the nose-oh! he's writing. (The door is suddenly opened by Oldbutton, who discovers Paul.) Paul. I hope I don't intrude-I was trying to find my apartment. Mr. Old. Was it necessary to look through the key-hole for it, sir? Paul. I'm rather short-sighted, sir; sad affliction! my poor mother was short-sighted, sir; in fact, it's a family failing; all the Prys are obliged to look close. Mr. Old. Whilst I sympathize with your distresses, sir, I hope to be exempt from the impertinence which you may attach to them. Paul. Would not intrude for the world, sir. What may be your opinion, sir, of the present state of the kingdom? How do you like peace? It must press hard upon you gentlemen of the army; a lieutenant's half pay now is but little, to make both ends meet. Mr. Old. Sir! Paul. Especially when a man's benevolent to his poor relations. Now, sir, perhaps you'll allow something out of your five-and-six-pence a day, to your mother or maiden sister. Between you me, I must tell you what I have learnt here. Mr. Old. Between you and me, sir, I must tell you what I have learnt in India. Paul. What, have you been in India? Wouldn't intrude an observation for the world; but I thought you had a yellowish look; something of an orange-peeling countenance. You've been in India? Although I'm a single man, I wouldn't ask an improper question; but is it true that the blacks employ no tailors nor milliners? If not, what do they do to keep off the flies? Mr. Old. That is what I was about to inform you; they Now, sir, five minutes' conversation with you carry canes. has fully convinced me that there are flies in England as well as in India; and that a man may be as impertinently inquisitive at Dover, as at Bengal. All I have to add is--I carry a cane. Paul. In such a case, I'm the last to intrude. I've only one question to ask-Is your name Thomas? whether you have a wife? how old she is? and where were you married? Mr. Old. Well, sir, a man may sometimes play with a puppy, as well as kick him; and, if it will afford you any satisfaction, learn my name is Thomas. Paul. Oh! poor Mr. Cinnamon! . This is going to India! Mr. T., I'm afraid you'll find that somebody here has intruded in your place-for between you me-(Oldbutton surveys him contemptuously, and whilst Paul is talking, Oldbutton stalks off. Paul, on looking round,) Well, it isn't that I interfere much in people's concerns; if I did, how unhappy I could make that man. This Freemason's sign puzzles me; they wouldn't make me a member; but I have slept six nights in the next room to them; and, thanks to my gimblet, I know the business. There was Mr. Smith, who was only in the Gazette last week, taking his brandy and water; he can't afford that, I know. Then there was Mr. Hodgkins, who makes his poor wife and children live upon baked potatoes six days out of the week, (for I know the shop where they are cooked,) calling, like a lord, for a Welsh rarebit; I only wish his creditors could see him; but I don't trouble my head with these matters; if I did-eh! Why there is one of the young Jones, going again to Mr. Notick, the pawnbroker's; that's the third time this week; well, I've just time enough to run to Notick's, and see what he 's brought, before I go to enquire at the post office, who in the town has letters. (Exit.) PARODY.*INGOLDSBY LEGENDS. Nor a sous had he got,—not a guinea or note, * On Wolfe's celebrated lines on the death of Sir John Moore, com- "Not a drum was beard, nor a funeral note," &c. As he bolted away without paying his shot, We saw him again at dead of night, All bare, and exposed to the midnight dews, "The doctor's as drunk as he can be," we said, And we managed a shutter to borrow; We raised him, and sigh'd at the thought that his head We bore him home, and we put him to bed, Loudly they talk'd of his money that's gone, We tuck'd him in, and had hardly done We heard the rough voice of a son of a gun Slowly and sadly we all walked down From his room in the uppermost story; ead THE APPLE DUMPLINGS AND GEORGE THE THIRD. ONCE in the chase, this monarch drooping, Where an old crone was hanging on the pot; -WOLCOTT. Like lightning asked, "What's here? what's here? what? what? what? what?" Then taking up a dumpling in his hand, His eyes with admiration did expand And oft did majesty the dumpling grapple ; 'Tis monstrous, monstrous, monstrous hard," he cried; "No!" cried the staring monarch with a grin, AMERICAN ARISTOCRACY.-J. G. SAXE. Of all the notable things on earth, A bridge across a hundred years, English and Irish, French and Spanish, So subtle a tinge of blood, indeed, Depend upon it, my snobbish friend, Or, worse than that, your boasted line JACK AT ÁLL TRADES.-ANON. CALEB QUOTEM, MRS. QUOTEM AND DICK. Quotem. Wife! where are you? Mrs. Quotem, I say! look to the shop! Silence in the school, there. Be good boysmind your writing and cyphering, I'm coming in directly. Here, Dick! Dick Drudge, where are you? Dick. Here, sir. Quot. Come here, then, as the poet says. been doing these four hours?. What have you Dick. As you ordered me, sir. After helping you to chime the bells for prayers, I drove out the dogs and boys playing in the church-yard.—While you were singing psalms, I carried |