catastrophe applied to himself; then the stare became wider, and a little doubtful; and then he stopped short, as if to reconnoitre-at which the laugh was prodigious. But the new-comer was wise; for he asked what was the matter, of the first person he came up with; and learning how the case stood, had energy enough to compound with one more hearty laugh, in preference to a series of mortifications. He fairly turned back, pursued by a roar; and, oh! how he loved the corner, as he went round it! Every hair at the back of his head had seemed to tingle with consciousness and annoyance. He felt as if he saw with his shoulder-blades;—as if he was face to face at the back of his hat.

At length, the misery and perplexity of Mr. Blundell reached a climax so insurmountable, that he would have taken out his second and (as he thought) remaining pocket-handkerchief, if even that consolation had been left him; for the tears came into his eyes. But it was gone! The handkerchief, however, itself, did not distress him. "Nothing could touch him further." He wiped his eyes with the ends of the fingers of his gloves, and stood mute,—a perplexity to the perplexed,—a pity even to the "little boys."

Now tears are very critical things, and must be cautiously shed, especially in critical ages. In a private way, provided you have locked the door, and lost three children, you may be supposed to shed a few without detriment to your dignity; and in the

heroical ages, the magnitude and candour of passion permitted tears openly, the feelings then being supposed to be equally strong in all respects, and a man to have as much right to weep as a woman. But how lucky was it for poor Blundell that no brother dandy saw him! His tormentors did not know whether to pity or despise him. The pianoforte man, with an oath, was going to move off; but, on looking again at his broken instrument, remained, and urged compensation. The others expressed their sorrow, but repeated, that they hoped his honour would consider them; and they repeated it the more, because his tears raised expectations of the money which he would be weak enough to disburse.

Alas! they did not know that the dislike of disbursement, and the total absence of all sympathy with others in our weeping hero (in this as in other respects, very different from the tear-shedding Achilles), was the cause of all which they and he were at this moment enduring; for it was the inability to bring out his money which kept Mr. Blundell lingering outside his lodging, when he might have taken his claimants into it; and it was the jovial irascibility of an acquaintance of his, which, in disgust at his evasion of dinner-givings, and his repeatedly shirking his part of the score at some entertainments at which he pretended to consider himself a guest, had brought this astounding calamity to his door.

Happily for these "last infirmities" of a mind

which certainly could not be called "noble," there are hearts so full of natural sympathy, that the very greatest proofs of the want of it will but produce, in certain extremities, a pity which takes the want itself for a claim and a misfortune; and this sympathy now descended to Mr. Blundell's aid, like another goddess from heaven, in a shape not unworthy of it,-to-wit, that of the pretty daughter of his landlord, a little buxom thing, less handsome than good-natured, and with a heart that might have served to cut up into cordial bosoms for half a dozen fine ladies. She had once nursed our hero in sickness, and to say the truth, had not been disinclined to fall in love with him, and be made "a lady," half out of pure pity at his fever, had he given her the slightest encouragement; but she might as well have hoped to find a heart in an empty coat. However, a thoroughly good nature never entirely loses a sort of gratitude to the object that has called forth so sweet a feeling as that of love, even though it turn out unworthy, or the affections (as in our heroine's case) be transferred elsewhere; and accordingly, in sudden bonnet and shawl, and with a face blushing partly from shame, and partly from anger at the crowd, forth came the vision of pretty, plump little Miss Widgeon (Mrs. Burrowes "as is to be"), and tapping Mr. Blundell on the shoulder, and begging the "other gentlemen" to walk in, said, in a voice not to be resisted, "Hadn't you better settle this matter in-doors,

Mr. Blundell? I dare say it can be done very easily."

Blundell has gone in, dear reader; the other gentlemen have gone in; the crowd are slowly dislodging; Miss Widgeon, aided partly by the generosity of her nature, partly by the science of lodging-house economy, and partly by the sense and manhood of Mr. William Burrowes, then present, a strapping young citizen from Tower-hill, takes upon herself that ascendency of the moment over Mr. Blundell due to a superior nature, and settles the very illegitimate claims of the goods-andchattel bringers to the satisfaction of all parties, yea, even of Mr. Blundell himself. The balm of the immediate relief was irresistible, even though he saw a few of his shillings departing.

What he felt next morning, when he woke, this history sayeth not; for we like to leave off, according to the Italian recommendation, with a bocca dolce, a sweet mouth; and with whose mouth, even though it was not always grammatical, can the imagination be left in better company than with that of the sweet-hearted and generous little Polly Widgeon?

A VISIT TO THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS. 59

A VISIT TO THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS.*

Monkeys.

Parrots.

The collection there at the time of the visit.—A tiger broke loose.
-Mild anthropophagy of the bear.-The elephant the Dr.
Johnson of animals. Giraffes.
Eagles.-Mysteries of animal thought.-Is it just in human
beings to make prisons of this kind?

WE went to the Zoological Gardens the other day, for the first time, to see our old friends "the wild beasts" (grim intimates of boyhood), and enjoy their lift in the world from their lodgings in Towers and Exeter Changes, where they had no air, and where an elephant wore boots, because the rats gnawed his feet! The first thing that struck us, next to the beauty of the Gardens, and the pleasant thought that such flowery places were now prepared for creatures whom we lately thrust into mere dens and dust-holes, was the quantity of life and energy they displayed. What motion!-what strength!-what elegance! What prodigious chattering, and bril*In the year 1835.