London, thy streets abound with incident.— Dashing along, here roll the vehicles, Splendid, and drawn by highly pamper'd steeds, Of rank and wealth; and intermix'd with these, The hackney chariot, urg'd to sober pace Its jaded horses; while the long-drawn train Of waggons, carts, and drays, pond'rous and slow, Complete the dissonance, stunning the ear Like pealing thunder, harsh and continuous, While on either side the busy multitude Pass on, various and infinite.— A double rat-tat, quickly doubled again, » Announced an intruder of Consequence vain, Decorum inclin'd to defy all;— Again went the knocker, yet louder and faster, John ran to the door, and one ask'd for his master, Resolv'd against taking denial.— “My good fellow,” said the stranger, “will you be after representing my obeisance and all that, to the Honorable Mr. Dashall, and I beg to know whether he is at home?” “Your name, sir?” “Augh, what does it signify?—Tell him an old friend with a new face,—arrah, not so,—tell him, that a new friend with no face at all at all, would be glad to wait upon him.—Sir Felix O'Grady, the Munster baronet, d'ye mind me?” This was an unexpected visit, and the more kindly received by Dashall and Tallyho, who promised themselves considerable amusement in the acquisition of the baronet's society, which was readily conceded for the day, to their request. When the repast was finished, the triumvirate set out on their pedestrian excursion; interrupted however, in their progress, by a temporary shower, they took refuge in a Coffee-house, where Sir Felix taking up a Newspaper, read from amongst the numerous advertisements, the following selected article of information,—“Convenient accommodations for ladies who are desirous of privately lying in, and their infants carefully put out to nurse.” “Well now, after all,” observed the baronet, “this same London is a very convanient place, where a lady may gratify her pleasurable propensities, and at same time preserve an unblemished reputation. It is only going into the country, sure, for the benefit of her health; that is to say, she retires to one of the villages in the neighbourhood of London, pays her way without name given or questions asked, and in a few months, returns to Town improved in health, but more slender in person, all her acquaintance exclaiming, “La! my dear, how vastly thin you have grown!”— “There are in London and its neighbourhood,” said Dashall, “numerous such convenient asylums; but I cannot acquiesce in their utility.—I am rather of opinion that they have a demoralizing tendency, as accelerating by concealment, the progress of licentiousness.—Human failings will still predominate, and the indulgence of illicit intercourse is less frequently prevented by an innate principle of virtue than the dread of shame. When facility of concealment is therefore given to the result, these connexions will still become more prevalent.” “By the Powers,” exclaimed Sir Felix, “but I think Morality ought to feel particularly benefited by these convanient asylums; they preserve reputation, and in some instances have prevented suicide and murder. I know of two cases wherein both crimes were perpetrated through a sense of shame and dread of discovery, which probably would not have happened could the unfortunates have resorted to “convanient accommodations.”—Well, here's good luck to the fair sex, the dear cratures! and may they, every one of them, die on a Christmas day, any how!”{1} “My rason is,” said he, “that the gates of heaven being open all that day long, a body may slip in unknownst, as it is to be hoped that you, Mr. Dashall, and I may do, some day shortly without any interruption at all, at all.” This ludicrous finis excited the laughter of the company— “But lo! the clouds break off, and sideways run, Out from his shelter lively looks the sun:” and the united observers of Real Life hailing the favorable presage, resumed their perambulation.— Advancing along Piccadilly towards Hyde Park, they reached the splendid mansion of the hero of Waterloo; the gates were open, and a travelling carriage with four horses was in waiting for his Grace, who was then about setting off to inspect the fortifications of the Netherlands.{2} Neither Sir Felix nor Tallyho having ever seen the Duke, the triumvirate paused at the entrance of the Court-yard, until the carriage came forth, when they saluted the gallant warrior with the tribute of respect due to distinguished services and exalted genius, which his Grace very courteously returned. 1 On the subject of “convenient accommodation for ladies who wish privately to ly in,” if we might hazard an opinion, it would be in coincidence with that of our friend Dashall. These establishments' are certainly an encouragement to licentiousness, and it is well known, that in many of these receptacles, “where the strictest honor and secrecy may be relied on,” the allurement of abortion is held out to the unhappy female, if she declines the anticipation of maternal solicitude. 