Seen dispersedly in various parts of the trod on my corn, and lamed me for the evening! gardens. Master Peter. Oh my! what a sweet place! Why, the lamps are thicker than the pears in our garden, at Walworth: what a load of oil they must burn! Miss Arabella. Mamma, is that the lady mayoress, with the ostridge feathers, and the pink satin gown? Mrs. Greenfat. No, my love; that's Miss Biddy Wilkins, of Gutter-lane! (To a waiter.) You rude fellow, you've trod on my dress, and your nasty foot has torn off one of my flounces. Miss Theodosia. John, (to Mr. Eelskin,) how very pretty that hilluminated walk looks. Dear me! do you see the fountain? How vastly reviving this hot weather, isn't it? Mr. Eelskin. Ah, my beloved Theodosia! how should I notice the beauties of the scene in your company-when your eyes are brighter than the lamps, and your voice is sweeter than the music? In vain the fiddlers fiddle, and the singers sing, I can hear nothing-listen to nothing-but my adorable Theodosia ! Master Humphrey. La, papa, what's that funny round place, with flags on the top, and ballad women and men with cocked hats inside? Mr. Greenfat. That's the Hawkestraw. Mrs. Greenfat. Hush, my dear; it's vulgar to talk loud. Dosee, my love, don't hang so on Mr. John's arm, you'll quite fatigue him. That's Miss Tunstall-Miss Tunstall's going to sing. Now, my pretty Peter, don't talk so fast. Miss Arabella. Does that lady sing in French, mamma? Mrs. Greenfat. No, child, it's a senthemental air, and they never have no meaning? Miss Theodosia. That's the overthure to Friedshots; Eelskin, do you like it? Mr. Eelskin. On your piano I should. But shall I take you out of this glare of light? Would you choose a ramble in the dark walk, and a peep at the puppet-showcosmoramas? Mr. Greenfat. I hates this squalling. (Bell rings.) What's that for? Mr. Eelskin. That's for the fant-toesheeni, and the balancing man. Mr. Greenfat. Well then, let's go and .ook at Mr. Fant-toc-sheeni. Mrs. Greenfat. Oh, goodness, how I'm squeedged. Pray don't push so, sir-I'm astonished at your rudeness, mam! You've Mr. Greenfat. Sir, how dare you suffer your wife to tread on my wife's toes? Master Peter. My stars, sister, he's got a bagginette on his nose! Mrs. Greenfut. Mr. John, will you put little Humphy on your shoulder, and show him the fant-oh-see-ne? Master Humphrey. I can see now, mamma; there's Punch and Judy, mamma! Oh, my! how well they do dance! Mr. Greenfat. I can see this in the streets for nothing. Mrs. Greenfat. Yes, Mr. Greenfat, but not in such good company! Mr. Eelskin. This, my beautiful Theodosia, is the musical temple; it's very elegant-only it never plays. Them paintings on the walls were painted by Mungo Parke and Hingo Jones; the archatechture of this room is considered very fine! Master Peter. Oh, I'm so hot. (Bell rings.) Mr. Eelskin. That's for the hyder-hawlics. We'd better go into the gallery, and then the ladies won't be in the crowd. Mr. Greenfat. Come along then; we want to go into the gallery. A shilling a-piece, indeed! I wonder at your impu dence! Why, we paid three and sixpence a head at the door. Mr. Eelskin. Admission to the gallery is hextra. Mr. Greenfat. Downright robbery !—I won't pay a farthing more. Miss Arabella. See, mamma, water and fire at once!-how droll! Mrs. Greenfat. Pray be kind enough to take off your hat, sir; my little boy can't see a bit. Humphy, my dear, hold fast by the railing, and then you won't lose your place. Oh, Mr. John, how very close and sultry it is! Mr. Greenfat. What outlandish hussey's that, eh, John? sir. Mr. Eelskin. That's the female juggler, Miss Theodosia. Are those real knives, do you think, John? Mr. Eelskin. Oh, no doubt of it; only the edges are blunt to prevent mischief. Who's this wild-looking man? Oh, this is the male juggler: and now we shall have a duet of juggling! Mrs. Greenfat. Can you see, Peter?Bella, my love, can you see? Mr. John, do you take care of Dosee? Well, I