is clerk to Mr. Reeves, an attorney in Tottenham Commisssioner-Never mind, we don't want your court-road, calling upon him to attend on a giveu list-go on. day, to show cause why he should not pay a debt of Mr. Williams-Well, then, at last I set up in 39s. 111d.

Boswell-court, Queen-square.

Lawk me! what Mr. Williams, who spoke with a sort of lisping alterations I have seen in that square, surely in my squeak, garrulously addressed the Commissioner: time. I remember when I used to go to shave old

He had," he said, “ been a hair-dresser, man and Lord
for sixty-eight years, He had served his time in

Commissioner-For God's sake, do come to the the Temple, where he had the honour of making wigs end of your story. for some of the greatest men as ever lived- of all

Mr. Williams-Well, I will. Where was I ? Oh! professions, and of all ranks-judges, barristers, and in Boswell-court-[Commissioner, aside: I wish you tommoners-churchmen as well as laymen-illiterate were there now.]-Well, then, you must know when men as well as literate men; and among the latter, Lord Mansfield (God rest his soul!) died, his wighe had to rank the immortal Dr. Johnson: but of all the very, very wig I made-got back to my old the wigs he had ever set comb to, there was none on master's shop, and he kept it as a pattern for other which he so much prided himself as a full state wig judge's wigs : and at last who should die buit iny which he had made for Lord Mansfield ; it was one master himself. Ay, its what we must all come to. of the earliest proofs of his genius : it had excited

The Commissioner-Go on, go on man, and come the warm commendation of his master, and the envy to the end of your story: of his brother shopmates ; but, above all, it had

Mr. Williams- I will, I will. Well, where was pleased, nay, even delighted, the noble and learned I? Oh! in my poor master's shop. Well, so when judge himself. Oh! gemmen,” exclaimed Mr. Wil- he died, my mistress, gave me—for she knew, poor liams, “ if you had kuown what joy I felt when I soul! how I loved it, this 'dentical wig; and I carfirst saw his noble Lordship on the bench with that ried it home with as much delight as if it had been wig on his head !" (in an under tone, but rubbing his one of my children. Ah, poor little things! they're hands with ecstacy.) “ Upon my say so,

all gone before me. fuddled for three days after!

The Commissioner - Come, if you don't cut this The Commissioner – What has this wig to do with matter short, I must, and send you after them.

Mr. Williams – Dearee me! you put me out. the defendant's debt Jír. Williams- A great deal · that's the very bone

Well, as I was a saying, I kept this here wig as of contention.

my eye; when, as ill-luck would have it,

that ere Mr. Lawrence came to my shop, and often The Commissioner - Doubtless; but you must come asked me to lend it to him to act with in a play. to the marrow, if you can, as soon as possible. -I think he called it Shycock, or Shylock, for he

Mr. Williams – I will. Well, as I was saying – said he was to play the judge. I long refused, but where did I leave off ?-Oh! when I was fuddled. The Commissioner - I hope you have left off that bim have it, and have never (weeping and wiping

he over persuaded me, and on an unlucky day I let babit, now, my good man.

his little eye with his white apron) seen it since. Mr. Williams—Upon my say so, I have, trust The Commissioner- And so you have summoned me; but as I was a saying, to make a long story him for the price of this wig ? short, in course of time I left my master in the Mr. Williams-You have just hit the nail on the Temple, set up for myself, and did a great stroke of head. business. Ay, I could tell you such a list of customers. The Commissioner-Well, Mr. Lawrence, what There was

have you to say to this?

I was

the apple

presume, sir.

Mr Lawrence (with great pomposity) – Why, sir, Chitty, and most erroneously so call him; for you I have a great deal to say:

ought to know that the Ch in Italian sounds like an The Commissioner- Well, then, sır, I desire you English K, and Mr. Kitty, by lineal descent, is an will say as little as you can, for there are a great Italian. It is a vulgar error to speil his name with a many persons waiting here whose time is very pre- y final, it ought to be i, and then it would properly cious.

sound Kittee. Mr. Lawrence - Not more precious than mine, I The Commissioner - I should rather take Mr.

