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Where can he now be loitering! These dark clouds
Already the large drops
Kiss me first.
I had fill'd it half,
Did he eat the strawberries ?
What said he, dearest ?
And what else ?
Calld me dear boy,
Ha! what said'st thou
No. But then I ask'd him
[Exit Maurice. Wil.
I am so sorty
Oh, can it be!
That voice!. O father! father!
I'm your daughter-
Rise, Madam, rise.
Oh, forgive us, Sir,
Madam, I have sought
These harrowing words. I am but lately risen
My wife, compose thyself;
have left the army?
Ye are poor.
[Re-enter Amelia, with a light and a basket.] Mau. [meeting her.] Thou tremblest still. Am.
I could not stay away.
Lord M. No; my dear boy.
Now blessings on his head.
Surely she was not always
I have only known
Not that! not that!
Am. On my knees I offer up
Lord M. I will do more. Give me that boy,
Am. My boy! give up my boy!
Why he must be
A burthen! William !
We earn our bread
And to work for him
Lord M. Why thou may'st have another child, and then
Am. Oh! never one like this—this dearest child
With his first smile.. Then hope and comfort came,
Lord M. Bethink thee for that child, Amelia,
Mother, let me stay,
My darling, yes;
Lord M. Thou need'st not hug him so against thy bosom;
O father ! father!
Did love! Oh never, never,
Lord M. Then after eighteen years of tender care,
Father! this is worse than death.
I did. Alas! I did.
Mau. My lord, this grief will kill her. See, she writhes
Poor heart! I go still desolate ;
Am. [Starting up.] Take him, whilst I have life to bid thee,
Wil. I will not leave you, Mother.
Hush ! hush! hush !
Mau. Dearest and best, be it as thou hast will'd.
Thou givest him then?
Am. I shall die now. My William !
Ha ! 1
We are forgiven!
My own dear child,
ETCHINGS OF DIFFERENT KINDS OF MEN.
THE HUMOROUS MAX.
You shall know the man I speak to proud worms; and palaces to of by the vivacity of his eye, the paupers. “ morn-elastic” tread of his foot, It is enough for him if he may the lightness of his brow, and the laugh the “hours away ;” and break dawning smile of pleasantry in his a jest, where tempers more humora countenance. The muscles of his ous break a head. He would not mouth curl upwards, like a Spa- barter with you one wakeful jest for niard's mustachios, unlike Grief's, a hundred sleepy sermons; or one whose mouth has a “ downward laugh for a thousand sighs. If he drag austere.”. He is a man who could allow himself to sigh about cares' for nothing so much as
any thing, it would be that he had “ mirth-moving jest ;” give him been serious when he might have that, and he has “ food and raiment.” laughed; if he could weep for any He will not see what men have to thing, it would be for mankind, becark and care for, beyond to-day; he cause they will not laugh more and is for To-morrow's providing for him- mourn less. Yet he hath tears for self. He is for a new reading of Ben the pitiable, the afflicted, the orphan, Jonson's old play of “ Every Man in and the unhappy ; but his tears die his Humour, he would have it where they are born,-in his heart, “ Every Man in Humour.” He he makes no show of them; like leaves money and misery, to misers; April showers, they refresh where ambition and blood, to great warriors they fall, and turn to smiles, as all and low highwaymen; fame, to tears will, that are not selfish. His court-laureates and lord-mayors; ho- grief has a humanity in it, which is nours, to court-pandars and city not satisfied with tears only; it knights; the dread of death, to such teaches him as are not worthy of life ; the dread
the disparity of heaven, to those who are not good 'Tween poor and rich, and weal and want, enough even for earth; the grave, to
and moves parish-clerks and undertakers; torils, His hcart to ruth, his hands to charity. .
He loveth no face more than a * What i' the name of all the saints smiling one; a needlessly serious one but Saint Anthony, have you there serveth him for the 'whetting of his 'over against the wall!” cries his first wit,--as cold flints strike out quick visitor. “ Only an instrument of torsparks of fire.
ture, brought from ihe Spanish inHis humour shows itself to all quisition, by a celebrated traveller: things and on all occasions. I found it is used where the rack fails, and him once bowing on the stairs to a it always answers,” was his reply. poor alarmed devil of a rat, who was A second estioned him, and it was cringing up in a corner ; he was po- a surgical instrument, resorted to but Jitely offering him the retreat honour. in extreme cases of stranguary; and able, with an “ After you, Sir, if then he quoted a celebrated opinion you would honour me.' I settled of one Doctor Shylock, something the point of etiquette, by kicking the about a certain affection, felt by rat down stairs, and received a frown musical susceptibles, on hearing a from my humane friend, for my im- bagpipe sing i' the nose." A third patient inhumanity.
questioner was answered, “ It is an His opinions of men and things instrument of war, used by the highhave some spice of singularity in landers, which, played in the rear of them. He conceives it to be a kind their clans, screws them up to such a of puppyism in pigs that they wear desperate determination of getting tails. He defines a great coat to be their lugs out of the hearing of it, “ a Spenser, folio edition, with tail- that, rushing onward, they overturn pieces." He calls Hercules a man- every thing opposed to them,-men, midwife, in a small way of business; horses, walls, towers, and forts." He because he had but twelve labours. professes a great respect for rats, beHe can tell you why Horace ran cause he has been told that if a bagaway from the battle of Philippi : it pipe is played where they haunt, was to prove to the Romans that he they leave the place, either as a matwas not a lame poet. He describes ter of taste or decency. He bought your critics to be a species of door- these pipes, as I have said before, of porters to the temple of farne; and a poor Highlander, giving him five says it is their business to see that no guineas for them; which, as he boasts, personis" slip in 'with holes in their sent him home like a gentleman to stockings, or paste buckles for dia- Scotland, where he bought a landed mond opes; not that they alwavs estate, and is in a probable way of perform this duty honestly. He calls coming into parliament for a Scotch the sun “ the yellow hair'd laddie ; borough. And here he somewhat the prince of darkness, “ the Black varied the old proverb, by saying, Prince ,;" or, when he displeases his that “ It was an ill bagpipe that sense of virtue, “ Monsieur De Vil.”• blowed nobody good.”. Indeed, if he He will ask you, “ What is the dis- quotes a proverb at all, it is “ with tinctive difference between a sigh- a difference ;" such as “Cobler, stick heaver and a coal-heaver ?"
to your wax, -a thing more prace not divine; he tells you, “a coal- ticable than sticking to his last, as heaver has a load at his back, which the olden proverb adviseth. He will he can carry; a sigh-heaver has one say “ What is bred in the bone will at his heart, which he can not carry." not come out with the skewer,"
He asserts that the highest delight which, to those epicurean persons o'this side the grave, is to possess a who have the magpie propensity of pair of bagpipes, and to know that prying into marrow-bones, must simno one within forty miles can play plify the proverb to their fat-headed them. Acting on this pleasure, he comprehensions. Some one used that bought a pair of a Scotch bagpiper, very trite old proverb in his hearing, and having pulled down the antlers of necessity having no laws; upon of his ancestors triumphs, suspended which, wilfully misunderstanding it, them in their place, to the amazement he remarked, “ I am very sorry for and amusement of all beholders. it: it is surely a pity, considering
• I suspect that there is an English antipathy to Frenchmen, in his selection of the appellative * Monsieur."