MRS. BROWN GOES INTO THE COUNTRY. I SAYS to BROWN, "BROWN, if you thinks as I'm a-goin' to have my own daughter married down in them out-of-the-way places unbeknown you're mistaken, for I'm not a-goin' to do nothin' of the sort." "Well," he says, "go if you like, but you'll find the journey a buster and no mistake." I says, "I likes that certainly a-comin' from you, as has dragged me through the high seas arter you; and as to travellin', though it's a thing as I don't hold with, yet it's a duty as I feels to my child." He says, "It's her duty for to come up and be married here I considers." I says, "You know as it were a promise give last summer, when she had three weeks' holiday, and we didn't think as we should be that comfortable off as to make her turn up her nose at such a place, and I'm sure the things as they give her is wonderful to think on, and you liked the young man when he come up to see us." So BROWN "Go if you like." he says, I says, for him. "You come too." Well, he didn't give in to that not at first, but I see as he meant for to do it, so got everythin' ready If ever there was a man as did credit to dress it's BROWN, though aggravatin' at times in not a-wearin' what I wishes. As for myself, I've got lovely things as I had altered, and a new slate-coloured silk as made up very becomin', though I'm certain as that MRS. MOFFATT must 'ave took yards, a-sayin' as a gored skirt was equal to seven breadths, as is rubbish to look at. They was to be married in Christmas week, and though I must say it's a time as I likes to be at home, we went off on the Thursday as the weddin' was to be Saturday. I got a MRS. WALLIS, a steady widder, for to come and keep house along with my MARY ANN, and set them both plenty to do for to fill up their time till the Tuesday night next, when I was to be back, but didn't say exactly. I do think that a railway is reg'lar Bedlam broke loose, that I do; for what with a-rushin' here and pushin' there I was pretty nigh drove mad, and BROWN a-blowin' up, a-sayin', "Late as usual," through bein' that aggravatin', as he would go on first and wait for me, and then fly out because I waited outside for him, and nearly missed the train. I must say as them Great Western carriages is roomy, but there is no comfort in them, and if it hadn't been for the carpet-bag my legs would have been a-danglin' all the way. It's a mercy as I could sleep or I don't think I could a-bore the journey, as was that long, though it didn't seem so, and only stopped once for refreshments as I didn't want through havin' a basket with me. Bless you, when we got out of the train, as I was that stiff as I couldn't move, there was young BUMBERRY, as is a-goin' to marry my 'Liza, a-waitin' for us, and glad to see us. "Where's my gal?" says I. "Oh, it's a good four miles yet," says he, "and I've got the trap, and the mare 'll do it in little more than twenty minutes." "Will she," says I, "then I won't trouble her;" for I know'd what that meant was upsets. "Oh," he says, "the roads is first-rate." Well, by that time we was out of the station, and there stood a butcher's cart the very identical to the one as killed SAMMY ROBERTS in the Mile-end-road, as caused his mother's death, and both a-layin' in Stepney Churchyard to this very hour. He says, "I've got the lamps," and so he had, a couple of reg'lar glarers as I calls 'em, and there was the mare with her cars up, and lookin' after the train and a-snortin' for to keep it company, as is very like to terrify a dumb brute, as can't comprehend it, and however should they, for I'm sure if I'd been told as such things would have happened when I was a gal I wouldn't never have believed it, as am not a dumb brute myself. It's all very well to talk about country roads, but town's quite good enough for me, though certainly over the stones in a empty buss has shook me frightful before now; but of all the shaking as ever I got it was them Devonshire lanes, as was like drivin' through where the sewers is all up. I never did; I was all up one side one minute and down nowheres the next; it's lucky as I was wedged in tight between BROWN and young BUMBERRY, or pitched out I know I should. It was all very well along the road, but all of a sudden we turned into a lane as was a hill that steep like goin' down a ladder, for by the light of the lamps I could only see the animal's tail. Young BUMBERRY was a-talkin' away cheerful like to BROWN when all of a sudden there came a jolt as sent me up a-flyin' and down agin with that violence as caused somethin' for to go bump at the bottom of the cart, the mare give a sudden twist. Says I, "We're done for." "Hold your row," says BROWN. 