to slip it quietly into his breeches' pocket, from which, if it ever came out again, it certainly went in a quite different direction from Bullock's hatch.

On other occasions, he would have a postboy in John's livery hired to come into the kirk in the middle of the sermon, and whisper in his ear, loud enough to be heard by the whole congregation. "Gadzooks," he would exclaim, "John wants me, you say, on most confidential business? A pestilent hardship, my friends-but stay-I'll be with him in the twinkling of a walking-stick;" and, darting away, he would spring into the chaise hired for the purpose at the nearest stables, and drive off, like a whirlwind, in the direction of the manorhouse. But no sooner did he come within sight of the Park, than, look ing out of the chaise window, and seeing that nobody was in sight, he would desire the postboy to drive leisurely round for an hour or so in a circumbendibus, and then come back all in a sweat, swearing he had been closeted with John on matters of life and death, till his own life was a burden to him, and that, in fact, but for him, to speak candidly, John's matters would all go to rack and ruin.

To some of the tenantry, again, he distributed tracts, to others quack medicines, of which he had always great store, suited to all ages, tastes, and constitutions. He gave himself out for a regular member of the British College of Health, pretended to give advice gratis, generally recommending mild insensible aperients-" not like your universal mixture and annual pills," he would say,

that turn a man's bowels inside out, but mild alteratives, such as Dolittle's drops, Allsop's anodyne, my own volatile essence, and such like, that create no insurrection in a man's intestines, but leave him to go about his affairs, without loss of time or hinderance of business."

It was observed, however, that much as he abused those drastic purges, he had always a supply ready in an inside pocket, for such as he saw did not like his milder mixtures. Then, in addition to all this, he occasionally surprised them with the strangest feats of ground

and lofty tumbling, dancing to the Scotch-fiddle, balancing straws on his nose, and many other conjuring tricks, which he carried to a pitch of perfection never before heard of; for he was the first man who ever succeeded perfeetly in turning his back upon himself, and eating his own words, which feats he accomplished more than once to the wonder of all beholders. Sometimes, again, with the strangest incontinence of tongue, he would blab all that was going on about the manorhouse-what this servant said, or that servant did-what bills were owing last quarter-what shifts John would now and then be put to to raise the wind!-with much more gossip of the same kind, which thereafter came to John's ears, and gave him no little annoyance. Then, when taxed with what he had said, he would deny downright that he had said so;-and, in a trice again, he would deny that he had denied it-so that no man knew where to have him. One man he would draw into a corner, and, taking him by the button, he would abuse the upper servants as the most pestilent pragmatical noodles that ever handled a trencher; to the next, if he happened to be a twentieth cousin of any of the upper servants, he would run down the under servants at the same rate, as the most self-conceited, shortsighted, blundering blockheads he had ever come in contact with ;— swearing, that he and the upper servants had little else to do but to check their erroneous arithmetic, and lick their house-bills into something like shape for them;-then he would pretend that he thought Arthur a devilish good fellow, and intended one of these days to speak a good word for him to John-who, mayhap, to please him (Buckram) might take him back again as an

assistant.

So many strange vagaries following on one another's heels, made people begin to look a little queer, and to exchange significant nods, and point with a comical expression to their own upper story, as Buckram went by. And now, as the devil would have it, for poor Buckram, he took it into his head about this time to quarrel with his friend Tims the newsman, who had been too long in

his secrets not to have him totally at his mercy, and all about a Penny Magazine, in which, it seemed, he was a Sleeping Partner, and to which he had begun to send all the gossip and scandal of the hall, of which Tims had hitherto had as it were the monopoly. The Lord have mercy on Buckram, say I, for Tims had none. The course of kicking, cuffing, bastinadoeing,and carbinadoeing he now underwent is past conception. Tims scarcely left him the likeness of a beast. Week after week did he continue to pen the most truculent paragraphs against him; now telling all the world how he had devised a plan for feeding John's poor tenants on sawdust, ground bones, and plaster of Paris; how he had sworn that no one was so fit to be a

J. P. as Deepread, and yet made John put another in the commission; how he called another man a lousy loon behind his back, and then flattered him to his face; how he had kicked a poor wench who was with child out of doors, and refused to grant a mittimus against the father, telling her it would be a mere encouragement to bastards; how he had robbed a man of his bill, with the assistance of a Charley, and afterwards had the effrontery to discount it in his own name as drawer, with a thousand such knavish tricks which surprised every body except those that knew him. And now things had come to that pass that scarcely any of the servants could look Buckram in the face without laughing at him.

