lull in his stentorian voice, half a dozen other gentlemen made a most gallant attempt to obtain a hearing, when the Irishman, having recovered breath, and gathered fresh inspiration from a long draught of porter, renewed his powerful arguments. As the other half dozen each insisted at this juncture upon having his say, a wild and tumultuous scene followed, resulting in between twenty or thirty disputants pairing off into couples, and attacking cach other right and left, and all at once, with a perfect torrent of yells and

roars.

During the progress of this "intellectual treat," nearly all the other men in the shop appeared to have gradually drawn off, but the disputants waxed warmer and warmer, and it seemed imminent that the Irish Discussion would lead to an "Irish Row," when suddenly the ringing of a bell was heard just faintly above the roar, and the next minute the place was in total darkness.

To describe the proceedings that followed, would be almost impossible, seeing that your deponent could not see; but the hon. gentlemen, most of whom were but half dressed, rushed up, and tumbled and rolled over each other, in the most absurd and undignified manner possible, while the air resounded with cries of "Hullo', that's my coat." "Give up my boots, you thief." "Some one's prigged my breeches." "He's sat on my hat." O, murder! some one's gone off with my shirt."

To escape an ugly rush, your deponent and the jobber (the former entirely bewildered) scrambled, somehow or other, out of the place, after falling headlong over the body of a prostrate tailor, who had himself come to grief by endeavouring to thrust his legs into the armholes of somebody else's coat.

"Jest sarves me right, jest sarves me right," ejaculated the jobber, when the street was once more gained; 66 as if I mighn't 'ave know'ed it all 'afore. Why, don't yer see, it's one o' the most pertic'ler shops out; no working all night, I can tell yer; rings a bell ten minutes afore closing time, notice to skiffle and cut; rings again, out goes gas. I rather guess we were so uncommon warm on them Fenians, as how we didn't hear the fust bell."

Having recruited with some slight

refreshment, rendered necessary by the amount of excitement gone through, your deponent mounted a 'bus to return home, and ruminate upon what he had seen and heard; leaving his faithful guide, the jobber, to the nobility and gentry, to keep an appointment with a pal at the "Whistling Pig," or the " Pig and Whistle;" which of them, however, your deponent will not undertake so swear, however clear he may be upon the other points of this narrative.

Not Alone.

Rest thy head on my heart,

Best lov'd and dearest; Let my arms shelter from

All that thou fearest. While my arms circle thee,

Dangers shall never

Strike thee, but through my breastRest here for ever.

Place, love, thy hand, in mine,

Each of thy tresses; With each thy bosom's heave,

My cheek caresses. Each perfum'd curl, itself

From bondage freeing, With touch magnetic, sends Thrills through my being.

Think not thou art alone,

Though have departed All that thou loved on earth, Be not faint-hearted; Sigh not so wearily,

One heart's remaining, To shelter and cheer thee, From all earthly paining.

Love longs to soften thy

Spirits rebelling; Calming those wailing sobs, Of anguish telling. Trust thou thy fate to me,

Dark clouds will vanish; Love's first fond embrace Thy woes will banish.

66

"WELL, Sir, you must know," began old Bumblebee, one aternoon when the Lunnun coach stopped here, this werry gentleman wot lives upstairs, climbs down, rushes into this werry parlour, and ses to Mary, nearly frightening the wits out o' the little soul,

"I'll ask Mr. B.,' ses Mary, which was quite right and proper, for he looked rather a rum customer; so when she'd told me what he wanted, I asked the coachman if he knew who he was, and where he came from? Well,' ses he, we saw him about a mile off, when we was at the cross roads between Chalfont and Newcombe, pelting along as 'ard as ever he could, with a bag in one hand, and waving a humbrella with the other.

666

Hold hard,' he shouts; 'you wouldn't have me run my legs off, would ye? Going to Newcombe ? All right, hold 'ard;' and that's all he said; and that's all the driver knows about him. So I goes into the parlor arter I packed off the coach, and finds him seated all comfortable, in that werry arm chair.

"I understands you want a room for a few days,' I begin. "A room, an empty room; paper, pen and ink, and that's all ?" "I do,' he replies.

"Then be good enough to walk this way, Sir,' says I. after eyeing him all over, and coming to the conclusion he was a harmless fellow arter all. Walk this way;' and I showed him into our little front room.

