coachmen?-Cast, I say, in pity cast your eye into the nursery, and witness the torments which kittens suffer when exposed to the handling of some half-dozen of children of all sizes. Listen to its almost inarticulate growl-its indignant Phit! Phit! (how should this note of feline exclamation be spelt?)-behold its little paw raised to chastise the rude and insulting hand which threatens to annihilate it. Witness this but once, and, if you have the feelings of a man, you will step between us and our tormentors. But to proceed with my narrative :Before I had yet seen the light, I found myself deprived of the society of a brother and sister, who were, I was afterwards informed, ruthlessly consigned to the horse pond, ere they were a week old. Our family were now reduced to threenamely, my mother, myself, and an only brother, who, to do him justice, was a cat of great beauty. I am fully aware how estimable modesty is, or I should be tempted to say a word or two here, touching my own personal appearance; but let it pass. I grew surprisingly, and in less than a month afforded great amuse ment to my master's family, by performing those ludicrous tricks which often set the gravest faces on the grin. But there was one alloy to our pleasures, namely, the occasional visitations of those fits to which our race are subjected, and which the nurses say are owing to our cutting our teeth. I remember that while once struggling under one of these tremendous visitations, a young urchin, about sixteen years of age, took out his knife and slit one of my ears. The remedy was effectual, but what a horrid scar it left behind! to say nothing of the pain. But the smart of a wound is felt no longer than while it lasts, and I soon forgot this mutilation. Our master's family, at this time, consisted of himself, his wife, and seven children; the eldest about eighteen, a fair and beautiful girl, who had never been ten miles from home in her life. She was as artless as a child, and yet well-skilled in those accomplishments which render her sex still more endearing. It occasioned therefore, no small bustle in her family, when she took leave of them on the day she set off by the stage to London to visit some wealthy relations, who had given her many pressing invitations. I should not mention this circumstance, did it not touch upon my history so closely. Ere she departed, she determined upon taking me with her, for I must no longer hesi tate to inform you that I had become a most beautiful animal; accordingly, I was thrust into a large work-basket, and securely tied down. This was not the most comfortable situation, to be sure, but then I could perceive that my fair mistress did not trust me out of her hands, and that she took care to see there were plenty of breathing holes in my temporary prison. Through these apertures, which afforded me air, I could distinguish what was going on on the top of the coach, and ere long, I beheld a smart, but rather rakish looking young fellow mount upon it, and seat himself by the side of my mistress. He seemed struck with her beauty, and after some common-place remarks upon the weather, found means to engage her in conversation, by which he became acquainted with her reasons for visiting London. The designing villain-my back rises, and my tail swells with indig nation when I think on his perfidy. I will not tire thy ear, patient reader, by detailing all that passed between them. I will not recount all the oaths and protestations which this depraved scoundrel had ready to effect his purpose; it will be sufficient to inform you, that upon the arrival of the coach in London, my mistress, instead of proceeding at once to the house of her friends, remained at the inn all night, at the earnest persuasion of her companion, who promised to call upon her the next day, for he had but commenced his work of mischief, and feared to make his infamous proposals too soon, lest he should have mistaken her feelings towards him. But I cannot dwell upon this subject without pain to myself, and I shall therefore inform you that in a few days my mistress and her seducer were living in handsome lodgings in the neighbourhood of one of the squares on the north side of Holborn. Here I was restored to liberty and ease, and I gambolled and played with my tail as I was wont, to the evident delight of iny mistress, though methought that I sometimes reminded her of the happy home she had left, for I have often heard her, when alone, sob bitterly. She had soon another cause for grief, for her betrayer became careless, stayed out late at night, and came home frequently in a state of beastly intoxication. Satiated with the charms of his victim, he now began to complain of the expense he had incurred by keeping her. These remarks were resented by the high-minded girl, and mutual quarrels took place, which ended in her seducer's leaving her one day, never to return. Then it was, that the accommodating lady of the house, who had hitherto pretended to believe them (according to their representations,) man and wife, on a sudden discovered that they were not united by the indissoluble bond, and her demands for what was due to her became pressing. The wretched girl, abandoned by all, not daring to apply to her friends, and yet clinging to the vain hope that her seducer would return, made what excuses she could to her landlady, who, however, was inexorable, and threatened her with the Fleet Prison if her demand were not paid on the morrow. My mistress heard the threat; a smile (but it was the smile of despair) played upon her hectic cheek, and she retired to her room; there, throwing herself on a couch, she wept as though her heart would break. She arose after a while, and quitted the house for a short time. When she returned, I observed a wildness in her looks which made me dread some horrible catastrophe. She retired to her chamber, and throwing herself on the bed, drew the curtains around her, and appeared to have fallen into a sound slumber. I crept softly into the room, and leaping cautiously on a chair, endeavoured to get a glimpse of my miserable mistress; but at that moment some wild and incoherent expressions which escaped her in her sleep frightened me away, and I retired to the further end of the room, where I soon fell asleep. I was awakened in the morning by a tap at the door, then another, and another; at last it opened, and the landlady entered. "Hey dey, Miss !" cried she, at the highest pitch of her voice-" a pretty hour for young ladies like you to be abed, when you should be looking for the means to pay your creditors: here is Miss - the milliner below; she says she can wait no longer for her money.What! no answer ?