"'Tis false!" screamed Edward, "'tis false, thou lying varlet!" and drawing a small dag or pocket-pistol from his breast, he discharged it at the head of his brother. The ball passed through Osborne's left arm, but luckily without touching the bone, and lodged in the oak wainscot. Edward started back on perceiving that his brother did not fall, then suddenly drew his sword, and rushed upon him. Luckily Osborne had drawn his rapier in time, and succeeded in parrying his brother's lunges, when the constable and his men interposed. Osborne's superior skill at his weapon had enabled him to wrest his brother's rapier from his hand, which, flying to the side of the apartment, dashed to fragments a large mirror which hung against the wall.

Maddened with rage, Edward drew his dagger and rushed upon Osborne, when a blow from a bill brought him to the ground; the weapon fell from his hand, and the constable's men secured him. They raised him up, and one of the men was sent to procure cords to bind his arms, when Osborne spoke.

"Unhand him," said he, in a voice almost choked with grief. "Edward, acknowledge thyself guilty, and I will forgive thee for our father's sake."

The men released their prisoner, and Edward, putting aside with his hand the long auburn locks which were dyed with the blood from the wound he had received, replied

"Osborne Wyvill, I thank thee; trust me I could not live to hear the yellings of a Tyburn mob enjoy thy father's wealth undisturbed; live amidst thy merchandize and forget thou ever hadst a brother. Curse on my folly, and the fiend that tempted, and curse the drivelling fool who died betraying me." With these words ere those present could interpose, he leapt on a chair which stood under the window overlooking the river, and sprang from it into the roaring tide beneath. Osborne flew to the casement, but it was only to see the body of his brother borne along by the resistless curJ. Y. AN.

rent.

The Note Book.

HENRY FIELDING,

The great novelist, was fond of colouring his pictures of life with the glowing and variegated tints of Nature, by comversing with persons of every situation and calling, as I have frequently been informed by one of my great-aunts, the

late Mrs. Hussey, who knew him intimately. I have heard her say, that Mr. Fielding never suffered his talent for sprightly conversation to mildew for a moment; and that his manners were so gentlemanly, that even with the lower classes, with which he frequently condescended particularly to chat, such as Sir Roger de Coverley's old friends, the Vauxhall watermen, they seldom outstepped the limits of propriety. My aunt, who lived to the age of 105, had been blessed with four husbands, and her name had twice been changed to that of Hussey: she was of a most delightful disposition, of a retentive memory, highly entertaining, and liberally communicative; and to her, I have frequently been obliged for an interesting anecdote. She was, after the death of her second husband, Mr. Hussey, a fashionable sacque and mantua-maker, and lived in the Strand, a few doors west of the residence of the celebrated Le Beck, a famous cook, who had a large portrait of himself for the sign of his house, at the north-west corner of Half-moon-street, since called Little Bedford-street. One day, Mr. Fielding observed to Mrs. Hussey, that he was then engaged in writing a novel, which he thought would be his best production; and that he intended to introduce in it the characters of all his friends. Mrs. Hussey, with a smile, ventured to remark, that he must have many niches, and that surely they must already be filled. "I assure you, my dear Madam," replied he," there shall be a bracket for a bust of vou." Sometime after this, he informed Mrs. Hussey, that the work was in the press; bet, immediately recollecting that he had forgotten his promise to her, went to the printer, and was time enough to insert, in vol. ir. p. 17, where he speaks of the shape of Sophia Western

"Such charms are there in affability, and so sure is it to attract the praises of all kinds of people.

"It may, indeed, be compared to the celebrated Mrs. Hussey." To which observation he has given the following note:

66

A celebrated mantua maker in the Strand, famous for setting off the shapes of women." - Nollekens' Life and Times.

CHINESE PREJUDICES.

It should seem that the aristocracy of China are as inveterate against good roads, as some of their European compeers are against good laws. The strangers residing at the Portuguese settlement of Macao, have been exerting themselves to improve the roads of that district; which measure, the upper class of natives, with true honest zeal for the protection of abuses and the destruction of innovation, have set their faces against. They tell the parties seeking for the im provement, that they are not aware of any reason for this change. Bad roads have always served them and their falkers; and they conclude the document in which they support bad roads, v. good ones, with the following piece of aristocratic eloquence :-" We will resist the attempt, villanous, crafty, cruel, wolfish barbarians from christendom."

Lon. Mag.

Customs of Various
Countries.

CHIMNEY SWEEPERS' CUSTOM IN HERTS. There is a custom in Hertfordshire for the Holly and Misletoe to be carried about to the houses of the inhabitants at Christmas for sale by Chimney-Sweepers. Whether this is regarded exclusively by the sooty tribe in honour of the cloth, or for benefit of clergy, the writer doth not venture to guess: but it is worthy of notice, that the vending the evergreens is confined to those who have certainly a claim to chimney-ornaments, and are the preparatory safeguards to roaring fires and smoky houses. Remember the poor Gardeners!" is a known apostrophe in the London districts in severe fros'y weather, with a cabbage-stump erected on high, without reflecting, it is presumed, on the tailors' propensities. It might be conjectured that the sweeps in the above shire collect the red berries and white forked boughs to induce eleemosynary alms from good-natured hostesses and servant girls. JOIDA.

HAT NUT.