ALL these rumours of Buckram's strange vagaries reaching John's ears, you may believe gave him no little vexation; and as he had no great liking for his new servants before, they only made him the more resolved to get quit of them as soon as he thought another set could be had. Just at this time, too, as misfortunes never come single, came a string of annoyances one after another, which might have tried a more patient temper than John had to boast of who for that matter had a little of his father and grandfather about him-neither of whom were related to Job.

John had come down one morning to breakfast, and Mrs Bull, in her usual way, had just helped him to his first cup of tea, when John, putting it to his lips, suddenly made a face as if he had swallowed prussic acid, and dashing it down on the teatray, exclaimed, "Gad's my life, what infernal decoction is this? Essence of wormwood? Extract of aloes and coloquintida, eh? In what 'pothecary's shop, pray, did any one pick up this cursed drug? FaughI feel as if I had swallowed poison." "My dear," said Mrs Bull, "don't alarm yourself; 'tis your genuine tea from Messrs Sloe and Copperas

your new tea merchants, whom your stewards have persuaded you to employ of late, and give up old Hyson and Co., who served yourself and your fathers before you. As for the price of it, good or bad, I can only say 'tis charged a swinging round sum in the bill, as you'll find at the year's end."

66 So," " cried John, who still continued making wry faces at the recollection of his last draught, "this is my return for giving the dogs a portion of my custom. Pay their bill, my dear; and let us never see their cursed compounds again. Ah! one gets wiser by experience; and if the matter be to do over again, Hyson and Co. are the men for my money. They charged a good price, to be sure; but then you could rely on a good article-while these rascally slopslippers think no more of poisoning a Christian, than they do of watering their rum, and sanding their brown sugar."

But if things at breakfast were bad this day, at dinner 'twas worse. John, who, like every Squire Bull before him, liked a good glass of port wine after dinner, had ordered a bottle of his best on this occasion; but no sooner had he swallowed his first glass to the king's

health as usual, than he rolled his eyes in his head as if strangled, clapped his hands on his stomach, aud setting down the glass, squirted the contents out of his mouth with infinite appearance of disgust. "O Lord," he exclaimed, " my poor bowels! Call ye this port wine! 'Tis a mixture of rhubarb and devil's dung at the least, I'll be sworn. Harkye, knave," cried he to the butler-old Cupid-whom we mentioned before," did my old friend Michael ship me this damnable drench? If so, there's no faith in man.”

Why, sir," said Cupid, with one of his best bows, "that unlucky quarrel between Michael and Peter, in which, as you know, you lent Peter a hundred pounds to carry on his lawsuit about the old gentleman's succession, has been the ruin of Michael, who has fallen back in the world, and has got no stock left, so of late we have been dealing with Peter's agents, Messrs Sloe and Wormwood-for Sloe is a partner both in the tea and wine trade, and is too much of a gentleman, I am sure, to treat an excellent customer like Squire Bull scurvily. You may depend upon it, the fault is in your own palate-and if you would just allow me to taste it,"-so stepping up to the table, and swallowing a bumper with some difficulty, he set down the glass, assuring John 'twas just as he had expected, and that John must be beginning to lose his taste entirely, if he could complain of such genuine old English port as that. John, however, was not to be persuaded out of his senses this time. "Take it away, said he, and at least let me have a neat glass of schiedam, to put the filthy taste of this potion out of my mouth."

"My dear eir," said Cupid, with some confusion, ever since that occasion when you joined Philip Baboon in clapping up the obstruction before Nick Frog's door, and pelted him with mortar pellets, we have given up dealing with him as much as possible-and truth to say, there is not a drop of gin in the whole house. 'Tis a filthy liquor, my dear master, and Dr Bowstring, you know, prescribes French claret as most agreeable to your constitution."

