SKETCHES BY SEYMOUR Part 4. [WATTY WILLIAMS AND BULL] "He sat, like patience on a monument, smiling at grief. " Watty Williams was a studious youth, with a long nose and a short pair oftrowsers; his delight was in the green fields, for he was one of thosephilosophers who can find sermons in stones, and good in everything. Oneday, while wandering in a meadow, lost in the perusal of Zimmerman onSolitude, he was suddenly aroused from his reverie by a loud "Moo!" and, turning about, he descried, to his dismay, a curly-fronted bull makingtowards him. Now, Watt. , was so good-humoured a fellow, that he could laugh at anIrish bull, and withal, so staunch a Protestant, that a papal bull onlyexcited a feeling of pity and contempt; but a bull of the breed which wascareering towards him in such lively bounds, alarmed him beyond allbounds; and he forthwith scampered over the meadow from the pugnaceousanimal with the most agile precipitation imaginable; for he was not oneof those stout-hearted heroes who could take the bull by thehorns--especially as the animal appeared inclined to contest the meadowwith him; and though so fond of beef (as he naturally was), he declined around upon the present occasion. Seeing no prospect of escape by leaping stile or hedge, he hopped thegreen turf like an encaged lark, and happily reached a pollard in themidst of the meadow. Climbing up with the agility of a squirrel, he seated himself on theknobby summit of the stunted willow. Still retaining his Zimmerman and his senses, he looked down and beheldthe corniferous quadruped gamboling playfully round his singular asylum. "Very pleasant!" exclaimed he; "I suppose, old fellow you want to have agame at toss!--if so, try it on with your equals, for you must see, ifyou have any gumption, that Watty Williams is above you. Aye, you mayroar!--but if I sit here till Aurora appears in the east, you won't catchme winking. What a pity it is you cannot reflect as well as ruminate;you would spare yourself a great deal of trouble, and me a little frightand inconvenience. " The animal disdainfully tossed his head, and ran at the tree--and "Away flew the light bark!" in splinters, but the trunk remained unmoved. "Shoo! shoo!" cried Watty, contemptuously; but he found that shoo'inghorns was useless; the beast still butted furiously against the harmlesspollard. "Hallo!" cried he to a dirty boy peeping at a distance--"Hallo!" but thelad only looked round, and vanished in an instant. "The little fool's alarmed, I do believe!" said he; "He's only a cow-boy, I dare say!" And with this sapient, but unsatisfactory conclusion, heopened his book, and read aloud, to keep up his courage. The bull hearing his voice, looked up with a most melancholy leer, thecorners of his mouth drawn down with an expression of pathetic gravity. Luckily for Watty, the little boy had given information of his dilemma, and the farmer to whom the bull belonged came with some of his men, andrescued him from his perilous situation. "The gentleman will stand something to drink, I hope?" said one of themen. "Certainly" said Watty. "That's no more than right, " said the farmer, "for, according to the NewPolice Act, we could fine you. " "What for?" "Why, we could all swear that when we found you, you were so elevated youcould not walk!" Hereupon his deliverers set up a hearty laugh. Watty gave them half-a-crown; saying, with mock gravity-- "I was on a tree, and you took me off--that was kind! I was in a fright, and you laughed at me; that was uncharitable. Farewell!" DELICACY! Lounging in Hyde Park with the facetious B____, all on a summer's day, just at that period when it was the fashion to rail against the beautifulstatue, erected by the ladies of England, in honour of the GreatCaptain-- "The hero of a hundred fights, "-- "How proudly must he look from the windows of Apsley House, " said I, "upon this tribute to his military achievements. " "No doubt, " replied B____; and with all that enthusiasm with which oneman of mettle ever regards another! At the same time, how lightly musthe hold the estimation of the gallant sons of Britain, when he reflectsthat he has been compelled to guard his laurelled brow from the randombullets of a democratic mob, by shot-proof blinds to his noble mansion:this was: 'The unkindest cut of all, ' after all his hair-breadth 'scapes, by flood and field, in the service. Of his country, to be compelled to fortify his castle against domesticfoes. " "A mere passing cloud, that can leave no lasting impression on his greatmind, " said I; "while this statue will for ever remain, a memorial of hisgreat deeds; and yet the complaint is general that the statue isindelicate--as if, forsooth, this was the first statue exhibited in'puris naturalibus' in England. I really regard it as the senselesscavilling of envious minds. " "True, " said B____, laughing; "there is a great deal of railing about thefigure, but we can all see through it!" at the same time thrusting hiswalking-stick through the iron-fence that surrounds the pedestal. As fordelicacy, it is a word that is used so indiscriminately, and has so manysignifications, according to the mode, that few people rightly understandits true meaning. We say, for instance, a delicate child; andpork-butchers recommend a delicate pig! Delicacy and indelicacy dependon the mind of the recipient, and is not so much in the object as theobserver, rely on't. Some men have a natural aptitude in discovering theindelicate, both in words and figures they appear, in a manner, to seekfor it. I assure you that. I (you may laugh if you will) have oftenbeen put to the blush by the repetition of some harmless phrase, droppedinnocently from my lips, and warped by one of these 'delicate' gentlemento a meaning the very reverse of what I intended to convey. Like menwith green spectacles, they look upon every object through an artificialmedium, and give it a colour that has no existence in itself! It was only last week, I was loitering about this very spot, when Iobserved, among the crowd of gazers, a dustman dressed in his best, andhis plump doxy, extravagantly bedizened in her holiday clothes, hangingon his arm. As they turned away, the lady elevated the hem of her rather shortgarments a shade too high (as the delicate dustman imagined) above herancle. He turned towards her, and, in an audible whisper, said, 'Delicacy, my love--'delicacy!'--'Lawks, Fred!' replied the damsel, witha loud guffaw, '--'it's not fashionable!