chovies had'n't come down so fast, and drove you into this here house, ve shou'dn't have had you at all: but I can tell you, Ma'am, for your comfort, the cream is all gone-no milk is to be had; and if you stop here until midnight, you will not get any thing: we are drained quite dry with every thing in the liquor vay.”

The Twankeys found it useless to complain, and bore all their misfortunes with a kind of stoic consolation-that their troubles would soon be over; but, after repeated exertions made by Theophilus at the bar, with persuasions and almost threats, some refreshments were obtained for his almost exhausted mother and sister. The post-boys had attended to their horses, and the Twankeys, being in a little better humour, made another start for London.

The streets of the metropolis were duly gained; the gas-lights seemed to send forth more brilliant rays than ever to the anxious eyes of Mrs. Twankey. The old grocer began to chuckle to himself, that like his predecessor, Johnny Gilpin, he had gone farther than he intended, but got safe home at last. The horses, like hack horses in general, upon feeling the stones under their feet, trotted along merrily without the whip; even the post-boys were glad their tiresome journey was at an end. Miss Penelope Twankey, quite disappointed, fatigued, and out of temper, that neither her 'dear self' nor her great fortune had made any conquest; and Theophilus, the best informed of the family of the Twankeys, equally disgusted that the day had turned out a bore instead of a record of pleasure. The name of Twankey, on the shining brass-plate, was never viewed before with half such pleasure by the family. The knocker's rattling peal occasioned the door to open in a twinkling, and the family were at length seated by their own fire-side. The joy of Mrs. Twankey was so great, that she could not disguise it, and began humming the wellknown air:

'Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam, Still be it ever so humble, there's no PLACE like

HOME.

It is true, that Mrs. T. did not sing the above pathetic ballad exactly after the penetrating strains of Miss M. Tree, neither did it resemble the harmonious notes of Mrs. Waylett; but, nevertheless, it came from the heart. "Thank God," said she, upon seating herself in her elbow chair, "I am once more at home: the watch and reticule we shall have again, I hope, through Mr. Smithers; if not, I am at home and no matter; if ever they catch me again at the races, why then my friends shall tell me my name is not Twankey, and I am not satisfied with my home."

66

"Yes, my dear," echoed Mr. T., and I will allow those blackguard little boys again to insult me with the prevailing, foolish, unmeaning phrase of What a shocking bad hat

more.

you have got! if ever they lay hold of me No more races for me. No more thimbles for me; I shall hate the sight of a thimble till the last hour of my life."

"La! Pa," exclaimed Miss Penelope, do not be so angry about the loss of a sovereign." "Well, I wont; I'll bear in mind with cheerfulness," said old Twankey, “one of my copies which I used to write when I was a school-boy-'all's well that end's well !'”— Metropolitan Mag.

CANINE INGRATITUDE.

The dog, of all the animals in the creation, has ever been regarded as the peculiar friend and companion of man. Among the most conspicuous of those qualities which bind him to his master, and render him amiable to mankind, is that of gratitude; gratitude, which no ill usage can shake, nor neglect can destrov. But anomalies are no less frequent in animals than in man; the latter have their moral deviations, and the former their instinctive contradictions. As a striking proof of the justness of these deductions, we will present to our readers the following accredited fact.

A butcher of Mitcham in Surrey, had reared a mastiff-dog from a puppy, and was so attached to him, that he was his constant company wherever he went. One day this mastiff had been eating very plentifully of some horse-flesh which his master had purchased for him, and having lost some part of it, the butcher attempted to take hold of it, in order to lay it by the dog instantly seized his arm, and tore the flesh in a most dreadful manner; not content with this, the furious animal flew up at his master's throat, where he fastened himself, and was not loosened from his hold, till some neighbours tied a rope round his neck in order to strangle him. The moment the dog felt the cord, he let go; and such was the extraordinary attachment of the butcher to this favorite mastiff, that although his life was in imminent danger, he would not suffer the animal to be destroyed. It is generally supposed that eating such a quantity of raw horse-flesh occasioned the ferocity of the animal; for, till this circumstance happened, he had always been remarkably docile.

