days. O Becky its awful wurk when it cums to sich a full unbuzzuming and you stand before your own eyes stript nakid to the verry botom of your sole. Wat seemed the innocentest things turn as black as coles. Even Luvvers look armless but they ant wen all their kisses cum to fly in your face. Makin free with triffles is the same. Littel did I think wen I give away an odd lofe it would lay so heavy. Then to be shure a little of Missus's tea and sugger seams no grate matter partickly if youve agreed to find yure own, but as I no by experence evry ownce will turn to a pound of led in repentin. That wickid caddy Key give me menny a turn, and I made a pint as soon as the storm abatid to chuck it into the botomless otion. I do trust Becky you will foller my xample and giv up watever goes agin yure conshins. If I name the linnin I trust youl excuse. Charrity kivers a multitud of sins, and to be shure its a charrity to give a-way a raggid shurt of Masters providid its not torn a purpus which I fear is sumtimes the case. Pray say the like from me to Mister Butler up at the Hall, he will take a Miss I no, partickly as I hav drunk unbeknown wine along with him, but when yure at yur last pint what is Port in a storm! Won minit yure a living cretur, and the next you may be like wickid Jonas in the belly of Wales.

The only comfort I had besides Cristianity was to give Missus warnin witch I did over and over between her attax. No wagis on earth could reckonsile me to a sea goin place. Dress is dress and its hard on a servent to find too nasty grate broke loose Trunks between them has battered my pore ban box into a pan cake. To make bad wus as the otion they say level all distinkshuns, and make won Womman as good as a nother I thought propper to go to sea in my best, and in course my waterd ribbins is no better for being washt with serges, or my bewtiful shot silk for gitting different shades of smoak blacks, — besides spiling my nice kid gluves with laying hold on tarry ropes, not to name bein drensht from top to toe with rottin salt water, and the personable risk of being drownded arter all. But I mite as well have tould the ship to soot itself as my Missus. I verrily beleave from her wild starin at me she did not no wether I talked English or Frentch. At last Martha says she we are going to a wurld where there is no sitivations. What an idear! But our su

periers are always shy of our society, as if even hevin abuv was too good for servents. Talking of superiers there was a Tittled Lady in Bed in the Cabbin that sent every five minits for the capting, till at long and at last he got Crusty. Capting says she I insist on yure gitting the ship more out of the wind. I wish I could says he. Don't you no who I ham, says she very dignifide. Yes my Ladyship says the capting, but its blowin grate guns and if so be you was a princess I couldn't make it blow littel pistles. Wat next but she must send for the Mate to ask him if he can swim. Yes my lady says he like a Duck. In that case says she I must condysend to lay hold on yure harm all nite. Axing pardin my ladyship says he its too grate honners for the like of me. No matter says she very proudlike, I insist on it. Then I'm verry sorry says the Mate makin a run off, but I'm terrible wanted up abuv to help in layin the ship on her beam ends. Thats what I call good authority, so you may supose wat danger we was in.

Howsumever here we are thenk providens on dry land if so be it can be cauld dry that is half ditchis and cannals, at a forin city, by name Rotter D-m. The King lives at the Ha-gue and I'll be bound its haguish enuf for Holland is a cold mashy flatulint country and lies so low they're only saved by being dammed. The wimmin go very tidy but the men wear very large close for smallclose and old fashinable hats. But I should n't prefer to settle in IIolland for Dutch plaices must be very hard. Oh Becky such moppin and sloppin such chuckin up water at the winders and squirtin at the walls with littel fire ingins, but I supose with their moist climit the houses would n't be holesum if they warn't continually washing off the damp. Then the furnitur is kept like span new without speck or spot, it must be sumboddy's wurk to kill all the flies. To my mind the pepel are over clean as John Futman said when his master objectid to his thum mark on the hedge of the plate, a littel dirt does set off clenliness thats certin. Then as to nus mades they ought to have eyes all round their heds like spiders to watch the childrin by the cannals, thenk God I ant a Dutch parent I should be misrable for fear of my yung wons gittin to the keys. Lawk, an English muther in Holland wood be like a Hen with Ducklins!

We have seen many fine sites, and bildings, and partickly

the Butcher's Hall, witch is all of red Brix, pick't out with wite, jest as if it was bilt of beefstake. Likewise the statute of Erasmis who inventid pickle herrins, they do say in any orange bovine revolushuns it jumps into the cannal, and then cums out agin when the trubbles is over, but in course that's only a popish mirakle. Then there's the House of Fears, fears enuf I warrant for every other hole and corner in the town was ravaged and ransackt by the French, and the pore soles every minit expecten naber's fare. But that cant hapin agin, as in case of beseiging they open all their slowces, and the Dutch being amphibbyus, all the enemy is drowndid xcept themselves. As respects vittles, we do verry well, only I am shi of the maid dishes, being sic a mashy forren country for fear of eating Frogs. Talkin of cookin, wat do you think Becky of sittin with a lited charcole stow under yure pettecots ? Its the only way they have for airin their linnin, tho' it looks more like a new cookery receat for How to smoak yure Hams. But I hear Missus bell, so with kind luve to all, includin John Futman, I remane in haste, my dear Becky, Yure luving frend,

MARTHA PENNY.

