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morning in a steamer for America, taking with him nothing but a stout pair of shoes and a hatchet; and telling his acquaintances that they would shortly hear of his keeping a small shop, with-small beer sold here—at Bogota, or a gin-palace, on the top of Chimborazo. -Some time afterwards, it was reported that he had returned, and had brought with him a fine collection of parrots and parroquets, for the sale of which he had established a regular trade by commission with a red Indian tribe in the back settlements: he taught all his parrots to quote Horace, and sing Drops of Brandy, and might be seen daily at his stand, at the corner of Pall Mall, with a long pole over his shoulder, and wires as perches for the parrots, swung in balance at either end; and the remaining Miss Scraggs, who seemed now destined to become an old maid, purchased one of the parrots.

The pretty Mrs. Blandford still continued to exhibit her children as if they were wild beasts, and herself the keeper of the ménagerie : her last joke was as follows

“Who was the wisest man, my little dear?
“ Solomon, mamma.”
“And who was the wisest woman, Charlie ?”

“ There never was a wise woman, mamma,” answered Charlie.

“Do make him say it again—it is so pretty," exclaimed the delighted audience.

Olympe, Comtesse de Hauteville, continued to observe all those exact distinctions and precise differences which separate at Paris the class of “ femmes honnêtes” from that of “ femmes galantes.”

Sir Derby Doncaster fell ill of the gout; and his physician ordered him to be fired in the off hind leg, blistered, and turned out at Baden-Baden for a summer's run.

The Rev. Samuel Circumflex took at last a college living; and if not exactly a Pharisee, continued, at any rate, to play the part of a High Priest: that naughty boy, Bob Tracy, finding that he was staying in London, and used to pass every day down Pall Mall, took great pains to teach his parrots to say “No parsons;" and thought of that soliloquy, put into the mouth of le bon Dieu by Béranger:

" A ces gens-là, si j'ouvre ma porte,

Que le diable m'emporte ! que le diable m'emporte !" At last, our hero being one day in London, and passing by from his club, thought he recognized the features of Bob Tracy, as those of an old college acquaintance. Finding it to be the case, he gave him his hand, helped him out of all his difficulties, procured for him ordination, through his interest with the Bishop of Hornchester, a particular friend and distant connection of his own family, and presented him to the finest living in the gift of the Earls of Furstenroy, where Bob made an excellent parish priest, and all the better for his experience—bowed with a patronizing air to his old tutor, when he met him at the Visitations—and enjoyed an income, from his tithes and glebe, of four times the amount of that which the Rev. Samuel Circumflex derived from his college vicarage. Bob was shortly afterwards made, through the continued kindness of Lord Furstenroy, his domestic chaplain, and has been promised a prebendal stall in a cathedral in the north, when a vacancy occurs !-Gentle reader, farewell!

FINIS.

C. Whittingham, Tooks Court, Chancery Lane.

Just published, in two Volumes, 8vo.

PAYNELL

OR,

THE DISAPPOINTED MAN,

A NOVEL,

By MILES STAPLETON, Esq.

Critical Potices. “ The writing is clever, and the thoughts nicely developed. The story we know to be true ; and under the feigned names of Harland, Paynell, and so forth, some will recognise old acquaintances. The charm is in the writing, and that is no small charm. Mr. Stapleton deserves to be congratulated.”—Fraser's Magasine.

“ The incidents are worked out with great power, and the story conveys most impressive moral lessons in very eloquent language. The work is powerfully written. It deserves, and we doubt not will enjoy, extensive circulation."-Dispatch.

“ It is curious enough, that if this publication had appeared anonymously, and not contemporaneously, with Mrs. Shelley's Falkner, we should have confidently concluded that it was of the lineage of Caleb Williams. It is of the Godwin school, and has much of its most effective power. Paynell is an impressive tragedy. The author evinces considerable depth of observation.”—Eraminer.

" These volumes are evidently the production of a chivalrous yet ill requited spirit; it is impossible not to recognise the many traces of genius with which they abound. The author delineates and lays bare the workings of the human heart with a master hand—bis touches are deeply wrought, and well sustained. The penetrating sagacity, the pathos, the tenderness of idea yet ever and anon roused into action by à happy union of daring, together with a vivid eloquence of language, invests these volumes with novelty of colouring which must come home to every heart. There is a moral also to be adduced from these pages, which we doubt not will be productive of the best results." --Leeds Mercury.

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