in our childhood to walk with our nurse, we were
accustomed to beguile our sense of weariness and
disgust by studying the names, which, in their neat
brass plates, decorated the doors by which we passed.
Now the case is altered! the tradesmen have re-
moved their signs; it is equally true that the gen-
The shuple nu-
tlemen have removed their names.
merical distinction, which is now alone emblazoned
upon the doors of our dwellings, but ill replaces that
more gratifying custom, which, in a literal sense,
held up great names for our emulation, and made the
streets of the metropolis a muster-roll of examples
for our conduct.

But a very serious inconvenience is also occasioned by this departure from ancient observances. How is the visitor from the country to discover the patron of his fortunes, the friend of his bosom, or the misBarber was lately brought before a justice, on a of having stolen a wig-block. In his defence, tress of his heart, if, in lieu of the above-mentioned fessed to the magistrate, that he had no occa-edifying brass plates, his eye glances upon the un-steal one, as his worship himself knew that rish abounded with wig-blocks."

SIXES AND SEVENS.

is

particular to observe that the name on the door
Morning Chronicle.

point which has often been advanced and
ed by the learned, that the world grows worse
older; arguments have been advanced,
uses written, in support of Horace's opinion.
Elas parentum pefor avis tulit
Nonequiores, mox daturos
Progeniem vitiosiorem.
rapporters of this idea rest their sentence upon
grounds; they mention the frequency of
a. cases, the increase of the poor-rate, the

satisfactory information contained in 1, 2, or 3? In some cases even this assistance is denied to him, and he wanders upon his dark and comfortless voyage, like an ancient mariner deprived of the assistance of

the stars.

Mr. Nichol Loaming, has written a long and eloquent dissertation upon this symptom of degeneexperto crede" racy; and certainly, if the advice" be of any weight, Mr. Nichol's testimony ought to induce all persons to hang out, upon the exterior of their residences, some more convincing enunciation of their name and calling, than it is at present the fashion to produce.

Nichol came up to town with letters of introduction to several friends of his family, whom it was his duty and wish to discover. But his first adventure so dispirited him, that, after having spent two morn

ings at a hotel, he set out upon his homeward voyage, and left the metropolis an unexplored region.

He purposed to make his first visit to Sir William Knowell, and having with some difficulty discovered the street to which he had been directed,, he proceeded to investigate the doors, in order to find out the object of his search. The doors presented nothing but a blank! He made inquiries; was directed to a house; heard that Sir William was at home, was shown into an empty room, and waited for some time with patience.

The furniture of the house rather surprised him. It was handsomer than he had expected to find it; and on the table were the Morning Chronicle and the Edinburgh Review, although Sir William was a violent Tory. At length the door opened, and a gentleman made his appearance. Nichol asked, in a studied speech, whether he had the honour to address Sir William Knowell? The gentleman replied, that he believed there had been a little mistake, but that he was an intimate friend of Sir W. Knowell's, and expected him in the course of a few minutes. Nichol resumed his seat, although he did not quite perceive what mistake had taken place. He was unfortunately urged by his evil genius to attempt

conversation.

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He observed that Sir W. Knowell had a delightful house, and inquired whether the neighbourhood was pleasant. "His next neighbour,' said the stranger, with a most incomprehensible smile, "is Sir William Morley." Nichol shook his head; "was surprised to hear Sir William kept such company,had heard strange stories of Sir W. Morley,-hoped there was no foundation,-indeed had received no good report of the family!-The mother rather weak in the head,--to say the truth under confinement ;— the sister a professed coquette,-went off to Gretna last week with a Scotch Officer,-Sir William him

self a gambler by habit, a drunkard by inclination; --at present in the King's Bench, without the possibility of an adjustment—”

Here he was stopped by the entrance of an eldan lady leaning on the arm of an interesting-gil

of sixteen or seventeen. Upon looking up, Nicho perceived the gentleman he had been address. rather embarrassed; and "hoped that he had a said any thing which could give offence."the least," replied the stranger, "I am more and by an account of the foibles of Sir W. Morley tha any one else can be; and of this I will immediaty convince you. Sir William Knowell resides at N Six-you have stepped by mistake into No Saa -Before you leave it, allow me to introduce you to Lady Morley-who is rather weak in the head, and to say the truth under confinement;-to Miss La Morley, a professed coquette, who wen: off to Grit a last week with a half-pay Officer; finally," (with e very low bow) "to Sir William Morley himself, a gambler by habit, and a drunkard by inclisatier who is at present in the King's Bench, without ca possibility of an adjustment !"

PROVIDENCE.

a

The late Lord Holland was one morning condoliny with Dr. Campbell on their mutual infirmities, an lamenting the inconveniences to which the wast health subjected mankind, when advanced in yeas The door opened, and a contractor entered the room. florid and full of health. They congratulated on his looks. "Yes," he said, "Providence ha been very good to me, for I have never known i moment's sickness in my life." This declaration by no means softened the asperity of Lord Huilana countenance. The contractor saw all was mut nigh and took his leave. "There now, Campbell, wen now," said the angry peer, pointing to the dest You see what Provideuce has been about, màng care of that scoundrel's health, forsooth and st minding what becomes of your dropsical belly, wid my ringworm."

"

WRITTEN ON A GLASS,

By a Gentleman who borrowed the Earl of Chat field's diamond pencil.

Accept a miracle, instead of wit;

See two dull lines by Stanhope's pencil writ,

CHARACTERS at a COUNTY BALL.

