it all. You didn't tell Lady Susannah, did that I was bound to you you, in any way?

Kate. Oh no!-thank HeavenSmout. Well, thank Heaven toobut it strikes me, young hummingbird, your hopes were a little too highly raised. You must bear the disappointment as well as you are able.

Kate. I will try, cousin; but such a loss is not very easily borneheigho! [Exit slowly, as if in grief. Smout. Such a loss! Ah, there's some truth in that, as you remark; but still you must submit to it all the same. Quality has always been my delight; they're so amazing genteel-such an elegant walk, with such jimmy little parasols (imitating) and bonnets stuck a top of their heads, as if they were trying to balance a pottle of strawberries--but halt: who's here? (Enter TRIPPET with a bandbox.) A reg'lar downright petticoat, and no mis. take! I say, little 'un, that's a very tippy concern that 'ere pink and feathers.

Trip. Oh crikey! here's miss's lover. Oh la! yes, sir, very charming. But the gown, sir; how I do wish you could see the gown!

Smout. Out with it. I'll look at them all; gown, petticoat, stays, boddices-but, I say, how are you off for stockings?-(as if going to look.)

Trip. For shame, sir!-it ain't mine I'm speaking of all these fine things belong to Lady Susannah.

Smout. You don't say so? Let me see the bonnet again. Cussed genteel, 'pon my honour; pink body, white feathers-she'll be a reg'lar high born cockatoo. Do you know her? Trip. She's my missus, sir. Smout. A charming crittur I hear she is; but they're all charming, them noble ladies-and toss their heads with such an air-and speak so loud and look so bold; blow'd if they wouldn't stare a statue out of countenance if it wasn't of the best cast-iron. Here's how they look: I'm a-sitting up in the carriage -coronet and all that on the panel -you're a-walking your horse. I fix my eyes on you the moment I see the crown of your hat-steady !-steady! -not a wink-dead on you the whole time-till the eye grows into a reg'lar burning-glass; and, if you ain't as cool as one of the cold-blooded hanimals, you'll have your whiskers singed off to a certainty.

Trip. And how do you look in return?

Smout. This way-(looks impudently at Trippet)—and move my lips, as if I was saying d-d pretty girl! It's astonishing how it takes.

Trip. Oh la! sir-you stare me out of countenance.

Smout. That's because you ain't in the peerage, my dear. A duke's daughter

Trip. My missus is a duke's daughter, sir.

Smout. Honour bright? Then I'm a made man if I can only come to see her. You couldn't give her a card, could you?

Trip. With some patterns, sir?

Smout. Patterns? No: sink the shop! No-give her the card with my compliments, and tell her that a scientific Brummagem gentleman is anxious to have the honour of asking her ladyship how she finds herself this hot weather. I find it a regular broil. (Gives her a card.)

Trip. Is this the card? Smout and Co., wholesale and retail

Smout. No, no-that's the Badger's-this is the real concern: Mr William Smout, junior, V. P. C.G.S.S.

Trip. V. P. C. G. S. S. What do all those letters mean?

Smout. Ah! that's a poser. I think they look quite as well as K, G., or C.B. Don't you, Papilio?

Trip. But what do they mean, sir? Smout. They mean V. P. Vice-President; C. G. Commercial Gentlemen's; S.S. Scientific Society. Now, are you satisfied?

Trip. Oh, quite, sir! Her ladyship, I'm sure, will be delighted to make your acquaintance.

Smout. Do you say so? Then perhaps, by way of cementing our friendship, a chaste salute―(Offering to kiss her.)

Trip. Paws off, Pompey!

Smout. You won't? What an extrahordinary gal this is! If she were a duke's daughter-or the duke's daughter had such a pair of piercersthe happiest man in England would be William Smout, Esquire. And sc amazing virtuous, too! Ah! if maid's such a terrible Lucre, must the missus be? are you? Trip. Yes, si commands? Smout

the Ja, what ou're going,

; you've no other

Give her the card; tell her

I love her. Don't forget the scientific-it has a fine effect with the ladies, especially them that know nothing about it.

SOV

Trip. Adieu, sir!

Smout. Adieu!-there's a word for a waiting-maid! Give a good report of me to the lady; and as far as a half -I'm your man.-(Erit TRIPPET.)-Lady Susannah! what a sound that is!-Miss Kate! what a sound that is!-my mother-in-law the duchess! that's one way of having relations my mother-in-law that keeps boarders! that's another!-Which of the two to choose?-birds of paradise to barndoor fowls!-let's have a try at the title, by all manner of means. Who's here? some of the lodgers.

Enter Mr STEADY and Mr TWIST. Mr T. with a book under his arm. Twist. In a constitutional country like this, the voice of the nation must be heard.

Steady. Quinctilian denies it.

Twist. The people, let me tell you, Mr Steady, must have a positive control over the management of their own affairs

Smout. Go it, my Whig cauliflower!

Steady. Lycurgus denies it. Smout. At him again, my Tory tulip!