2 Thirty-Two Great Personages! Anecdote of the Duke of Wellington,—His Grace, the Duke of Wellington, when last in the Netherlands, and travelling without attendants, in a part of the country where his multitudinous titles were not well understood, was overtaken on the road by a veteran officer, whose route lay in the same direction with that of his Grace. The Duke having occasion to stop; and as the officer would reach a certain town several hours before him, he requested that the veteran would take the trouble of ordering dinner for him, at the principal Inn. The old officer made his congee, and pro-ceeded on his mission. “I am desired to order dinner here,” said he, to the landlord; “but stay, I had better state who for.” Then calling for pen and ink, he presented the astonished and delighted host with the following list of his forthcoming illustrious guests. The Prince of Waterloo! The Duke of Wellington.—The Duke of Ciudad Rodrigo, and The Duke of Vittoria. The Marquis of Douro, and a Marshal General of France. Master General of the Ordnance. Colonel of the Royal Regt. of Horse Guards, Blue. Colonel of the Rifle Brigade. The Lord Lieutenant of Hampshire.—And The Governor of Plymouth. Field Marshal of Austria, ——————————Russia, ——————————Prussia, ——————————France, ——————————England, and ——————————The Netherlands. A Grandee of the Highest Class. A Captain General of Spain. Knights of the Orders of The Garter, in England.—St. Andrew, in Russia.—The Black Eagle, in Russia.—Charles III. in Spain.—St. Ferdinand and Merit, in Spain.—The Golden Fleece, in Spain.—Maximilian Joseph, in Bavaria.—St. Maria Theresa, in Austria.—The Sword, in Spain.—St. Esprit, in France.—St. George, in Russia.—The Tower and Sword, in Portugal. And, (to bring up the rear,) A Doctor of Civil Laws! “Mon Dieu!” exclaimed the host, in extacy, “what a noble company!” He then began to tell them over;—“One Prince,” he continued,—“Three Dukes—One Marquis—A Marshal General of France—An English Governor—An English Lord Lieutenant— The Master General of the Ordnance, and Two English Colonels—Six Field Marshals—One Grandee of the Highest Class—A Captain General of Spain—Twelve Knights, and a Doctor of Civil Laws!.'—Mon Dieu! Thirty-two Great Personages!!” All the provisions of the town, all the delicacies of the season and all the celebrated wines, were immediately put in requisition for the illustrious company in expectancy. At last the Duke of Wellington arrived, and was ushered into a spacious dining-room, where a cloth was laid with thirty- two covers. The person of the Duke was unknown to the Innkeeper, who, full of important preparations for the Thirty-two Great Personages, thought not of any thing else.—“I ordered dinner here,” said his Grace.—“Mon Dieu!” responded the Innkeeper, “are you one of the Thirty- two Great Personages?” presenting the list at same time. His Grace glanced his eye over it,—“they are all here!” said he, “so send up the dinner immediately.” The Inn-keeper stood aghast with amazement; at last finding utterance, he ventured to express a hope that his Grace would be pleased to take into consideration, that he (the Innkeeper,) had, at great trouble and expence, provided a most sumptuous entertainment for Thirty-two Great Personages. “D——n the Thirty-two Great Personages,” exclaimed the Duke, “Send up the dinner, and your bill.—Thus I must pay the penalty,” said he, “for not having invited the old veteran to be of the party!!” Crossing Hyde Park, which a celebrated physician denominated the lungs of the Metropolis, our pedestrians made their egress into Oxford-road. This fine street, with longitudinal reference the first in London, excited the admiration of the baronet; the long line of perspective indeterminable to the view, stretching from Hyde Park corner to St. Giles's, the general uniformity of the buildings, the neatness, and in many instances the splendor of the tradesmen's shops, together with the comfortable manner of their perambulation, unjostled and unimpeded by the hurry, throng and bustle of passengers, with which Turning into Blenheim street, Dashall apprized his companions, that if they felt inclined to take a peep into the Theatre of Anatomy, he could procure their admission. The Squire seemed to recoil from so disgusting an exhibition; while on the other hand the baronet expressed a great desire to enter the theatre. “I have been used to murder and mutilation!” said he. “The devil you have!” ejaculated the Squire, “where, how?” “Where else should it be but in Ireland?” replied the baronet:—“and as to the how, was it not, sure, after the manner of my profession, while I was a member of