-then I must rouse you." And as she uttered this, the unfeeling woman entered the bed-room, and drawing aside the curtains renewed her discordant cries. Oh, how I wished that nature had given me a human tongue, that I might have assailed this she dragon with her own weapons; as it was, I leapt upon the bed, as if to interpose between her and my mistress-but, oh horror! what did I behold!-She lay extended on the scene of her guilt and dishonour, dead, and cold as marble; her dark hair uncurled, but still lovely, served to contrast more strikingly with the pallid hue of her still beautiful face. Her head was turned on one side, and lay heavily on the pillow; and her long and beautifully formed fingers still held in their deathgrasp an empty phial! Pardon me if I hasten from this scene, which, even at this time, sends a pang to my heart. I must pass over all that happened from this moment, until the time that she was consigned to "that bourne from whence no traveller returns.' "" Her suicide became known-her friends read the heart-rending account in the daily papers, and hastening to London, bore her remains back to her native village. In the midst of their horror they did not observe me, and I was left in the house of the woman who had behaved so unfeelingly to my departed mistress. She admired my beauty, and seemed to be very proud of me; but how could I return her kindness after what I had seen of her conduct towards her own sex? I could not remain with her; no, her presence was hateful to me. I took the first opportunity to fly from the house. This I accomplished one morning, and having ascended into the street from the area, I fled with all speed, determined to enter the first house I came to, if I could find the door open. But, alas! like many truants, I soon saw my error; for, as the Devil would have it, not a door was left a-jar, and in a short time I had half a score of boys at my heels; nevertheless, I ran boldly on, notwithstanding the whistling, the shouting, and the screaming which greeted me from all quarters; but the worst was to come, for while turning the corner of a street, I ran right against a butcher's boy and his dog, when the villain immediately set his brute companion upon me. Picture to yourself, compassionate reader, my agony and affright upon hearing this. There are no wings like those lent by fear: I flew down the street, my pursuer close at my heels. I heard the heavy fall of his huge paws close behind me, while the voice of its master sounded at a distance in melodious accompaniment to the other urchins, who, as well as himself, were delighted with the sport. I had already given myself up for lost, when I espied a railed gate at the door of a carpenter's shop. I instantly sprung up, and clearing it, rushed down the passage through the house, while my enemy, after trying in vain to leap after me, remained on the other side, and vented his rage and disappointment in discordant whinnings. I lay for nearly an hour, quite exhausted. At length I arose, and feeling myself somewhat hungry, I ventured into the house in the hope that its inmates would take compassion on me. I was not deceived, for the family took great notice of me, and were much pleased with my docility and good temper, for I was always admired for these two qualities. The children offered me their bread and butter, while their mother, kind soul! sent the servant to a certain purveyor of food particularly adapted to our palate. I was literally crammed that day. When I recovered from this horrible fright, and bad regained my self-possession, I found that I had entered a small summer house at the bottom of the garden. Here I I remained with this amiable family for several months, and was treated in the kindest manner. It was during my residence here that I met with an adventure which I cannot help relating. had got out one dark night on the roof of the house, in the hope of meeting a beautiful tabby, who lived a few doors off. She was my first love, and I was her's; I need not tell you that the moments flew swiftly, and it was growing very late, when-how shall I describe it ?-we were suddenly drenched with a most unsavory fluid, which nearly washed us from the roof. Some spiteful fellow disturbed by our "sweet converse," had risen from his couch and thus revenged himself upon us for disturbing his slumbers. We both flew from the spot completely saturated with this abominable and nameless liquid. My mortification was most severe, and I could hardly look any one in the face for several days after ;-however, we met again, but you may be sure we did not recur to this "untoward event. But fortune, jealous of my happy state, would not permit me to enjoy this state of felicity long. It happened that I had ventured one day into the house of a neighbour, and walking into the kitchen I espied on the dresser a fine beef steak. The cook's back was turned; the meat was tempting; I could not resist it, so, seizing on the tempting morsel, I was hastening from the spot, when at that moment the cook returned, and gaining the door before I had reached it, she banged it to, and called aloud on a lubberly fellow in the next room to come and seize me.But I was not to be easily caught, for after some scrambling I made for the window, dashed through it, and fled from the spot. But, alas in my affright I took the wrong road home, and before I had recovered from the alarm, I found that I had fled into the street: luckily, however, no boys or dogs were abroad, and I entered a house at the other end of the street. Upon looking round me, I found that this