Twist. I say that the freedom of the country-the development of its powers-the safety of its citizens-entirely depend on the influence possessed by the people at large.

Steady. Cicero despises you. Twist. I despise him! Smout. Hear! hear! Twist. The people, the only source of legitimate

Steady. Aristotle laughs at you. Twist. He's an impertinent fellow! I say again-Liberty! freedom! glory!

Steady. Humbug! humbug! humbug!

(As Mr STEADY disappears and shuts the door, SMOUT takes the book from under Mr Twist's arm, and throws it at him. Mr STEADY opens the door, and looks indignantly at Mr TwIST.) Steady. How dare you, sir, throw that volume at me?

like that at another gentleman's head.

Twist. I say so, too, sir. You threw it, sir!

Smout. I, sir? Why should I try to crack this poor gentleman's skull? Steady. Your attempt to blame this gentleman is disgusting, sir!

Twist. What do you mean, you insolent fellow, by calling my conduct disgusting?

Steady. What do you mean, sir, by throwing a book at my head?

Smout. Has a Tory crocodile no brains? has a Whig buffalo no feeling! I'm ashamed of you. Come, gentlemen, shake hands and be friends. Say you're sorry for flinging the book -(to Mr TWIST.)

Twist. I never flung the book, sir! Smout. Say you don't think his conduct disgusting!

Steady. It is very disgusting, sir! He or I must leave this house!

Twist. I shall not live in the same street with such a fellow!

Steady. I shall give up my room this very day. [Exit. Twist. I will not sleep another night under this roof. [Exit.

Smout. There they go!-'Pon my soul, there would be some fun in keeping boarders if they were all such rum uns as my Conservative vulture, Mr Steady, and my Liberal hawk, Mr Twist. Here's another-the Scotch doctor-I know by his bow. Servant, sir!

Doctor. Sir, your most obedient. Here's a braw time for the ha'erst; I wad say-fine weather for the harvest, sir.

Smout. Pretty good for fevers-eh? inflammatory, scarlet, and all the

others.

Doctor. I daursay ye're no far wrang; I wad say I believe you are nearly right, sir. Thir's real birstling days, an' maun het the bluid-these hot days must heat the blood, sir; but dephlogistics and cooling adhibitions

Smout. Oh, you're a doctor, I see! 'Gad, I hope you're not Doctor Macfee?

Doctor. 'Deed am I! What for d'ye houp I'm no?-I wad say I'm the same, sir; why do you hope I ain't?

Smout. Why, because you're a lost man; here's been a duchess sending for you every instant-just put to bed;

good-natured, agreeable young gentleman, as ever was seen! It's that great, roaring, good-for-nothing reprobate, your cousin, child. He has done something or other to make Mr Steady and Mr Twist quarrel. They have both sent for hackney coaches, and leave the house this very day. He is sure to insult the other boarders in the same way, and what's to become of us then?

Kate. Hadn't you better tell him to go away mamma?

Mrs H. Oh no, child! he comes here for a particular purpose-he will perhaps be steadier after he's married. At least, I know your poor dear father was as quiet as possible after we had been married a month. He would not have thrown a book at a gentleman's head for all the world. He

was quite remarkable for his steadiness, and-and-and-something ending in lidity.

Kate. Solidity, mamma!

Mrs H. It was either so or sto

Yes! I think stolidity was the word they used to call it; but it's all the same thing, I suppose; for I never could see any difference between solidity and stolidity-could you?

Kate. Not much, mamma-but what is to be done with cousin William ?

You wouldn't wish me to accept the offer of such a strange individual's hand, so rude and ignorant?

Mrs H. Ignorant! my dear.- Oh, no! There you're very much mistaken. He knows the names of every bird that fiies, and all the animals aud quadrupeds that ever lived. You would think he had spent his whole

time in a show of wild beasts.

Kate. You would, indeed, mamma -but why should you wish me to marry such an ornament of the menagerie?

Mrs H. Because it has always been a settled thing in the family. To be sure, I expected your uncle Samuel to leave you some money; and, indeed, he promised me he would provide for you handsomely; but I have never heard a syllable about it from any body since his death. Your other uncle, cousin William's father, has never noticed us since we became poor, though he continued determined to let his son marry you if he liked ; and I took it for the first symptom of returning kindness, when he wrote me that young William would come

and fulfil his contract with his cousin. It won't do to reject advances from rich relations, Kate.

Kate. Why not, mamma?—Are we not very happy as we are? Have we not contentment and affection to cheer us in all our struggles?—Oh, send this horrid, horrid man away, and let us go on as we used to do, before he came!

Mrs H. Impossible, child!-your entreaties are ill-timed, and, in our situation, altogether-something ending in posterous.

[Erit.