a Corps of Yeoman Cavalry, during the rebellion, when we whipped, hanged, beheaded, and mutilated men, every day, by dozens! So you may guess, my good The hesitation manifested by the Squire yielded, ultimately, to the importunity of the baronet, and they entered the human shambles, where the cutters up were at work upon a subject, securing to themselves the advantage of personal experience, in the process of dissection; the abdomen had been already cleared out, and the corpse was portioned out to the different students of anatomy for the purpose of illustration; the arms to one class, the legs to another, the head to a third, &c. so that in less than a quarter of an hour, decapitation and dismemberment were completely effected; and the trunk was deserted, as an uninteresting object, from which there could not be derived any information of importance, further than that which the students had already obtained!!! Sir Felix whispered his friends, that these adepts in human mutilation far exceeded in apathy of feeling and adroitness of execution, even the ci-devant Loyal Troop of Doneraile!—But when one of the young artists brought forward in his hands smeared with gore, a human heart for the operation of the dissecting knife, Tallyho declaring that he could bear it no longer, rushed out of the theatre, and was followed by his two companions, all disgusted with this spoliation of the dead, however conducive it might prove to the interests of the living.{1} 1 The human subjects for these Theatres of Anatomy and private dissection, are chiefly supplied by “Resurrectionists;” a class of depraved wretches whose only employment is that of body-snatching, or robbing the graves of their dead; from which they derive a ready and lucrative emolument. The anatomists are ready at all hours to receive, without questions asked, and with prompt remuneration, the produce of these unsanctified depredations.—Dreadful must be the feelings of the fond relatives of a departed friend, to learn that the sanctuary of the grave has been violated, and the body of perhaps a beloved wife, sister, or other revered female, exposed to the gaze, and subjected to the scalping-knife, of these butchers. Iron Coffins have been resorted to as a safe-guard, which once closed cannot be opened. For this improvement the artist obtained a patent; but he is not likely to derive much advantage from his invention, as the parish officers within the bills of mortality have generally refused the rites of sepulture to bodies cased in iron; alleging, that the almost imperishable material would shortly compel an enlargement of burying ground, at a vast expence, which it is the duty of the parish officers to prevent, by resisting the interment of bodies in iron coffins; and this resolution has lately had the sanction of legal authority. Proceeding along Oxford Street, Sir Felix enquired for the Holy Land, informing his friends, at same time, that his servant, whom he had entrusted the preceding day with a cheque on his banker, had not been at home all night, and the probability was, that he had got amongst his Munster friends in Palestine. Sir Felix was therefore desirous of ascertaining, if possible, the sanctuary of the fugitive; and with that view requested his friends to accompany him in a perambulation of discovery, through (to him) these hitherto unexplored regions.—This application was readily assented to, and the triumvirate passed onwards to the place of destination. They had now reached the Church of St. Giles in the Fields, situated in Broad Street, St. Giles's; and their attention was immediately directed to that fine piece of sculpture over the iron gateway, leading into the Church-yard, representing the Resurrection and Last Judgment. The figures are in basso relievo, and although diminutive, are admirably grouped, and the expression of each gives to the whole a finished and impressive effect. Two minutes more, and the three friends were on the boundaries of the Holy Land, namely, George Street, or, as formerly cognomened, Dyott Street, Bloomsbury. At the end of this street, next to St. Giles's, were several of the Lower Irish, of both gender, who, clustering together, seemed to hold a close confabulation, casting occasionally, an inquisitive eye on Sir Felix O'Grady. “By the soul of the priest!” at last exclaimed one of the Munster emigrees, “but it is him, and I would take my davy on it;—but sure enough, I will ax the jontleman himself now, whether he knows who he is, or if he is any body at all, at all!” This real representative of the tag-rag and bob-tail of the Emerald Isle, was arrayed in the appropriate costume of his class and country. A nameless something that had once been a hat, covered a shock head of hair; the redundancy of which protuberated sideways and perpendicularly, “His galligaskins, that