Enamoured Swell (with effusion):-"OH! I COULD SIT HERE FOR EVER!" Indignant Proprietor of Chairs:-"OH, YER COULD, COULD YER? YER NOT A GOING TO DO IT, THOUGH, FOR A PENNY!" IMPORTANT FROM FRANCE. DEVELOPMENT OF LIBERTY! THE "CROWNING OF THE EDIFICE" AT LAST! "THE Paris correspondent of the Globe says: The latest boon conferred upon Parisians by the Government of the Emperor is the liberty to sell tripe! Previously it could only be carried on under very stringent regulations." " This is, doubtless, the grand "Crowning of the Edifice," so long promised by the Imperial Government. We knew it would come-we always said so; but even now, we can hardly realize the immensity of the concession! Vivent l'Empereur ! la Liberté !! et les Tripes!!! LADY ARABELLINA. A THRILLER IN THIRTY-SEVEN CHAPTERS. THE clock struck one. One very naturally resented it. The hours formed a ring, each of the combatants being supplied with sixty seconds in a minute, and a very pleasant set-to commenced. Time was called, but having been rather late overnight didn't get up. The clock being good with both hands, one came off second-best. At the end of fifteen minutes, however, quarter was given. The LADY ARABELLINA DE COURSEY was issuing from the castlegate, with her greyhounds, when the hour struck. Luckily LORD LICHFIELD was on the spot, and arranged a meeting with its master, and the difficulty was eventually got over. Her ladyship cantered off over the purple moorland like a page from HEATH's Book of Beauty, though of course a lady cannot be a page, except on the stage. It had been a portentous morning. The clock had given warning at five minutes to the hour, and several guns had been discharged, but were subsequently let off. The reason of the disturbance was LADY ARABELLINA'S temper. Her father, by keeping her at home, had put her out, for she was anxious to keep an appointment she had made with SIR 'ARRY O'FANE to take the hare with him. Her father was a staunch old nobleman, greatly beloved by all who didn't know him, and much respected (at a distance) by those who did. He was director of the New Crusading Company (Limited), of which RICHARD COEUR DE LEON and PETER THE HERMIT were the promoters, with power to add to their number. In consequence of SIR 'ARRY O'FANE'S declining to take several shares and a deep interest in the venture, LORD DE COURSEY refused him his daughter's hand. But she let out so furiously that the old gentleman, at the time when our story commences, was obliged to let her out. But, alas, for the uncertainties of love and life! As the fair ARABELLINA rode out of the courtyard, she encountered SIR JOHN D'ENTYSTE, to whom her father would fain (not O'FANE) have united her in spite of her teeth. He approached her with a tear on his lip and a smile in his eye, but instantly perceiving the anachronism, removed the tear, dried it carefully with his pocket-handkerchief, and placed it in his waistcoat pocket, where he also deposited the smile, after carefully wrapping it up in a double meaning. Deceived by these artifices, the lovely ARABELLINA allowed herself to be persuaded to taste a liqueur cordially presented to her by the suitor who did not suit her. When she had completely emptied and flung away the flask, she de-cantered down the winding road, in all the guileless innocence of youth and a chimney-pot hat with a green veil. The wily SIR JOHN smiled a terrible smile as he gazed after her. He was observed by an old but faithful servant of the house, who, immediately suspecting mischief, picked up the empty flask his mistress had flung away, and sent it with its contents to a crafty leech. The LADY ARABELLINA, as we have already mentioned, rode away WHEN THE CAT'S AWAY. Master Jerome :-"DURING HIS ABSENCE, I'LL JUST GIVE YOU MY IDEA-” [Enter Schoolmaster. Sensation. [NOTE BY THE AUTHOR.-The learned leech's analysis having just come to hand, I find the phial had contained thirty drops of hyperstrychnate of arsenico-prussic acid. As this dose was sufficient to kill a full-grown elephant in robust health instantly, the reader will be good enough to consider everything cancelled after the passage in which my heroine put the bottle to her lips, an action "very unbecoming in a lady," as I fruitlessly pointed out to her at the time. course I can't be expected to carry on the novel after her decease.] Of A LETTER FROM A WELL-KNOWN LADY. [Ir would be absurd to pretend ignorance of the writer of the following epistle. We have searched the police reports to find the grievance which calls forth MRS. BROWN's indignation, and