66 Help!" says I, for I felt myself a-goin' gradual. Out jumps young BUMBERRY sudden, as lightened the cart, and over I goes right into a quickset edge, as broke my fall, but tore me dreadful. I should have been all very well if the top of the edge had been wide enough for to have held me, but, law bless yon, in my struggles I rolled over the other side into a ditch, as was all slush and filth. I could hear young BUMBERRY a-hollarin' and the mare a-kickin', and BROWN a-usin' langwidge as made my blood run as cold as the water I was a-layin' in. It was ever so long before they could make out where I was got to, and then when they did find me if BROWN didn't set to and laugh like mad, and made that young BUMBERRY grin. "Well," I says, "this is nice manners, this is. Whatever can there be to laugh at?" Says BROWN, "No bones broke, old gal; but you are a cure to look at." hearthstone to set at the rest of your days," though it's my opinion Says I, "It's a mercy I ain't a kill, and you with a widdered as he would settle agin. "Come," he says, "jump in; you'll get a chill." "In where?" says I. "To the trap," says he. young BUMBERRY, "It's jest over a mile; but," he says, "if you'll "Never!" says I. "I'll walk if it's as far as Jericho." Says get in I'll lead the mare all the way." "No," says I, no more of your mares for me. I can trust my legs I know." So on we walked, BROWN a-gettin' into the cart, as than when we come to a white gate as young BUMBERRY opened, and seemed to me to bump wuss than ever, and never was I more pleased give a hollar, and up come in a minnit my gal. and so I was, you never did. I says, "Take me in quiet where I can't I says, "My dear, don't come near me; I'm a mud-cart for filth;" be seen;" but, law bless you, the place seemed full of men and boys, as had lanterns, and then come two young women with candles to the kitchen-door, as couldn't keep from smilin', though a-holding of their aprons to their mouths as though it struck cold. MRS. BUNBERRY is a motherly sort of woman, with a cap on as with hot water and all manner, and certainly a drop of mulled elder must have been her grandmother's. She would have me up-stairs wine and a bit of dry toast did seem to bring the life into me. I wouldn't go down no more that night, as was a comfortable bedroom, though the ceilin' low and white curtains in winter time has a chilly look. I didn't have much of a night of it through a-dreamin' constant as I was a-pitchin' out, and once pretty nearly did, a-pullin' BROWN with that MRS. BUMBERRY she says, "You lay a-bed, MRS. BROWN," and so me. In the mornin' I was that stiff and queer with my legs a-achin', did, but up for a cup of tea, as one or two neighbours dropped in for, but through not a-feelin' myself didn't set up for supper. Well, the weddin' come off the next mornin'. She was married from her place, and though I says it as shouldn't, looked as pretty as need be. Certainly, them young ladies was like sisters to her, and treated me like a lady, and so did MRS. FULLER, as is the lady's name, through bein' a minister's widow. I didn't go to church-I never do; for the only time as ever I did a-provin' to be married, and transported before through bigamy, was to see a aunt of mine married, as turned out unlucky through him if I hadn't been so bruised about the shoulders, not as it signified There was a pretty breakfast, and I should have been quite happy through not a-showin', and what the eye don't see the heart don't grieve for, not as that always holds good, for MISS WITTLES, where I ketch sight on, not even by squintin', yet never rested till extracted by lived, had a wart atween her eyebrows over the nose as she couldn't the roots, as brought on fever and had a narrow squeak for it. couldn't bring myself to call Joun for ever Things went off very pleasant, as did 'LIZA and her husband, as I so long, it seemed that free. They went to spend a week down at his uncle's in Cornwall, as is a cripple through rheumatics, and would see them, as hasn't chick nor child, as the sayin' is, with a pretty property to leave. quiet day, and BROWN and me went to tea with MRS. FULLER, as We had a bit of a party the Saturday, then come Sunday, as was a would have us, and said my gal was one in ten thousand, and made me cry for to hear her that praised. marryin' into the country it wouldn't suit me, and if I'm not mistaken It's all very well, of course, for them as is born to it, but as to that MRS. BUMBERRY is a temper. She's one of them worrets as won't let nothin' rest, though I must say I never see such a clean place, and so it ought to be with no blacks nor nothin' for to defame it. For my part I'd rather have the blacks and the fogs in town than them roads, as I shall carry the marks on to my grave. But, bless you, them people down there don't seem to think no more of bein' pitched out of a cart than if it was nothin'; but all I says is that London's good enough and big enough for me, and as to the country it don't seem to have no bounds, and I don't care about it. So I says to BROWN, "Home a-Monday if you please;" and he "All right!" says, THE MODERN DAMOCLES.