are lived upon; where we must often open our doors to people whom we long to fling out of the windows; where we are forced to drench with our Rhenish, men for whom we would willingly fill a bumper of Prussic, and escort to our best bed-rooms, hordes of vagrants, "male and female, after their kind," devoutly wishing, for their sakes, that our beds were entomological gardens, and that our rooms were haunted by as many imps and goblins as tormented St. Anthony, or chased Tam O'Shanter.

CHAP. II.

The piratical Family of the Hawkes-Breeding, Education, and Character of Mrs. Hawke, the Gipsy.

THE Hawke family, whose expeditions and adventures are now to be recorded, were the most daring pirates of their age. Mrs. Hawke was commonly called "the Gipsy," from the habits of life to which she was addicted, and the soubriquet of the "Red Rover" was given to her husband for the same reason, in addition to the circumstance of his having a shocking red head of hair, which had defied all the atrapilatories of Rowland and Delcroix. The maiden name of Mrs. Hawke had been Pye, and as her Christian name was Margaret, she went familiarly, when a girl, by the appellation of the Mag-Pye, no doubt with a sly reference also to certain little predatory tricks, and playful larcenies, for which she was distinguished before she put away childish things. Her girlhood, too, had been a series of migrations; she lost her parents early in life, and, being but indifferently provided for, she was tossed for several years about the world, from the house of one relative to another, a rambling mode of existence, which contributed to eradicate any tendency to inhabitiveness (to borrow the phrenological phrase) that nature might have implanted in her.

To form a notion of what she now was, imagine a woman more than forty-five, but decidedly not fifty, in the September of her days, brisk, buxom, bouncing, blooming, agreeably corpulent, sufficiently handsome, not above the middle height, but looking taller than she actually was, in consequence of her stately and commanding carriage, a point to which she possibly paid the more attention, as it was the only description of carriage she could call her own. Indeed, to see Mrs. Hawke treading the stage of life, one would have concluded that she was the queen of at least as redoubted a kingdom as the Isle of Tahiti, whereas, in truth, she had never been for a month the sovereign of a six-roomed house. Her complexion was Egyptian, almost Creole; her hair was black, her nose slightly aquiline; her lips small and compressed; her eyes bright, dark, piercing, busy, practical. In short, Mrs. Hawke was a woman of business every inch; one of those bustling, strenuous, managing, wilful people who sweep other folk (particularly husbands, children, and servants) along with them, by the impetuosity and vivacity of their movements. She was well connected, and had seen a good deal of the world here and there, picking up, as she trudged along, a few odds and ends of the ordinary female accomplishments, such as music and drawing, to which she contrived to add just enough of geography, history, and French, to make herself ridiculous, whenever she displayed any of these acquirements.

Her manners ought not to have been coarse, recollecting the sphere in

which she was born, but the galloping life she led, and the miscellaneous society she found it her interest to cultivate, were unfavourable to the feminine graces and adornments, and gave her something of the rollicking air which one may conceive to be acquired by an admiral's wife, who should pass ten years of her life on board the Gorgon or the Tremendous, in the company of lieutenants and midshipmen, with the cabin for her drawing-room, and a couple of twelve-pounders in her boudoir. At the same time, Mrs. Hawke, as we have said, was a comely specimen of womankind, which did her no harm in houses where male influence was ascendant. Where petticoat government prevailed, she relied more on her intellectual resources than on her personal charms.

CHAP. III.

Some Account of the Red Rover.

HAWKE resembled his wife perfectly in the turn he had for an irregular nomadic life. His red hair has been already mentioned. To complete his portraiture, he was tall, thin, and bleak, and so very hooked-nosed, that he seemed to have borrowed the beak of the bird whose name he bore. Still his physiognomy was mild, intelligent, and gentlemanly. You might have taken him for a parson with a small living, or for a respectable writing-master, or for a third-rate bookseller of Holborn, or the neighbourhood of Covent Garden. He dressed in black, buttoned his coat up sharply to his chin, wore a baddish hat, never strapped down his trousers, and looked hungry at all hours of the day. Indolent he was not, but it was clear, from his general appearance, that he was not as prosperous as an industrious man ought to be. In fact, Hawke was rather active and nimble than industrious, for industry implies solidity and perseverance, qualities of which he did not possess a grain. He was the most volatile and irresolute of beings; cleverish rather than clever; fit for any thing and fit for nothing; generally on the look out for some small appointment, often succeeding, but seldom retaining the same employment for six months consecutively. He had been in fifty different situations in half that number of years. His employers had generally a high opinion of his abilities for the first month or thereabouts, but they usually got tired of him before the end of the second, and if not, he was sure to be weary of them before the expiration of a third, and thus the engagement seldom lasted for half-a-year. He had been a clerk at Somerset House, had managed a lunatic asylum, superintended a copper-mine, controlled the accounts of a Cowpock Institution, been secretary to a Horticultural Association, actuary to a Jointstock-cheap-bakery Establishment, and a supervisor of port duties; he had just resigned the place of inspector of works on a railway in the west of England, which he had only filled for three weeks, and he was now in eager pursuit of the secretaryship to that magnificent and stupendous undertaking, "The Universal Providence Fire and Life Assurance Association," which permitted the assured to burn their own houses, and engaged that not even suicide, or death by the hands of public justice, should vacate the policies effected at their office.