"French claret be

! but 'tis

useless vexing one's self about what can't be helped. Thank God, a time's coming. There, hand me the Morning Post, and get about your business. So" and John drew his arm-chair to the fire, and pretending to read a paragraph or two, was on the point of dropping into a doze.

Scarcely, however, had he composed himself for a comfortable nap, when a rap came to the hall gate, as if a whole posse of Bow Street officers had been thundering for admittance. 'Twas a letter from the overseer at Plantation farm; and as John had heard little from that quarter lately, he yawned, rubbed his eyes, and began to read.

"HONOURED MASTER,

"I am happy to inform you that every thing goes on at the farm as well as could be wished. [Come, that's some comfort, however, said John.] Quashie works like a Turk, and seems as happy as the day is long, so I have ordered him an additional allowance of salt herrings at your expense. [Poor fellow, said John, I grudge it not; Heaven send only he may continue quiet.] I have no doubt you will find in the end you have got full value for your twenty pounds. I have taken the liberty of drawing upon you for the like sum, being my own allowance. And remain your humble servant,

"JOHN SLY-GO."

"But what's this- Postscript' -Ah! I hate postscripts-they never bode any thing good, but let's see."

"P. S. Since writing the above, I am sorry to say that Quashie, either set on by rum, Obadiah, or the Devil, has struck work; and what's worse, struck one of the quorum a damnable blow with his hoe on the skull, and, hard as it was, he is not expected to recover. Hitherto we have not succeeded in catching him. Pray order out half-a-dozen special constables, for Quashie threatens to burn us all in our beds.

"P. S. News have just come in that your large hay rick is on fire, and that Quashie was seen last night near it with a lighted candle. For God' sake don't forget the constables. In haste, yours to command,

"J. S."

Had you seen poor John's face as he perused this dismal epistle, you'd

have pitied him. The tears stood in his eyes with vexation, when he thought that he had parted with his money only to have his servants knocked on the head by a dog of a black, and his barns burnt about his

ears.

"This comes," thought he, "of meddling with what did not concern me. My poor friends, Muscovado and Molasses, and Bamboo and Mango, I daresay, are murdered or ruined by this time. My turnips, of course, go to the devil. Sugar will rise a shilling a pound -and none but that firebrand, Oba diah, or Quashie himself, are the gainers by it. Gainer, did I say?— why, the damned villain Quashie will drink himself to death, I daresay, in a fortnight-and what becomes then of his wife and his small niggerly family! All thrown on me, I suppose, after the farm's fairly ruined. Ah! John, John! misfortunes never come single. Harkye, you fellows -there's no time to be lost; go some of you and call half-a-dozen constables together- and post as fast as your legs can carry you to Plantation Farm, before Quashie set the sugar manufactory on fire next. But," (turning his eyes towards the window which looked across the court to the servants' rooms,) "what the devil's this? has Quashie got among us here too? As I live by bread, the upper servants' room's on fire! There, don't you smell it? and see where the flames are burst ing out of the window. Oh! Lord, that it should come to this! Run, fly, bring the engine, ye ragamuf fins; would ye see your master burnt before your face?" And John pulled off his wig, threw it in the air, and danced about the room in a fit of desperation.

At last, having come a little to himself, he put his wig again on his head, and sallied down to the court, where such a scene of confusion was going on as never man beheldthe fire blazing, the torches flaring, the engines playing, the spectators roaring, the firemen cursing, the pickpockets filching, the constables cracking the sconces of the crowd. Here was one fellow directing the nozzle of his water-pipe full in his neighbour's face, as if the fire had been in his inside;

there was another throwing out glasses and crockery-ware from a three pair of stairs window for the sake of preservation, while a third, with nothing on but his shirt, was letting himself down by a blanket, and dangling with his legs in the air some dozen feet above the court, afraid to let go his hold. Allsop climbed a ladder, and got into the under servants' room, from which he reappeared speedily, and descended the ladder with much importance, holding something very carefully wrapped up under his cloak. John hurried up to him to thank him, thinking he had brought away his title deeds and securities at least, but to his great mortification, when Allsop displayed his treasure, 'twas merely a cracked chamber vase, filled with waste paper.

