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THE LOST HEIR.

Them vile Savoyards ! they lost him once before all " Oh where, and oh where

along of following a Monkey and an Organ : Is my bonny laddie gone ?”. Old Song.

O my Billy—my head will turn right round-if he's

yot kiddynapp'd with them Italians, One day, as I was going by

They'll make him a plaster parish image boy, they That part of Holborn christened High,

will, the outlandish tatterdemallions. I heard a loud and sudden cry,

Billy-where are you, Billy—I'm as hvarse as a That chill'd my very blood;

crow, with screaming for ye, you young sorrow! And, lo! from out a dirty alley,

And sha'n't have half a voice, no more I sha'u't, for Where pigs and Irish wont to rally,

crying fresh herrings to-morrow. I saw a crazy woman sally,

O Billy you're bursting my heart in two, and my Bedaub'd with grease aud mud.

life won't be of no more vally, She turn'd her East, she turn'd her West,

If I'm to see other folk's darlins, and none of mine, Staring like Pythoness possest,

playing like angels in our alley, With streaming hair and heaving breast,

And what shall I do but cry out my eyes, when I As one stark mad with grief.

looks at the old three legged chair, This way and that she wildly ran,

As Billy used to make coaches and horses of, and Jostling with woman and with man

there a'n't no Billy there! Her right hand held a frying pan,

I would run all the wide world over to find him, if I The left a lump of beef.

only know'd where to run, At last her frenzy seem'd to reach

Little Murphy, now I remember, was once lost for a A point just capable of speech,

month through stealing a penny bun,-. And with a tone almost a screech,

The Lord forbid of any child of mine! I think it As wild as ocean bird's,

would kill me raily, Or female Ranter mov'd to preach,

To find my Bill holdin up his little innocent hand at She gave her “ sorrow words."

the Old Bailey “Oh Lord ! O dear, my heart will break, I shall go

For though I say it as oughtu't, yet I will say, you stick stark staring wild !

may search for miles and mileses Has ever a one seen any thing about the streets like And not find one better brought up, and more pretty a crying lost-looking child ?

behaved, from one end to t'other of St. Giles's. Lawk help me, I don't know where to look, or to run,

Aud if I called him a beauty, it's no lie, but only as if I only knew which way

a Mother ought to speak; A child as is lost about London streets, and especially

You never set eyes on a more handsomer face, only Seveu Dials, is a needle in a bottle of hay.

it hasn't been washed for a week; I am all in a quiver-get out of my sight, do, you

As for hair, tho' its red, its the most nicest hair when wretch, you little Kitty M‘Nab!

I've time to just show it the comb; You promised to have half an eye to him, you know I'll owe 'em five pounds, and a blessing besides, as you did, you dirty deceitful young drab.

will only bring him safe and sound home. The last time as ever I see him, poor thing, was with

He's blue eyes, and not to be call’d a squiat, though my own blessed Motherly eyes,

a little cast he's certainly got ; Sitting as good as gold in the gutter, a playing at

And his nose is still a good un, tho' the bridge is making little dirt pies.

broke, by his falling on a pewter pint pot ; I wonder he left the court where he was better off He's got the most elegant wide mouth in the world, than all the other young boys,

and very large teeth for his age; With two bricks, an old shoe, nine oyster-shells, and

And quite as fit as Mrs. Murdockson's child to play a dead kitten by way of toys.

Cupid on the Drury Lane Stage. When his Father comes home, and he always comes

And then he has got such dear winning ways-but home as sure as ever the clock strikes one,

O I never never shall see him no more He'll be rampant, he will, at his child being lost ;

O dear! to think of losing him just after nussing him and the beef and inguns not done!

back from death's door! La bless you, good folks, mind your own consarns,

Only the very last munth when the windfalls, hang and dou't be making a mob in the street;

'em, was at twenty a penny

! O Sergeant M‘Farlane! you have not come across

And the threepence he'd got by grottoing was spent my poor little boy, have you, in your beat?

in plums, and sixty for a child is too many. Do, good people, move on! don't stand staring at

And the Cholera man came and whitewash'd us all me like a parcel of stupid stuck pigs ;

and, drat him, made a seize of our hog,Saints forbid! but he's p'raps been inviggled away

