He would stand

too ugly to be exempt from the common failing, squinting at his coarse, square, vulgar-looking features and Spanish pointer nose with all the satisfaction of a girl of sixteen; and though he might occasionally think that it would be as well perhaps if he looked straight, he would nevertheless console himself with the reflection that a squint gave a very decided character to the face, and that it was all right when he had his spectacles on.

Miss Amelia's condescension, so unexpected on Jack's part, quite turned his head, and he squinted at his lordship's best clothes, all neatly laid out for him on the bed, with inward satisfaction at having brought them.

"D-n -n me!" said he, "I really think that girl has a fancy for me." Then he examined himself minutely in the glass, brushed round his whiskers into a curve on his cheek-bones, the curves almost corresponding with the curve of his spectacles above; then he gave his bristly porcupine-shaped head a backward rub with a sort of thing like a scrubbing brush. "If I'd only had the silver specs," thought he, "I should have done."

He then began to dress-an operation that ever and anon was interrupted by the outburst of volleys of smoke from the little spluttering, smouldering fire, whose heat, if it had any, seemed to go up the chimney, and whose smoke all came into the room.

Jack tried all things-opening the window and shutting the door, shutting the window and opening the door; but finding that, instead of curing it, he only produced the different degrees of comparison-bad, worse, worst, he at length shut both, and applied himself vigorously to dressing. He soon got into his stockings and pumps, also his black Saxony trousers; then came a fine black lace fringed cravat, and the damson-coloured velvet waistcoat with the cut-steel buttons.

"Dash me, but I look pretty well in this!" said he, eyeing first one side and then the other as he buttoned it. He then stuck a chased and figured fine gold brooch, with two pendent tassel-drops, set with turquoise and agates, that he had abstracted from his lordship's dressingcase, into his, or rather his lordship's, finely-worked shirt-front, and crowned the toilette with his lordship's best new blue coat with velvet collar, silk facings, and the Flat Hat Hunt button-"a striding fox," with the letters "F. H. H." below.

"Who shall say Mr. Spraggon's not a gentleman?" said he, as he perfumed one of his lordship's fine coroneted cambric handkerchiefs with lavender-water. Scent, in Jack's opinion, was one of the criterions of a gentleman.

Somehow Jack felt quite differently towards the house of Jawleyford; and though he did not expect much pleasure in Mr. Soapey's company, he thought, nevertheless, that the ladies and he-Amelia and he at least -would get on very well. Forgetting that he had come to eject Soapey Sponge on the score of insufficiency, he really began to think he might be a very desirable match for one of them himself.

"The Spraggons are a most respectable family," said he, eyeing himself in the glass. "If not very handsome, at all events devilish genteel," added he, speaking of himself in particular. So saying, he adorned himself with his spectacles and set off to explore his way down stairs. After divers mistakes he at length found himself in the drawing-room, where the rest of the party being assembled, they presently proceeded to dinner.

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Jack's amended costume did not produce any difference in Mr. Sponge's behaviour, who treated him with the utmost indifference. In truth, Sponge had rather a large balance against Jack for his impudence to him in the field. Nevertheless, the fair Amelia continued her attentions, and talked of hunting, occasionally diverging into observations on Lord Scamperdale's fine riding and general manly character and appearance, in the roundabout way ladies send their messages and compliments to their friends.

The dinner itself was rather flat. Jawleyford had stopped the champagne tap, though the needle-case glasses stood to tantalise the party till about the time that the beverage ought to have been flowing, when Spigot motioned Snell to take them off. The flatness then became flatter. Nevertheless, Jack worked away in his usual carnivorous style, and finished by paying his respects to all the sweets, jellies, and things in succession. He never got any of these, he said, at "home," meaning at Lord Scamperdale's-Amelia thought, if she was "my lady," he would not get any meat there either.