--besides, vot's the good o'having a fine leg, if one must'nt show it?' So much for opinions on delicacy! "NOW JEM--" "Now, Jem, let's shew these gals how we can row. " The tide is agin us, I know, But pull away, Jem, like a trump;Vot's that? O! my vig, it's a barge--Oh! criky! but that vos a bump! How lucky 'twas full o' round coals, Or ve might ha' capsized her--perhaps!See, the bargemen are grinning, by goles!I never seed sich wulgar chaps. Come, pull away, Jem, like a man, A vherry's a coming alongVith a couple o' gals all agog--So let us be first in the throng. Now put your scull rig'ler in, Don't go for to make any crabs;But feather your oar, like a nob, And show 'em ve're nothink but dabs! The vaterman's leering at us, And the gals is a giggling so--They take us for green'uns, but veVill soon show 'em how ve can row. Alas! for poor Bobby's "show off"--He slipp'd in a trice from his seat--While his beaver fell into the stream, And the gals laugh'd aloud at his feat. For his boots were alone to be seen, As he sprawled like a crab on its back;While the waterman cried--"Ho! my lads!I think you'd best try t'other tack!" Says Bobby--"You fool, it's your fault;Look--my best Sunday castor is vet:Pull ashore, then, as fast as you can. I can't row no more--I'm upset. "I think that my napper is broke, Abumpin' agin this wile boat;You may laugh--but I think it's no joke:And I shan't soon agin be afloat. "I'll never take you out agin--I've had quite enough in this bout!"Cried Jem--"Don't be angry vith me;Sit still, and I'll soon--PUT YOU OUT!" STEAMING IT TO MARGATE. "Steward, bring me a glass of brandy as quick as you can. " Since the invention of steam, thousands have been tempted to inhale thesaline salubrity of the sea, that would never have been induced to try, and be tried, by the experiment of a trip. Like hams for the market, every body is now regularly salted and smoked. The process, too, is socheap! The accommodations are so elegant, and the sailors so smart! Noneof the rolling roughness of quid-chewing Jack-tars. Jack-tars! pshaw!they are regular smoke jacks on board a steamer! The Steward ("waiter"by half the cockneys called) is so ready and obliging; and then theprovisions is excellent. Who would not take a trip to Margate? There'sonly one thing that rather adulterates the felicity--a drop of gall inthe cup of mead!--and that is the horrid sea-sickness! learnedly callednostalgia; but call it by any name you please, like a stray dog, it ispretty sure to come. The cold perspiration--the internal commotion--the brain's giddiness--theutter prostration of strength--the Oh! I never shall forget thedeath-like feel!--Fat men rolling on the deck, like fresh caughtporpoises; little children floundering about; and white muslins andparasols vanishing below! The smoking-hot dinner sends up its fumes, andmakes the sick more sick. Soda-water corks are popping and flying aboutin every direction, like a miniature battery pointed against the assaultsof the horrid enemy! "Steward!" faintly cries a fat bilious man, "bring me a glass of brandyas quick as you can. " But alas! he who can thus readily summon spirits from the vasty deep, hasno power over the rolling sea, or its reaches! "O! my poor pa!" exclaims the interesting Wilhelmina; and is so overcome, that she, sweet sympathizer! is soon below pa in the ladies' cabin. Infact, the greater part of the pleasure-seekers are taken--at full length. Even young ladies from boarding-school, who are thinking of husbands, declare loudly against maritime delight! while all the single young menappear double. The pier at last appears--and the cargo of drooping souls hail it withdelight, and with as grateful a reverence as if they were received by thegreatest peer of the realm! They hurry from the boat as if 'twere Charon's, and they were aboutstepping into the fields of Elysium! A change comes o'er the spirit of their dream--their nerves are braced;and so soon are mortal troubles obliterated from the mind, that in a fewdays they are ready again to tempt the terrors of sea-sickness in avoyage homewards--notwithstanding many of them, in their extremity, hadvowed that they never would return by water, if they outlived the presentinfliction; considering, naturally enough, that it was "all up" withthem! PETER SIMPLE'S FOREIGN ADVENTURE. "Loud roared the dreadful thunder. "--Bay of Biscay. The good ship Firefly tossed and tumbled on the mountainous waves of thestormy sea, like a cork in a gutter; and when she could not stem thewaves, politically tried a little tergiversation, and went sternforemost! The boatswain piped all hands, and poor Peter Simple piped hiseye; for the cry of the whole crew was, that they were all going to DavyJones's locker. The waves struck her so repeatedly, that at last sheappeared as ungovernable as a scold in a rage; and as she found she couldnot, by any means, strike the storm in the wind, and so silence it, shegave vent to her fury by striking upon a rock! It was a hard alternative truly; but what could she do? The long boatwas soon alongside, and was not long before it was filled with tars andsalt-water. Alas! she was speedily swamped, and the crew were compelledto swim for their lives. Peter, however, could not swim, but the seagave him a lift in his dilemma, and washed him clean ashore, where he layfor some time like a veritable lump of salt-Peter! When the storm hadabated he came to himself, and of course found himself in no agreeablecompany! Sticking his cocked-hat on his head, and grasping his dirk in his hand, he tottered to a rock, when, seating himself, he philosophically rockedto and fro. "Oh! vy vos I a midshipman, " cried he, "to be wrecked onthis desolate island? I vish I vos at home at Bloomsbury! Oh! that Ihad but to turn and embrace my kind, good, benevolent, and much respectedgrandmother. " As he uttered this pathetic plaint, he heard a chatter--ofwhich, at first considering that it proceeded from his own teeth, he tookno notice--but the sounds being repeated, he turned his head, and behelda huge baboon with a dog-face and flowing hair, grinning with admirationat his cocked hat. One look was sufficient! he leaped from his seat, and rushed wildlyforward, threading a wood in his way, and turning in and out--in and out--with the sharpness and facility of a needle in the heel of a worstedstocking--he never stayed his flight, 'till he fell plump into the centreof a group of Indians, who received him with a yell!--loud enough tosplit the drums of a whole drawing-room full of ears polite. He would have fallen headlong with fear and exhaustion upon the turf, hadnot a gentle female caught the slender youth in her arms, and embracedhim with all the energetic affection of a boa-constrictor. Peter trembled like a little inoffensive mouse in the claws of a tabby! At the same time one of the Indians stepped forward, brandishing hisscalping knife. He was the very prototype of an animated bronze Hercules; and, seizingthe poor middy's lank locks, with a peculiar twist, in his irongrasp--Peter fainted! PETER SIMPLE'S FOREIGN ADVENTURE. No. II. "O! what a lost mutton am I!"