It's no use to send the Cryer to cry him about, he's up a court for the sake of his clothes by the

such a blunderin drunken old dog ; prigs ;

The last time he was fetched to find a lost child, he He'd a very good jacket, for certain, for I bought it

was guzzling with his bell at the Crown, myself for a shilling one day in Rag Fair ;

And went and cried a boy instead of a girl, for a And his trousers considering not very much patch'd,

distracted Mother and Father about town. and red plush, they was once his father's

Billy–where are you, Billy, I say? come Billy, best pair.

come home, to your best of mothers ! His shirt, it's very lucky I'd got washing in the tub,

I'm scared when I think of them Cabroleys, they or that might have gone with the rest ;

drive so, they'd run over their own Sisters and

Brothers. But he'd got on a very good pinafore with only two slits and a burn on the breast.

Or may be he's stole by some chimbly sweeping He'd a goodish sort of hat, if the crown was sew'd in,

wretch, to stick fast in narrow flues and what and not quite so much jagg’d at the brim,

not, With one shoe on, and the other shoe is a boot, and

And be poked up behind with a picked pointed pole, not a fit, and you'll know by that if it's him.

when the soot has ketch'd, and the chimbly's Except being so well dress'd, my mind would mis

red hot. give, some old beggar woman in want of an Oh I'd give the whole wide world, if the world was orphan,

mine, to clap my two longin eyes on his face. Had borrow'd the child to go a begging with, but

For he's my darlin of darlins, and if he don't soon I'd rather see him laid out in his coffin !

come back, you'll see me drop stone dead on Do, good people, move on, such a rabble of boys!

the place. I'll break every boue of 'em I come near,

I only wish I'd got him safe in these two Motherly Go home-you're spilling the porter-go home

arms and wouldn't I hug him and kiss him! Tommy Jones go along home with your beer.

Lauk! I never knew what a precious he was—but a This day is the sorrowfullest day of my life, evor

child don't not feel like a child till you miss since my name was Betty Morgan,

him.

bone in his skin !

was the

Why there he is! Punch and Judy hunting, the a romantic walk with the two twins, and a

young wretch, it's that Billy as sartin as sin ! But let me get him home, with a good grip of his strange footman. Gipsies are a wandering hair, and I'm blest if he shall have a whole

race, and all the performers topped their parts;

the very horse roamed away like a horse that [The disasters of a Cockney excursion in had neither parish nor settlement; and Mr. Hainault Forest occupy a few pages, of which if his Wife and Daughter had not hung

Carnaby would have gone roaming after him, here is a specimen :]

round his neck, and made him swear not to The Gipsy Party.