ADVANTAGES ARISING FROM HAVING
DUMMY FOR YOUR PARTNER, AT WHIST.
If I sit down with some, I am check'd and abus'd,
Into ridicule turn'd, and, indeed, so ill us'd-
But when for my Partner grave Dummy I take,
He ever looks kind should I make a mistake;
If I play a wrong card, takes the will for the deed,
Nor says ought if I fail in returning his lead;
Should I trump his best card, or forget what is out
(A very great error in playing, no doubt),
Yet he never reproves me as others would do-
Nor says, "I ne'er saw such a player as you;
"Why the Ace Sir, was out-what a sad stupid thing,
"You should, certainly, Partner, have put on your
King."

And then, should we win, and the losers pay toll,
Dum quiet remains, though I pocket the whole;
But let me observe (by the way rather loth),
Should Dum and I lose-I must pay stakes for BOTH.

Then let us be merry,

While drinking our Sherry,

For friendship and harmony can't last too long: Be still our endeavour

That nothing shall sever

a

The Lads of the Fancy, at the CASTLE so strong. THE Castle Tavern was first opened as Sporting House, about two and twenty years ago, by the well-known Bob Gregson; but designated, at that period, under the familiar title of BOB'S CHOP HOUSE:

His house is known to all the milling train; He gives them liquor, and relieves their pain. The Castle Tavern was also viewed as a sort offinger post' by his countrymen, as the Lancashire House; and considered by them a most elegible situation to give their Champion a call, on their visits to the Metropolis. It is rather singular to relate that Bob Gregson rose in the estimation of the Sporting World,

from defeat: he fought only three battles in the P. R., and lost them all. Indeed, Bob's character as a boxer reminds us of the anecdote, or rather the pun, mentioned in the House of Commons, by the late right honorable Charles James Fox, who observed of the fighting Austrian, General Clairfayt, who had been for several years engaged in one and twenty battles in the cause of his country, that the General might be compared to a drum; for he was never heard of but when he was beaten! Just so with Gregson: however, the Castle Tavern, as a Sporting House, got rapidly into note, soon after Bob showed himself as the landlord of it. The appearance of Gregson was prepossessing-he was in height six feet one inch and a half, weighing about fifteen stone six pounds: and in the course of a long day's walk in the Metropolis, or during the continuance of a week in London, a finer,

F

or better proportioned, athletic man could not be met with, than the host of the Castle Tavern. He was considered by the celebrated professor of anatomy, at the Royal Academy, Mr. Carlyle, a most excellent subject to descant upon; and he publicly declared that from his neck down to his waist, he never saw any man who possessed so much anatomical beauty as the late Bob Gregson. He was likewise selected by the late SirThomas Lawrence, Mr. Daw, &c., as a fine subject for their pencils to portray the beauty of human proportion. Bob possessed a constitution truly robust, with a vivacious eye, calculated to dazzle every spectator with its importance; and an arm that was

Active and strong, and vigorous to all its purposes.

Possessing good intellectual faculties, his general deportment was above all absurd affectation; nothing supercilious was to be found in his manner; and ambition was totally exempt from his breast; nay, on the contrary,

Far other aims his heart had learn'd to prize-
More bent to raise the VALIANT than to rise.

Gregson, in addition to his other prepossessing requisites, was always well, nay fashionably dressed; and, in the common phrase of the day, he had a good deal to say for himself;' and the right sort of a man, not only to attract company to his house, but to keep them together by his tact and knowledge of society. He was a good-natured fellow, and extremely liberal in his conduct; indeed, without resorting to a pun, at that period he was viewed as a "Great Creature" in the Sporting World. BoB, according to his own account, considered himself a 'tiny bit' of a poet,* and he was very fond of reading the works of our great poets. In consequence of the following song, written by him in honor of Tom Cribb's victory over Molineux, he was unanimously voted, by his brethren of the fist, to the honorable situation of poet-laureate to the Prize Ring; indeed, it was reserved for BOB GREGSON alone, from his union of Pugilism and Poetry, to recount the deeds of the Boxers in heroic verse, like the bards of old, by sounding the praises of their warlike champions.