-LORD JOHN RUSSELL, who will shortly find a sword above his head-suspended in EYRE. THE VISION OF THE ALDERMAN. And, lo! that alderman slept and snored, For, carried away on the wings of Sleep, And many a Bac- Turtle and sal mon and cheese were And the bilious For the sherris rare. But a cloud came The slumbering alderman groaned a groan, In that being's pimply face. And "oh!" he cried, as he started up; Farewell for ever the baneful cup They laid him upon the bed; And they left him, sleeping the sleep of care, THE CABINET COUNCIL. (FROM OUR USUAL TRAITOR.) Present-,LORD RUSSELL, asleep, Two OLD WHIGS, LORD GRANVILLE. SIR CHARLES WOOD.-Capital! Wonderful! Nobody like him! LORD RUSSELL.--Hmmmnhh-ach! Hmmmnhh-ach! Brish Costooshun-tooshun-aroosha-isha-isha-wrch! (sneezes.) SIR GEORGE GREY.-Thoroughly constitutional, you know. Full of experience. Ah, wonderful man, sir! SIR CHARLES WOOD.-Wonderful! Nobody like him! Keeps his own counsel so well-snores so judiciously. LORD GRANVILLE.-Don't you think it would be just as well to-to over his gaze-just rouse him a little, you know-burnt feathers, or vinegar, or a eftsoons, little sal volatile-so as to give his splendid intellect, in point of fact, fair play? Or pinch him a little ? And his wicked SIR CHARLES WOOD (with Spartan courage).-If you do pinch him, it shall only be over my dead body! At least, I don't mean, of course, Till drink turned that you could pinch him, literally speaking, over me; and I should each of the like to see any of you try it, in the present state of India; but what I silver spoons mean is, of course, you leave him alone. I never knew a RUSSELL To a couple of who couldn't take care of himself and his own family; at least, when spoons for I say that I never knew a RUSSELL, of course I him! He bowed his Till he saw vast holiday crowds in Chepe And still wherever the burghers thronged, Scarlet Sheriffs, the City's pride, The whole of the courtyard just outside And, in front of the central gateway there, And a being arrayed in pomp and pride And they begged that being to mount and ride But, oh! he was fat, so ghastly fat That, in spite of many attempts thereat, He couldn't be pushed inside. That being was pressed, but pressed in vain, The gilded vehicle rocked again, SIR GEORGE GREY.-CHARLES, CHARLES! Be calm. He is waking. He is about to speak. Hear, hear! LORD RUSSELL.-Thank you; I am obleeged. Under the circumstances, let us proceed to business. When the late MR. EDMUND BURKE SIR CHARLES WOOD.-Hear, hear! LORD RUSSELL (with unusual severity).-I said, gentlemen, WHEN the late MR. EDMUND BURKE. Very good. Call 'em in. Enter MR. GLADSTONE, MR. GOSCHEN, and the rest of them. SIR CHARLES WOOD (aside),-The worst of it is I've forgotten all about Bhootan, and the Tongso Pelow-or the Pongso Telow-it's a great pity, I think, LAWRENCE can't persuade them to call themselves by more reasonable names, or else to-Thank you. LORD RUSSELL.-Pray, my dear CHARLES, permit me. I am obleeged. The problem before HER MAJESTY's responsible advisers is, I apprehend, how they are to retain office during the next six months. MR. GLADSTONE.-But- LORD RUSSELL.-Pardon me. The budget is a secondary consideration-though, if you like, I can give you a few hints that might MR. GLADSTONE.-I am sorry I interrupted you; pray proceed. LORD RUSSLLL.-I thought it incumbent upon me to introduce some new blood; which may account for the presence here of our very meritorious young friend MR. GOSCHEN, from the city; who, I am sure, will meet with a cordial reception from all my old political associates. SIR GEORGE GREY.-How do, GoSCHEN? Cold-cold, isn't it? Seasonable, though. SIR CHARLES WOOD.-Ha, ha, GOSCHEN, so here you are, eh, you young dog, you? Better than sitting in a city office, isn't it, counting up balance-sheets and-and codicils, and-and contingents? You'd like a round game better, though, I suppose, wouldn't you? or forfeits -or beggar my neighbour-or blind man's buff-ah, well, boys will be boys! I was just the same at your age, my boy; just like you! MR. GOSCHEN.-Indeed, SIR CHARLES? I should scarcely have suspected it! LORD RUSSELL.-There; surely, that's satisfactory? What more do the people want, I should like to know? Eh? And now they talk of more new blood. It's a capital government as it stands-capital; and the national business is in a thoroughly satisfactory conditionthoroughly satisfactory. Look at the Colonies-eh, CARDWELL? MR. CARDWELL.-Well, every second man I meet seems to consider that we've shamefully sacrificed GOVERNOR EYRE; and people do talk of a coup d'état at Victoria; but Heligoland is tranquil, and the domestic happiness of St. Helena is undisturbed. SIR CHARES WOOD (to MR. GOSCHEN, with conciliatory views).—St. Helena; yes; that's where they put old BONEY, you know; but I forget about Heligoland, exactly; it's somewhere off a foreign coast, like Ceylon! Stop, though; I'm thinking of Malta. LORD GRANVILLE.