mathematics; history, foreign and domestic; geography, ancient and modern; voyages and travels, antiquities, British and foreign; natural history; natural and moral philosophy; classics; arts and sciences; belles lettres and miscellanies. Lady D. Bless me! 'tis enough to batter the poor boy's brains to a mummy. Pang. "A little learning-" Pang. "Is a dangerous thing."-Pope. Hem! Lady D. And you have left out the main article. Pang. What may your ladyship mean? Lady D. Mean! Why, dancing, to be sure. Pang. Dancing? Dr. Pangloss, the philosopher, teach to dance? Lady D. Between whiles, you might give Dick a lesson or two in the hall. As my lord's valet plays on the kit, it will be quite handy to have you both in the house, you know. Pang. With submission to your ladyship, my business is with the head, and not the heels of my pupil. Lady D. Fiddle faddle! Lady Betty tells me that the heads of young men of fashion, now-a-days, are by no means overloaded. They are all left to the barber and dentist. Pang."Twould be daring to dispute so self-evident an axiom. But, if your ladyship— Lady D. Look ye, doctor ;-he must learn to dance and jabber French; and I wouldn't give a brass farden for anything else. I know what's elegance;-and you'll find the gray mare the better horse, in this house, I promise you. Pang. Her ladyship is paramount. "Dux fœmina facti.”— Virgil. Hem! (Aside. Lady D. What's your pay here, Mr. Tutorer? Pang. Three hundred pounds per annum :—that is-sixno, three-no-ay-no matter:-the rest is between me and Mr. Dowlas. (Aside. Lady D. Do as I direct you in private, and, to prevent words, I'll double it. Pang. Double it! What, again! Nine hundred per annum! (Aside.) I'll take it. "Your hand; a covenant."Shakspeare. Hem! Bless me, I've got beyond the reading, at last! "I've often wished that I had, clear, (Lord D speaks without. I hear, my lord Swift. Hem! "Nine hundred pounds a year." Enter LORD DUBERLY and DICK DOWLAS. Lord D. Come along, Dick! Here he is again, my lady. Twist, the tailor, happen'd to come in promiscuously, as I may say, and Pang. Accidentally, my lord, would be better. Lord D. Ay, accidentally-with a suit of my Lord Docktail's under his arm; and, as we was in a bit of a rumpus to rig out Dick, why Pang. Dress, not rig-unless metaphorically. Lord D. Well-to dress out-why, we-hump! doctor, don't bother-in short, we popp'd Dick into 'em; and, Twist says, they hit to a hair. Dick. Yes, they are quite the dandy-aren't they, mother? This is all the go, they say-cut straight-that's the thingsquare waist-wrap over the knee, and all that. Slouch is the word now, you know. Lady D. Exceeding genteel, I declare! Dick. They don't pinch-do they? Dick. Oh no! just as if I'd been measured. Turn about, Lord D. Pinch? Why, my lady, they sit like a sack. But why don't you stand up? The boy rolls about like a porpus in a storm. Dick. That's the fashion, father!-that's modern ease. Young Vats, the beau brewer, from the borough, brought it down, last Christmas, to Castleton. A young fellow is nothing now without the Bond street roll, a tooth-pick between his teeth, and his knuckles cramm'd into his coat pocket. Then away you go, lounging lazily along. Ah, Tom! Will rolling away, you see! How are you, Jack? my little Dolly!—that's the way-isn't it, mother? What! Lady D. The very air and grace of our young nobility! Lord D. Is it? Grace must have got plaguy limber and lopt, of late. There's the last Lord Duberly's father, done in our dining-room, with a wig as wide as a wash-tub, and stuck up as stiff as a poker. He was one of your tip-tops, too, in his time, they tell me; he carried a gold stick before George the First. Lady D. Yes; and looks, for all the world, as straight as if he had swallowed it. Lord D. No matter for that, my lady. What signifies dignity without its crackeristick? A man should know how to bemean himself, when he is as rich as Pluto. Pang. Plutus, if you please, my lord. Pluto, no doubt, has disciples, and followers of fashion; but Plutus is the ruler of riches:— Δημήτηρ μεν Πλοῦτον ἐγείνατο.”—Hesiod. Hem ! Lord D. There, Dick! d'ye hear how the tutorer talks? Odd rabbit, he can ladle you out Latin by the quart; and grunts Greek like a pig. I've gin him three hundred & year and settled all he 's to larn you. Ha'n't I doctor? Pang. Certainly, my lord. "Thrice to thine-" Dick. Yes, we know all about that. Don't we, doctor? Lady D. Aye, aye; clearly understood. Isn't it, doctor? Pang. nine."-Shakspeare. A SONG OF THE RAILROAD.-C. T. WOLFE. THROUGH the mold and through the clay, By the margin of the lake, Crashing! dashing! Over ridges, Gullies, bridges! By the bubbling rill, And mill Highways, Byways, Hollow hill Jumping bumping- Like forty thousand giants snoring Dash along! Slash along! Crash along! Flash along! On! on! with a jump, And a bump, And a roll Hies the fire-fiend to its destined goal! O'er the acqueduct and bog, Every instant jog; new, Every instant lost to view; Now a tavern now a steeple- Grumble-stumble Rumble-tumble Fretting-getting in a stew! Church and steeple, gaping people- By the foundry, past the forge, Through the plain and mountain gorge, Flit like spectres as you pass ! If to hail a friend inclined Whish! whirr! ka-swash! he's left behind! Rumble, tumble, all the day, THE FARMER AND THE LAWYER.-HORACE SMITH. A COUNSEL in the Common Pleas, who was esteemed a mighty wit, upon the strength of a chance hit, amid a thousand flippancies, and his occasional bad jokes in bullying, bantering, browbeating, ridiculing, and maltreating women, or other timid folks, in a late cause resolved to hoax a clownish, Yorkshire farmer,-one who by his uncouth look and gait appeared expressly meant by Fate for being quizzed and played upon. So having tipped the wink to those in the back rows, who kept their laughter bottled down until our wag should draw the cork, he smiled jocosely on the clown, and went to work. "Well, Farmer Numbskull, how go caves at York ?" “Why, not, sir, as they do wi' you, but on four legs instead of two." "Officer!" cried the legal elf, piqued at the laugh |