Enter Servant Girl. Serv. A letter, ma'am. Mrs H. I don't know the hand(Reads) - "Madam,-As I believe this day you arrive at eighteen"— Eighteen !well, that's very flattering, I'm sure-"I write this by desire of my departed friend, who trusted to secure your happiness by a union in the holy bands of matrimony."Well, I'm sure! how kind in his departed friend! to desire him to write, too, in such a friendly manner!" You are perhaps aware that I was left sole depository of his intentions; and, in accordance with his instructions, I now write, to urge you, in the strongriage that will this day be made to est terms, to accept the offer of maryou."-How odd! why, who is it, I wonder?" Whichever of you refuses to fulfil the wishes of the deceased, will have cause to repent it. A willingness to gratify him in this respect, will not fail of its reward."Indeed!-well this is a most curious

thing!-a perfect something ending in igma-what a dear kind gentleman the deceased must have been!"I say no more, and remain," &c. &c. "THOMAS DOBBS."

What an agitating letter!-Oh, dear! I wish I had Sal-something ending in tilly.

Kate. Sal Volatile, mamma! Mrs H. Exactly-you've such a memory!

Kate. Nothing bad, I hope?

Mrs H. No, not very bad, child; only very surprising that we should both be married, or asked to marry, the same day.

Kate. Who?

Mrs H. There, read that, child. He's a most sensible, delightful man. Kate. Why, mamma, the letter's to

me- -Miss Catherine Harvey, at full length. Let me read it.

Mrs H. Well, I couldn't understand any body having the impudence to write such nonsense to a person of my time of life. And eighteen, too; I thought there must have been some mistake! If the man had said eightand-twenty-but eighteen! the man must be a positive blockhead.

Kate. Oh, mamma!-this is a letter from Mr Dobbs, executor of uncle Samuel's will, strongly insisting on my marrying cousin William. It's very hard those old people's wills should hinder any one else from having a will of their own.

Mrs H. So it is, dear; but at the same time it's very natural that he should wish to provide for you so comfortably, and at so little expense to himself, by making you the wife of a rich man. It's the way most people's relations like to show their kindness, without its costing them any thing more than advice.

Enter DOCTOR MACFEE in a rage.

Doctor. Madam-Mistress Harvey, whar's that hairy-faced glowerin ne'erdo-weel? I wad say, where's that mustached, insolent scoundrel?

Mrs H. Who is it? Dear Doctor, what's the matter?

Doctor. Nane o' yer fleeching none of your flattery, ma'am. He sent me a gowk's errand-he sent me a wild-goose chase. I won't stay in your house to be insulted by such a low, contemptible vagabond.

Mrs H. Oh, dear!-oh, dear!more mischief-what is it, sir? Has any one offended you?

Doctor. Yes-that rapscallion of a Mr Spout.

Enter SMOUT.

Doctor. Ye're alow my notice, sir. You're beneath my observation. It's you, madam, I blame, for admitting this disgusting barbarian into your house. To day I leave you, madam, and for ever!

Smout. So, you won't tell me about the duchess? that's very unkind. Doctor. No, sir. Your servant, Mrs Harvey. [Exit. Smout. Quack! quack! quack!— (Imitating a duck.) There goes an ornithoryncus platypus-neither a fox nor a goose, but a mixture of both. That fellow would do very well to sing a duet, half Scotch half English, or to be both parson and clerk. "Ye're a fule, sir," says the parson

1

your a fool, sir," says the clerk. "I'll no stop a meenute," says the parson-" I sha'n't stay a minute," says the clerk. But here's some more of them-such fun!

Enter Mr STEADY, with carpet bags,

&c., from his room.

Steady. Your servant, Mrs Harvey. I regret that you have admitted to your house such revolutionary, democratical, and unprincipled people. It contaminates me to breathe the same air-faugh! and their manners! their appearance! but what can you expect from such political principles?-farewell, ma'am." [Exit. Mrs H. Farewell, sir.

Smout. That's the gentleman with the number of odd-named friends that laughed at the other old boy with the book under his arm. No wonder he got into a passion and threw the book at his eye.

Enter TWIST, with carpet-bags, &c.

Twist. I did not, sir. I did nothing of the kind-plain reasoning and sound argument are all that my princi

Doctor. Ye're an insolent, contemptible fellow, sir; an' if it didna degrade me to touch sie an a whalp, I wad whup ye till ye yowl'd again.

Smout. Was it twins after all? poor little dears! They're doing well, I hope? Doctor. Haud the tongue o' ye, or I'll maybe clout yer haffets yet. Silence, I wad say, or I shall perhaps break your skull, even now!

Smout. The innocent darlings! did they squeak, doctor? You found the house, I hope-Number two hundred and thirty?

guilty of such disgraceful conduct.

Smout. Me! You blaspheming hippopotamus! How dare you say that I took any interest in your squabbles? I think the other gentleman's friends served you quite right to laugh at you-though I wish to drop a remark -You were wrong, decidedly very wrong, to throw the book.

Twist. I did not, sir! Smout. Ah, you're sorry for it, I see; so I won't mention it. Don't do it again; there's a good fellow!

Twist. Sir, you are too paltry to be spoken to. And, as to Mr Steady, he