In point of education, Hawke was rather above par, although his acquirements were too numerous to be very deep. His first destination was the church, which gave him a smattering of theology and Hebrew;

he abandoned those pursuits for the bar, which he also relinquished in a short time, carrying away with him the names of a few books, and the titles of one or two acts of parliament. His next plan was to become a doctor, and he studied physic for three weeks so assiduously, that when he changed his mind, and resolved to open a school, he announced in his prospectus that the boys would have medical advice gratis; the school, however, was never opened; he heard of a vacancy in the office of deputy-librarianship at the British Museum, sold his desks and forms at half-price, and went in quest of that enviable appointment; failed only for want of timely application; started the next day in chase of another prize; gained or missed his object, no matter which, for we have no notion of publishing a regular log-book of the Red Rover.

Hawke, however, was a gentleman vagabond. Except in the single point of living somewhat unscrupulously at the cost and charges of his acquaintances (with now and then an occasional appropriation of a greatcoat or an umbrella that did not belong to him), he was a respectable man, although not a prosperous one, and owing to his simple manners and good-nature, had made a considerable number of friends in his time, particularly amongst people whose easy and affluent circumstances allowed them to smile at his intrusions, and submit, out of regard for him, even to the ruthless encroachments of his wife.

Moreover, Hawke had, in addition to the scraps of divinity, law, and physic, which have been just alluded to, a smattering of twenty other things, which caused him often to pass for a very learned man amongst simple people who knew nothing at all about them. In mathematics he had peeped into the angles of a parallelogram, and in algebra had nibbled at square roots, and perhaps tasted a cube. He was geologist enough to talk of primary rocks, and to be up to trap. His botany went so far as to call a leaf a petal, and a fern a filix. Then he could suffocate a linnet in an exhausted receiver, develope sparks of electricity from the back of a kitten, seduce needles out of work-boxes with potent magnets, to the amazement of grandmothers and joy of infants. He was the little boys' ship-builder, and master of the ordnance. He made cannon of quills, mortars of trotter-bones, and vast armies out of old packs of cards. In short, there was no man more popular with "Young England," and many a time and oft he made his way to the diningparlour through the nursery.

The lady, however, was by far the more daring and successful pirate of the two her schemes were vaster, her designs deeper, her manœuvres infinitely more ingenious. In fact, Mr. Hawke rather followed than led in the numerous enterprises which made his family the terror of all who knew them. He had some small touch of conscience: perhaps his initiation into the law had shown him the difference between meum and tuum; or possibly when he was studying for the church, he had met with the ordinance against thieving amongst the ten commandments. His wife was thoroughly unscrupulous; from a bonnet or shawl up to a carriage or a house, she not only coveted her neighbour's goods, but made as free with them, when it suited her convenience, as the proprietors could have done themselves. She had no notion of renting a house, while so many people of her acquaintance had houses, either in town or in the country, which for some part of the year they deserted, and left to the care of servants. In summer there was always a house in Lon

don to be had for asking; and in winter and spring there was the same facility for procuring an equally cheap and comfortable residence in the country. Cheap, however, as a house is which costs nothing but the civility of borrowing it, the gipsy did not always pay even that moderate fine.

CHAP. IV.

The Hawkes at Sir Frederick Freeman's-Meditated Descent on the Gosling -The Gipsy's Letter-Sensation in Harley-street-The Gipsy's Confinements-Catalogue of the little Hawkes.