was a butcher's. Being a "fine animal," to use the phrase of a certain turbulent lawyer, I experienced no difficulty in introducing myself to the notice of the family, who treated me with great kindness; but I did not feel at all easy at supper time, when I perceived that two young dogs of apprentices were in the house, and I fancied that they eyed me with a sort of malicious satisfaction, and winked at each other. In the morning my worst fears were realised, for, ere my master was up, one of these savages seized and conveyed me down stairs into the slaughter house. Here, spite of my screams and struggles, they forced my head into a boot, and I cannot describe what I suffered from the horrible mutilation inflicted upon me. My brain is fired at the bare recollection of it. I quitted the house in half an hour after I had been released by my tormentors, and flying from the spot took refuge in the dwelling of one who is, I fear, doomed to live in "single blessedness." Here I am now living, and, save that my life is somewhat monotonous, I have no cause to complain. Such have been my adventures until this period. Should this portion of them be found amusing, the world shall hear of me again! PALMYRA. (For the Olio.) By J. FITZGERALD PENNIE, Author of Rogvald, an Epic Poem; Scenes in Palestine, &c. &c. FAR o'er the desert sands thy proud towers shone, City renown'd of mighty Solomon ! The costliest sweets of Araby were thine, The ruby weepings of the Shiraz vine, The long procession in thy Temple of the Sun ! Ne'er shall be heard again the minstrel's song, walls; Nor trump.note rouse the echoes of thy halls! In gorgeous dance, these mansions of the dead! Nor tinkling feet of royal damsels tread, No more shall bow before the sun's proud shrine, The pilgrim Gaur; nor magic priest the wine On thy pale spectre of departed might, No sound is heard but the wild Jackal's cry, Her moonlight music on the midnight hour- And thy dim piles in thunder-notes reply! And sunk, to rise no more, thy Temple of the Rogvald Cottage, July 1829. THE NOSEGAY WOMAN. For the Olio. Dian's bud o'er Cupid's flower. THE bawling and squalling" pretty bough pot" carriers of 1829 have no charms for me;-their drabby and careworn looks convey no pleasures to a romantic fancy, and the imagination gathers no poetic flowers by the discordance which precedes their approach, with a few flowerets pinched into bunches, as they are called, and cried, like the hunger in spiring water-cresses, twisted by dirty fingers in the same basket by the same slut, who sees no beauty in nature beyond selling her productions as fast as she can, nor values the fabled emblems of Flora beyond the value of the current coin of the realm. I have searched London through to find a relic of the goneby 6.6 nosegay carrier." Out of all the varieties that I have seen, but one has, like an article of rare quality, been preserved to represent an idea of what the flower carrier was, and still ought to be. A young, new, charming and winsome creature, every way like the charming exuberances she circulates, a perfect bouquet in the eye of an admirer, endued with qualities which teach and attractdelight and give a moral of all that is beautiful and fading. The "Flower Woman" of the last century gave occasion for the flights of a Gay, a Pope, a Swift, a Prior, a Rowe, and most of the poets of the salon of the times. The "Nosegay Woman" that is yet in the land of the living, and of whom I write, is not what she was-in her youth, nor do I expect to find her wear over and above" the order of human life. But she is yet a trim, active, compacted being. If she is never without thyme, she contrives by her temperate habits to keep roses on her cheeks, and the star of Bethlehem in her eyes. Whatever be the season, she has always a good stock in her basket, and her peaceful aspect shews that she is never without heart's-ease. Mary Gold is her name, and her box is not without moneywort and thrift. In her stature she is something of the dwarf sunflower; and on Sundays a perfect holyoak-the pink of neatness. To see her, like a parterre, with advantage, it is when she trots off from home fresh in dewy hope and elastic feeling, pinned according to the old school, -shod, buckled and bonneted to the past etiquette taste, with the basket on her mittened arm, and the nosegays, well imagined, contrasted and set so as to show off and obtain purchasers. But the lilies of the valley droop their gems in their broad green leaves exclusively; these are choice, indeed, and hide their white drops beneath the vernalage, as tears shed in bowers of beauty. The thorny sweetbriar supports the tulip and peony, and the crown imperial forms the grandeur of her empire. Sweet William is her husband, and she has some bachelors' buttons and Canterbury bells for their progeny. Her ambition is not higher than Jacob's ladder. Without love lies bleeding," or" love in a mist," she goes to rest No. 26. JOHN REEVE. Certain it is, he will steal himself into man's Favour, and for a week escape a great deal of discoveries. All's Well. "Sylvester Daggerwood" first brought him on The stage of action-" Jerry" next he drew And gave his "Imitations." Then, anon, Into a higher walk, his own and new, He struck the chords of mirth. And, grave withal, The Muse of Comedy and Farce secured By drollery, byplay, song, in joy or brawl, Such as are relish'd and by wits endured. No. 27.-BARTLEY. A comely person with a soldier's face, His forte good nature, learnt from feeling's book: lecturer of the heavens, their stars and ways Made known by truth in contemplations rays. No. 28.-GATTY. He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument. L. L. Lost. A frizzled old Frenchman with a broken tooth; Snuffy, polite, loquacious and inspiring Intrigues. Attendant on a travelling youth From college, information new desiring! A brisk, good stager, useful, shuffling, gay; Sometimes to Laughter's-sometimes Pity's sway. No. 29.-MEADOWS. Come, come, no longer will I be a fool Whilst man and master laugh my woes to scorn. To put the finger in the eye and weep, A thin young man, respected well, C. Errors. |