had long withstood The winter's fury and encroaching frost By Time subdued,—what will not Time subdue, Now horrid rents disclosed, portending agues.” His brawny legs were partially cased in worsted hose, the dilapidations of wear and tear ingeniously repaired with cloth, pieced and patched, and comprising all the prismatic colours of the rainbow; his toes, disdaining the trammels of duress, peeped through his brogues, as if anxious for freedom; and to complete the singularity of this strange figure, his vacant face was incrusted with filth, his bristly beard unshorn,— And stuck in his mouth of capacious dimensions, That never to similar shape had pretensions, A pipe he sustain'd, short and jetty of hue, Thro' which the dense clouds of tobacco he drew. This apparition stalking onwards to our admiring triumvirate,—“May be,” said he, “your honor can be after telling me,—will your honor be Sir Felix O'Grady of Munster, that is, long life to it?”—“The same, by the powers of my father who begot me!” exclaimed the baronet: “sure enough I am Sir Felix O'Grady that is, not that will be!” “Erin ma vorneen!” rejoined the enquirer,—“the pot of Saint Patrick be upon you, and may your honor live all the days of your life, and many years longer, if that's all!—Arrah, but I'm plased to my heart's content to meet wid your honor in a strange land!” The congregated expectants now approached, and respectfully united their congratulations with those of their respectable deputy.—“The pot of Saint Patrick be upon you, and may your reverence live for ever and a day afterwards!” It was in vain that Sir Felix offered them money. “No, the devil a drap would they taste, unless it was wid his honor's own self, by the holy poker!” There was no remedy; so Sir Felix, with his friends Dash all and Tallyho, who were much amused by this Page130 Blue Ruin Shop Entering then, the neighbouring den, of a licensed retailer of destruction, the first object on whom the scrutinizing eye of the baronet cast a glance, was his servant, regaling himself and his blowen with a glass of the “right sort.” The indignant Sir Felix raised his cane, and was about to inflict a well-merited chastisement, when the transgressor, deprecating the wrath of his master, produced the full amount of the cheque in mitigation of punishment, expressing his obligations to mother Cummings for the preservation of the property. “And who, in the devil's name,” asked the baronet, “is mother Cummings?"{2} “Och! a good sowl,” said the valet, “for all that, she keeps convanient lodgings. And so your honor, just having got a drap too much of the cratur last night, this girl and I took up our lodgings at mother Cummings's: good luck to her any how! And if your honor will but forgive me this once, I will, as in duty bound, serve you faithfully by night and by day, in any or in no way at all at all, and never will be guilty of the like again as long as I live, gra.” 1 Blue-ruin, alias English Gin.—Not unaptly is this pernicious beverage so denominated. It is lamentable to observe the avidity with which the lower orders of society in London resort to this fiery liquid, destructive alike of health and morals. The consumption of gin in the metropolis is three-fold in proportion to what it was a few years ago. Every public-house is now converted into “Wine Vaults,” as they are termed, which the venders of poison and their account in; it is true, that the occupants are compelled to sell beer also, but in many of these receptacles, there is not even sitting room, and “something short,” is thus the resource of men, women, and even children! 2 This discreet matron has realized a very daccnt competency, by keeping, in the Holy Land, a house of accommodation for single, men and their wives.—When a couple of this description require the asylum of her hospitable roof, she demands possession of all the money which the male visitor may have about him. This conceded, it is told over, and carefully sealed up in the presence of its owner, and left for the night in charge of the prudent landlady. The party is then shewn into a room, and in the morning the money is forth-coming to its utmost farthing. The baronet having adjusted this business to his satisfaction, directed his attention to his newly acquired Munster friends, whom he not only treated with a liberal potation of aqua vitÆ, but in the warmth of his kindly feelings, actually drank with them, a condescension infinitely more acceptable to the generous nature of these poor-people, than was the more solid proof which he left them of his munificence; and of which, until absolutely forced upon them, they long and pertinaciously resisted the acceptance. Our party pursuing their route, entered Holborn, and ordered refreshment at the George and Blue Boar Coffee-House; a place of excellent accommodation, and convenient for persons coming from the West of England. Here, while our perambulators amused themselves in conversation on the occurrences of the morning, a chaise and four drove rapidly into the yard, the postillions decorated with white ribbons, “denoting,” said Dashall, “the successful denouement, perhaps, of a trip to Gretna Green.” His conjecture was correct; the happy pair just arrived, had been rivetted in the ties of matrimony by the far-famed blacksmith of Gretna.