"This will do; how much a day? paper, tranquillity, ink, peace, pens and quiet;' ses he.

"Well, I told him how much all that would be, and he called my charge extorshunate; so I brought 'em down to accommodate his circumstances (for I don't like being unobliging); and ses he,

I'll stop for two or three days;' but 'ere he's been for a week, and that's all I knows about him. Ha, ha, ha! A funny feller; but sharp lad Jimmy, aint he, Doctor?"

And old Bumblebee concluded his account with his usual roar of laughter.

The "sharp lad" here came in from outside, with a brass candlestick and piece of yellow soap in one hand, and a boot jack in the other; at the sight of these articles I could not refrain from smiling, as they called to mind the late dispute between Jim and the gentleman in the gown of many colours, by suggesting the epithet, "then take that."

We talked about old times. I told Mr. B. what brought me down that way; that I had intended going through to Ipswich, but circumstances over which I had no control obliged me to proceed later-by the following day's coach most probably. We chatted by the snug fireside, long after it was dark; I, with a cup of tea, sat on one side of the stove; the host with his tankard of beer and long churchwarden, on the other; and pretty Mary between us, with her gown partially relevée, and her neat

little feet on the fender.

Bunblebee had just concluded one of his wonderful tales, in which he described himself to be in the midst of dangers and vicissitudes, running hairbreadth escapes of his life; introducing fair damsels who persisted in falling in love with him, although he particularly desired them not to do so, and concluded by saying, "This was when I was a boy, so you knows how long ago it happened," when we heard a thump, thump, on the staircase.

"That's our lodger," said the landlord, "he always goes out about this time."

"And noise enough he makes about it," returned little Mary; "he's the funniest man I ever met in my life. He never goes

We talked about this curious individual some time. I made them both laugh by a description of the little French authoress, and the illustrious Yellowhammer. Mary wanted very much to read "Aspasia and Pericles," so I made her a present of it.

She's a bonny lass, ain't she Doctor?" said old Bumblebee to me, as we were strolling out before retiring to rest.

"Mary, you mean?" I replied.

"Aye," continued the landlord, "she is a nice lass. Jim, you know, Doctor, be a good lad, a sharp lad, but he ain't perlite enough, he ain't gentle enough for to marry her; he was in the stables all his life before I took him, and he wouldn't have larned any manners at all if he hadn't come to me; Mary, you know, Sir, has took a deal of trouble hedjucating him, and he's thankful you see, he's grateful, poor lad; but it won't do, it won't do."

We had not gone far from the inn before my companion met a friend of his, whom he called "Farmer Johnson."

I left the two neighbours, and strolled on to the clean looking red brick house; the school-room; to the miller's neat little cot; to the hardy blacksmith's forge, and even as far as the ivy-covered little church.

There, there were lights within, and the village choir was rehearsing for Sunday. All was still, the night was very cold and dark; I had been leaning upon the gate, listening to the soft music for some ten minutes, when I noticed the reflection of a light on one of the tombstones. Presently, a tall, dark figure arose from the ground, and, standing bold upright, appeared to listen cautiously. The man (for man it was), then took a lantern from his coat, and stretching forth his arm to its full length, directed the light on everything around. The arm of the dark figure stopped for a few seconds, when the rays rested on me. The tall man then replaced the lantern under his coat, and limped over the graves, towards the gate where I was standing.

"My friend, you like music," said he, touching his hat, and addressing me; "you like to listen to it, so do I; you like everything that's good and moral, so do I. You

came from London this morning?" he continued, when he had come close to me.

"I did." I replied, half afraid of the mysterious individual.

You heard that infernal noise on the horn, just under my window, didn't you?" I acknowledged I did hear it, and that it was disagreeable.

"Uncommonly disagreeable, uncommonly so," he continued. "Now this is what I enjoy; this is harmony, if you please. I like to hear the cherubs at a distance, my friend; as soon as ever I see their dirty little faces. I'm spoilt for their music. By-thebye," said he, bringing out the lantern, and holding it up to my nose; "I know you— you're an old friend of mine; don't remember me? not Jeremiah Slipper? Good gracious! what a man you are; what-but never mind, my classical face will bring back to your memory the gentle friend and playmate of your youthful epoch. I say, it's uncommonly cold standing still; let's perambulate; let's talk of our innocent youth!" He limped out of the gate, and caught hold of my arm.