--Inkle and Yarico. Most luckily for poor Peter was it, that he fell into the hands, orrather the arms, of the Indian maid; for she not only preserved his crop, but his life. When he recovered from his swoon, he found himself seatedbeside his preserver, who, with one arm round his waist, was holding acocoa-nut, filled with a refreshing beverage, to his parched and pallidlips. A large fire blazed in the middle of the wide space occupied bythe Indians, and he beheld the well-known coats and jackets of the bravecrew of the Firefly scattered on the greensward. His heart palpitated-he thought at first that the villainous Indians hadstripped them, and left them to wander in a state of nature through thetangled and briery woods. He was, however, soon--too soon--convincedthat the savages had dressed them! Yes, that merry crew--who had sooften roasted him--had been roasted by the Indians! From this awful fate the lovely Ootanga had preserved him. She hadsuddenly conceived a violent affection for the young white-face; and, after a long harangue to the chief, her father, his consent was obtained, and the nuptials were celebrated. "I smell a rat, " said Peter--"I'm booked; but better booked than cooked, at any rate;" and forthwith returned thanks to the company for the honourthey had conferred upon him, in the fashion of an after-dinner speech, accompanied with as much pantomime as he could manage. A dance and a feast followed, of which Peter partook; but whether rabbit, squirrel, or monkey, formed the basis of his wedding-supper, he was notnaturalist enough to determine. Ootanga's affection, however, was sufficient to make amends for anything;she was, in truth, a most killing beauty, for she brought him tigersslain by her own hands, and made a couch for him of the skins. She caught rattlesnakes for him, and spitch-cooked them for hisbreakfast. In fact, there was nothing she left undone to convince him ofher unbounded love. Peter's heart, however, was untouched by all this show of tenderness; forthe fact is, he had already given his heart to a white-face in his owncountry. The only consolation he had in his forlorn situation was to talk of hercontinually; and, as Ootanga understood not a syllable of what heuttered, she naturally applied all his tender effusions to herself, andlaughed and grinned, and showed her white teeth, as if she would devourher little husband. Seated on a tiger skin, with his lawful spouse beside him, arrayed inshells, bows, feathers, and all the adornments of a savage bride, hestill sighed for home, and plaintively exclaimed:-- "Here I am, married to the only daughter of the great chief, who wouldhave roasted me with the rest of our crew, had I not given a joyfulconsent. Oh! I wonder if I ever shall get home, and be married to MissWiggins!!!" The lovely wide-mouthed Ootanga patted him fondly on the chin, anddreamed in her ignorance that he was paying her a compliment in hisnative language. DOBBS'S "DUCK. " A LEGEND OF HORSELYDOWN. It may be accepted as an indubitable truth, that when the tenderestepithets are bandied between a married couple, that the domestic affairsdo not go particularly straight. Dobbs and his rib were perhaps the most divided pair that ever were yokedby Hymen. D. Was a good-humored fellow, a jovial blade, full of highspirits--while his wife was one of the most cross-grained andcantankerous bodies that ever man was blessed with--and yet, to hear thesweet diminutives which they both employed in their dialogues, the worldwould have concluded that they were upon the best terms conceivable. "My love, " quoth Mrs. D. , "I really now should like to take a boat androw down the river as far as Battersea; the weather is so very fine, andyou know, my dear love, how fond I am of the water. " D. Could have added (and indeed it was upon the very tip of histongue)--"mixed with spirits"--but he wisely restrained the impertinentallusion. "Well, my duck, " said he, "you have only to name the day, you know, I amalways ready to please, "--and then, as was his habit, concluded hisgracious speech by singing-- "'Tis woman vot seduces all mankind--Their mother's teach them the wheedling art. " "Hold your nonsense, do, " replied Mrs. D____, scarcely able to restrainher snappish humour, but, fearful of losing the jaunt, politically added, "Suppose, love, we go to-day--no time like the present, dear. " "Thine am I--thine am I, " sang the indulgent husband. And Mrs. D____ hereupon ordered the boy to carry down to the stairs acargo of brandy, porter, and sandwiches, for the intended voyage, andtaking her dear love in the humour, presently appeared duly decked outfor the trip. Two watermen and a wherry were soon obtained, and Dobbs, lighting hiscigar, alternately smoked and sang, while his duck employed herself mostagreeably upon the sandwiches. The day was bright and sunny, and exceedingly hot; and they had scarcelyrowed as far as the Red-House, when Mrs. D____became rather misty, fromthe imbibation of the copious draughts she had swallowed to quench herthirst. A lighter being a-head, the boatmen turned round, while Dobbs, casting uphis eyes to the blue heavens, was singing, in the hilarity of his heart, "Hearts as warm as those above, lie under the waters cold, " when the boatheeled, and his duck, who unfortunately could not swim, slipped gentlyover the gunwhale, and, unnoticed, sank to rise no more. "Ah!" said Dobbs, when, some months afterwards, he was speaking of thesad bereavement, "She was a wife! I shall never get such another, and, what's more, I would not if I could. " STRAWBERRIES AND CREAM. Among all the extraordinary and fantastic dishes compounded for thepalate of Heliogabalus, the Prince of Epicures, that delicious admixtureof the animal and the vegetable--Strawberries and Cream--is nevermentioned in the pages of the veracious chronicler of his gastronomicfeats! Yes! 'tis a lamentable truth, this smooth, oleaginous, and delicatelyodorous employment for the silver spoon, was unknown. Should theknowledge of his loss reach him in the fields of Elysium, will not hissteps be incontinently turned towards the borders of the Styx--hisplaintive voice hail the grim ferryman, while in his most persuasivetones he cries-- "Row me back--row me back, " that he may enjoy, for a brief space, this untasted pleasure? Ye gods!in our mind's eye we behold the heartless and unfeeling Charon refuse hisearnest prayer, and see his languid spirit--diluted by disappointment toinsipidity--wandering over the enamelled meads, as flat and shallow as anoverflow in the dank fens of Lincoln. His imagination gloats upon the fragrant invention, and he gulps at thecheating shadow until Elysium becomes a perfect Hades to his torturedspirit. Mellow, rich, and toothsome compound! Toothsome did we say? Nay, eventhose who have lost their 'molares, incisores, ' canine teeth, 'dentessapientiae, ' and all can masticate and inwardly digest thee! Racy and recherche relish! Thou art-- As delicate as first love--As white and red as a maiden's cheek--As palateable as well-timed flattery--As light and filling as the gas of a balloon--As smooth as a courtier--As odorous as the flowers of Jasmin---As soft as flos silk--As encouraging, without being so illusory, as Hope--As tempting as green herbage to lean kine-------------- a Chancery suit to the Bill of