AMUSEMENTS OF MODERN YOUNG MEN. THE GENTLE GIANTESS. some twenty-five years ago. Her apartment in summer is pervious to the four winds. Two doors, in north and south direction, and two windows, fronting the rising and the setting sun, never closed, from every cardinal point, catch the contributory breezes. She loves to enjoy what she calls a quadruple draught. That must be a shrewd zephyr, that can escape her. I owe a painful face-ach, which oppresses me at this moment, to a cold caught sitting by her, one day in last July, at this receipt of coolness. Her fan in ordinary resembleth a banner spread, which she keepeth continually on the alert to detect the least breeze. She possesseth an active and gadding mind, totally incommensurate with her person. The widow Blacket, of Oxford, says a modern No one delighteth more than herself in country writer, is the largest female I ever had the pleasure exercises and pastimes. I have passed many an of beholding. There may be her parallel upon the agreeable holiday with her in her favourite park earth, but surely I never saw it. I take her to be at Woodstock. She performs her part in these fincally descended from the maid's aunt of Brain-delightful ambulatory excursions by the aid of a ford, who caused Master Ford such uneasiness. She portable garden-chair. She setteth out with you Bath Atlantean shoulders; and, as she stoopeth in her at a fair foot gallop, which she keepeth up till gat-with as few offences to answer for in her you are both well breathed, and then she reposeth own particular as any of Eve's daughters-her for a few seconds. Then she is up again, for a back seems broad enough to bear the blame of all hundred paces or so, and again resteth-her movethe peccadillos that have been committed since ments, on these sprightly occasions, being someAdam. She girdeth her waist-or what she is thing between walking and flying. Her great pleased to esteem as such-nearly up to her shoul-weight seemeth to propel her forward, ostrichders, from beneath which, that huge dorsal ex-fashion. In this kind of relieved marching, I panse, in mountainous declivity, emergeth. Re- have traversed with her many scores of acres on spect for her alone preventeth the idle boys, who those well-wooded and well watered domains. follow her about in shoals, whenever she cometh | Her delight at Oxford is in the public walks and abroad, from getting up and riding. But her gardens, where, when the weather is not too oppresence infallibly commands a reverence. Shepressive, she passeth much of her valuable time. is indeed, as the Americans would express it, There is a bench at Maudlin, or rather, situated something awful. Her person is a burthen to her-between the frontiers of that and ******'s college self, no less than to the ground which bears her. -some litigation latterly, about repairs, has To her mighty bone, she hath a pinguitude withal, vested the property of it finally in ******* which makes the depth of winter to her the most where at the hour of noon she is ordinarily to be desirable season. Her distress in the warmer sol-found sitting-so she calls it by courtesy-but in sice is pitiable. During the months of July and fact, pressing and breaking it down with her August, she usually renteth a cool cellar, where enormous settlement; as both those Foundations, kes are kept, whereinto she descendeth when who, however, are good-natured enough to wink Sirius rageth. She dates from a hot Thursday-at it, have found, I believe, to their cost. Here ON AN UNDERTAKER. Here lies Bob Master.- Faith! 'twas very hard, STANDARD MERIT. she taketh the fresh air, principally at vacation feet wide. She worketh slender sprigs upon the times, when the walks are freest from interruption delicate muslin-her fingers being capable of of the younger fry of students. Here she passeth moulding a Colossus. She sippeth her wine out her idle hours, not idly, but generally accom- of her glass daintily-her capacity being that of a panied with a book—blest if she can but intercept tun of Heidelburg. She goeth mincingly with some resident Fellow (as usually there are some of those feet of hers-whose solidity need not fear that brood left behind at these periods); or stray the black ox's pressure, Softest, and largest of Master of Arts (to most of whom she is better thy sex, adieu! by what parting tribute may known than their dinner bell); with whom she salute thee-last and best of the Titanessesmay confer upon any curious topic of literature. I Ogress, fed with milk instead of blood—not least, have seen these shy gownsmen, who truly set but a or least handsome among Oxford's stately strucvery slight value upon female conversation, cast atures-Oxford, who, in its deadest time of vacabawk's eye upon her from the length of Maudlin tion, can never properly be said to be empty, grove, and warily glide off into another walk- having thee to fill it. true monks as they are, and ungently neglecting the delicacies of her polished converse, for their own perverse and uncommunicating solitariness! Within doors her principal diversion is music, vocal and instrumental, in both which she is no! mean professor. Her voice is wonderfully fine; but till I got used to it, I confess it staggered me. It is for all the world like that of a piping bulfinch, while