purtest I never saw any thing half so wonder ful: did you, Mr. Greenfat! Miss Arabella. Why do all the dancers wear plaids, mamma? Mrs. Greenfat. Because it's a cool dress, dear. Mr. Greenfat. Well, if a girl of mine whisked her petticoats about in that manner, I'd have her horsewhipped. Mr. Eelskin. Now we'll take a stroll till the concert begins again. This is the marine cave-very natural to look at, Miss, but nothing but paint and canvass, I assure you. This is the rewolving evening war for the present; after the fire-works, it still change into his majesty, King George. Yonder's the hermit and his cat. Master Peter. Mamma, Joes that old man always sit there? Mrs. Greenfat. I'm sure I don't know, child; does he, Mr. Eelskin? Mr. Greenfat. Nonsense-it's all gammon! Mr. Eelskin. This way, my angel; the concert has recommenced. Miss Theodosia. Oh, that's Charles Taylor; I likes his singing; he's such a merry fellow: do hancore him, John. Mrs. Greenfat. Dosee, my dear, you're too bold; it was a very impurent song: I declare I'm quite ashamed of you! Mr. Greenfat. Never mince matters; always speak your mind, girl. Mr. Eelskin. The fire-works come next. Suppose we get nearer the Moorish tower, and look for good places, as Mr. G. dislikes paying for the gallery. Now you'll not be afeard; there'll not be the least danger, depend. Mrs. Greenfat. Is there much smoke, Mr. John?-Do they fire many cannons? -I hates cannons-and smoke makes me cough. (Bell rings.) Run, run, my dears— Humphy, Peter, Bella, run! Mr. Greenfat, run, or we shall be too late! Eelskin and Dosee are a mile afore us! What's that red light? Oh, we shall all be burnt! What noise is that?-Oh, it's the bomb in the Park !-We shall all be burnt ! Mr. Greenfat. Nonsense, woman, don't frighten the children! Miss Theodosia. Now you're sure the Mr. Eelskin. Quite sure, my charmer: I have stood here repeatedly, and never had a hair of my head hurt. See, Blackmore is on the rope; there he goes up-up-up! -Isn't it pretty, Miss? Miss Theodosia. Oh, delightful!-Does he never break his neck? Mr. Eelskin. Never-it's insured! Now he descends. How they shoot the maroons at him! Don't be afeard, lovee, they sha'n't hurt you. See, Miss, how gracefully he bows to you. Isn't it terrific! Miss Theodosia. Is this all?-I thought it would last for an hour, at least. John, I'm so hungry; I hope papa means to have supper? Master Peter. Mamma, I'm so hungry. Master Humphrey. Papa, I'm so dry. Miss Arabella. Mamma, I want somewhat to eat. Mrs. Greenfat. Greenfat, my dear, we must have some refreshments. Mr. Greenfat. Refreshments! where will you get them? All the boxes are full. -Oh, here's one. Waiter! what, the devil, call this a dish of beef?-It don't weigh three ounces! Bring half a gallon of stout, and plenty of bread. Can't we have some water for the children? Mr. Eelskin. Shouldn't we have a little wine, sir?-it's more genteeler. Mr. Greenfat. Wine, Eelskin, wine !— Bad sherry at six shillings a bottle!— Couldn't reconcile it to my conscience -We'll stick to the stout. Mrs. Greenfat. Eat, my loves.-Some more bread for Bella.-There's a bit of fat for you, Peter.-Humphy, you shall have my crust.-Pass the stout to Dosee, Mr. John.-Don't drink it all, my dear! Mr. Greenfat. Past two o'clock !-Shameful!-Waiter, bring the bill. Twelve shillings and eightpence - abominable! Charge a shilling a pot for stout-monstrous! Well, no matter; we'll walk home. Come along. TO MY TEA-KETTLE. For the Table Book. 1. For many a verse inspired by tea, (A never-failing muse to me) MY KETTLE, let this tribute flow, Thy charms to blazon, And tell thy modest worth, although 2. Let others boast the madd'ning bowl, Thou art the Bacchus that alone From thee I tipple Helicon, 3. 