-It's really quite late. I have an engagement to luncheon at five-and perhaps there was a little unavoidable delay here before we began business. LORD RUSSELL (forgetting that LORD GRANVILLE was present).—The time was not wasted, my lord; the time was not wasted! SIR GEORGE GREY. SIR CHARLES WOOD. and--and constitutional. Not at all, not at all. Most entertaining— We have been much tickled by the thorough Hibernicism of the following advertisement, clipt from a Dublin paper: MISSING, since the 1st instant, a MAN, answering the following description:Age 29; height 5 feet 6 inches; long fair hair, large sandy whiskers, wearing a moleskin jacket, black cloth trousers, brown mixture tweed vest, a drab cloth sleeve waistcoat, a pair of elastic boots, without stockings, a worn cloth cap, a black silk neckerchief. Whoever will be good enough to see him at home with his family will be paid all expenses. His Residence is 47, Street, Dublin. In what a charming way is foreshadowed the delight of the family at the return of the wanderer. They will be so pleased that they will keep open house for "whoever will be good enough to see him at home with his family"-indeed, as it appears to us, are prepared to defray the travelling charges of those who will take a trip to 47, Street, in order to see this happy family. We have long meditated a trip o Ireland, and this has decided us. We are off to-morrow, in hopes of soon clapping eyes on a pair of large sandy whiskers wearing a moleskin jacket a sight well worth the journey even if we had to pay our own expenses. A Spur for Spurgeon. WHAT is coming to MR. SPURGEON? Does he cease to draw? W saw in the Band of Hope Review the other day an account of a lecture he delivered on behalf of the teetotallers, a class he has hitherto (and it seemed like a lucid interval) invariably denounced. Now he is going in for fancy fairs: THE BAZAAR at the METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, Newington, in aid of the Fund for Building Chapels in and around London, is OPEN THIS DAY, from 10 a.m. to 9 p.m. Admission 1s. Why doesn't he turn his comic talent to account, if the speculation is beginning to droop? A pantomime at this season would be likely to draw large numbers of his admirers together we should think. GIN A BODY. GENERAL GRANT, in his report on the last year of the American campaign, says that GENERAL BUTLER was of no more use to him than if he had been "in a bottle strongly corked." Well, any butler knows that wine that is corked is not of much value at any time, but how utterly useless would this corked bottle have been with such a very bad body! Fashionable News. THE EARL OF CORK is to be Master of the Buckhounds, and arrangements have been accordingly made to teach those sagacious animals to draw coverts with cork-screws. GOOD NEWS FOR EXETER HALL. Ir is reported that the CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER intends to remove all duties from w(h)ine. WHAT A BORE! Ir is said that there is to be another tunnel under the Thames, and that it will be at Deptford. It may well be a Debt-ford, for the first one never paid its way! THE LAUREATE LOQUITUR. 1866. How shall we rise and welcome him? A fine-drawn thought? Or say, shall one Come from the hills of Calydon? And yet no Pan one could raise, Could fitly sing the coming storm; When BRIGHT is bawling for Reform, And RUSSELL runs through shambling ways. And though a broader day may come; Old voices echo on the night, Old voices bring the old delight, In soft winds blown about a home, That haunted by the memory still, Shows violets mouldering to decay, And sadly falls the new year's day, With windy peals from hill to hill. So we to whom all grace belongs The heirs of all the cycles bring, Must tune dyspeptic harps, and sing The refrain of our fatuous songs. And still the hills repeat the strain, For now whatever may befall, One happy thought is over all, The thought that "Here we are again!” At the risk of offending E. A. L., we must confess that we think 8 friend was right. LORD No Zoo.-You had better alter your title to "No Go." J. J., Walsall, says he "encloses an idea;" but he appears to have thought better of such extravagance as there is no idea to be found in his MS. H. T. R.-Copy declined-the only fun we could find in it was on the back of each sheet-a note-paper heading, "Middlesex Election, LORD RANELAGH's Committee Room." We did not know his lordship was a man of letters, but he appears to have laid in a stock for a large correspondence. J. H. C.-Your contribution is excessive in length. Our printer says the prospectus of the " Early Rising Association" would be a long time "getting up." H. F. A., Upper Sydenham.-We have received your joke about the police-p'lice don't repeat the offence. JACKO.-Your "Northumberland Lion" won't do-it is only the skin with yourself inside. ASPIRA MINERVA PLANE.-We wish your point were plain also. |