from her size and stature you would tallow-chandler. A proud duke once endeavourFletcher, bishop of Nismis, was the son of a expect notes to drown the deep organ. The ed to mortify the prelate, by saying at the levée shake, which most fine singers reserve for the that he smelt of tallow; to which the other reclose or cadence, by some unaccountable flexi-plied, "My lord, I am the son of a chandler, 'tis bility, or tremulousness of pipe, she carrieth quite true, and if your lordship had been the same, you through the composition; so that her time, to a would have remained a tallow-chandler all the common air or ballad, keeps double motion, like days of your life." the earth-running the primary circuit of the tune, and still revolving upon its own axis. The effect, as I said before, when you are used to it, is as agreeable as it is altogether new and surprising. The spacious apartment of her outward frame lodgeth a soul in all respects disproportionate. Of more than mortal make, he evinceth withal a trembling sensibility, a yielding infirmity of purpose, a quick susceptibility to reproach, and all the train of diffident and blushing virtues, which for their habitation usually seek out a feeble frame, an attenuated and meagre constitution. With more than man's bulk, her humours and oceupations are eminently feminine. She sighsbeing six foot high. She languisheth--being two OLD ANAGRAMS. It is a stinger worse than wasps or bees, door, And thus a prison always doth nip sore PARISIAN ENGLISH. Chaucer laughs at the French spoken in his tays, in London. CAUSE OF GOUT. Alderman Barber one morning, while he was in bed, was visited by a friend, who being told he was After the school at Stratford at the Bow." ill of the gout, walked into his chamber without The Parisians have probably some such school any ceremony. The visitor sat down, and entered in the neighbourhood for teaching a peculiar dia- into conversation; but observed the curtains to be lert of the English language; and the abundant close drawn, and the alderman to be more reserved indux of our countrymen into the French metro- than usual, and looking under the bed, spied a polis of late years, has brought this dialect into woman's shoe. "Well, Mr. Alderman," said he, ach repute. One often sees emblazoned in large I hope you are not dangerously ill."" I am eters, over a shop-window, meant probably as miserably tormented in my feet," replied the aladecoy, but more likely, one would think, to derman. “I do not wonder at that," said the operate as a warning to English travellers— other, when you wear such narrow-toed shoes." 66 THE LAW-SUIT. "Here they SPIKE the English." Which (being translated) merely declares that An Irishman loaded with faggots, cried loudly the English language is spoken in the house. A lady as he passed along, "Make way! make way!" from London, perceiving this inscription over a that people might beware in time, as is usual. A milliner's door, its import being explained to her, coxcomb, who thought it beneath him to take the he went in, when, having with some difficulty fellow's counsel, pushed by him, and had his coat found out which of the Damoiselles it was that considerably torn. He flew in a violent passion, was skilled in spiking the English, she attempted and had the man taken before a magistrate, plead to converse with her about a hat which she was ing for payment of the damage. The Irishman trying on. After many vain attempts on both was interrogated, but he merely opened his mouth des, the young French woman at last, observing without speaking. Are you dumb? my friend," hat the hat was too small, brought out this accu- said the magistrate. "No," interrupted the plainrate phrase: tiff, mere malice, because he cannot defend him|self; he appears dumb now, but when we met this In the Rue St, Honoré, a hair-dresser has the morning, he bawled, Make way! make way!' following captivating invitation : "Is, matame, he is too little big." "Hear to cut off hares in English fashion." In the Rue de Faubourg Poissonnière dwells a lady named Conraizy, who tells the world, by means of her sign-board, that she is a Washerwoman and wash embroideries, lace, Zanzes, silk-stockings, also household's furniture's alinen table-cloths, napkins, and Calender's all alone's desire; she will also charge herself of the entertaining the works that is to be done to all serts of linen for the body, and will be exactly delivered at one's desire." ON A WAGGONER. Kill'd by a fall from a waggon. 66 like a very devil; you might have heard him a mile."—"And why, then," said the magistrate, “did you not make way." THE SWEEP. An Irish gentleman being confined to his bed by a severe fit of the gout, some sweeps were employed to clean the chimnies of the house next to him, and one of the boys by mistake came down into the gentleman's apartment. The boy, confused at his mistake, seeing the gentleman in bed, said, Sir, my master will come for you presently.' "Will he, by G-d!" said the gentleman, leaping out of bed; "I beg to be excused staying here any longer then," and immediately ran down stairs. ། DRY HUMOUR, OR THE FAST-DAY. 