I was much interested in this curious being, and felt disposed to hear what he had to say. "You are staying at the

"Washbrook Arms,'" I said.

Yes, I am, but not for long; I expect to be called away to Ipswich every day, every hour. You know Ipswich, my

friend?"

Pretty well," I replied; "but 'tis some time since I was last there."

"You go on business?"

Well, no, not so much pleasure, as a strong sense of duty takes me there;" I said.

"Now, that's a very curious circumstance; I am going to Ipswich, from a feeling of duty; but there's a little business in the case also. It's very pleasant, isn't it, to be able to combine duty, business, and pleasure? but you'll excuse me, my friend, may I ask why you stop on the road only twentyfive miles from Ipswich, the place wherein the execution of your duty lies?"

"What can that signify to you?" I replied, thinking it an impertinent question, and stopping short. The tall man also stopped, a staring me in the face, with a much injured expression, said,

"I say, don't bite my nose off, my friend!"

Thinking he might have meant no offence, and remembering what Bumblebee had said, a very harmless fellow arter all;" I

continued, Since duty and business call you to the town, why do you linger here?" "That's right. Because I've both business and duty here," he replied, 66 but let's talk about Greenwich Fair. I can't for the life of me remember your name, but no matter."

We walked on for about half an hour. I told him that the reason I didn't continue my journey on the London coach was because there had been a remarkably cantankerous passenger along side of me. That I regretted after all not having put up with that disagreeableness, as I felt more and more that my presence at Ipswich was very desirable, indeed.

We heard a horse trotting on the hard frosty road, the sound of which approached nearer and nearer.

"Hulloa!" shouted my long-necked companion, holding his lantern aloft as man and horse passed by us.

"Hulloa!" responded the former, pulling the animal; that you?" "Jerry it is, my boy-farewell, my friend, for a few minutes, I've business with this gentleman," said Mr. Slipper, addressing me; "but I'll overtake you, for we must talk about our innocent

youth."

I certainly thought the man a curious being the moment he poked his head out of window, more so when he sprang so suddenly from among the grave stones, and a great deal more still when he spoke of having business with a man on horseback, a mile distant from any dwelling at halfpast ten o'clock on a cold dark winter's night.

I passed them talking most confidentially, as I made my way back to the village. Very curious to know what this gentleman's business was at that time of night, I stood in the road, after walking a few paces, making all kinds of conjectures to myself. Not ten minutes had elapsed before the horseman passed me again. Soon afterwards Slipper came limping along at a quick pace.

My friend, that gentleman informs me that I'm wanted immediately at Ipswich," said he in a hurried voice, "I must away at once; by-the-bye, will you accompany me? We'll hire a vehicle of the landlord, start before midnight, reach our destination in five hours and a half. Uncommonly agreeable companion you'll find me; even B. says so-my mortal enemy B. says, Slipper, you're a scoundrel in business

matters, but first-class society in an ordinary way.' Now, do come, my friend, we'll talk for five hours and a half about Greenwich Fair."

I was, indeed, taken by surprise at this unexpected invitation, and scarcely knew how to act. We walked on at a brisk pace, and met Bumblebee and Farmer Johnson coming out of a neighbouring cottage. The landlord had a two-wheeled vehicle, but it was so rickety that he doubted if it would "stand" rolling over twenty-five miles of hard road; but Farmer Johnson could lend yer one, couldn't yer, neighbour?"

66

Well, my be'int a fine toon out, but 'till carry yer over to Ipswich, and roll yer over there in noo time."

"You're not going, Sir?" said Bumblebee, turning home. I told him what had passed between his eccentric lodger and myself. "If you're a going, Doctor, I lend yer old grey mare," whispered the landlord to me; "but don't run away in such a hurry from us, Sir."

"I say, Bumblebee, my friend, turn out that quadruped of yours," said Slipper.

The landlord evidently did not fancy lending his animal to one whom he knew so little of. I saw that if I went not, Mr. S. stood a fair chance of not obtaining a "quadruped" at all, as the loan of the grey mare entirely depended on my placing myself as security, and so I consented to accompany him; but must confess 'twas done reluctantly, for a snug bed in a comfortable Inn is a much more desirable place to spend a cold winter's night than ricketty chaise is.

a

But I should arrive at Ipswich almost as soon as the mail. There could be no fear of Bootle.