I submit that this case is in the nature Chitty's axthority for this than yours. of an action of trover, to recover the possession of this Mr. Lawrence (in anger)-Šir, do you contradict wig; and this admitted, sir, I have humbly to con- me ? tend, that the plaintiff must be nonsuited; for, sir, The Commissioner-Sir, I will bring this case to a you will not find one word of or concerning a wig in short issue. Did you borrow this man's wig ? his declaration. The plaintiff must not travel out of Mr. Lawrence- I did. his record.

The Commissioner-Do you choose to return it ? Commissioner- What record ?

Mr. Lawrence-It is destroyed. Mr. Lawrence, The record in Court.

The Commissioner-How destroyed ? Commissioner- We have no record.

Mr. Lawrence-It was burnt by accident. Mr. Lawrence - You have a summons, on which I The Commissioner- Who burnt it? attend to defend myself; and that is, to all intents Mr. Lawrence-I did, in performing the part of and purposes, de facto, as well as de jure, a record the Judge in Shakspeare's inimitable play of the similar to, and of the essence of a record in the Court Merchant of Venice. While too intent on the pleadabove.

ings of Portia, the candle caught the curls, and I, Commissioner -Sir, we are not guided by the with difficulty, escaped having my eyes burnt out. precedents of Courts above here. Our jurisdiction The plaintiff here uttered an ejaculation of mental and our powers are defined by particular Acts of suffering, something between a groan and a curse, Parliament.

The Commissioner- Well then, sir, I have only to Mr. Lawrence-Sir

, I contend, according to the tell you, you are responsible for the property thus common law of these realms, that I am right. intrusted to your care; and, without farther comment,

Commissioner-I say, according to the mles of I order and adjudge that you pay to the plaintiff the common sense, you are wrong.

sum of 39s. 11td., which is the sum he is prepared to Mr. Lawrence-Sir, I have cases.

swear it is worth. Commissioner-Sir, I desire you will confine your Mr. Williams-Swear! Lord love you, I'd swear self to this case.

it was worth a Jew's eye. Indeed, no money can Mr. Lawrence-What says Kitty upon the nature compensate me for its loss. of these pleadings?

Commissioner-I cannot order you a Jew's eye, The Commissioner-And pray who is Kitty ? Mr. Williams, unless Mr. Lawrence can persuade his

Mr. Lawrence- The most eminent pleader of the friend Shylcck to part with one of bis ; but I will present day.

order yon such a sum in monies numbered, as you will The Commissioner I never heard of a woman swear this wig is fairly and honestly worth. being a special pleader.

A long dispute followed, as to the value of the wig. Mr. Lawrence-He is not a woman, sir; he is a when Mr. Williams ultimately agreed to take 20s. man, sir, and a great man, sir-and a man, sir and costs, and the parties were dismissed mutually

The Commissioner - Do you mean Mr. Chitty. gruinbling at each other,
Mr. Lawrence-I mean the gentleman you call



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Swift was one day in company with a young coxcomb, who rose with some conceited gesticulation, and with a coufident air, said, " I would have you to melancholy pleasure to travel.” My dear Corinna,

" After all,” says Madame de Stael, “it is a know, Mr. Dean, I set up for a wit.” “Do you, what an expression ! “ a pleasure to travel!" You ideed,” said the Dean, " then take my advice, and might as well have said, sit down again.”

D'abord ce n'est qu'un

triste plaisir que de se faire ARRACHER LE VENT !" THE LIKENESS; OR, MY COUSIN.

However pleasant it might be to you to roll in your My lord was all kind, and my lady all fair,

baronial travelling carriage from Geneva Paris, to And in conjugal fetters were link'd ;

meet the incense of your adoring beaux esprits, I Yet one thing was wanting, and that was an heir, can assure your illustrious shade, that the American That the title might not be extinct.

stage-coach is quite another affair. The very genius of E'en this came at last, and a sweet rosy boy,

inconvenience seems to have invented them, and to So like,-but the truth we'll record ;

continue his ungracious assistance to arrange their Like an angel it look’d, but to lessen the joy,

evolutions. It somehow was not like-My lord.