THE Hawkes were now in Herts, at St. Ronald's, the pretty villa of Sir Frederick Freeman, who was one of those easy men who can never bring themselves to refuse a request, however unreasonable; a facility of disposition which exposes people who are cursed with it to social piracy in all its forms. Sir Frederick was as good as an argosy to Mrs. Hawke; she had boarded and made him a prize a dozen times over. The worthy baronet had a kindly feeling towards her husband, who, when secretary to the Horticultural Society, had (with a little sacrifice of principle) secured a favourable place at an exhibition for the carnations and gooseberries produced at St. Ronald's. There never was a service more exorbitantly estimated or more lavishly repaid. The Hawkes lived on Sir Frederick's gratitude for months; their exactions were enormous in fruit, flowers, and vegetables; when no more could be wrung out of the gardening department, the dairy was laid under contribution for cream-cheeses, and it was only the distance from town, where the Hawkes were then stationed, that exempted Sir Frederick's milk and butter from the general scheme of spoliation.

However, one day the Morning Post announced that Sir Frederick had left his place in Herts for Brighton or Cheltenham. How delightful it would be to pass a week or two at St. Ronald's! How good it would be for the boys' health;-how absolutely necessary for the girls!

"What do you think, my dear? I am certain Sir Frederick Freeman

would not-could not refuse you.”

"I am not so sure of that, love."

"Well, I am; he couldn't be so ungrateful; he must know very well that only for you,-only for me, I should say he would never have got the prize at the flower-show. I made you keep all the best carnations in the back-ground, under the balsams and rododendrons; it was that did it."

"It certainly helped, I fear."

"Fear!—there it is-I suppose you are sorry Sir Frederick won: you had better return the vegetables and the cream-cheeses that came this morning."

"This morning! more vegetables and cream-cheeses!"

"And a basket of beautiful strawberries and cherries; such a godsend to the children."

“I think, my dear, we have got the worth of the prize long ago." "What a fuss about a few peas and strawberries. Sir Frederick never eats vegetables, and Lady Freeman is forbidden to touch fruit. Would you have them left to rot on the ground? I do so detest waste. Indeed the fruit is never quite fresh when we get it, and that is one reason for going to St. Ronald's ourselves while the Freemans are at Brighton; so

sit down, my dear, this moment and write to Sir Frederick ;-I'll tell you what to say,-leave it to me."

Accordingly Mrs. Hawke dictated the letter, which was couched in terms of the coolest audacity, and rather announced her determination to take possession of the vacant mansion, than solicited the temporary enjoyment of it as a favour. Sir Frederick, easy as he was, might possibly have started an objection, had the usual tone been employed in which modest people make requests of the kind; but finding that his acquiescence was regarded as certain, and believing that poor Hawke and his family had fixed their hearts upon spending a little time in his countryhouse, it was not in his nature to return any answer but a kind one, to the effect that St. Ronald's was heartily at their service during the short absence of himself and Lady Freeman.

Nothing worthy of record occurred during the sojourn of the pirates in Hertfordshire. It need scarcely be stated that they made themselves perfectly at home; Mrs. Hawke scolded the maids, rated the gardener, and ordered Mr. Hawke to abuse the butler for not producing the key of the cellar. The children havocked the orchard, and climbed over the garden-wall when admission in the regular way was properly denied them. In the farm-yard there was an unprecedented massacre of ducks and chickens, and the dairy-maids were accused of fattening themselves upon the contents of the milk-pans. All this was, however, matter of course. One day was a fac-simile of another, until the disastrous news arrived that the Freemans were expected home. The Hawkes were consequently obliged to look out for new settlements. What steps they adopted for that purpose will appear from the following letter addressed by Mrs. Hawke to Mrs. Goslin:

"My dear Mrs. Goslin,

"August 3, St. Ronald's, Herts.

"We are all so charmed to hear you are going to the Giblets next week. The country will do you so much good; I do hope and trust you will benefit by it as much as I always do after my nervous attacks. How miserable to be obliged to go to town just when every body is leaving it, and when town is so downright odious. Alas, such is our lot: the Freemans will never forgive us for running away so soon, but Mr. Hawke has business which requires his immediate presence, so we must submit to our fate. By an odd coincidence we heard a beautiful sermon last Sunday on resignation. The Jenkinsons are looking out for a small neat house for us somewhere near St. John's wood, or that neighbourhood; but if you should hear of any thing that would suit us elsewhere, pray do let us know before you leave town. I am ashamed to put you to so much trouble, but you are always so good to us, dear Mrs. Goslin, and will I know excuse yours, very affectionately,

"MARGARET HAWKE.

"P.S. Should neither the Jenkinsons nor you succeed in getting us a house, would it be too unreasonable to beg of you, if perfectly convenient, to allow Mr. Hawke and me (nobody else) to stay a night or two in Harley-street, until we suit ourselves. Any hole or corner of the house would answer us perfectly. If it put you to the slightest trouble it would make us all perfectly wretched.

66

'To Mrs. Goslin, Harley-street, London."

The good woman to whom this epistle was directed was not so ex