This pleasant amusement is neither last nor least in the estimation of country boys, and may be classed with the oldest of the Greek and Roman pastimes. Of course the season in which it is popular in the conntry is after the harvest is gathered in, and evening leisure draws coteries toge ther in bye-ways and churchyard haunts; and I have seen youths grown to manhood as earnestly engaged at Hat Nut, as if their fortune depended ou the number cast. The manner in which it is played is thus. The older the hat the better, so that the crown be not broken, for it is put on the ground, and the rim generally kept down with stones, and the crown bent in so as to hold the quantity of nuts therein deposited, according to the number decided on by the players. Now, each boy's object is to get a large heavy nut, and lead is often secretly run into it to make

it much heavier; thereby, when the blow which is given askance, forces the nuts out of the crown of the hat more readily, and greater success is secured. Some boys are so dexterous as to win half-apeck of nuts in an evening, and the nests of woodmice are sometimes robbed by losers to carry on the disposition of adventure. This may be put in juxta-position with the following sentiment of Shakspeare, who says,

New customs,

Though they be ne'er so ridiculous,
Nay, let 'em be unmanly, yet are followed. P.

Anecdotiana.

MARSHAL VILLARS.

When Marshal Berwick was killed by a cannon-ball at Philipsburg, Marshal Villars, who had been sent to take the command at Turin, being informed of the fate of his colleague and rival, said with the spirit of a soldier "That man had always more luck than I!" He ex. pired a few days afterwards.

DIVISION OF PARISHES.

The late Mr. Sergeant Lens used to tell with great glee the following avecdote of his learned brother of the coif, Mr. Sergeant Hill:-" Having business to transact with him he went to his chambers in New-square, Lincoln's Inn, and found him with the bookcases, tables, chairs, and carpet on one side of the room; the quantity of furniture crowded together hardly leaving space for the learned lawyer to move on that side of the room, while the other half of the apartment was without a single article. After the usual greeting, Pray,' said Mr. Sergeant Lens, 'what do you intend to do with all the furniture arranged in this strange fashion?' The learned sergeant replied, " that since half his chambers had been found to stand in the parish of St. Clement Danes, he had formed this encampment on the side of the room belonging to Lincoln's Inn, to prevent the officers from distraining his goods for the poor's rates.' At a future period Mr. Sergeant Lens visited his brother in distress,' as he humorously called him, and actually found the officers in the apartment (having effected an entrance through the back windows), and his learned brother daring them to touch his goods out of the parish, the boundary of which he had carefully marked on the floor. The officers were so intimidated at the threats that they never again molested the learned sergeant, who continued to reside in the chambers without paying any parochial dues."

Ellustrated Article.

WILL O' THE WISP.

A FAIRY TALE.
(For the Olio.)

I pray theesing again: Mine ear is much enamour'd of thy note, So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape.-Shak,

In days of yore, (or our forefathers lied,) this island was peopled with that tiney race, known in most countries by the name of elves or fairies. Indeed some credulous folks believe that these little gentry are still in existence, but that they are grown shy, and never visit the earth until the dull mortals who inhabit it are locked in the arms of Morpheus. Some there are who contend that the rings of bright grass which may be often seen under the shades of sturdy oaks, are the marks of their footsteps; the place where their reels have been danced to the tune of an elfin pipe. Still this harmless superstition is gradually falling into decay, under the powerful attacks of time, and the advance of intellectual improvement; -but to commence our tale.

In days of yore, we like that word VOL. III.

D

yore, which gives us such a wide scope and shelters us from the critic who, with the watchfulness of the cat, looks sharply out on all sides, ready to pounce upon our anachronisms. In days of yore there lived in the couuty of Lincolnshire, an old knight, who was guardian to a damsel of most exquisite beauty. She was the daughter of a deceased relative, and had been left under his protection for several years, daily improving in beauty and those accomplishments which add to the charms of a young and lovely girl.

To conceal beauty is both difficult and dangerous; for the more rigorously doth a guardian watch over the safety of his ward, the more doth the fame of her beauty increase, and her protector, wearied out by sleepless nights and frequent false alarms, curses the cares of guardianship, and rails against that beauty he cannot contemplate without envying his youthful fellows.

Sir Barnaby experienced the truth of this, and was daily exposed to the mortification of beholding a crowd of gallants, who each morning came to enquire after her health, and bask in the sunshine of her beauty. The old knight watched 58

them intently as each pressed the hand of his ward to his lips, and each bouquet that was presented to her he examined himself, to see that no billet had been secreted in it. Such a life of continual watching and anxiety would have worn out the most patient of mortals, much less Sir Barnaby, who had not much of that in his composition, which has been called by some a virtue, and for which Job was so eminently distinguished.

The knight deliberated for some time upon the most expedient means of alleviating his cares, when, after due cogitation, he resolved to get rid of his anxiety by marrying her himself, without delay. Alas! poor man, he had not in his eye the famed fable of Scylla and Charibdis, or he would not have thought of such a dangerous resolve. But fate, assisted by a little being, whom we shall soon introduce to our readers, willed it that Mabel should not become the wife of her guardian. Among the gay and handsome youths who crowded round the beautiful and innocent girl, was one Sir Albert, a knight of comely presence and undaunted valour. He alone had found favour in the eyes of Mabel, and many schemes were thought

of to deceive her guardian, and escape from his advances, which were now becoming still more disagreeable to his lovely ward; but, like another Argus, he was constantly upon the watch.

Things stood in this posture, when one fine evening, long after the evening bell had rung, the Fairy King, Oberon, with his Queen, and elfin subjects, were assembled together under the shade of a large oak in a neighbouring forest. 'The full light of the harvest moon shone over hill and dale, and the beauty of the evening made ainends for the warm and sultry day which had preceded it. Many gambols and antics were performed by the elves before their monarch and his queen, when the king bade them disperse; but ere they departed to perform their deeds of good or evil to the sons of men as their own minds prompted them, his Elfin Majesty begged to know their several destinations. Various were the answers given, but only those of two of them are known. The first was Puck or Robin-good-fellow; the other was the renowned Will o' the Wisp, to whom the alias of Friar Rush has been given by the inhabitants of Great Britain. Whe