a cormorant-lawyer-------------- a pump to a thirsty paviour-------------- a sun-flower to a bee-------------- a ripe melon to a fruit-knife-------------- a rose to a nightingale--or------------ a pot of treacle to a blue-bottle--As beautiful to the eye as a page of virgin-vellum richly illuminatedAndAs satisfactory as a fat legacy! Talk of nectar! if Jupiter should really wish to give a bonne-bouche toJuno, Leda, or Venus, or any one of his thousand and one flames, let himskim the milky-way--transform the instrumental part of the music of thespheres into 'hautboys, ' and compound the only dish worth the roseatelips of the gentle dames 'in nubibus, ' and depend on it, the cups ofGanymede and Hebe will be rejected for a bowl of--Strawberries and Cream. A DAY'S PLEASURE. --No. I. THE JOURNEY OUT. "It's werry hot, but werry pleasant. " Says Mrs. Sibson to her spouse"The days is hot and fair;I think 'twould do the children goodTo get a little hair! "For ve've been moping here at homeAnd nothin' seen o' life;Vhile neighbor Jones he takes his jauntsO' Sundays vith his vife!" "Vell! vell! my dear, " quoth Mr. S____"Let's hear vot you purpose;I'm al'ays ready to comply, As you, my love, vell knows. "I'll make no bones about the cost;You knows I never stickAbout a trifle to amuse, So, dearest Pol, be quick. " "Vhy, this is it:--I think ve mightTo Hornsey have a day;Maria, Peg, and Sal, and BetVe'd pack into a 'chay. ' "Our Jim and Harry both could valk, (God bless their little feet!)The babby in my arms I'd take--I'm sure 'twould be a treat;" Quoth he: "I am unanimous!"And so the day was fix'd;And forth they started in good trim, Tho' not with toil umnix'd. Across his shoulders Sibson boreA basket with the "grub, "And to the "chay" perform'd the "horse, "Lest Mrs. S____ should snub. Apollo smiled!--that is, the sunBlazed in a cloudless sky, And Sibson soon was in a "broil"By dragging of his "fry. " Says S____, "My love, I'm dry as dust!"When she replied, quite gay, "Then, drink; for see I've bottled upMy spirits for the day. " And from the basket drew a flask, And eke a footless glass;He quaff'd the drink, and cried, "Now, dear, I'm strong as ____" let that pass! At last they reach'd the destined spotAnd prop and babes unpacked;They ran about, and stuff'd, and cramm'd, And really nothing lack'd. And Sibson, as he "blew a cloud, "Declared, "It vos a day!"And vow'd that he would come again--Then call'd for "Vot's to pay?" A DAY'S PLEASURE. --No. II. THE JOURNEY HOME. "Vot a soaking ve shall get. " Across the fields they homeward trudged, when, lo! a heavy rainCame pouring from the sky;Poor Sibson haul'd, the children squall'd; alas! it was too plainThey would not reach home dry. With clay-clogg'd wheels, and muddy heels, and Jim upon his back, He grumbled on his way;"Vell, blow my vig! this is a rig!" cried Sibson, "Vell! alack!I shan't forget this day! "My shoes is sop, my head's a mop; I'm vet as any think;Oh! shan't ve cotch a cold!""Your tongue is glib enough!" his rib exclaim'd, and made him shrink, --For she was such a scold-- And in her eye he could descry a spark that well he knewInto a flame would rise;So he was dumb, silent and glum, as the small "chay" he drew, And ventured no replies. Slip, slop, and slush! past hedge and bush, the dripping mortals go(Tho' 'twas "no go" S____ thought);"If this 'ere's fun, vy I for vuu, " cried he, with face of woe, "Von't soon again be caught. "Vet to the skin, thro' thick and thin, to trapes ain't to my mind;So the next holidayI vill not roam, but stick at home, for there at least I'll findThe means to soak my clay. "Tis quite a fag, this 'chay' to drag--the babbies too is cross, And Mrs. S____ is riled. 'Tis quite a bore; the task is more--more fitt'rer for an horse;And vith the heat I'm briled! "No, jaunts adoo! I'll none o' you!"--and soon they reach'd their home, Wet through and discontent--"Sure sich a day, I needs must say, " exclaim'd his loving spouse, "Afore I never spent!" HAMMERING "Beside a meandering streamThere sat an old gentleman fat;On the top of his head was his wig, On the top of his wig was his hat. " I once followed a venerable gentleman along the banks of a mill-stream, armed at all points with piscatorial paraphernalia, looking out for someappropriate spot, with all the coolness of a Spanish inquisitor, displaying his various instruments of refined torture. He at lastperched himself near the troubled waters, close to the huge revolvingwheel, and threw in his float, which danced upon the mimic waves, andbobbed up and down, as if preparing for a reel. Patiently he sat; asmotionless and unfeeling as a block. I placed myself under cover of anadjoining hedge, and watched him for the space of half an hour; but hepulled up nothing but his baited hook;--what his bait was, I know not;but I suppose, from the vicinity, he was fishing for a "miller's thumb. "Presently, two mealy-mouthed men, from the mill, made their appearance, cautiously creeping behind him. I drew myself up in the shadow of the luxuriant quickset to observe theirnotions. A paling in the rear offered the rogues an effectual concealment in casethe angler should turn. Close to his seat ran some wood-work, upon which they quietly drew thebroad tails of his coat, and driving in a couple of tenpenny nails, leftthe unconscious old gentleman a perfect fixture; to be taken at avaluation, I suppose, part of his personal property being already"brought to the hammer!" the clattering clamour of the wheel precludinghim from hearing the careful, but no less effectual taps. I certainlyenjoyed the trick, and longed to see the ridiculous issue; but he was sointent upon his sport--so fixed that he did not discover the nature ofhis real attachment while I remained. Doubtless if he were of a quick and sudden temperament, a snatch of hishumour rent his broad cloth, and he returned home with a woful tail, andslept not--for his nap was irreparably destroyed! I hate all twaddle; but when I see an old fool, with rod and line, "Sitting like patience on a monument, " and selling the remnant of his life below cost price in the pursuit ofangling, --that "art of ingeniously tormenting, "--a feeling, "More in sorrow than in anger, " is excited at his profitless inhumanity. Vainly do all the disciples of honest Izaak Walton discourse, ineulogistic strains, of the pleasure of the sport. I can imagine neitherpleasure nor sport derivable from the infliction of pain upon the meanestthing endowed with life. This may be deemed Brahminical, but I doubt that man's humanity who canindulge in the cruel recreation and murder while he smiles. "What, heretical sentiments, " exclaims some brother of the angle, (now Iam an angle, but no angler. ) "This fellow hath never trudged at earlydawn along the verdant banks of the 'sedgy lea, ' and drunk in the dewyfreshness of the morning air. His lines have never fallen in pleasantplaces. He has never performed a pilgrimage to Waltham Cross. He is, intruth, one of those vulgar minds who take more delight in the simple thanthe--gentle!