"Where's Neddy?" cried John"'twas his business to look after the fire in the servants' room."

"Oh! Neddy went a snipe-shooting this morning, and has'nt yet returned."

"Where's Hob, then?-one of them at least might have been there."

"He has lost his way in some of the woods and forests about," said another.

"Damn the upper servants' room," shouted Allsop" let it blaze, but save the buttery."

"That stingy old codger, John, would not enlarge our room," Hum was overheard to say-" though we were squeezed and stunk to death in it; but now he must give us a decent room to sit in, whether he will or no."

And in truth it seemed as if most of them, if they hadn't a hand in the fire, rather thought the bonfire a good joke, for many were laughing heartily, and swilling porter and flip, instead of lending a hand at the engine or the pump, while poor John's goods and chattels were con suming. At last with much ado the fire was got under, though not until all that side of the mansionhouse, where the servants' rooms were, was fairly burnt to the ground. And though John was ensured to some extent, the loss will certainly be serious. The servants themselves, who had been on the alert,

lost little; indeed nobody made any great complaint except Buckram, who was seen walking up and down disconsolately next day among the ruins, seeking for his best wig, which

had been left hanging on the wall, and which he found at last in a corner dripping wet, and a most deplorable spectacle.

THESE annoyances and misfortunes coming so thick upon one another, made John quite melancholy: he shut himself up in his room, and desiring Sheepface to put the books on the table and leave him to him. self, he began, with a heavy heart, to consider the state of his affairs.

"When I look about me," said John to himself, "I find I have scarce an old friend left in the world with whom these mischiefmaking villains haven't embroiled me. When they came in, 'twas to be all peace and plenty, mirth and good fellowshipbut in a twelvemonth in how many damned lawsuits had they involved me! I must take part against my old friend poor Nick Frog when his back was at the wall, and pay that fellow from the Cobourg's Attorney, because he was too poor to do it himself I must do the same in that confounded unbrotherly strife between Peter and Michael-though Michael's right to the vineyard under his father's will was as clear as my own title to Bullock's hatch; I must lend a hand to oust his next door neighbour, poor Charles, out of Esquire South's lands, because forsooth his brother that's dead and gone forged a deed by which he pretended his father had docked the Entail. I was forced to stand by while my old friend the Turkey merchant was robbed of his best manor: then they tried to stir up strife between Esquire North and me-(I grudge confoundedly, by the by, that L.500 they made me pay him on Frog's bond);-and the only 'squire in the whole neighbourhood with whom I am in speaking terms, is that cunning fox Philip Baboon, who, though as smooth as an eel, hates me, I know, at heart as the devil does holy water, and would willingly see all that belongs to me brought to the hammer-in

hopes of picking up a field or two cheap at the sale."

"Then here," added he, tossing over the leaves of the ledger, "what comes of all their boasted saving and cheese parings? To bill for lawsuit against Frog'-I'm afraid to look at the amount. 'Do. do. Michael;' 'do. do. Charles; Cash paid for Grease,' so much. 'To paid for building your new Justice of Peace Court. To repairs to your Workhouse.' 'To paid additional watchmen to guard Patrick's house.' 'To paid for a new plan of strengthening Patrick's vicarage, by removing the foundations.' To paid Bamboo redemption money of Quashie.'-I'll read no more!" and he flung the ledger to the other side of the room.

Then at home," continued he, "am I not in a perpetual sea of troubles? Scarce a day passing but some riot or murder committed at that confounded farm on the other side the pond, which I wish were at the bottom of it. Offices and hayricks blazing all about me; threatening letters sent to me through the penny-post; my servants all fighting and quarrelling among themselves, or blabbing every thing they hear about the house; more particularly that mountebank attorney, who I hear has been also forging my name to the labels of his quack medicines, and telling every low pot companion, that he will take care to let me know how many pots of ale he had drunk to my health. I can see, however, things are coming fast to a head, for no two of the fellows are of one mind; some of them never meet but foul language passes between them; and though the knaves have hung together as yet, methinks there must be a break up speedily."

One would suppose John, like his sister Peg, must have had the gift of