Misery Ist. PACKING. The babe grew in beauty, the christening came, 2. After a sleepless night of anxiety, on the eve of And to it flock'd friends by the dozen :

the fatal day, mixed with the interesting reflectionsWhen the likeness, O) yes, ev'ry gossip could name, is every thing right in my valise ?- Will Mary reTwas so like her ladyship's cousin ?

member to wake me at four ?- where did I packmy Then sure, at the moment her cousin came in, shaving apparatus ? &c.- you drop into a perturbed The captain, all pleasing and grace!

sleep, which in half an hour is broken by the appallWhen his forehead, his nose, and his sweet dimpleding cry—The stage is come, sir." You wake with chin,

aching head and low spirits, and would give every All present could easily trace.

thing in the world, except your already paid passageThe ladies sat smiling; the captain smil'd too; money to sleep till nine. But vow'd he no likeness could see :

3. Getting into the coach in the dark, treading on Which my lord, nay my lady, affirm’d to be true, the feet of the peevish, sleepy, occupants-you are And must with the captain agree.

stuck upon the midst of the narrow, tottering, middle The party, on this, would again view the child : seat, with no back to lean against, and two or three

When each looking wise, hemm’d and haw'd; trunks already in possession of the place destined for Then, blaming their folly, (by fancy beguild,) your legs. A sick child is awaked by your entrée, Declar'd it was just like-my lord !

and the mother opens an octave higher than concert The next day was fix'd to go down to the grove, pitch, to drown bis cries and aid in waking him

When, my lady, good-humour'd and kind, thoroughly. After keeping you in this state half an Said, her grandfather's age might an hindrance prove, hour, the coachman drives on, and you are greeted So fain wish'd to leave him behind.

with the muttered “d-n" of your opposite male * Then, my lord, all our friends are inclin'd to be fellow-passenger, as you pitch against him, and the gay,

whining "dear me ! ludily mercy” of the “ LADIES," And we must not have more than a dozen.” (to use the coachman's hyperbolical compliment to * Why then," cried my lord, " let your grandfather the gingham draped travellers,) on whom iu turn you stay,

recoil. And, my dear, we'll dispense with

4. A breakfast at a poor tavern, Domestic coffee,

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my cousin."

sweetened with maple sugar ; heavy, coarse bread – -no pleasant scenery–no pretty chambermaids. tough, cold ham. No napkins, no salt-spoons, no The day seems like a little eternity egg-cups, no toast, no nothing. You have now a

Nothing there is to come, and nothing past." view of your fellow-passengers, who are to bear you company throughout a long summer's day. And first corkscrewed up five pair of stairs to a littie, low,

9. Arrive at your destination - hotel full-are of the « ladies,"'-the sick child's cross mother-a red, fat, snuff-faced widow, and two old maids with dark chamber, with two beds. The servant vanishes faded silk gowns and gold necklaces. The men

under the artful pretence of filling your dressing ignorant and presuming, wrangling about manufac- pitcher, but returns not :- no bell-grope down to the tures and politics, and treating their salivary glands

bar- every one busy with the previous customers, in to a profusion of tobacco. You have a fine time to their new coats and smooth chins-barkeeper, from reflect on your folly, in leaving the charming, cheer- your muddy travelling frock and long beard, takes ful

breakfast at C='s, the strong, hot amber of the you for your own servant, and minds nothing you say coffee, the light French rolls, the Vauxhall ham,

- dressing to go out - find that every thing you want and, above all, the rosy, laughing girls, blooming and is precisely at the nadir of your trunk, which is not giggling from their morning slumbers, and full of the quite so hanıy as an elephant's — clothes full of amusements and sports of the day, — “ a longing, dandies in the reading and bar-rooms, nobody to

wrinkles - cravats yellow - quizzed by the native lingering look behind!"

5. As you are about to mount the mud-fleckered whom you have cards at home, your banker in the coach,


look with tardy prudence for your valise. country to stay a fortnight-little money and no creRemember, at this convenient season, you forgot it. dit-- see a fine girl in the street -- laughs at your You thus endure, like the man in the play, not only yankee coat instead of falling in love with you, comme disgrace and inconvenience, but positive loss. Forced de raison- find the reverse of the proverb about a to open your heavy, large, close-packed trunk twenty prophet in his own country true-treated rudely at times a day, for want of the valise as a tender. Your the table d'hóte-quarrel - no friend to take your imagination dwelling on it with nervous tenacity. note - make your dying arrangements ; no friend to So neat a valise—so convenient—all my dressing leave them with — bound over to keep the peace – 10 articles – the very valise I had abroad - how could I friend to be bail-get into the coach to return--every lose my valise ? &c. &c.

thing worse than before, because you have no cu6. A rough, stony road, wooden springs to the riosity to gratify, and have tired your body and mind carriage, the horses, as well as the driver, in spirits, into a state of querulous despondence.- Arrive at or deep clinging mud, lazy driver and tired horses- home, and learn that in your absence your firm las long stages of twelve or fifteen miles, with a heavy failed, and your mistress married your rival. load.