Yellowhammer would tell him that he had left me behind at Newcombe, and so he would be disappointed, and thrown off the scent. Slipper appeared to have very important business in the town, and without the use of the landlord's mare must have waited until the morning coach, or walked the distance. I did not like to be the cause of preventing him executing it, and taking everything into consideration, and that I myself had a duty to perform in the same place, I consented to accompany

him.

Old Bumblebee ran back to brew some more punch for us to imbibe before starting. Jim, the sharp lad, displayed his dexterity by harnessing the grey mare in a very short

time. Mr. Slipper set to, packing his papers, parchments, &c., and in about a quarter of an hour appeared in the little back parlour with a bundle of something done in a blue cotton handkerchief, and up a hat box with a pair of very much-worsefor-wear looking Wellington boots tied on to the handle of it. The chaise duly arrived at the inn. "Twas a ricketty looking affair, with a seat for two in front, and a dickey behind. Old Bumblebee and Mary came out to see us start.

"Jump in my friend," said Mr. Slipper, "We'll take it in turns to drive, and I'll begin." I wished them good bye, promising to call on my return, if possible; and then took my seat alongside of my companion, who was all ready, reins in hand.

"Jim, my lad, shove up the hood, there's a man; you'll find it uncommon cold, gents," said Mr. B., as we started off.

The grey mare was a capital one to go, and rattled the old chaise "in fine style," as Farmer Johnson predicted might be done. When we were out of the village, Slipper lit his lantern and tied it on in front of the splash board.

"Well, my friend, this is harmony, if you please," said he, after so doing; "you'll find out the truth of B's statement-my mortal enemy B's statement, Slipper, you're a rascal in business matters, but uncommon good society in an ordinary way.'

"I don't think that is a particularly favourable character," I replied.

"My friend, you're mistaken; it's an uncommonly favorable character, uncommonly favor put this question, 'Why does he call me a scoundrel in business matters ?' Simply because I'm too honest by a long way for him, to say nothing of how much superior a business man I am. He is the villain; he judges other people by himself; he'd call you a scoundrel before he'd known you half an hour, think of that! before he'd known you half an hour."

Mr. Slipper talked on in this strain until we were nearly half-way to Ipswich, enumerating his mortal enemy's multitudinous vices, and depicting his own virtues. At length, either being exhausted from talking so much, or from having nought else to say, he began to hum fragments of old melodies. Although the tone of his voice was decidedly nasal, still 'twas sufficiently soothing to lull a weary traveller to sleep consequently, I was soon inoculated

Anything wrong with the vehicle or horse" I said, awaking, and finding that we were standing still, and that Slipper, dismounted, was foraging about, lantern in hand, by the road side.

"Hulloah! my friend, you've had a 66 anycomfortable snooze," he returned; thing the matter with the mare, or chaise ? dear me, no.'

What are we stopping for then," I asked?" Well, the fact is, we've been going uncommonly slowly, uncommorly so, for a mile or two. I've had a snooze too, and it struck me in a dream we might possibly be off the right track, so I woke up, jumped down, and am now looking for a mile stone, or finger post, to set us right, I wish my friend you'd get down and see if you can recognise the road at all.

I dismounted, but to recognise anything or anybody that dark night was quite out of the question. We tried unsuccessfully for some time, and then continued the journey, hoping that the old mare knew her way to Ipswich better than we. "You've found me uncommonly agreeable society, my friend," said Slipper. "Eh? My mortal enemy B Hulloa! light

ahead! Capital! you observe my friend, light ahead," exclaimed my eccentric acquaintance, digging me with the handle of the whip, "We're all right. Loughton. What's the time?"

That's

We had been

'Twas a quarter past two. travelling since midnight, and had arrived at the village of Loughton, which is rather more than half way between Newcombe and Ipswich.

There we learnt that every room in the inn was occupied, for the mail coach by which I had come from London had met with an accident, obliging the passengers to remain there until the following day. I thanked my stars that I had remained behind, and wondered if the monster, Bootle, had in any way contrived this misfortune to the coach, for the purpose of attacking me. What a cold, blood thirsty villain, for endangering the lives of so many people, just to gratify the desire of We throttling" one unhappy mortal. baited the mare, refreshed ourselves, and The left Loughton about four o'clock. lantern had been retrimmed, and so gave forth a bright light, throwing its oblique rays on each side of the road.

"Gee up mare," said my companion,