leave 'em till the others returned, which was The Dryads of Wanstead were startled by afterwards softened down to taking a little the rumble of a well laden tax-cart up that walk, provided he didn't go out of sight and avenue which once led to a princely mansion; hearing. In the mean time Mrs. and Miss and the vehicle at last stopped, and set down C-laid the cloth, and began to review its insides and outsides just where the lines the eatables, not without lamenting over the of trees branch off into another verdant alley. smash of the pigeon pie; and when they " It was,” Mrs. Carnaby remarked, “a deli- came to plan their second course, they found cious green spot, and very handy to the Green that the chief remove, a cold round of beef, Man for getting porter.” Mrs. C- was had been pinned on the way down by a faassisted out of the cart; and then Miss C- vourite bull-dog, that Master Carnaby had was lifted out by Mr. Hodges; and then the smuggled into the party. Luckily for the children were lifted out by the Mother; and dog, he had also gone roving, with the whole then the nursemaid, an awkward, plain looking forest before him, as naturally as if he had girl that nobody helped, tumbled out. In the belonged to Bampfylde Moore Carew, the mean time, Master C- jumped out, all King of the Gipsies. agog after blackberrying and bird-nesting; Mrs. Carnaby was one of those characters and had swarmed half up a tree before his mo- emphatically called fidgets: she never rested ther's vigilance discovered, at a single glance, till each individual came back, and she never that he was tearing his trousers, and had rested when they did. Mr. Chis best clothes on. This was a bad setting first to return, and not in the first of tempers. out for the boy; and the horse was not better, He had been done out of his long anticipated for directly he got out of harness, and felt rural walk, by setting his foot, before he had himself free and at grass, after two or three gone a hundred yards, on a yard of snake, preliminary kicks and plunges, it occured to and it had frightened him so that Mrs. Carhim to indulge in a rols, and so he rolled over naby expected it would turn his whole mash a pigeon pie that was unfortunately unpacked, of blood, and give him the yellow jaundice.” and finished by getting very much up with Mr. Hodges came in second, but to the imhis fore-legs in a bottle of ginger-beer. But patient eye of Miss C- certainly did not it was only a moment of enthusiasm ; and, proceed from the Green Man with the straightlike other old nags, he betook himself to ness of a bullet from a rifle. Master Carnaby eating his green grass salad as gravely as a was a good third, for he had been well horsejudge. None of the performers were fortu- whipped, just as he had got three little red nate in their debût. The first thing Mrs. blackberries and five thorns in his fingers, Carnaby did in her hurry to save the pop, by a gentleman who did not approve of his was to pop down one of the children on the trespassing upon his grounds. Boxer, the bullbasket of knives and forks; but it was a dog, was fourth; he came back on three legs, sharp child and soon got up again : and the with his brindle well peppered with number first thing that the other twin did was to trip six by the gamekeeper, to cure him of worryover a stump, and fall, as Betty nursemaid ing park rabbits. In fact, poor Boxer, as said, “with its face in a fuz.” The first Mrs. C. exclaimed, was “bleeding like a pig," thing Mr. Hodges did, was to take Miss and the grateful animal acknowledged her Carnaby round the waist and give her a compassionate notice by going and rubbing smacking kiss; in return for which, as her his shot hide against her shot silk, in return first act, she gave him a playful push, that for which he got a blow quite hard enough to sent him with his white ducks, into a muddy shiver the stick of something between a paraminiature pond, that had recently been stirred sol and an umbrella. As for the nursemaid up by a cow in search of a cold bath. The and the twins they did not return for an hour, first thing that Mr. C. did was to recommend to the infinite horror of the mother; but just some brandy as a preventive against catching as they were all sitting down to dinner, Betcold; but the last thing the brandy bottle sey appeared with her charge, walked off had done had been to stay at home in the their feet, with their “pretty mouths all becupboard. Mr. Hodges, therefore, walked off smeared” with blue and red juice; but no to the Green Man for his health's sake ; and one of the party was botanist enough to tell Master Carnaby sneaked off, nobody knew whether the berries they were munching were where, for the sake of blackberries ;-while hips and haws, or bilberries, or deadly nightthe nursemaid, for the sake of society, took shade, but maternal anxiety made sure it was the "rank pison.” Accordingly dinner was into fashion.” The tea-kettle dropped from postponed, and they set to get up an extem- her hand upon the tea-pot, which dashed pore fire to make the kettle hot, and as soon to atoms, and then lay on its side, hot wateras the water was warm enough, these “two ing the daisies and the dandelions that had pretty babes” were well drenched, and were the luck to grow near it. “Misfortunes never soon as perfectly uncomfortable as they had come single," and the gun, therefore, acted been two months before in a rough steam like a double one in its inflictions; for no trip to Margate. As soon as peace was sooner did Boxer recognise its sound than he restored it transpired, from an examination jumped up, and with an alarming howl dashed of the children, and a very cross examination through the rest of the tea-service, as if he of the nursemaid, that they had met with a had absorbed another ounce of number six; real gipsy woman in the forest who had told a fresh shout from the bystanders welcomed Betty's fortune, but had omitted to prognos- this new disaster, and with the true spirit of ticate that her mistress would give her warn. “ biting a bitten cur,” they began to heap ing on the spot, and that her gipsying would embarrassments on the disconcerted gipsyers. end, as it actually did, in finding herself They kept pitching sticks into the fire till it suddenly out of place in the middle of a grew a bonfire, and made cockshies of the forest. Like other servants, when they lose remaining crockery; some audacious boys a comfortable situation, “ some natural tears even helped themselves to bread and butter, she shed,” but did not wipe them soon, as as if on the principle that the open air ought did “our general mother,” for the very excel- to keep open house. As there were too many lent reason that she had spread her pocket assailants to chastise, the only remedy was handkerchief on the ground to sit upon, to pack up and take to the road as fast as they somewhere between Wanstead and Waltham- could, with a horse which they found with two stow, and had left it as a waif to the lord of broken knees, the consequence of his being the manor.

too curious in the construction of a gravel[At length, the party settle to tea.]

pit. “You may say what you like,” said Mr.