WHAT'S AN EPIGRAM. 7. Wishing to make a cross-cut, you are told that, at the next village, you will certainly find horses.

The first know'n English Epigram. Arrive, and while seeking the landlord, let the former A student at his book so plast, stage drive off. Find out that there are no horses in. That wealth he might have wonne, Perquisitions reluctantly and indolently made for you From book to wife did flete in haste, at the Doctor's, Squire L.'s, &c. unsuccessful, it being

From wealth to wo to run. the landlord's interest to detain you, and hence

Now who bath paid a feater cast, 8. A day at a country tavern, no books, amuse Since juggling first beganne ments, or company. (See Washington Irving's Stout In knitting of himself so fast, Gentleman ) 'No good wine- no agreeable prospect Himself he hath undone,


With greater ease than mad Orlando A clergyman preaching a charity.sermon, February

Tore the first tree he laid his band to. 4, 1778, at a church in the city, during his discourse He ought, in reason, to have raised his own pulled out of his pocket a newspaper, and read out Lot by knocking others down ; of it the following paragraph, viz.-On Sunday, the And had he been content with shaking 18th of January, two ponies ran on the Uxbridge His hammer and his hand, and taking road twenty miles for twenty guineas, and one gained Advantage of what brought him grist, he it by about half a head; both ponies ridden by their Might have been as rich as Christie ;owners. Also another paragraph of the like kind, But somehow when thy midnight bell, Bow, of a race on the Romford road, on a Sunday. He Sounded along Cheapside its knell, made an apology for reading part of a newspaper in Our spark was busy in Pall-mall the pulpit, said he believed it was the first instance Shaking his elbow,of the kind, and he sincerely wished that there never Marking, with paw upon his mazzard might be occasion for the like again. He then pointed The turns of hazard; out the heinous sin of Sabbath breaking.

Or rattling in a box the dice, Hugh Peters, one of the fanatics of Cromwell's

Which seem'd as if a grudge they bore time, preaching on Psalm cvii. 7." He led them

To Stubbs; for often in a trice, forth by the right way, that they might go to a city

Down on the nail be was compell’d to pay of habitation,”-told his audience that God was forty

All that his hammer brought him in the day,

And sometimes more. years leading Israel through the wilderness to CaDaan, which was not forty days' march; but that Thus, like a male Penelope, our wight, God's way was a great way about. He then made a What he had done by day undid at night, circumflex on his cushion, and said that the Israelites No wonder, therefore, if, like her were led “ crinkledom cum crankledom."

He was beset by clamorous brutes

Who crowded round him to prefer A preacher in a mosque began the history of Noah

Their several suits. with this text from the Koran :-" I have called Noah ;" but forgetting the rest of the verse, repeated

One Mr. Snipps, the tailor, had the longest the same words over and over. At length one of his

Bill for many suits-of raiment, hearers cried out, “If Noah will not come, call

And naturally thought he had the strongest

Claim for payment. somebody else.”

But debts of honour must be paid,

Whate'er becomes of debts of trade ;

And so our stylish auctioneer,
A city auctioneer, one Samuel Stubbs,

From month to month throughout the year,
Did greater execution with lis hammer,

Excuses, falsehoods, pleas alleges
Assisted by his puffing clamour,

Or flatteries, compliments, and pledges,
Than Gog and Magog with their clubs,

When in the latter mood one day Or that great Fee-fa-fum of war,

He squeezed his hand, and swore to pay, The Scandinavian Thor,

“ But when ?"—“Next month. You may deDid with his mallet, which (see Bryant's

pend on't Mythology) felld stoutest giants :

My dearest Snipps, before the end on't For Samuel knock'd down houses, churches, Your face proclaims in every feature, And woods of oak, and elms and birches,

You wouldn't harm a fellow-creature

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