'Twas on a day, but not the last, When orders for a gen'ral fast Were from the cockpit given; That men no more in sin might plunge, But wipe all out by sorrow's sponge, And make their odds all even. When soaking Sam, who ev'ry day, To sot's hole went, to souse his clay, There found the doors all harr'd ; For Sam the front and postern try'd, But all in vain for entrance ply'd, A case he thought quite hard! And hard and harder while he knock'd, Silence within his batt'ring mock'd, 'Till Sally op'd the sash; And cry'd, Pray cease your rat tat tat, This day we are resolv'd, that's flat, To fast, and take no cash." "Why then," says Sam, in sulky strain, "Fast on. I'll rap no more in vain, Upset me if I do; But you're a pack of curst queer elves, Must make your doors fast too!” DIFFICULTY OF ONE IRISHMAN KNOWING An Irishman having one night endeavoured to display his abilities at a public eloquent society, his oration was severely criticised and animadverted upon by several orators in the opposition, and especially by one of his countrymen. When the society broke up, he thus addressed himself to a gentleman of his acquaintance, "did not you observe what a silly argument that Scotch fellow made against me."-" Why, it was your own dear countryman," said the gentleman, "how came you not to perceive it?"-" No, surely," replied Pat; Why then, my dear, I will tell you the reason; you know that if there be two people in a company that have cat garlick, they cannot smell it upon each other." 16 A QUARRELSOME RHYME. One morning, Otway happened to call apon Dryden, (who lived opposite to him in Fetter lane), at breakfast-time; but was told, by his servant, his master was gone to breakfast with the Earl of Pembroke. Very well," said Otway, tell your master, I will call to-morrow." The next morning he called, according to his promise. "Well, is your master at home now?" said he to the servant. "No, sir, he is gone to breakfast with the Duke of Buckingham bire," said the servant. Otway, whether actuated by envy, pride, or disappointment, then took up a piece of chalk which lay on the table, and wrote over the door, as he went out, "Here lives Dryden, a poet and a wit." The next morning Dryden recognised the handwriting, and told the servant to go to Mr. Otway and desire his company to breakfast with him; in the mean time he wrote, with the same piece of chalk, underneath Otway's line of "Here lives Dryden, a poet and a wit." "This was written by Otway, opposite." This, however, offended Otway, who told him he might keep his wit and his breakfast to himself. THE DRUNKARD. Ned Soaker lay stretch'd on the bed of grim death, A YOUNG WIFE WELL MATCHED. A gentleman of Hampshire had, by his will, in the year 1736, ordered, that after his decease his body should be thrown into the sea beyond the Needles, which was accordingly complied with. On making enquiry into his motives for this singular disposal of his remains, it was discovered, that he made it for the purpose of disappointing a young wife, who had frequently assured him, by way of consolation, that she would dance upon grave. his CONFESSIONS OF A BRICKLAYER. Some trifling repairs are required at your house, send for a bricklayer; he comes, probably attended with a man, to receive your directions, ocenEying ten minutes. The next morning he sends a workman and a labourer; the workman begins to eat away; the labourer returns for materials, and brings a dozen bricks and one hod of mortar, empoved balf a day. The job being finished, "What was used, Paddy" enquires the man of the labourer. Sure it is a score of bricks and ine hods of mortar," replies the assistant bricklayer. Returned home, the foreman makes enquiry," two score of bricks, and four hods of mortar," answers the man; the foreman makes a Memorandum for the clerk, three score bricks and sithods of mortar; the clerk enters in his masler's books, one hundred bricks and eight hods of orlar; the master, looking over his accounts, alter the entry to one hundred and fifty bricks and twelve hods of mortar; and thus the bill is rendered: Mr. William Lack wit, To taking up and relaying brick step in cellar; underpinning wall; plaistering copper; stopping rat-holes; repairing ceiling; self, man, and labourer, one day and a half; one hundred and fifty paving bricks; twelve hods of mortar; six baskets of rubbish carted away, 57. 19s. 10d. THE BANK CLERK AND THE STABLE-KEEPERS. Shewing how Peter was undone, By taking care of Number One. Of Peter Prim (so Johnson would have written) indulge in the remembrance ;-Peter! Tay formal phiz has oft my fancy smitten, For sure the Bank had never a completer Quiz among its thousand clerks, Than he who now elicits our remarks, Prim was a formalist, a prig, Dr. to Thomas Singleton. Let me A solemn fop, an office Martinet, Que of those small precisians who look big If half-an-hour before their time they get To an appointment, and abuse those elves No At home beginning, ne'er extends, But where it started had its end too; To move by clock-work, ever keen Call'd in the city--a warm man. I need not say he went, delighted! For great men, when they let you slice their meat May give a slice of loan-a richer treat. No stage leaves Chigwell after eight, Which was too early to come back So, after much debate, Peter resolved to hire a hack, The more inclined to this because he knew An economic stable-keeper, From whom he hoped to get one cheaper. A perfect Johnny Gilpin figure, |