will briefly epitomize the case. An application was made a week ago to the sitting magistrate at Lambeth by a gentleman, who complained that his mother had been removed from her house in a cab by three females, members of MR. SPURGEON'S congregation, and that he had been refused admittance when applying to see her at the house to which she had been taken. On one of the summoning officers being sent with the applicant, it appeared that the poor lady, who was a lunatic, was in the care of her daughter, who denied that any improper force had been used in the removal. We quote the portion of the report which appears to have given offence to our correspondent: “MRS. MACKENTIRE, on the contrary, said that she (the invalid lady) had been harried and carried along when, from her own expressions, she had no desire or wish to part from her son. MRS. BROWN, who was one of the three females who removed Mas. HINCKLEY, With this brief introduction we leave MRS. BROWN to speak for herself. -ED.] denied the statement of the preceding witness.” TO THE EDITOR OF fun. SIR,-Bein' informed as yours is a orgin as is open to the wrongs of women, as mine would fill volumes, as the saying is, I wants to ask whatever I've done for to deserve it as give me that turn when MRS. CHALLIN showed it me in the paper, as made me legs tremble under me; and no wonder, for if there's a thing as I've set my face agin it's anything like kidnapping, thro' knowing what it is, when our Joe was lost a whole day thro' follering a berrying, and was thought to be 'ticed away artful, and me only just down-stairs thro' CHARLOTTE, as never was the child to thrive arter, and taken off her legs with the least thing, and cutting her teeth cross, as caused that squint as she'll carry to the grave, tho' the mother of three herself. Well, as I was a-sayin', when MRS. CHALLIN borrowed the paper at the "Catherine Wheel," drop I thought I must. "Me kidnap a lunatic ?" says I. "Why, if there is a thing as I wouldn't have at a gift is one of the poor deluded maniacs, as I never shall forget the one as got away from the 'sylum, and run seventeen miles in his night-clothes thro' the turnpike-gates, as was closed agin him, took refuge up a chimbly, and very near frightened a old lady to death as was lighting of the fire, thro' lodgers a-comin' in unexpected. And then to say as I used wiolence, as would walk out of my way for a worm in my path, and don't hold with using of force where arguments did ought to be, tho' I have knowed them as you was forced to set on their legs a-gnashing of their teeth, tho' only historical, as a jug of cold water will often do wonders; and as to pushing of her down the passage, I never set eyes on her or ever heard tell on her, nor them females, as in my opinion did ought to be ashamed of theirselves, for it did put me out dreadful. The idea of mixing me up along with females as frequents MR. SPURGIN'S, a party as I don't hold in with the least, as I never see but once at the Baptist meeting, where I was took unbeknown, and must say as he made that free with ser'ous matters as I shouldn't care to set under, thro' bein' one as is always a-looking up to the pulpit myself, and have heard beautiful discourses in my times, tho' none of your dippins for me, as give me that turn when I see them a-doin' it as was obliged to leave the chapel sudden, and the scrougin' and shovin' was downright disgraceful at the door, and my pockets turned inside out, as isn't goins-on for a Sunday in my opinion. So will trouble you for to set me right, tho' my good gentleman did laugh when I said as I'd have the law on 'em as had took away my character; and however that magistracy could set there and hear such things agin a quiet woman as has had her troubles, goodness knows. Not as I don't say as he was right in sending of her to Bedlam on the quiet, as is in my opinion the best place for them as is so inflicted, tho' I have heard my dear mother say as well she remembered it up in Moorfields, as is now changed into the Catholics, where screams was awful and groans untold, thro' chains and whips, as is now done away. What I wants to know is why a party should make free with my name, as is well known, and can hold up my head with the best; and let them as can say anything agin me speak out and do their best, as is every one's duty; and as to being a female, if I'd a husband with the sperrits of a mouse he'd soon make 'em prove their words; but, lor bless you, there he sets that I says, "I do believe as you wouldn't care if I was pinted at as I goes thro' the