In the midst of their strife,

And just as the knife

Of the Pirate is raised to deprive him of life,

The Captain comes forward, drawn there by the squeals Of the Lady, and, knocking Giles head over heels, Fractures his "nob,"

Saves the hangman a job,

And executes justice most strictly, the rather, 'Twas the spot where the rascal had murder'd his father Then in comes the mother,

Who, finding one brother

Had the instant before saved the life of the other,
Explains the whole case.

Ashdale puts a good face

On the matter; and since he's obliged to give place,
Yields his coronet up with a pretty good grace;

Norman vows he won't have it—the kinsmen embrace,-
And the Captain, the first in this generous race,
To remove every handle

For gossip and scandal,

Sets the whole of the papers alight with the candle;
An arrangement takes place on the very same night, all
Is settled and done, and the points the most vital
Are, N. takes the personals; A., in requital,
Keeps the whole real property, Mansion, and Title.
V. falls to the share of the Captain, and tries a
Sea-voyage as a Bride in the "Royal Eliza."

Both are pleased with the part they acquire as joint heirs,
And old Maurice Beevor is bundled down stairs !

MORAL.

The public, perhaps, with the drama might quarrel
If deprived of all epilogue, prologue, and moral,
This may serve for all three then :-

"Young Ladies of property, Let Lady A.'s history serve as a stopper t' ye; Don't wed with low people beneath your degree, And if you've a baby, don't send it to sea!

"Young Noblemen! shun every thing like a brawl;
And be sure when you dine out, or go to ball,
Don't take the best hat that you find in the hall,
And leave one in its stead that's worth nothing at all!

"Old Knights, don't give bribes! above all, never urge

a man

To steal people's things, or to stick an old Clergyman !

"And you, ye Sea-Captains! who 've nothing to do

But to run round the world, fight, and drink till all's blue,
And tell us tough yarns, and then swear they are true,
Reflect, notwithstanding your sea-faring life,
That you can't get on well long, without you 've a wife;
So get one at once, treat her kindly and gently,
Write a Nautical novel,—and send it to Bentley !"

It has been already hinted that Mr. Peters had been a "traveller" in his day. The only story which his lady would ever allow "her P." to finish -he began as many as would furnish an additional volume to the "Thousand and One Nights"-is the last I shall offer. The subject, I fear me, is not over new, but will remind my friends

"Of something better they have seen before."

317

MR. PETERS'S STORY.

THE BAGMAN'S DOG.

Stant littore Puppies!-VIRGIL.

It was a litter, a litter of five,

Four are drown'd and one left alive,

He was thought worthy alone to survive;
And the Bagman resolved upon bringing him up,
To eat of his bread, and to drink of his cup,
He was such a dear little cock-tail'd pup.

The Bagman taught him many a trick;

He would carry and fetch, and run after a stick, Could well understand

The word of command,

And appear to doze

With a crust on his nose,

Till the Bagman permissively waved his hand; Then to throw up and catch it he never would fail, As he sat up on end, on his little cock-tail.

Never was puppy so bien instruit,

Or possess'd of such natural talent as he;

Agreed he

And as he grew older,

Every beholder

grew

handsomer, sleeker, and bolder.—

Time, however his wheels we may clog,

Wends steadily still with onward jog,

And the cock-tail'd puppy's a curly-tail'd dog!

When just at the time,

He was reaching his prime,

And all thought he'd be turning out something sublime, One unlucky day,

How, no one could say,

Whether some soft liaison induced him to stray,
Or some kidnapping vagabond coax'd him away,
He was lost to the view

Like the morning dew ;

He had been, and was not that's all that they knew;
And the Bagman storm'd, and the Bagman swore,
As never a Bagman had sworn before;

But storming or swearing but little avails,
To recover lost dogs with great curly tails.—

In a large paved court, close by Billiter Square,
Stands a mansion old, but in thorough repair,
The only strange thing, from the general air
Of its size and appearance, is, how it got there;
In front is a short semicircular stair

Of stone steps, some half score,—

Then you reach the ground floor,

With a shell-pattern'd architrave over the door.
It is spacious, and seems to be built on the plan
Of a Gentleman's house in the reign of Queen Anne;
Which is odd, for although,

As we very well know,

Under Tudors and Stuarts the City could show
Many Noblemen's seats above Bridge and below,
Yet that fashion soon after induced them to go
From St. Michael Cornhill, and St. Mary le Bow,
To St. James, and St. George, and St. Anne in Soho.
Be this as it may, at the date I assign

To my tale, that's about Seventeen Sixty Nine,

This mansion, now rather upon the decline,
Had less dignified owners, belonging in fine,
To Turner, Dry, Weipersyde, Rogers, and Pyne,
A respectable House in the Manchester line.

There were a score

Of Bagmen and more,

Who had travell'd full oft for the firm before;
But just at this period they wanted to send
Some person on whom they could safely depend,
A trustworthy body, half agent, half friend,
On some mercantile matter as far as Ostend;
And the person they pitch'd on, was Anthony Blogg,
A grave steady man not addicted to grog,—
The Bagman, in short, who had lost this great dog.

*

"The Sea! the Sea! the open Sea!

That is the place where we all wish to be,

Rolling about on it merrily !"

So all sing and say,

By night and by day,

*

In the boudoir, the street, at the concert, and play,

In a sort of coxcombical roundelay;

You may roam through the City, transversely or straight,
From Whitechapel turnpike to Cumberland gate,

And every young Lady who thrums a guitar,
Ev'ry mustachio'd Shopman who smokes a cigar,
With affected devotion,

Promulgates his notion,

Of being a "Rover" and "child of the Ocean "
Whate'er their age, sex, or condition may be,
They all of them long for the "Wide, Wide Sea."
But, however they dote,