Mr. Gobble was born in Norfolk, at one of those fine old-fashioned farm-houses so frequently met with in that county, and was often heard to tell the tale of his first coming to London, on a bitterly cold day, when the whole country was covered with snow, on the top of the "Telegraph" coach. It was Christmas-Eve, in the year 1815, and the roof was crowded with such piles of turkeys, geese, hares, and pheasants, that he always said he had preserved an affection for them throughout his life.

Some few years after his arrival in London, Mr. Gobble became a member of the Worshipful Company of Poulterers, and shortly afterwards he was elected Common-councilman by a great majority of the voters, who, to show their approbation of his excellence, invited him to a handsome dinner at Poulterers' Hall. In due time, the Common-councilman became an Alderman; and it was at a grand ball given on the occasion, that he fell in love with Miss Owlet, the daughter of a magistrate very celebrated for his wisdom. The wedding was attended by all the great City people; and after this union Mr. Gobble had the satisfaction of becoming the most popular member of the Corporation, and was more frequently than ever seen at the Corporation dinners.

But the Alderman's ambition did not rest satisfied with municipal honours. He read the debates in the House of Commons, until he thought he could speak as well as most of them, and aspired to become a member of Parliament. In this laudable desire, he was greatly abetted by his beloved spouse, who was deeply impressed with the conviction that he would be one of the most eloquent members of the House.

It happened that, about this time, the borough of Woodside became vacant. Mr. Rabbetson, the member, while on a visit to Earl Falcon, the owner of half the village of Woodside, was accidentally killed by his Lordship while they were out together for a day's sport.

The Alderman no sooner heard of the accident than he flew home to his wife, and told her of the opportunity that had offered itself. By the next night's mail, Mr. and Mrs. Gobble travelled down to Woodside, and, on the following day, they hired a carriage and rode over to Lord Falcon's mansion. The servants at the gate said that his Lordship was too ill to see company; but, at the Alderman's pressing entreaty, their cards were taken, and soon afterwards they were ushered into the lofty apartments of Woodside Hall, and through the library into the Earl's private garden. There they found his Lordship walking up and down the terrace, evidently in a most unamiable state of mind. Mrs. Gobble drew back when she saw his fierce looks; and the Alderman, taking off his hat, seemed undecided whether it would not be advisable to beat a retreat before his Lordship ate them both up, for so he seemed inclined to do. At last Mr. Gobble told his errand, and solicited the favour of his Lordship's interest. If Earl Falcon was angry before, he was enraged to madness now; he screamed at his visitors, stamped his feet, and rushed at them, cane in hand, so impetuously, that the intruders flew away with all the haste they could, regained their carriage, and took a post-chaise back to London without delay.

Alderman Gobble returned to town sadder, but wiser; and was never afterwards heard to talk of the honour of being a member of Parliament.

As for the borough of Woodside, Lord Falcon gave to Mr. Weesel, the family lawyer, who, report said, was somehow the cause of the death of poor Mr. Rabbetson.