street; but," I says, "I knows as there is punishments for parties as says them things;" for well I remember, tho' quite a gal, what appeared in our street, and can see her now, tho' lifted up by my own father, a-standing at the church door, in white, with a candle in her hand, as is the law; for whatever can you do for to protect your own character, a thing as is easy lost if it wasn't as you could punish them as makes too free. But as to my husband's interfering it ain't to be looked to. So I says to MRS. CHALLIN, "If only our Joe would step in, as is a wonderful scholard, p'raps he'd do it for me." "But," says she, "MRS. BROWN, mum, as you've been wronged, why not write, as," she says, "no one ain't more capable;" and certainly I did have plenty of schoolin' out of my father's pocket, with a sampler as I've got framed up-stairs, as shows marking as would puzzle me now; but lor, if he was to know it I never should hear the last on it, as said when I was a-complainin', in the cold-bloodedest way, "Whatever does it matter what they says about you?" I says, "If you can lay down on your bed happy, a-thinking as you've had a wiper a-festering in your bosim all these 'cars, I'm not that party as can bear such amputations, and would rather be took a-smiling to the gallers, with a clear conscience, than a countess in her carriage with a spangled repitition, as may hold themselves that 'igh, little dreamin' as them as they looks down on as minerals is their betters, and wouldn't bring a blush, tho' they may brazen it out, as well I knows thro' my own aunt being cook and housekeeper in a titled family, as the lady said to her, "MRS. WALKER," says she, "that female will never darken my doors," as will try it on and are to to come to be in print as a female, a thing as no one ever dared even be met with in the highest spears; and for me, after all these 'ears, to breathe about me! So, if you can help me, I humbly trust as you will; and as to MR. SPURGIN he's the last of my thoughts, and why ever them young people couldn't keep their troubles to theirselves and had better be kept within their own bosoms; but if you can only puzzles me, for I'm sure them quarrels in families reflects no credit, pint out who it was as said it, which is what I want to get at, I'll precious soon put the saddle on the right horse, and would have gone myself and spoke up, magistracy and all, but them newspapers is no good, for they never tells you nothin' till it's over, for when I did go up to that police they only laughed and said it was clean forgot, and the parties gone they didn't know where, except the poor lady as was out I have knowed them that rational as might be able to indemnify as I of her mind, as it wouldn't be right to trouble about sich a thing, tho' wasn't the party illuded to by the police, as would swear anything as they was ordered, thro' considering their duty, as is not to be envied, but did ought to be taught for to respect any one. As I don't wish my good gentleman to know as I've rote I don't put my name, tho' you will know me as a party as you've heered on by the enclosed card; not as I do no washing now, thro' being retired and livin' comfortable. WISDOM-AND-WATER. BY A GRANDFATHER. FIELDS are green in the early light, When morning treads on the heels of night; A short time since-as it seems to me I was as young as a youth could be; Truly, the day is a varying thing In winter and summer, autumn and spring; From the young and green to the old and grey. YOU BRUISE YOUR OATS?-Because, whether you do or a-smoking away at his pipe and a-smiling till I was that put out Don't, you can get your ch CROQUET. A LETTER FROM THE COUNTRY. D EAR MAY, do you know that we've started The grand Croquet broken-hearted When winter abolish- And sighed when I thought for how long No ball would spin into the river A RAILWAY ROMANCE. CHAPTER I. "AND only in its infancy!" In three minutes the speaker was in the land of dreams. Then a into a wild, sweet melody; and the tall, gaunt semaphores nodded nightingale, perched upon the top wire of the telegraph, burst suddenly their heads and smiled at the song of the nightingale, and the soul of the engine-driver was melted within him, and a tear stood in either eye-no matter which. He was a hard man, that engine-driver; nearly as hard as the stoker, in fact; but sometimes, when there was I put by the hoops with nobody looking at him, he wept like a child-quite like a child! Let us return to the stranger. In asserting that steam was a a shiver, wonderful invention, it had evidently been his