'Tis night-my children sleep-no noise For when the wind would gain mine ear, As if thou wert resolv'd to cheer 4. And so thou dost: those brazen lungs That honest breath was never known And for thy feelings-all must own But late, another eye and ear That ear is deaf-that friendly eye 6. Be thou then, now, my friend, my guide, Teach me so patiently to bear That they may end, like thine, in air, 7. Let me support misfortune's fire Let him still handle me with ease, 8. O! may my memory, like thy front, And ev'ry rub-that makes my faults SAM SAM'S SON. TO MY TEA-POT. For the Table Book. 1. MY TEA-FOT! While thy lips pour forth I'll pour forth my rhymes for thee: Commencing-" Amo tea." 2. Yes-let Anacreon's votary sip Some day he'll be bowl'd out for it- 3. After fatigue, how dear to me And makes the water bubble. 4. I scorn the hop, disdain the malt, 5. Yet some assure me whilst I sip, 6. That she prefers it greatly: She warns me of Tea-dealers' tricks- 'Tis bad to sip-and yet to give Yet still, tenacious of my Tea, I think the grocers send it me Quite pure, ('tis what they call so.) Heedless of warnings, still I get "Tea ven:ente die, et Tea decedente," also. SAM SAM'S SON. Stratford upon Avon Church. From a sepia drawing, obligingly communicated by J.S.J., the reader is presented with this view of a church, "hallowed by being the sepulchral enclosure of the remains of the immortal Shakspeare." It exemplifies the two distinct styles, the early pointed and that of the fourteenth century. The tower is of the first construction; the windows of the transepts possess a preeminent and profuse display of the mullions and tracery characteristic of the latter period.* Mr. Carter, in the Gentleman's Magazine, 1816. VUL. I.-15 This structure is spacious and handsome, and was formerly collegiate, and dedicated to the Holy Trinity. A row of limes trained so as to form an arched avenue form an approach to the great door. A representation of a portion of this plea entrance is in an engraving of the church in the "Gentleman's Magazine" for 1807. Another opportunity will occur for rela ting particulars respecting the venerable edifice, and the illustrious bard, whose birth and burial at Stratford upon Avon confer on the town imperishable fame. Garrick Plays. No. XII. [From the "Brazen Age," an Historical Play, by Thomas Heywood, 1613.] Venus courts Adonis. Venus. Why doth Adonis fy the Queen of Love, My beauty that charms Gods, makes Men amazed With my white fingers will I clap thy cheek; Adonis. Madam, you are not modest. I affect Would make your cheek seem much more beautiful. I have heat to melt thee; I am Queen of Love. Of which I am not mistress, and can uɛe. I have kisses that can murder unkind words, Thou shalt not, Adon, take me by the hand; Phoebus jeers Vulcan. V'ul. Good morrow, Phoebus; what's the news abroad? For thou see'st all things in the world are done, Phab. Sometime I cast my eye upon the sea, With my warm fervour to give metals, trees, Here spy I cattle feeding; forests there Stored with wild beasts; here shepherds with their lasses, Piping beneath the trees while their flocks graze. In cities I see trading, walking, bargaining, Vel. Thrice happy Phœbus, That, whilst poor Vulcan is confin'd to Lemnos, I see all coronations, funerals, Marts, fairs, assemblies, pageants, sights and shows. And, shall I tell thee, Vulcan, 'tother day Vul. God Mars Phob. As I was peeping through a cranny, a-bedVul. Abed! with whom?-some pretty Wench, I warrant. Phab. She was a pretty Wench. Vul. Tell me, good Phoebus, That, when I meet him, I may flout God Mars; Phab. Not to dissemble, Vulcan, 'twas thy Wife! The Peers of Greece go in quest of Hercules, and find him in woman's weeds, spinning with Omphale. Jason. Our business was to Theban Hercules. 'Twas told us, he remain'd with Omphale, The Theban Queen. Telamon, Speak, which is Omphale? or which Alcides? Pollur. Lady, our purpose was to Hercules; Shew us the man. Omphale. Behold him here. Atreus. Where? Omphale. There, at his task. Jason. Alas, this Hercules!. This is some base effeminate Groom, not he That with his puissance frighted all the earth. Jason. Woman, we know thee not: |