--and every line of his deserves a rod!" PRACTICE. "Sweet is the breath of morn when she ascendsWith charm of earliest birds. "---MILTON. "Well, this is a morning!" emphatically exclaimed a stripling, with amouth and eyes formed by Nature of that peculiar width and power ofdistension, so admirably calculated for the expression of stupid wonderor surprise; while his companion, elevating his nasal organ andprojecting his chin, sniffed the fresh morning breeze, as they trudgedthrough the dewy meadows, and declared that it was exactly for all theworld similar-like to reading Thomson's Seasons! In which apt andappropriate simile the other concurred. "Tom's a good fellow to lend us his gun, " continued he--"I only hope itain't given to tricking, that's all. I say, Sugarlips, keep your powderdry. " "Leave me alone for that, " replied Sugarlips; "I know a thing or two, although this is the first time that ever I have been out. What ascuffling the birds do make"--added he, peeping into the cage which theyhad, as a precautionary measure, stocked with sparrows, in order thatthey might not be disappointed in their sport--"How they long to be onthe wing!" "I'll wing 'em, presently!" cried his comrade, with a vaunting air--" andlook if here ain't the very identical spot for a display of my skill. Pick out one of the best and biggest, and tie up a-top of yonder stile, and you shall soon have a specimen of my execution. " Sugarlips quicklydid his bidding. "Now--come forward and stand back! What do ye think o' that, ey?" saidthe sportsman--levelling his gun, throwing back his head, closing hissinister ocular, and stretching out his legs after the manner of theColossus of Rhodes--"Don't you admire my style?" "Excellent!" said Sugarlips--"But I think I could hit it. " "What?" "Why, the stile to be sure. " "Keep quiet, can't you--Now for it--" and, trembling with eagerness, hishand pulled the trigger, but no report followed. "The deuce is in thegun, " cried he, lowering it, and examining the lock; "What can ail it?" "Why, I'll be shot if that ain't prime, " exclaimed Sugarlips, laughingoutright. "What do you mean?" "I've only forgot the priming--that's all. " "There's a pretty fellow, you are, for a sportsman. " "Well, it's no matter as it happens; for, though 'Time and tide wait forno man, ' a sparrow tied must, you know. There! that will do. " "Sure you put the shot in now?" "If you put the shot into Dicky as surely, he'll never peck groundselagain, depend on it. " Again the "murderous tube" was levelled; Sugarlips backed against anadjoining wall, with a nervous adhesiveness that evidently proved himless fearful of a little mortar than a great gun! "That's right; out of the way, Sugarlips; I am sure I shall hit him thistime. " And no sooner had he uttered this self-congratulatory assurance(alas! not life-assurance!) than a report (most injurious to the innocentcock-sparrow) was heard in the neighbourhood! "Murder!--mur-der!" roared a stentorian voice, which made the criniferouscoverings of their craniums stand on end "Like quills upon the fretful porcupine. " In an instant the sportsman let fall his gun, and Sugarlips ranaffrighted towards the stile. He found it really "vox et pretereanihil;" for a few feathers of the bird alone were visible: he had beenblown to nothing; and, peeping cautiously round the angle of the wall, hebeheld a portly gentleman in black running along with the unwieldy gaitof a chased elephant. "Old Flank'em, of the Finishing Academy, by jingo!" exclaimed Sugarlips. "It's a mercy we didn't finish him! Why, he must actually have been onthe point of turning the corner. I think we had better be off; for, ifthe old dominie catches us, he will certainly liberate our sparrows, and--put us in the cage!" But, where's the spoil?" "Spoil, indeed!" cried Sugarlips; "you've spoiled him nicely. I've anidea, Tom, you were too near, as the spendthrift nephew said of hismiserly uncle. If you can't get an aim at a greater distance, you'dnever get a name as a long shot--that's my mind. " PRECEPT. Uncle Samson was a six-bottle man. His capacity was certainly great, whatever might be said of his intellect; for I have seen him rise withoutthe least appearance of elevation, after having swallowed the customaryhalf dozen. He laughed to scorn all modern potations of wishy-washyFrench and Rhine wines--deeming them unfit for the palate of a true-bornEnglishman. Port, Sherry, and Madeira were his only tipple--the rest, hewould assert, were only fit for finger-glasses! --He was of a bulky figure, indeed a perfect Magnum among men, with avery apoplectic brevity of neck, and a logwood complexion, --and though astaunch Church-of-England-man, he might have been mistaken, from hispredilection for the Port, to be a true Mussulman. To hear him discourseupon the age of his wines--the 'pinhole, ' the 'crust, ' the 'bees'-wing, 'etc. , was perfectly edifying--and every man who could not imbibe theprescribed quantum, became his butt. To temperance and tea-totalsocieties he attributed the rapid growth of radicalism and dissent. "Water, " he would say, with a sort of hydrophobic shudder, "is only a fitbeverage for asses!"--"To say a man could drink like a fish, was once thegreatest encomium that a bon-vivant could bestow upon a brotherBacchanalian--but, alas! in this matter-of-fact and degenerate age, mendo so literally--washing their gills with unadulterated water!--Dropsyand water on the chest must be the infallible result! If such an orderof things continue, all the puppies in the kingdom, who would perhapshave become jolly dogs in their time, will be drowned! Yes, they'llinevitably founder, like a water-logged vessel, in sight of port. Thesewater-drinkers will not have a long reign. They would feign persuade usthat 'Truth lies at the bottom of a well, '--lies, indeed! I tell youHorace knew better, and that his assertion of 'There is truth in wine, 'was founded on experience--his draughts had no water-mark in 'em, dependon it. " He was a great buyer of choice "Pieces, " and his cellar contained one ofthe best stocks in the kingdom, both in the wood and bottle. PoorUncle!