desire to enter on a metaphysical discussion; and he was grieved-not angry, but grieved at finding his companion asleep. His noble and sensitive nature was wounded to the quick by the apparent neglect with which his remark had been treated. A sense of unutterable wrong was aroused within him, and his whole being was changed for a time. Only for a time, though; the old tenderness came back again at last, and he shed tears-just as he had shed them in bygone days at BIRCHINGTON'S Academy for Young Gentlemen. There was something inexpressibly touching, too, in the last words uttered by the sleeper: "In its infancy!" He also had been an infant once-had had the measles, and might never, never have them again. Then he wondered whether the sleeping man opposite had ever had the measles. Should he wake the sleeping man opposite and inquire? Some people can Half cried as I looked But now here's the jolly We'd quite a large party Her cousins who FRED LECTERN, the curate from Chester, A regular clerical "swell;" MISS RAY, who's so terribly petted, She sets all the men by the ears; And FRANK, who, you know, was gazetted Last week to the 5th Fusileers; We'd old MRS. HUNT chaperoning And to you, dear, I needn't mind owning, Of course, we'd a side; you can fancy I wish, dear, you'd seen what a glance he A knight of the old feudal ages, So lowly he knelt on the sward, And looked in my face for love's wages- He'd placed the balls for me so neatly, Then gave a sly look, and smiled sweetly- What need to go on, dear?-so charming But now, dear, "Good-bye," for time presses- I thought so to-day, when a Rover He tenderly dwelt on my name. Ah, will he one day play the lover As well as he plays at the game? WARNING TO LITERARY MEN. A YOUNG friend of ours who possessed sufficient creative power to make a book on the last Derby Day-and lost a considerable amount of money on the transaction-is now trying to build a reputation as the author of his own ruin. POLITICAL ECONOMY. THE M.P. for Peter-borough (we don't mean Rome-oh, dear no! quite the reverse) seems to know the whalley of truth, for he appears to be very sparing of that. Meanwhile the soul of the slumberer was visited by a vision of surpassing loveliness! Pshaw! 'twas but the wind, or a car rattling o'er the stony street. But a moment's reflection taught him that all the pavements in Exbury were made of wood; and as for cars-what was a car? The whistle again; nearer and clearer! Oh, what horrible mystery was this? He was a tolerably brave man, that station-master; could snuff a candle with his fingers at thirty paces, for instance. But he had a daughter at home, and his paternal old heart throbbed audibly beneath his official costume as he thought of LucY. LUCY was the name of his child, and her age was thirty-five. Her long ringlets were similar in hue to the setting sun, and her eyes were the colour of a rainbow. She dyed them. Poor LUCY! The whistle once more, and quite close. It might, after all, be only robbers. That part of the country was notoriously in a most unsettled condition, and Government had offered an immense reward for the capture of the infamous (N.B. This name was supposed to be an assumed one.) The station-master CHAPTER III. THE Hillsborough tunnel is only five miles in length, but the darkness is so profound that the most intimate friends might meet in the exact centre of it without being able to recognize each other. If a man were to hold up one of his hands at a distance of six or seven yards from his body in this gloomy spot, he would find it impossible to guess whether it were his right hand or his left. When the 12.20 train emerged from the Hillsborough tunnel it was growing dark. The stranger had gradually cried himself into a deep and dreamless sleep. The time for action had at last arrived. Then the man opposite cautiously lifted the lid from one of his eyes. Finding everything quiet he raised the other. He was now awake. A sardonic smile crept over his usually impassible countenance as he slowly drew from the pocket of his paletôt a curiously shaped bottle containing some liquid of a dark brown colour. He gazed intently for a few moments at the sleeping stranger. No, there could be no deception in that face! Scarcely had he drained to its dregs the curiously shaped bottle mentioned in a previous paragraph, when the sound of a whistle smote his ear. Then another! Then another! The stranger opened his eyes; but it was too late. The curiously shaped bottle had already disappeared. A sudden suspicion dawned upon them both. In another instant |