"How contradictious you are, Mr. Hobbleday," said Mrs. S. "I say littery part, and I appeal to that gentleman which of us is right."

Not having yet read a line of the work, it was impossible for me to decide.

"As it is, I have nearly half a hundred-weight of the littery part,” persisted Mrs. S., "of last year's annuals on hand; but the paper is so smooth, and glossy, and crackly, it's of no use for making up parcels; and as for putting it at the bottom of tarts, the nasty ink on it would pisen the people. Wish you very good morning, gentlemen."

BOARDING-HOUSES.

"Little Pedlington would be a perfect paradise if it warn't for them boarding-houses. But they are the pest of the place -they ought to be annilliated-Government ought to interfere and put them down. When we send members to Parliament (which we have as good a right to do as many other places), I'll give my vote and support to whomsoever will go in upon the independent interest, and bring in a bill to put down boarding-houses. And yet, upon the whole, I can't say they do me much harm, for real gentlefolks don't go to them. Real gentlefolks don't like to be pisen'd with stale fish and bad meat. I know how much a pound Mrs. Stintum, of the Crescent boarding-house, pays for her meat; and I know how Mrs. Starvum, of South Street, bargains for her fish and poultry. I don't say it to their disparagement, poor devils! because people must live, and those who sell cheap must buy cheap; only they ought to be a little more careful in cholera times. But go to my butcher, sir, and ask him what sort of meat Scorewell of the Green Dragon buys-my son George, who is the most pre-eminent butcher in the market; and ask my other son, Tobias, who serves me with every morsel of fish and poultry that comes into this house, what prices I pay for my commodities; I'm not ashamed to have my larder looked into before the victuals is cooked. If, indeed, they would only live and let live, as I say; but two stingy, cheating, undermining, evil-speaking old tabbies like them, who cannot bear to see anybody thrive but themselves -especially me! They are the only two nuisances in the place, and it would be better for everybody if they were out of it. The world is big enough for us all, so there's no need of envy

and jealousy, and of trying to do one's neighbour harm; that's my maxim, and I wish that they, and those rascals at the Butterfly and Bullfinch, and the Golden Lion, would profit by it."-(Scorewell loquitur.)

BORES.

"Thinking about Sir Gabriel Gabble, a chattering bore, and Major Mum, a silent bore. One will sit with you tête-àtête through a long winter's evening, as mute as if he had but just issued from the cave of Trophonius, and (as Charles Bannister said of Dignum) thinks he's thinking; the other will chatter your very head off-his matter compounded of dull trivialities, common-place remarks, and the most venerable of old women's gossip, all which he calls conversation. Query 1.-Which of the two is the least to be endured? Query 2.-Were you to be indicted for that you did accidentally toss them both (or any of the like) out at window, whereby did ensue a consummation devoutly to be wished,' would not a jury of any sensible twelve of your countrymen return a verdict of Justifiable Boreicide?'"

COACHES v. RAILWAYS.

"I was in a most amiable mood, for the sky was bright and the atmosphere so unusually pure that from the Regent's Circus I could clearly distinguish the Duke of York's column. The day for my journey, fine. Took my place on the coachbox. Driver an agreeable, chatty man. During some hours, from the moment of our quitting London, he entertained me with accounts of all the dreadful accidents which had lately occurred on railroads and in steamboats. Swore that for safety-to say nothing of its gentility-there was no conveyance comparable with an elegant, light, four-horse coach. Åt this moment-being within seven miles of Doddleton-the horses took fright at an old woman in a scarlet cloak, and galloped off at race-horse speed. Whatever we met on the road avoided us as if a pestilence had been approaching. At half-a-mile's distance from the village, the elegant, new, light, four-horse Patent Safety coach was upset, and we, the outsides (inside passengers there were none), were tossed over a hedge into a field of standing corn. We were all more or less hurt by sprains and bruises, but none of us sufficiently so to prevent our assisting the driver, who lay sense

less on the ground, with a broken leg and a dislocated shoulder. He was conveyed to Doddleton, where he immediately received surgical assistance. The coach was so much damaged that it could not continue the journey, so another was provided to carry us forward. Certainly, for safety, there is nothing

like an elegant, light, four-horse coach."

AN ANGRY NOTE.

"Mrs. Strutt desires Mr. Yawkins will instantly send in his bill for the two cakes of Windsor soap, also the toothbrush, she owes him for, as she intends to withdraw her custom from his shop, and give it somewhere where people have enough to do to mind their own business, without troubling themselves about other people's. Mrs. S. also informs Mr. Y. that she does not intend to renew her subscription to his library when her present week is out, as people taken up with pleasant conversation naturally forget to send new works when bespoke. Mrs. S. also informs Mr. Y. that she has struck his name off the free-list of the theatre, which she has still a right to do, whatever Mr. Y. may report to the contrary. Mrs. S. desires Mr. Y. will be sure to receipt the bill, as people who trouble themselves so much with what does not concern them might forget to scratch it out of their books when paid, and she is not fond of disputes."