--he has now been some years "in the wood" himself, and snuglystowed in the family vault! Having been attacked with a severe cold, he was compelled to call in theDoctor, who sent him a sudorific in three Lilliputian bottles; butalthough he received the advice of his medical friend, he followedShakspeare's, "Throw physic to the dogs, " and prescribed for himself a bowl of wine-whey as a febrifuge. Hishousekeeper remonstrated, but he would have his 'whey, ' and he died!leaving a handsome fortune, and two good-looking nephews to follow him tothe grave. Myself and Cousin (the two nephews aforesaid) were vast favourites withthe old gentleman, and strenuously did he endeavour to initiate us in theart of drinking, recounting the feats of his youth, and hisdrinking-bouts with my father, adding, with a smile, "But you'll never bea par with, your Uncle, Ned, till you can carry the six bottles underyour waistcoat. " My head was certainly stronger than my Cousin's; he went as far as thethird bottle--the next drop was on the floor! Now I did once manage thefourth bottle--but then--I must confess I was obliged to give it up! "Young men, " would my Uncle say, "should practice 'sans intermission, 'until they can drink four bottles without being flustered, then they willbe sober people; for it won't be easy to make them tipsy--a drunken man Iabominate!" EXAMPLE. "You see I make no splash!" There are some individuals so inflated with self-sufficiency, andentertain such an overweaning opinion of their skill in all matters, thatthey must needs have a finger in every pie. Perhaps a finer specimen than old V____, of this genius of egotistic, meddling mortals, never existed. He was a man well-to-do in the world, and possessed not only a large fortune, but a large family. He had an idea that no man was better qualified to bring up his childrenin the way they should go; and eternally plagued the obsequious tutors ofhis sons with his novel mode of instilling the rudiments of the Latintongue, although he knew not a word of the language; and the obedientmistresses of his daughters with his short road to attaining a perfectionin playing the piano-forte, without knowing a note of the gamut: but whatcould they say; why, nothing more or less than they were 'astonished;'which was vague enough to be as true as it was flattering. And then he was so universally clever, that he even interfered in theculinary department of his household, instructing the red-elbowed, greasy, grinning Cook, in the sublime art of drawing, stuffing, androasting a goose, for which she certainly did not fail to roast the goose(her master) when she escaped to the regions below. Even his medical attendant was compelled to acknowledge the efficacy ofhis domestic prescriptions of water-gruel and honey in catarrhs, androasted onions in ear-aches, and sundry other simple appliances; and, infine, found himself, on most occasions, rather a 'consulting surgeon, 'than an apothecary, for he was compelled to yield to the man who hadstudied Buchan's and Graham's Domestic Medicine. And the onlyconsolation he derived from his yielding affability, were the long billsoccasioned by the mistakes of this domestic quack, who was continuallyrunning into errors, which required all his skill to repair. Nay, hiswife's mantua-maker did not escape his tormenting and impertinent advice;for he pretended to a profound knowledge in all the modes, from the timeof Elizabeth to Victoria, and deemed his judgment in frills, flounces, and corsages, as undeniable and infallible. Of course the sempstress flattered his taste; for his wife, poor soul!she soon had tact enough to discover, had no voice in the business. His eldest son, George, had a notion that he could angle. Old V____immediately read himself up in Walton, and soon convinced--himself, thathe was perfect in that line, and quite capable of teaching the whole artand mystery. "See, George, " said he, when they had arrived at a convenient spot fortheir first attempt, "this is the way to handle your tackle; drop itgently into the water, --so!" and, twirling the line aloft, he hooked thebranches of an overhanging tree!--sagaciously adding, "You see I make nosplash! and hold your rod in this manner!" George was too much afraid of his imperious father, to point out hiserror, and old V____ consequently stood in the broiling sun for a fullquarter of an hour, before he discovered that he had caught a birchinstead of a perch! A MUSICAL FESTIVAL. Matter-of-fact people read the story of Orpheus, and imagine that his"charming rocks" and "soothing savage beasts, " is a mere fabulousinvention. No such thing: it is undoubtedly founded on fact. Nay, wecould quote a thousand modern instances of the power of music quite asastonishing. One most true and extraordinary occurrence will suffice to establish thetruth of our proposition beyond a doubt. Molly Scraggs was a cook in afirst-rate family, in the most aristocratic quarter of the metropolis. The master and mistress were abroad, and Molly had nothing to do but toindulge her thoughts; and, buried as she was in the pleasant gloom andquiet of an underground kitchen, nothing could possibly be morefavourable to their developement. She was moreover exceedingly plump, tender, and sentimental, and had had a lover, who had proved false to hisvows. In this eligible situation and temper for receiving soft impressions, shesat negligently rocking herself in her chair, and polishing the lid of acopper saucepan! when the sweet, mellifluous strains of an itinerant bandstruck gently upon the drum of her ear. "Wapping Old Stairs" wasdistinctly recognized, and she mentally repeated the words so applicableto her bereaved situation. "Your Molly has never proved false she declares, " 'till the tearsliterally gushed from her "blue, blue orbs, " and trickled down her plumpand ruddy cheeks; but scarcely had she plunged into the very depths ofthe pathos induced by the moving air, which threatened to throw her intoa gentle swoon, or kicking hysterics, when her spirit was aroused by thesudden change of the melancholy ditty, to the rampant and lively tune, with the popular burden of, "Turn about and wheel about, and jump JimCrow!" This certainly excited her feelings; but, strange to say, it made herleap from her chair, exasperated, as it were, by the sudden revulsion, and rush into the area. "Don't, for goodness sake, play that horrid 'chune, '" said Molly, emphatically addressing the minstrels. The 'fiddle' immediately put his instrument under his arm, and, touchingthe brim of his napless hat, scraped a sort of bow, and smilingly askedthe cook to name any other tune she preferred. "Play us, " said she, "'Oh! no, we never mention her, ' or summat o' thatsort; I hate jigs and dances mortally. " "Yes, marm, " replied the 'fiddle, ' obsequiously; and, whispering the'harp' and 'bass, ' they played the air to her heart's content. In fact, if one might guess by the agility with which she ran into thekitchen, she was quite melted; and, returning with the remnants of agooseberry pie and the best part of a shoulder of mutton, she handed themto the musicians. "Thanky'e, marm, I'm sure, " said the 'bass, ' sticking his teeth into thepie-crust. "The mutton 's rayther fat, but it 's sweet, at any rate--" "Yes, marm, " said the 'fiddle;' "it's too fat for your stomach, I'm sure, marm;" and consigned it to his green-baize fiddle-case. "Now, " said Molly, --"play us, 'Drink to me only, ' and I'll draw you a mugo' table-ale. " "You're vastly kind, " said the 'fiddle;' "it's a pleasure to play anythinkfor you, marm, you've sich taste;" and then turning to his comrades, headded, with a smile--"By goles! if she ain't the woppingest cretur asever I set eyes on--" The tune required