BRITISH LADS AND BLACK MILLERS. You gentlemen of fortune attend unto my ditty, A few lines I have penn'd upon this great fight, In the centre of England the noble place is pitched on, For the VALOUR OF THIS COUNTRY, or America's delight:

The celebrated bard, TOMMY MOORE, under the assumed signature of "Toм CRIBB'S Memorial to Congress," a little volume replete with wit, slang, knowledge of life, and also inimitable as a rich specimen of the Burlesque style of writing, has not failed to recognize the poetic fervour of the late Bob Gregson :A pause ensued-'till cries of "GREGSON" Brought Boв the Poet on his legs soon(My eyes, how prettily Boв writes!)

Talk of your Camels, Hogs, and Crabs,
And twenty more such Pidcock frights-
BOB's worth a hundred of these dabs,
For a short turn-up at a sonnet,

A round of odes, a pastoral bout,
All Lombard-street to nine-pence on it
Bobby's the boy would clear them out!

The sturdy black doth swear,
The moment he gets there,

The planks the stage is built on, he'll nrke them blaze and smoke:

Then Cribb, with smiling face,

Says, these boards I'll ne'er disgrace; They're relations of mine, they're OLD ENGLISH Oak. Brave MOLINEUX replied, I've never been denied

To fight the foes of Britain on such planks as those: If relationship you claim, by-and-bye you'll know my I'm the swellish milling cove that can drub my foes. Then CRIBB replied with haste,

name:

You slave, I will you baste

As your Master us'd to cane you, 'twill bring things to your mind,

If from bondage you've got clear,

To impose on Britons here, You'd better stopp'd with Christophe, you'll quickly

find.

The garden of freedom is the British land we live in,
And welcomes every slave from his banish'd isle;
Allows them to impose on a nation good and generous
To incumber and pollute our native soil:
But John Bull cries out aloud,
We're neither poor nor proud,
But open to all nations, let them come from where they
will.

The British lads that's here,

Quite strangers are to fear: Here's TOM CRIBB, with bumpers round, for he can them mill.

In Mine Host s parlour, or little snuggery behind the bar, considered a sort of Sanctum Sanctorum-a House of Lords to the Fancy, where Commoners never attempted to intrude upon the company, Bob carried on a roaring trade. Heavy whet, or any thing in the shape of it, except at meal-times, was entirely excluded from this " Repository of CHOICE SPIRITS;" and where Champagne of the best quality was tossed off like water; Madeira, Claret, Hock, and other choice wines, handed about with the utmost sang-froid; and Port and Sherry the common drink of the snuggery. It might be invidious, if not improper, to mention the names of some of the visitors who spent an hour or two on different occasions in this little spot, famed for sporting, mirth, harmony, and good fellowship; but let it suffice, and with truth, to observe, that persons of some consequence in the State were to be seen in it, independent of artists, and other men of ability, connected with the gay Metropolis.

The late Jack Emery, so highly distinguished as a comedian on the boards of Covent Garden Theatre, in a number of characters which he made exclusively his own; and a man of immense talent in every point of view, spent many of his leisure hours in the above snuggery. Emery was a great patron of Bob's; and Gregson, in return, was most sincerely attached to the entertaining, liberal-minded comedian. NATURE, enriched by art, had rendered the late Mr. Emery a man not often to be met with in the walks of society as a comic actor he was unrivalled; and, viewed as an amateur artist, some of his paintings, which he exhibited at Somerset House, were greatly admired. In the character of a musician he was considered above par. And though he could not produce

captivating sounds from his fiddle, like a Spagnioletta, yet it was generally admitted he could discourse most 'eloquent music' with it; but, as a comic singer, and a writer of songs for himself, he was at the top of the tree his anecdotes and tales were told with so much richness of colouring and good taste, as to enrapture all his hearers: and, as a general companion, as the song says, " he was the boy for bewitching 'em!" Emery, as it is termed, was strong in the Fancy;' and, if necessary, he could turn his hands to good account; and it was one of those excellent Old English maxims, he used to say, for a man to be capable of standing up in his own defence; indeed, he was very much attached to all kinds of sporting. The above comedian was quite at home in the capacity of President, at a Sporting Dinner; nay, perfect to a letter in the part, without any rehearsal. It was impossible to be dull in his company; every toast was introduced with an appropriate remark; and with the most cheerful compliance he was ever ready to give his song to add to the mirth of the meeting, when called upon by any of the visitors. Those gentlemen who remember the inimitable talents displayed by the late Mr. John Emery, not only when singing, but the rich acting he introduced into his songs at the same time, will, we feel quite assured, acquit us of any intention of colouring his portrait too highly. In the following song he was irresistible-the various passions in his face which depicted the pretended love of the lass for the sailor, and her ingratitude, and contempt for him at his departure, together with the noble characteristic of the Jack Tar, was viewed as a master-piece in the style of comic singing.—