{1} 1 In tracing the pursuits of needy and profligate adventurers, with whom this vast metropolis abounds beyond that of any other capital in the world, wife-hunting is not the least predominant. This remark we cannot better illustrate than by introducing to the notice of our readers, the following extraordinary detail, exhibiting in High Life, atrocious premeditated villainy, and in the mediocrity of female rank extreme and fatal cupidity. An anecdote has come to our knowledge within the last few days which we think calls for publicity, as it may tend to place on their guard those tender-hearted spinsters whose sensibility of feeling may induce them for a moment to forget that prudence which is at all times the best safeguard of their sex. The circumstances which we shall describe are considered quite unique among certain orders of the sporting world; and the Hero of the Tale, from the dashing completion of his plan, has obtained no small importance in the eyes of his associates. To our purpose;—About a fortnight back, a person, we will not call him a gentleman, the first letter of whose name is not far re-moved from the last letter of the alphabet, and who has been particularly distinguished for the dashing, although not very meritorious affairs in which he has been engaged, both on the turf and the road, as well as in the stable, found himself (to use one of his own fashionable phrases,) “hard up.” In plain terms, his Exchequer was completely exhausted, and what was worse, his credit was altogether “out at the elbows.” All ordinary, and, indeed, almost all extraordinary modes of “raising the wind,” had long since been worn threadbare. Something, however, must be done; and to be “well done,” it must be “done quickly.” A happy thought struck him. He had heard of a lady, some few years beyond her “teens,” who was possessed of a pretty round sum; he could not ascertain exactly how much, in her own right. This was a prize which he thought it would be most desirable to obtain. It was true, the lady was past that age when passion is not at all times to be con-trolled; but then certainly not so far advanced as to have abandoned all hope of obtaining an agreeable husband, or not to be perfectly convinced that her attractions entitled her to entertain such an expectation. The only difficulty which suggested itself, was the mode of introduction. Two heads are better than one, and our hero called in a friend, to whom he unfolded his scheme, and whose advice and assistance he immediately bespoke. The friend had no scruples on the subject, and at once became a partner in the plot. Means were found to overcome the first impediment, and behold our two gentlemen in the presence of the fair object of their attack. The principal was immediately introduced as the son of Sir George ——, a highly respectable Baronet of the same name, but of a very different character. His manners were chastened for the occasion, his appearance fashionable, and his address distinguished by a warmth which the acknowledged purpose of his visit, that of soliciting the honor of being permitted to pay his addresses, in some measure justified. The lady was not displeased: to all appearance the connexion, which was thus offered to her was most nattering; the son of a baronet, and one especially who had expressed himself in a most disinterested manner, was not to be dismissed without due deliberation; she, therefore, with becoming frankness, consented to grant another interview on the ensuing day. The friends were punctual to the time appointed, and came in the carriage (pro tempore) of the suitor. They were shown into the drawing-room, and the conversation was mutually pleasing. At length our hero proposed to the lady to take a short airing in his carriage. At first she exhibited the usual coyness at such an invitation from one, to whom she was almost a stranger; but was ultimately bantered into a consent, and accordingly dressed for a ride. Having taken her seat between the two gentlemen, they engaged her on such topics as they thought most amusing, and the time passed so agreeably that she scarce knew where she was going, till she had arrived at Barnet, on the north road. They stopped at one of the principal inns, and alighting, a slight cold repast was ordered. The convenient friend shortly after quitted the apartment to