was played, and the promised ale discussed. The'bass, ' with a feeling of gratitude, voted that they should give aparting air unsolicited. "Vot shall it be?" demanded the 'harp. ' "Vy, considering of her size, " replied the 'fiddle, ' "I thinks as nothinkcouldn't be more appropriate than 'Farewell to the mountain!'" and, striking up, they played the proposed song, marching on well pleasedwith the unexpected appreciation of their musical talent by the kind, andmunificent Molly Scraggs! THE EATING HOUSE. From twelve o'clock until four, the eating houses of the City are crammedwith hungry clerks. Bills of fare have not yet been introduced, --the more's the pity; but, inlieu thereof, you are no sooner seated in one of the snug inviting littlesettles, with a table laid for four or six, spread with a snowy cloth, still bearing the fresh quadrangular marks impressed by the mangle, andrather damp, than the dapper, ubiquitous waiter, napkin in hand, standsbefore you, and rapidly runs over a detailed account of the temptingviands all smoking hot, and ready to be served up. "Beef, boiled and roast; veal and ham; line of pork, roast; leg boiled, with pease pudding; cutlets, chops and steaks, greens, taters, andpease, " etc. Etc. Some are fastidious, and hesitate; the waiter, whose eyes are 'all abouthim, ' leaves you to meditate and decide, while he hastens to inform a newarrival, and mechanically repeats his catalogue of dainties; and, bawlingout at the top of his voice, "One roast beaf and one taters, " you echohis words, and he straightway reports your wishes in the same voice andmanner to the invisible purveyors below, and ten to one but you get apiece of boiled fat to eke out your roast meat. In some houses, new and stale bread, at discretion, are provided; andmany a stripling, lean and hungry as a greyhound, with a large appetiteand a small purse, calls for a small plate, without vegetables, and fillsup the craving crannies with an immoderate proportion of the staff oflife, while the reckoning simply stands, "one small plate 6d. , one bread1d. , one waiter 1d. ;" and at this economical price satisfies the demandsof his young appetite. But still, cheap as this appears, he pays it the aggregate, for there arefrequently 500 or 600 diners daily at these Establishments; and thewaiter, who generally purchases his place, and provides glass, cloths, etc. Not only makes a 'good thing of it, ' but frequently accumulatessufficient to set up on his own account, in which case, he is almost sureof being followed by the regular customers. For he is universally so obliging, and possesses such a memory, and anaptness in discovering the various tastes of his visitors, that he seldomfails in making most of the every-day feeders his fast friends. "Tom, bring me a small plate of boiled beef and potatoes, " cries one ofhis regulars. Placing his hand upon the table-cloth; and knocking offthe crumbs with his napkin, he bends to the gentleman, and in a small. Confidential voice informs him, "The beef won't do for you, Sir, --it's too low, it's bin in cut a hour. Fine ribs o' lamb, jist up. " "That will do, Tom, " says the gratified customer. "Grass or spinach, Sir? fine 'grass, '--first this season. " "Bring it, and quick, Tom, " replies the gentleman, pleased with theassiduous care he takes in not permitting him to have an indifferent cutof a half cold joint. The most extraordinary part of the business is, the ready manner in whichhe 'casts up' all you have eaten, takes the reckoning, and then is offagain in a twinkling. A stranger, and one unaccustomed to feed in public, is recognised in amoment by his uneasy movements. He generally slinks into the nearestvacant seat, and is evidently taken aback by the apparently abrupt andrapid annunciation of the voluble and active waiter, and, in the hurryand confusion, very frequently decides upon the dish least pleasant tohis palate. A respectable gentleman of the old school, of a mild and reverendappearance, and a lean and hungry figure, once dropped into a settlewhere we were discussing a rump steak and a shallot, tender as an infant, and fragrant as a flower garden! Tom pounced upon him in a moment, anduttered the mystic roll. The worthy senior was evidently confused andstartled, but necessity so far overcame his diffidence that he softlysaid, "A small portion of veal and ham, well done. " Tom, whirled round, continuing the application of his eternal napkin to atumbler which he was polishing, bawled out in a stentorian voice, "Plate o' weal, an' dam well done!" We shall never sponge from the slate of our memory the utter astonishmentexpressed in the bland countenance of the startled old gentleman at thispeculiar echo of his wishes. SCENE X. (b) "This is a werry lonely spot, Sir; I wonder you ar'n't afeard of beingrobbed. " Job Timmins was a tailor bold, And well he knew his trade, And though he was no fighting manHad often dress'd a blade! Quoth he, one day--"I have not hadA holiday for years, So I'm resolv'd to go and fish, And cut for once the shears. " So donning quick his Sunday's suit, He took both rod and line, And bait for fish--and prog for one, And eke a flask of wine. For he was one who loved to live, And said--"Where'er I roamI like to feed--and though abroad, To make myself at home. " Beneath a shady grove of treesHe sat him down to fish, And having got a cover, heLong'd much to get a dish. He cast his line, and watch'd his float, Slow gliding down the tide;He saw it sink! he drew it up, And lo! a fish he spied. He took the struggling gudgeon off, And cried--"I likes his looks, I wish he'd live--but fishes dieSoon as they're--off the hooks!" At last a dozen more he drew--(Fine-drawing 'twas to him!)But day past by--and twilight came, All objects soon grew dim. "One more!" he cried, "and then I'll pack, And homeward trot to sup, "--But as he spoke, he heard a tread, Which caused him to look up. Poor Timmins trembled as he gazedUpon the stranger's face;For cut purse! robber! all too plain, His eye could therein trace. "Them's werry handsome boots o' yourn, "The ruffian smiling cried, "Jist draw your trotters out--my pal--And we'll swop tiles, besides. " "That coat too, is a pretty fit--Don't tremble so--for IVon't rob you of a single fish, I've other fish to fry. " Poor Timmins was obliged to yieldHat, coat, and boots--in shortHe was completely stripp'd--and paidMost dearly for his "sport. " And as he homeward went, he sigh'd--"Farewell to stream and brook;O! yes, they'll catch me there againA fishing--with a hook!" GONE! Along the banks, at early dawn, Trudged Nobbs and Nobbs's son, With rod and line, resolved that dayGreat fishes should be won. At last they came unto a bridge, Cried Nobbs, "Oh! this is fine!"And feeling sure 'twould answer well, He dropp'd the stream a line. "We cannot find a fitter place, If twenty miles we march;Its very look has fix'd my choice, So knowing and--so arch!" He baited and he cast his line, When soon, to his delight, He