TO GERARD BROOKE, ESQ.

MY DEAR Gerard,

At last we have turned our backs on the good city of Rotterdam, and made our first advance up the Waal branch of the fashionable river. As you are aware, the banks of the Lower Rhine are of a very uninteresting character: to sing their beauties, one needs only, with Desdemona, to "sing all a green willow, sing willow, willow, willow." In such a case, there is but one alternative. In the absence of good scenery and decorations, the traveller must turn for entertainment to the strolling company on board, and such pièces de circonstance as they may happen to present.

It is one of the discomforts of striving against the stream on the Rhine, that you must start extravagantly early, in order to accomplish the next stage before night. To aggravate this

nuisance, the garçon appointed to rouse us crowed, like the "bonnie gray cock," a full hour too soon; and then, by way of amends, called us as much too late; so that we had to save our passage and passage-money (paid beforehand) by a race to the quay. Short as the course was, it led to a great deal of what the turf-men call tailing. Your humble servant was first on board: my uncle made a bad second; my aunt a worse third; her maid Martha barely saved her distance, and the baggage was nowhere at all. In fact, the steamer was already on the move before our Dutch porters made their appearance; so that the greater part of the luggage was literally pitched on board, with a clangor and clatter that excited a peal of merriment from ship and shore. "In the name of heaven, what is all this?" inquired my uncle, who noticed a considerable addition to our sundries. "Oh! it's the beautiful brass pail," moaned my aunt, writhing in pantomimical distress; "and look how it's all battered and bruised!" whilst her maid indignantly collected a shower of wooden shoes, intended to be presented as foreign curiosities to her fellowservants at Woodlands. My uncle shrugged up his shoulders, and made a wry face at the prospect. "Zounds, Frank!" he said to me in an aside, "if we gather at this rate in our progress, we shall come to a stickfast in the end, like the great snowball in Sandford and Merton. To my mind, your poor aunt is making a toil of a pleasure; however, the more little troubles she gets into, the more likely to forget her great one. Though, to be sure, it sounds odd," he continued, observing me smile, "for a widow to be wiping away her tears with a brass pail."

I had now time to look round, and, on taking a survey of the company, was not sorry to recognize our old acquaintance the red-faced man, looking as ruddy as a Dutch apple, but like an apple that had been bruised. From whatever cause, there was a discoloration round his right eye, which hinted plainly, with Lord Byron, that

"Sometimes we must box without the muffles,"

especially when we are blessed with a temper as hot and hasty as a pepper-caster with a loose top. He eagerly pounced upon me as one with whom he could pour out his bottled-up grievances, and thus they began their audible effervescence:

"Glad to see you, sir; here's a pretty eye or the beauties of the Rhine, black as my hat, sir ; well it was n't knocked out! " I sympathized of course, and inquired how it had happened. "How, sir? it could only happen in one way. I've heard of black devils, and blue devils, and renounce me if I don't think there are yellow ones. "You do not surely mean our old shipmate the American?" "Yes, but I do though. You remember how unpleasant he made himself to everybody on board · would n't be sick or anything. As for me, it was natural instinct or something, but I hated him from the first time I set eyes on him. It gave me a turn to look at him. I felt as if I was turning bilious myself; I did indeed! If I don't cut him, thought I, the moment we get on shore, my name's not Bowker, John Bowker. So I asked him at Rotterdam to recommend a good inn, and he named the Skipper House. That was enough for me, and off I took myself to the Bath Hotel. Well, sir, what next? After supper, and making myself comfortable, up I went to bed, and what do you think I saw?" Here Mr. John Bowker made a solemn pause, and looked me full in the face; his visage grew redder, except the black circle, which seemed to darken; he knocked his hat down over the damaged eye, fiercely rammed his double fists into his pockets, drew in a long breath, and then resumed in a voice quite guttural from the broil within: "Renounce me, sir, if I did n't see his infernal jaundice face on the clean pillow!" Very unpleasant indeed." "Yes, sir; there it was, all yellow in the middle of the white —just like a poached egg. By the by, I don't think I shall ever eat one again; he has quite poisoned the idea, sir, he has, upon my life!" There was an expression of loathing about the red face as he said this that would have delighted Dr. Johnson, who has recorded his opinion of a "good hater.” However, I affected concern, and inquired how the untoward event had originated. Originated! phoo, phoo, no such thing. It was done on purpose, sir, sheer malice prepense. I told him quite civilly, I was afraid of a little mistake. 'I'm afraid there is,' said he; 'what's your number?’ 'My name,' said I, 'is Bowker, John Bowker, and I'm number seventeen.' 'Ah,' said he,' that's just where it is, — my name is Take-care-of-yourself, and I reckon I'm number one.'

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