THE SAILOR'S WILL AND HIS POWER.
Early one morning, a jolly brisk tar,
Signal being made for sailing,

Nimbly stepped down and told his dear,
Who was of her loss bewailing:

"Orders are come ship to unmoor,
Boats alongside lay waiting;

Come, come, my dear Molly, for you must ashore,
For this is no time for prating."

Moll, with her arms around his neck,
Looked as if life had left her;

To hear such words come from her dear Jack,
Quite of all speech bereft her.

He saw her face began to look wan,

He smiled at the silly young creature, Till. from her heart, the blood began

To brighten up every feature.

"Molly, my dear, now since I must go, Why such recoils at parting?

For you may be happy, you very well know, 'Long with other men's wives concarting

"No, no, no; it's no such thing,

I never shall cease from crying,

For I may, perhaps, rejoice and sing

While you on the deck lay dying."

Now, afar off, with watery eye,

She beheld the ship a-sailing;.
Eager she looks, and thus she cries,
For the loss of her true love bewailing,
"There he goes! that's a good job,
He's been going this quarter of an bou;
Oh! that the bullets may scuttle his nob,
For I've got his will and his power."
Now, as along the beach she strayed,
Quite forgot was poor Johnny;
Eagerly, instantly, off she sped
Into the arms of her Tommy.

Close in her arms she did him embrace,
She called him her joy and her honey,
"How could you think that I loved that there man?
'Twas only to finger his money."

Bob one evening complained to his friend, Emery, in the snuggery, that some vain pretender to poetry had abused the verses of Gregson; when the Comedian, laughing, took out his pencil, and wrote the following couplet:

Never mind 'em, Bob-in turn, tip them bruises!
I'll bet the odds you could floor ALL the Muses!

Mr. Emery was so great a favorite with the Sporting World in general, that he was voted to present the silver cup, of the value of Eighty Guineas, to the champion, Tom Cribb, at the Castle Tavern, on December 2, 1811, after a sporting dinner, in honor of his victory a second time over the sable hero, Molineaux. The following speech was made by Mr. Emery upon that occasion:

"Thomas Cribb-I have the honor this day of being the representative of a numerous and most respectable body of your friends, and though I am by no means qualified to attempt the undertaking which has devolved on me, by a vote of the subscribers, yet the cause will, I am confident, prove a sufficient excuse for my want of ability. You are requested to accept this cup, as a tribute of respect for the uniform valour and integrity you have shown in your several combats; but most particularly for the additional proofs of native skill and manly intrepidity displayed by you in your last memorable battle, when the cause rested not merely upon individual fame, but for the pugilistic reputation of your native country, in contending with a formidable foreign antagonist. In that combat, you gave proofs that the innovating hand of a foreigner, when lifted against a son of Britannia, must not only be aided by the strength of a lion, but the heart also.

"The fame you have so well earned ha been by manly and upright conduct, and such conduct, I have no doubt, will ever mark your very creditable retirement from the ring, or stage of pugilism. However intoxicated the cup, or its contents, may at any future period make you, I am sufficiently persuaded the gentlemen present, and the sons of John Bull in general, will never consider you have a cup too much."

It has been remarked, by an old friend and admirer of the late Mr. Emery, that in

Each part he shone in, but excell'd in none,
So well as husband, father, friend, and son,
His heart was warm, and aid was ever granted
Whene'er it whispered him, "there, York, you're
wanted ?"

Great is the public loss, but, while the tear
Of memory bedews the actor's bier,
Think on the man whom private worth endears-
Think on the anguish of a widow's tears."