I pity all whom Fate unites To vulgar Belles on Gala Nights But chiefly him who haply sees The day-star of his destiniesThe Beauty of his fondest dreaming Sitting in solitude, and seeming To lift her dark capricious eye Beneath its fringe reproachingly. Alas! one luckless friend is tied To a fair Hoyden by his side, Who opens, without law or rule, The treasures of the boarding-school; And she is prating learnedly Of logic and of chemistry, Describing chart and definition With geographical precision, Calling her words, as bid by chance, From England, Italy, or France, Until, like many a clever dunce, She murders all the three at once, Sometimes she mixes by the ounce Discussion deep on frill and flounce, Points out the stains, that stick, like burrs, To ladies' gowns, or characters; Talks of the fiddles, and the weather, Of Laura's wreath, and Fannia's feather All which obedient Edmund hears With passive look, and open cars, And understands about as much As if the Lady spoke in Dutch; Until, in indignation high, She finds the youth makes no reply, And thinks he's grown as deaf a stock As Dido, or Marpesian rock.

Ellen, the lady of his love, is doom'd the like distress to prove, Chain'd to a Captain of the wars, Like Venus by the side of Mars. Hark! Valour talks of conquer'd towns, feel silent Beauty frets and frowns ;

The man of fights is wondering now
That Girls won't speak when Dandies bow;
And Ellen finds, with much surprise,
That Beaux will speak when Belles despise.
"Ma'am," says the Captain, "I protest

I come to ye a stranger guest,

Fresh from the dismal dangerous land,
Where men are blinded by the sand,
Where undiscover'd things are hid
In owl-frequented pyramid,

And mummies with their silent looks
Appear like memorandum-books,
Giving a hint of death, for fear
We men should be too happy here.
But if upon my native land

Fair ones as still as mummies stand,
By Jove-I had as lieve be there !"—
(The lady looks-" I wish you were.") ́
I fear I'm very dull to-night"-
(The lady looks" You're very right. ')
But if one smile-one cheering ray"-
(The Lady looks another way.)
"Alas! from some more happy man-
(The Lady stoops and bites her fan,)
"Flattery, perhaps, is not a crime,'
(The Lady dances out of time,)

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Perhaps e'en now, within your heart,
Cruel! you wish us leagues apart,

Aud banish me from Beauty's presence !"
The Lady bows in acquiescence,
With steady brow, and studied face,
As if she thought, in such a case,
A contradiction to her Beau
Neither polite-nor a-propos

Poor Reuben! o'er his infant head
Her choicest bounties Nature shed:
She gave him talent, humour, sense,
A decent face, and competence,
And then to mar the beauteous plan,
She bade him be-an absent man.
Ever offending, ever fretting,
Ever explaining, and forgetting,

He blunders on from day to day,
And drives his nearest friends away.
Do Farces meet with flat damnation?
He's ready with "congratulation.'
Are friends in office not quite pure?
He owns "he hates a sinecure."
Was Major
in foreign strife
Not over prodigal of life?—
He talks about "the coward's grave;
And who so base as be a slave?"
Is some fair cousin made a wife

In the full autumn of her life ?—
He's sure to shock the youthful bride
With "forty years, come Whitsuntide."

FEMALE VANITY

George III. was asked one day by Lord North, when he had seen the old Duchess of Bedford, who was well known to use an uncommon quantity of paint, to which his majesty replied-" He had not seen her face, nor had any other person, he believed, for more than twenty years past."

HUMOURS OF A VILLAGE FAIR.

It was a Village Wake, or Fair, one of Nature's holidays; where she throws aside jerkin and spade to indulge in uncurbed festivity; or rather, where all the inhabitants of a village meet annually to feast, drink, play, make love, and break heads. Such was the scene I now entered upon, though not quite unexpectedly, as I had gained some notice of it before hand by several noisy groups of peasants hastening past me to this attracting point of all that is pre-eminent, beautiful, or interesting in the country circle. For this is the emporium of village fashion; the Hyde Park of the rustics; where the farmer doffs his leather buskins and nail-studded boots for decent worsted hose, set off by shoes ornamented with the same gleaming buckles that besoan led the legs of his forefathers. The huge Bhaggy coat, the faithful companion of his labours through all weathers, is ejected this one day for verdant green, or russet brown. In addition to this, the

| rarely-used red waistcoat rises in roseate splendor across his muscular chest, leaving just room enough at the neck to permit the snow-white cravat to be seen; which his good Dame herself has adjusted with the utmost care. He is not less metamorphosed than his neighbours, who ali start forth from their cottages on this anxiously expected day, arrayed in their best habiliments. The scene of these rural Saturnalia was a fine verdant lawn, extending like an amphitheatre towards a wood skirting the village. I was not long in finding an eminence from whence I might reconnoitre this motley scene, as well as the tumultuous hubbub of shownien and visitors werd allow. I found, to my sorrow, that I had come too late for donkey-racing, and various other sports; and at present, the most conspicuous objects consisted al some youths breaking each other's heads with tram English courage, and certain parties in swings, hanging between heaven and earth, at what appeared to me no very pleasant height. But, doubtless, they were as ambitious to soar as some of our superiors, and, I am afraid, as liable to fall to the dust. To those who were tired of their sports delicacies were not wanting, from the new-made gingerbread to the inviting plum; amongst the booths also were secu some few decorated most splendidly with toys, where the rustic gallant might purchase a thimble or pair of garters for his fair adorable. One or two showara might be observed amongst the crowd, offering thei cap for contributions to the by-standers; some of whom shrunk from it as if it contained a pestilence within its shattered carcase. At another time they made the skies re-echo as they shouted out the mar dered names of the grandees, displayed through glass hole to their visitors. The latter always ap peared to retire with great satisfaction from having seen the mighty potentates of the world in embre, and reduced from their thrones to a ricketty caravan Alas! poor crowned heads, what scurvy tricks Fa tune plays with you! what a pity it is you cannot exterminate rascally showmen at the edge of the bayonet, who hawk your High Mightinesses abema like so many baboons in kingly robes! Turning a

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