PRIEST'S ORDERS.

An actor named Priest was playing at one of the principal theatres. Some one remarked at the Garrick Club that

there were a great many men in the pit. "Probably clerks who have taken priests' orders." The pun is perfect, and is by Mr. Poole.

SHOW-HOUSES.

In a commercial country, where everything is considered relatively to its money-value, it certainly is "but fair" that noblemen and gentlemen, whose mansions and their contents are worth an inspection, should allow their servants to make a charge for the exhibition of them. I do not pretend that such a proceeding is noble or dignified, or handsome; or, indeed, at all worthy of a person of high station, but, merely and strictly, that it is fair. We pay for seeing the sights in the Tower, the lions in Wombwell's booth, and in that

in Drury Lane; a charge is made for showing the waxwork in Westminster Abbey, and at Madame Tussaud's rooms ; and upon what principle, either of justice or equity, are we to expect that the Duke of A. or the Earl of Z., if they allow us to see their galleries or their grounds, should grant us such an indulgence gratis? The notion is preposterous. There are, indeed, certain thriftless proprietors of what are called showhouses, who are so inconsiderate as to do this, but they form an exception to the general rule; and, happily for the honour and integrity of the maxim, "Give nothing for nothing," such instances of improvidence are not numerous.

A GOSSIP.

"That, sir," said Yawkins, "is the most pestilent little gossip in the town. A secret runs through him like water through a sieve. He is not happy till he has got it, and is miserable till he is rid of it. He is worse than forty old women. You cannot be sure of the duration of a common acquaintance for a day if he gets between you. He is a sort of cholera in social life; and, when he 'breaks out' in a place, he 6 carries off' friendships by the dozen. Ah! sir, you ought to be very happy that you have no Hobbledays in London."

"TOUCHING" EXHIBITIONS.

Chickney, the poulterer, who has naturally been appointed keeper of our Zoological Gardens, and honorary secretary, has presented us with a stuffed kangaroo. Yesterday there was a private view of it. Interesting sight! Subdued, quiet interest, though not of an exciting interest like the monkeys on the ladies' days, Sundays, you know. Interesting creature, though. Paper pasted on it-"Visitors are requested not to touch." Very foolish-gave great offence. How can one tell what kangaroos are made of if one isn't allowed to touch. Besides, I'm a friend of the people-public property-people have a right to touch; and the moment Chickney's back was turned people did touch. And what harm did they do? Nothing but a little bit of its tail, one fore-paw, and two claws of the other broken off. Chickney angry--very foolish to be angry-told him so. Easy to glue the pieces on again if ever he should get them back. If not, what then? What is that in comparison with the rights of the people? I don't

.

I know how the case may be with you Londoners, but this I can tell you, my dear fellow, no free-born Pedlingtonian will relinquish his right at an exhibition of touching whatever he can lay his hands upon.

As Rome, we are told, was not built in a day, so ought it not to be made a subject of complaint against the "worthy Cockneys" that everything that is destructible, and within their reach, in the public places to which they are admitted, is not yet destroyed. In Westminster Abbey, for instance, much still remains to be done; though, considering that that edifice has never yet been thrown open gratis, at all hours of the day, to all sorts of people, it is astonishing, as well as satisfactory, to reflect on the prodigious quantity of noses, toes, fingers, and other equally vulnerable parts which have been knocked off from the numerous monuments, even under the present restricted system of admission. Some portions of the work, however, are complete, or nearly so. Of the delicate inlaid brass-work which formerly so profusely ornamented many of the tombs (that of Edward the Confessor, for example), some, though not much, still remains to be scooped out; but once let the Abbey be thrown open gratis, and, with common industry, the whole of the work in that department might be finished in a month. The antique coronation chairs, however, are actually completed; and so entirely are they carved over with names, dates, and initial letters―ornaments at once interesting and appropriate that there hardly is room on any part of them to cut a dot to an i.

The origin of the chef-d'œuvre of our author is thus pleasantly related by him in the New Monthly Magazine :

The idea of the character of Paul Pry was suggested by the following anecdote, related to Mr. Poole several years ago by a beloved friend. An idle old lady, living in a narrow street, had passed so much of her time in watching the affairs of her neighbours, that she at length acquired the power of distinguishing the sound of every knocker within hearing. It happened that she fell ill, and was several days confined to her bed. Unable to observe, in person, what was going on without doors, she stationed her maid-servant at the window of her room, as a substitute for the performance of that duty. But Betty soon grew weary of the avocation; she became careless in her reports, impatient and tetchy when reprimanded for her negligence.