Carnaby, in his summing up," but for my Mrs. Carnaby, however, was happy; but part I must say of gipsying that it's impos“there is many a slip between the tea-cup sible to take to it without being regularly and the lip.” She was in the triumphant 'done brown.'” fact of pouring the hot water on her best souchong, in her best china tea-pot, when a [We are glad to perceive that Mr. Hood very well charged gun went off just on the appreciates, as we think the town universally other side of the park palings, and Mrs. Car. did, Miss Kelly's never-enough-to-be-admired naby had not been born like her Grace, old Sally Simkins, whose lamentations have furSarah of Marlborough,“ before nerves came nished a ballad.]

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The Keepsake.

as small; a foot and ankle as faultless as the

satin slippers—which their artist said required (The list of contributors is as usual, richly the imagination of a poet to conceive, and the dight with noble names, but those whose genius of a sculptor to execute; her walk was genius is their only honour here shown, have the most exquisite mixture of agility and helpproduced by far the best portion of the enter. lessness that ever paid a cavalier the complitainment. We have the Sandman, trans- ment of attracting his attention and requiring lated from Hoffman, by Lord A. Conyngham, his aid; her dancing made the Prince de and not a very lively affair; the Mortal Im- Ligne exclaim, “ I understand the fables of mortal, by the author of Frankinstein; the mythology–Madame realizes the classic idea Caves of Groenendael, an episode of Waterloo, of the Graces.” Never did any body dress by Mr. Grattan ; Lawrence Bayley's Temp- so exquisitely; Raphael himself never matation, a touching tale of sin and sorrow, by naged drapery to such a flow of elegance, the Hon. Mrs. Norton; Love is the Best Phy. Correggio never understood half so well the sician, an affair of early attachment, by H. L. arrangement of colours, and in the manageBulwer, M.P.; the Two Barons, a melo- ment of fan, flacon, scarf, handkerchief, and dramatic story of the Black Forest, by Leitch bouquet she was unrivalled—“the power of Ritchie; and last but one in our notice, science could no further go.” Beautiful she though first in merit, The Widowed Bride, was not, for the imagination and the heart by Sheridan Knowles: this is a beautifully must enter into the composition of beauty told tale of passion, fraught with bright flashes that beauty which is both poetry and passion; of genius, and touches of affection that steal but, after all, there is no word in French that through the heart of the reader: it occupies translates our“ beautiful,” and who in her forty pages, and cannot be so advantageously own sphere could have desired her to be what abridged as Miss Landon's prose contribu. their language did not even express ? Num

berless were the lovers whom she drove to despair-and many were those whom she did

not? But all her petites affaires de caur The Countess Amalie de Boufflers was one were arranged in the most perfect taste; no of the very prettiest specimens of a pretty scenes, no jealousies, no brouilleries ; these woman that Paris and nature had ever con- are things which a femme d'esprit always structed. She had bright golden hair, always avoids. exquisitely dressed, whether sprinkled with Time past on as lightly as he always steps powder, lighted with diamonds, and waving over flowers, Brussels carpets, marble terraces, with feathers, or suffered to hang in the green turfs, or whatever simile may best studied negligence of a crop à l'Anglaise. press a path without an impediment. Every She had a hand as white as a lily, and nearly day added one to the crowd of her adorers

tion:]

THE HEAD.