saw his float bob up and down, And lo! he had a bite! "A gudgeon, Tom, I think it is!"Cried Nobbs, "Here, take the prize;It weighs a pound--in its own scales, I'm quite sure by its size. " He cast again his baited hook, And drew another up!And cried, "We are in luck to-day, How glorious we shall sup!" All in the basket Tommy stow'dThe piscatory spoil;Says Nobbs, "We've netted two at least, Albeit we've no toil. " Amazed at his own luck, he threwThe tempting bait again, And presently a nibble had--A bite! he pull'd amain! His rod beneath the fish's weightNow bent just like a bow, "What's this?" cried Nobbs; his son replied, "A salmon, 'tis, I know. " And sure enough a monstrous perch, Of six or seven pounds, He from the water drew, whose bulkBoth dad and son confounds. "O! Gemini!" he said, when he"O! Pisces!" should have cried;And tremblingly the wriggling fishHaul'd to the bridge's side. When, lo! just as he stretched his handTo grasp the perch's fin, The slender line was snapp'd in twain, The perch went tumbling in! "Gone! gone! by gosh!" scream'd Nobbs, while TomToo eager forward bent, And, with a kick, their basket quickInto the river sent. THE PRACTICAL JOKER. --No. I. Those wags who are so fond of playing off their jokes upon others, require great skill and foresight to prevent the laugh being turnedagainst themselves. Jim Smith was an inveterate joker, and his jokes were, for the most part, of the practical kind. He had a valuable tortoiseshell cat, whose beautywas not only the theme of praise with all the old maids in theneighbourhood, but her charms attracted the notice of numerous felinegentlemen dwelling in the vicinity, who were, nocturnally, wont to paytheir devoirs by that species of serenades, known under the cacophonousname of caterwauling. One very ugly Tom, (who, it was whispered abroad, was agreat--grandfather, and scandalously notorious for gallantries unbecominga cat of his age) was particularly obnoxious to our hero; and, in anunlucky moment, he resolved to 'pickle him, ' as he facetiously termed it. Now his process of pickling consisted in mixing a portion of prussic acidin milk. Taking the precaution to call in his own pet and favorite, heplaced the potion in the accustomed path of her long-whiskered suitor. Tom finding the coast clear slipped his furry body over the wall, anddropped gently as a lady's glove into the garden, and slily smelling theflower-borders, as if he were merely amusing himself in the elegant studyof botany, stealthily approached the house, and uttering a low plaintive'miau, ' to attract the attention of his dear Minx, patiently awaited theappearance of his true-love. Minx heard the voice she loved so well, and hurried to meet her ancientbeau. A slight noise, however, alarmed his timidity, and he scaled thewall in a twinkling. Presently the screams of the maid assured him that 'something had takenplace;' and when he heard the words, "Oh! the cat! the cat!" he feltquite certain that the potion had taken effect. He walked deliberatelydown stairs, and behold! there lay Miss Minx, his own favorite, struggling in the agonies of death, on the parlor rug. The fact is, hehad shut the doors, but forgotten that the window was open, and theconsequence was, the loss of poor Minx, who had drunk deep of themalignant poison designed for her gallant. This was only one of a thousand tricks that had miscarried. Having one day ascertained that his acquaintance, Tom Wilkins, was goneout 'a-shooting, ' he determined to way-lay him on his return. It was a beautiful moonlight night in the latter end of October. Disguising himself in a demoniac mask, a pair of huge wings, and a forkedtail, he seated himself on a stile in the sportsman's path. Anon he espied the weary and unconscious Tom approaching, lost in theprofundity of thought, and though not in love, ruminating on every misshe had made in that day's bootless trudge. He almost, touched the stile before his affrighted gaze encountered this'goblin damned. ' His short crop bristled up, assuming the stiffness of a penetrating hairbrush. For an instant his whole frame appeared petrified, and the tide andcurrent of his life frozen up in thick-ribbed ice. Jim Smith, meanwhile, holding out a white packet at arm's length, exclaimed in a sepulchral tone, "D'ye want a pound of magic shot?" THE PRACTICAL JOKER. --No. II. Awfully ponderous as the words struck upon the tightened drum of Tom'sauriculars, they still tended to arouse his fainting spirit. "Mer-mer-mercy on us!" ejaculated he, and shrank back a pace or two, still keeping his dilating optics fixed upon the horrible spectre. "D'ye want a pound of magic shot?" repeated Jim Smith. "Mur-mur-der!" screamed Tom; and, mechanically raising his gun for actionof some kind appeared absolutely necessary to keep life within him, heaimed at the Tempter, trembling in every joint. Jim, who had as usual never calculated upon such a turning of the tables, threw off his head--his assumed one, of course, and, leaping from thestile, cried aloud-- "Oh! Tom, don't shoot--don't shoot!--it's only me--Jim Smith!" Down dropped the gun from the sportsman's grasp. "Oh! you fool! you--you--considerable fool!" cried he, supportinghimself on a neighbouring hawthorn, which very kindly and consideratelylent him an arm on the occasion. "It's a great mercy--a very greatmercy, Jim--as we wasn't both killed!--another minute, only anotherminute, and--but it won't bear thinking on. " "Forgive me, Tom, " said the penitent joker; "I never was so near a corpseafore. If I didn't think the shots were clean through me, and that'sflat. " "Sich jokes, " said Tom, "is onpardonable, and you must be mad. " "I confess I'm out of my head, Tom, " said Jim, who was dangling the hugemask in his hand, and fast recovering from the effects of his fright. "Depend on it, I won't put myself in such a perdicament again, Tom. No, no--no more playing the devil; for, egad! you had liked to have playedthe devil with me. " "A joke's a joke, " sagely remarked Tom, picking up his hat and fowlingpiece. "True!" replied Smith; "but, I think, after all, I had the greatest causefor being in a fright. You had the best chance, at any rate; for I couldnot have harmed you, whereas you might have made a riddle of me. " "Stay, there!" answered Tom; "I can tell you, you had as little cause forfear as I had, you come to that; for the truth is, the deuce a bit ofpowder or shot either was there in the piece!" "You don't say so!" said Jim, evidently disappointed and chop-fallen atthis discovery of his groundless fears. "Well, I only wish I'd known it, that's all!"--then, cogitating inwardly for a minute, he continued--"but, I say, Tom, you won't mention this little fright of yours?" "No; but I'll mention the great fright--of Jim Smith--rely upon it, " saidTom, firmly; and he kept his word so faithfully, that the next day thewhole story was circulated, with many ingenious additions, to the greatannoyance of the practical joker.