look to the horses, and the soi- disant son of the Baronet instantly commenced an assault upon the lady's heart, which it would seem, was but too well received. He protested that he had long sighed at a distance, without having the courage to confess his flame; and, in short, that he could not exist unless she became his. The lady, whatever might be the feelings of her heart, laughed at the warmth of his declarations. This only induced him to become more impetuous; and at last, as a proof of his sincerity, he proposed, as they were so far on the north road, that they should order four horses, and set off at once to Gretna Green. This produced additional merri-ment on the part of the lady, which, as there was no specific refusal, was taken for consent; and on the return of the friend, he received a wink, which instructed him in the course he was to pursue, and in a moment, four horses were clapped to the travelling chariot in which they had arrived. The lady was shortly afterwards handed to her seat, and, accompanied as before, was whirled off with the utmost velocity. She had gone thirty miles of the road, however, before she believed that her lover was really serious. On alighting at the end of the third stage, reflection came to her aid, and she began to repent of having suffered herself to be prevailed on to consent so far to what she still pretended to believe was but a joke. On our hero quitting the coom, she represented to his friend the utter impossibility of proceeding further, and entreated that he would take means to have her re-conducted to town. The friend, however, who was too much interested in the success of a plot so well commenced, endeavoured to dissuade her, by every argument of which he was master, to go on; but she positively refused; when, as the last resource, he determined to work on her fears, and accordingly told her, that Mr.—— had long spoken of her, in terms of impatient rapture; that he was a man, unhappily, of a most passionate temper, and that he had vowed, sooner than he would go back to London without making her his wife, he would blow out his brains, for which purpose he was provided with a brace of pistols, then in his pocket, and double loaded. To this was added the still more persuasive observation, that he was a gentleman of family and fortune and figure, to whom no rational objection could be taken by any woman whose heart had not been previously engaged. The result was, that the unfortunate woman, half consenting, half relenting, agreed to go forward, and on they drove till they arrived full speed at Gretna Bridge, in Yorkshire. Here a new difficulty arose; our hero had exhausted his purse, and had not a shilling left to enable him to complete his journey; his good genius, however, had not deserted him, and, with that effrontery for which he is distinguished, he called the landlord into a private room, told him he was on his way to Gretna Green with an heiress, again described himself to be the son of a baronet, and finally requested him to give cash for a cheque which he proposed drawing on a respectable banking-house in town, (where, by the bye, he happened to have no account.) The cause he assigned for his distress was the suddenness of his flight from town. His appeal proved successful, and he was furnished with the means of completing his journey. Again the trio resumed their course, and in the end reached the quarters of the celebrated Blacksmith, who was immediately summoned to their presence. Here another impediment threw them into fresh alarm; the Blacksmith seeing the style in which they had arrived, and judging from that circumstance that they were persons of no mean consequence, refused to rivet their chains under a douceur of One hundred pounds. This sum it was impossible, at so short a notice, they could raise; and their hopes would have been altogether frustrated, had not the eloquence of our hero once more proved successful. He explained to the venerable priest that their finances were but slender; and having assured him of that fact, he induced him to accept of Five pounds down, and a note of hand for Fifty pounds more. The Gordian knot was then tied, and Mr. and Mrs.