BY L. E. L.

people feel so safe in an admiration which is the countess in despair and letter-writing. general ; to think with others is the best plan There is such a thing as friendship, for her of never committing yourself—the unsup- epistles received answers full of condolences, ported opinion runs such risks. But Fate is regret, and dearer still, tiews. One letter, howjustly personified as a female, in so many ever, from l'amie intime, Madame de Bethune, caprices does she indulge; and one malicious made her feel almost as desperate as people fancy which she contrived was exceedingly do when they tear their hair, drown themdispleasing to la belle conitesse. One night selves, pay their debts, or commit any very her husband entered her boudoir ; a surprise outrageous extravagancy. The precious yet disagreeable on many accounts, but most dis- cruel scroll gave a full and particular account agreeable in its consequences. With that of a late fête at Marli. Marie Antoinette had perfect ease which constitutes perfect good decided on a taste for rural and innocent pleabreeding, he announced that an affair of sure, and the whole court had grown rural honour forced him to leave the court for a and innocent to a degree. Nothing was to be while, and madame must be ready to accom- seen but crooks, garlands, straw hats, and pany him to his chateau by daybreak. Amalie 66 white frocks with broad sashes," quite was horror-struck: she could have been so English: then they had a real-earnest mill interestingly miserable about the count's mis- and a boat, and the gardens were filled with fortune—so useful in arranging matters: groups enacting rustic scenes. It was enough such an opportunity for general sympathy to provoke a saint-though Amalie made no might never occur again ; but though she pretensions to such a character, whatever she had not had many experiences of the kind, might to that of an angel-to have every body yet one or two instances of a divided opinion else playing at a conntry life, while she was convinced her, that when M. le Comte did acting in reality. But the worst was yet to make up his mind, like the laws of the Medes come; the part selected by the queen herself and Persians, it was not to be changed, and, for“ sa belle Amaliehad of necessity been it must be confessed, with no better reason. given to Madame de Mirvane,“ who,” pursued There is nothing in nature so impracticable her informant, “ looked pretty enough, but as the obstinacy of your true husband; it is managed the dove, which she was to sit bethe insurmountable obstacle—the Alps no neath a tree caressing, with no sort of grace, female vinegar can melt. Amalie knew her How differently would it have been perched destiny, and submitted to it with as good a on your mignon fingers ! it was dreadful that grace as she could.

“ Grace," as she after- such an interesting part, so simple and so wards observed, is a duty which a woman tender, should have been so utterly wasted; owes to herself on all occasions." The coupt but this will make her majesty still more in thanked her, kissed her hand, and bowed out earnest about obtaining M. de Bouffler's reof the rooin, leaving her to console herself as turn. What business has notre bon homme she could, and Amalie rarely wanted the Louis with a gentleman's affair of honour ?" means of consolation. De Boufflers was him. The only consolation which the countess could self in despair at leaving Paris, and was only devise was to try how the new and simple cosinduced to take so rash a step from consider- tume would suit her; she could at least have ing that his own chateau was preferable to the satisfaction of her own approval. The the Bastile. In an agony of anticipated next day saw her seated beneath an old tree ennui he looked about for a resource; his in the neglected garden, through whose boughs wife's evil genius managed that her idea the sudden sunshine fell half green, half should occur to his mind. Every body said golden, as the light of the noon and the hue she was so charming, would not her company of the leaf mingled together. Her hair was be better than none at all—or, worse than carelessly combed back under a wide, black none at all —his own ? The Comte de Boufflers chip hat, with just un noud du ruban; she was himself “the ocean to the river of his wore the simplest of white dresses; and, as thoughts,” and he decided that it was far no dove could be procured, her paroquet was better for half the salons in Paris to be desolés fastened with a silken string, and placed in than to omit even so slight a precaution as an attitude on the prettiest hand in the world. his wife's company, when reduced to sixty But, alas ! projects fail, strings break, and miles from Paris, tapestried chambers, some birds fly away, even from such a jailer as la fifty worm-eaten portraits, and an avenue belle Amalie; suddenly the slender fastening with a rookery

gave way, the paroquet spread its wings, and The chateau was, like the general run of was soon lost amid the branches. In such a chateaux left to a concierge and one or two case there is but one resource, and the counold retainers, as dilapidated as their dwelling. tess executed a most musical shriek; this A ghost had taken possession of one chamber being of no avail, “ tears were in the next -smoke of a second-a murder, ages ago, degree;" but the countess had no idea of had been in a third—and a fourth swarmed wasting such interesting things as tears on with rats. The count sought refuge in shoot- herself, so she was returning to the chateau ing partridges from morning till night, and for assistance to recover her fugitive, when a

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