........ matter!" exclaimed another new comer-a fat, little, jolly personage, whom, in spite of his present demure. ness, I recognised as an old friend of mine. "Throw the purse into the window, Jerry, and your uncle will never suspect you."........" Not if you throw it in empty, I grant you," observed SHAME with a sneer. "But your uncle will smell a rat, depend upon it. People are not so apt to accept but half their luck, when they can have the whole on the same terms,-that would be a wil. ful contempt of Providence: and, besides, who throws money into strange windows?” While SHAME Was making these suggestions, I observed that REPENTANCE gradually separated herself from him, and withdrew to the background. "Psha!" cried CHARITY, strutting in before the rest of the party with all the insolence of triumph. "Take my advice as you did before. Give the money to some one that wants it, and all will be right. I'll cover the sin.". "Take your advice? Take your. self out of the way, you impudent wanton!" cried JUSTICE and CONSCIENCE together, pushing her from before them........" Cover the sin? Go cover your face, you indecent jade!" said SHAME, turning aside. "How dare you propose such villainous measures with so unblushing a front ?". "Mend the flaw in your coat before you presume to give advice!" added REASON, who, attracted by the deficiency in CHARITY's wearing apparel, had stopped to listen; and, a kick being added to expedite her motions, poor CHARITY retired from the company, quite crest-fallen. A figure now came running up, which from its mein I knew to be PLEASURE. "Give the money to me, dear Jerry!" she cried, with a most bewitching smile, "and you shall enjoy my charms;"-and she pressed my fingers closer to the purse. JUSTICE and CONSCIENCE both opposed her claims with all their eloquence; but though I tried to aid them by shutting my eyes against the harlot's fas cination, yet, as my ears were open, and SHAME kept crying in them, "You dare not give it back! you dare not give it back!" the contest would have terminated in her favour,-when, just as JUSTICE and CONSCIENCE were overcome, the shop of a jeweller caught my eye. “Jerry—Jerry—" whispered the little jolly figure, pulling my coat-tails, which he had never quitted during the whole scene; "step in here, and I'll rid you of the whole gang at once :”—and, in fact, by cutting up a few capers he dispersed the whole party, with the exception of PLEASURE, who loitered at a distance, doubtful whether to take him as friend or foe. Rejoiced at heart, I entered the shop, and at the sug gestion of my little friend bought with the purse a goldheaded cane, with my uncle's initials engraved upon it. -There, that will do !—said I, as I thrust out the cane at a right angle from my body-and drew it in again-then rubbed its head with the sleeve of my coat then tossed back my own head with a wink of most decided approbation-and, finally, thrust out the cane again.That will do! my uncle will like the gift-and the giver, and never know that the shot came from his own locker. Ah, Jerry, you're a man of taste!--and keeping my little friend with me, lest the party should return, I ran all the way home to my own room, and there locked up the cane in quarantine till the alarm should blow over. CHAPTER XXI. Org. Un baton! un baton! Ne me retenez pas. Le Tartuffe. He's irremovable, Resolv'd for flight. Winter's Tale. Well, Mr. Vapid, now let's run away. The Dramatist. Jeremy's had not THE last six months at my uncle passed altogether to my satisfaction. quired so much attention, and was so peevish when he did not meet it; and then he would complain so bitterly if I spent my evenings abroad; and when I staid at home to quiet him, would so pester me with his dull stories, which I was forced to applaud, though scarcely able to keep my eyes open-that I actually sickened of my home. My hour of liberation was nearer than I suspected. After I had disposed of my purchase as related in the preceding chapter, I descended to the dining room. The dinner was just ready, and my uncle Jeremy, for the first time in three years, was to grace it with his presence. I was very hungry; and there was nothing on the table but soup, roast beef, and fish. Soup always made me sick, the beef was too rare, and for fish I had all my father's antipathy.-Now it is mere folly to expect one to be good-natured when he is hungry and disappointed of his dinner. Good-nature, like the most of things that appear good, is merely the result of circumstances. Take any amiable person you please, when he has slept too long and his head aches,* or when he is hungry and his dinner does not suit him (You see, I select the most common of occurrences), and, my life on it, all the sweet milk of his disposition is changed to curds,-and they that censure his testiness are as silly as Cassius, who looked to find Cæsar a man in the midst of an ague-fit.-I sat down pouting, and thrust my hands into my breeches' pockets. "Shall I assist you to a little soup, nephew?" squeaked my aunt. 66 Psha, no! I don't like soup," said I. "Hullo, you John! help master Jeremy to some of the beef," cried my uncle-"that's the stuff for boys-heh, nephew?" "Stuff for dogs!" muttered I. My uncle growled. “Or Jerry, shall John help you to some of that delicate fish?" simpered my aunt. "Damn your fish!" said I. "Harkye, nephew!" roared my uncle-"I'll have nobody say damn in my presence but my own self-damn me if I will! You may damn my fish as much as you please; but you must do it in the kitchen." "Damn your fish!" I repeated,--and the next moment my uncle's crutch came into contact with my head. I turned. "Uncle!" I said, scarcely able to speak from passion, "I go from your house this instant!" "Go, and be damned!" answered my uncle, "—and the sooner the better." I left the room. It is a singular fact that I owe the loss of my uncle's protection, as well of my father's, to fish. Pah! I shall never see the nasty things without holding my nose. I ran up stairs to my own room, and when there, gave vent to my wrath by defacing the furniture, cutting up * A person in this state is vulgarly said to have got out of bed wrong end foremost: How much fur. the carpet, and upsetting the chamber. ther I might have gone I know not,-for there is a vast satisfaction in these extravagancies, when we have no other outlet for our passion-, but, luckily for my uncle's purse, I happened to see my uncle's bitch trembling in a "Come corner of the apartment. I locked the door. here, Rose." The poor creature came up wagging her tail. I took a scissors and a razor, and cleared her body of almost every hair upon it-leaving in their natural dress only her ears, legs, and tail. I then furnished her with a coat like Joseph's, by means of a box of water colours, Having thus satisfied my revenge, I tied up my best clothes in a bundle, and sallied from my room. 1 met my aunt in the entry. "Good b'y'e aunt; I am going." "What, Jerry! you are not serious?" “Indeed I am, aunt; I will not stay another night under this roof." "Come, come, nephew! you must not mind your uncle's humours-he is old, you know, and apt to be testy”—and my aunt drew me into her own apartment— "I am sure all will be forgotten in an hour." “I have said it, aunt; I am determined to be no longer subjected to my uncle's caprices.-But pray, aunt, who made that cap?” "Why, nephew? what's the matter with it?" "O, nothing! only it is very becoming. I have never before seen you look so well.” "You have an "Do you think so, Jerry? Well, I think it is handsome myself," and the lady faced a mirror. excellent judgment, nephew.-But stay, dear Jerry, there is no necessity for your going to-night, child: wait at least till the morning." "Not a moment longer, aunt." |