—— having received the congratulations of their friend, who witnessed the ceremony, returned to Gretna Bridge; where they agreed to wait a few days, until a remittance for which the lady, under some plausible excuse, was induced to draw, had arrived. The necessary sum at length reached their hands; the bill was dis-charged; the cheque upon which the cash had been previously advanced, redeemed; and the party pursued their journey back to the metropolis. On reaching London, the marriage ceremony was repeated in a more formal manner, and thus all question of the validity of the union was set at rest. Our hero had now to render available the funds of his Lady; and in a morning tete-a- tete requested some information as to the state of her fortune? It was a subject, he said, of no great importance in his estimation, but still he wished to know what she had? The Lady candidly told him that all she had under her own control, was £1,100 in the 5 per Cents, and a bond of her brother's for £2,500 payable on demand. On the very same day, the disinterested husband was found soliciting several brokers in the city, to sell out the stock which his wife had described, but they all declined, unless the lady were present. This was an objection easily got over; he returned to his wife, and having assigned some feasible reason for an immediate want of ready cash, induced her to accompany him to the market, where the value of the stock was soon transferred into his pocket. The friends of the lady had by this time been apprised of her marriage, and naturally felt anxious to ascertain the character of the connexion which she had formed. She, of course, repeated the story told her by her “Lord and Master;” but inquiry having been made as to its truth, it was found to be fictitious in all its main features. Her husband, although of the same name, was not the son of Sir George, nor was he at all connected with that family; and in addition to this, it was ascertained that he was, as we have already described him to be, a gentleman “much better known than trusted.” It is needless to say that the feelings of the lady were greatly agitated at these discoveries, and she did not hesitate to upbraid her husband with his deceitful conduct. His sensibility, however, was not to be excited on such an occasion; he coolly told her he knew all she could say on that subject without putting her to any further trouble; and, in fine, confirmed all that she had heard to his prejudice. She had taken him “for better for worse,” and she must make the best of a bad bargain. The brother of the lady now interfered; he had an interview with her husband, and could not suppress the indignation which he felt in his presence. Our hero had too long been accustomed to the reverses of the sporting world to be easily ruffled; he preserved his temper with admirable presence of mind, and having heard the enraged brother to a conclusion, at last very coolly replied, that “all he had said might be very true, but that did not alter the fact that his sister was his lawful wife; and further, that, as her husband, he held a bond of his (the brother's) for £12,500, payable on demand, and of which he requested immediate payment as he was short of “the ready.” The cold-blooded gravity with which this demand was made, incensed the brother still more, and he gave vent to the feelings which were excited in his breast. Our hero was in no respect thrown off his guard, and at last, after having heard that the brother, as well as the lady, whose eyes were now open to his real character, would be glad to get rid of him on any terms; he proposed to “do the thing,” what he called “handsomely,” and with very little qualification suggested, that in order to settle the business “amicably,” he had no objection to give up his wife and her brother's bond for £1,000 in addition to the £1,000 he had already received. Unprincipled as this offer was, the brother, upon reflection, felt that he was “in the jaws of the lion,” and therefore, after consultation with his sister, who was but too happy in escaping from such a companion, he agreed to the terms proposed. The £1,000 was paid, the bond returned, and a separation mutually agreed upon without further delay, to the infinite satisfaction of our hero, who tells the adventure among his friends with extra-ordinary glee, taking no small credit to himself for its happy issue. We have suppressed the names of the parties, for obvious reasons; there are those by whom they will be immediately recognised. We wish, however, not to give unnecessary pain to the individuals really injured; and have only to hope the facts we have detailed may operate as a sufficient caution to others who may be placed in similar situations in future. Our trio now directed their progress along Holborn, in which route they had advanced but a few minutes when their attention was arrested by a concourse of people assembled at the door of a Linen-draper, who it seems had detected a thief in the person of a pregnant woman. This information excited the sympathy of our three friends, and they accordingly entered the Shop. Tallyho entreated of the Linen-draper, that he would be merciful to the unfortunate woman, in consideration of her being so far in a family way. “And yet, sir,” answered the Shopkeeper, “I fancy we shall be able to relieve the lady without the assistance of a midwife.” The woman was then taken into a back room and searched by two of her own sex. The result |