The poet well may assert, "Great is the publie loss." He was the Morland of the stage; and NATURE might exclaim, "This is my son, indeed!" His portraits were, all of them, masterpieces in the art of acting. The fine tragic powers he displayed in Tyke, not only astonished the late JOHN KEMBLE; but that truly great performer publicly declared to his friends he could not find words of sufficiently strong import to convey his praise and admiration of the acting of MR. EMERY, in the School of Reform. In Giles he was equally eminent; Dandie Dinmont all that could be wished by the most fastidious critic of the age; and his Farmer Ashfield positively without a fault. Most persons expressed their astonishment that so highly-gifted an actor should have died poor-the tale, however, is soon told he was too generous in disposition to every person who applied to him for relief, but, to his family, his kindness knew no bounds; his aged father and mother were entirely supported by his talents; he had several children to provide for and to educate. He was the admiration of all those individuals who saw him on the stage, and beloved as an honest man and a sincere friend by every body off of it. He was clever in every thing he undertook-either in music, poetry, or paint

ing. The loss of such a man must be felt for many years, without any disparagement to the men of talent who attempt to supply his place on the stage.

The late Mr. George Kent was also a striking feature in this little snuggery, towards keeping the game alive: he was of a gay disposition, fond of life in every shape, and, when perfectly sober, was one of the most peace. able fellows in the kingdom, and an excellent companion; but, when he got a little liquor into his noddle, a word and a blow were too often the leading features of his character. A good milling was quite familiar to his feelings; a black eye a common occurrence; carried home by the Charleys, out of all calculation; and locked up in the scout-ken so repeatedly, that his person and name were as well known to the keepers, as Sunday, in the Almanack; and his eventful history of sprees and midnight rambles, would positively have filled a volume. Punished in his person, and compelled to pay in his purse, ever and anon, towards "making it up" for his night's adventures, yet nothing could cure him of his penchant for milling; and George was pronounced incorrigible by all his acquaintances and friends. He was a complete man of the world: Kent possessed courage of the highest order; and, with a frame as hard as iron, his person seemed almost insensible to the attacks of common opponents. George was likewise an adept in the fistic art, a great lover of the science, a sort of oracle amongst the milling coves, and a sparrer above me

diocrity. In the metropolis, his fame for a spree was perfectly established at the Police Offices; and he very often proved himself a troublesome customer at the theatres. His foibles out of the question, the late George Kent was far from an ill-natured man, and often expressed his sorrow for what had occurred on the preceding evening when he had given any offence; he said it was not his fault, and the disturbance he created ought to be attributed to the right cause-too intimate an acquaintance with the Lushington family. He commenced three or four sporting publications, connected with the boxers, but he never completed any one of them. His slang was well applied in his pugilistic articles-extremely witty and full of point. Several of the most learned writers of the age have stepped aside from their studies to peruse the milling articles of Kent with pleasure and amusement. At one period of his life he was a sort of oracle to Bob Gregson; in fact, he was such an attractive feature at the Castle Tavern, that the word and opinions of Mr. Kent were, in the eyes of the Lancashire hero, completely orthodox.

The late Captain D, connected with one of the most noble families in the kingdom, and denominated one of the highest fanciers in the Sporting World, in consequence of being six feet four inches and-a-half in height, was likewise a great frequenter of the "Repository of CHOICE SPIRITS." The Captain was a remarkably well-proportioned man; a finished scholar; a great musician; a man of sense and talent; a strong supporter of the Fancy-a real gentleman, and a most delightful companion. He was also a man of prodigious strength; and few of the boxers could stand before him with only the 'glores' on; his blows were so powerful. One anecdote of the Captain is worthy of recital: during the run of Bartholomew Fair, just after he had left Harry Harmer's in the evening, where he had been with a few friends, taking a glass or two of wine, he was accosted in his walk through the fair by two dandies, who had a very dashing lady between them-" My eyes," observed the biggest of the two, "only look here-the Giant is out for an airing?" The Captain made no reply, but, with the utmost sang froid, caught hold of him by the collar of his coat, and held him up in the air, with as much ease as he would have held a red herring, where he kept him dangling for a short period, to the no small laughter and shouts of the crowd. The lady interfered, and begged for mercy; and the other dandy also offered to make any atonement in his power for the improper conduct of his friend.

"Well,"

said the Captain, "let the gentleman get down if he can.' "That is totally impossible," answered the lady," who appeared to be a woman of mind; "but, my dear Sir, I am sure you are a gentleman, and I only beg to call to your recollection, that it is

Excellent to possess a giant's strength;
But it is tyrannous to use it like a giant-