At length Jack finished; and having discussed cheese, porter, and red herrings, the cloth was at length drawn, and a hard-featured dessert, consisting principally of apples, followed. The wine having made a couple of melancholy circuits, the strained conversation having about come to a full stop, and Spigot having considerately placed the little round table, as if to keep the peace, between them, the ladies left the male worthies to discuss their port and sherry together. Jack, according to Woodmansterne custom, unbuttoned his waistcoat, and stuck his legs out before him,-an example that Mr. Sponge quickly followed, and each assumed an attitude that as good as said "I don't care twopence for you." A dead silence then prevailed, interrupted only by the snap, snap, snapping of Jack's toothpick against his chair-edge, when he was not busy exploring his mouth with it. It seemed to be a match which should keep silence longest-in short, who should be rudest to the other. Jack sat squinting his eyes inside out at Soapey, while Soapey pretended to be occupied with the fire. The wine being with Soapey, and at length wanting some, he was constrained to make the first move, by passing it over to Jack, who helped himself to port and sherry simultaneously-a glass of sherry after dinner (in Jack's opinion) denoting a gentleman. Having smacked his lips over that, he presently turned to the glass of port. He checked his hand in passing it to his mouth, and bore the glass up to his nose. "Corked, by Jove !" exclaimed he, setting the glass down on the table with a thump of disgust.

It is curious what unexpected turns things sometimes take in the world, and how completely whole trains of well-preconcerted plans are often turned aside by mere accidents such as this. If it hadn't been for the corked bottle of port, there is no saying but these two worthies would have held a quakers' meeting without the "spirit" moving either of them to speak. "Corked, by Jove!" exclaimed Jack.

Is it?" rejoined Soapey, smelling at his half-emptied glass, and affirming the fact.

"Better have another bottle," observed Jack.

"Certainly," replied Soapey, ringing the bell." "Spigot! this wine's corked," observed Soapey, as old Pomposo entered the room.

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Is it?" said Spigot, with the most perfect innocence, though he knew it came out of the corked batch. "I'll bring another bottle," added he,

carrying it off as if he had a whole pipe at command, though in reality he had but another out. This fortunately was less corked than the first; and Jack having given an approving smack of his great thick lips, Mr. Sponge took it on his judgment, and gave a nod to Spigot, who forthwith took his departure.

"Old trick, that," observed Jack, with a shake of the head, as Spigot shut the door.

"Is it ?" observed Mr. Sponge, taking up the observation, though in reality it was addressed to the fire.

"Noted for it," replied Jack, squinting at the sideboard, though he was staring intently at Soapey, to see how he took it.

"Well, I thought we had a bottle with a queer smatch the other night," observed Soapey.

"Old Blossomnose corked half a dozen in succession one night," replied Jack.

(He had corked three, but Jawleyford was even with him, and, having recorked them, was now reproducing them to our friends.)

"Indeed!" replied Soapey to the observation; a safe exclamation, and one that might apply to the curious coincidence, or to the meanness of trying the experiment.

Although our friends had now got the ice broken, and entered into something like a conversation, it nevertheless went on at a very slow pace, and they had ample time to consider each word before it was uttered. Jack too had time to run his peculiar situation through his mind, and ponder on his mission from Lord Scamperdale-on his lordship's detestation of Mr. Sponge, his anxiety to get rid of him, his promised corner in his will, and his lordship's hint about buying Soapey's horses if he could not get rid of him in any other way.

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"My lord 's young," mused Jack, with a shake of his head,—“ may live as long as me-may change his mind-may leave me no great things after all." Then he entered upon the pleasant speculation as to how much his lordship would be likely to leave him. "Deuced rich!" thought he, squinting ardently at the fire, though Mr. Sponge thought he was scrutinising him. "The money that man has passes all comprehension ;;—no wonder either; believe he would go a mile out of his way to save a pike. Can't leave me less than five thousand," thought Jack, or perhaps an annuity of five underd-five underd a-year paid quarterly-a underd each quarter, and one over-deuced comfortable thing!" thought he, with a shake of the head, as if such luck was too good for him to think of.

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For the information of similar expectants we may here state that, when his lordship sent for Mr. Pouncebox, he had about made up his mind to leave Jack fifty pounds a-year. About an hour after Jack's departure, however, when his lordship came to consider that Jack had sixty pounds a-year of his own, he thought forty added to it would be quite enough, and make Jack a hundred a-year. When he went to feed his hounds he reflected that Jack had not done him half such good work as old Frostyface, to whom he had only left thirty pounds a-year; and by the time Pouncebox arrived he had come to the conclusion that twenty would be ample; but lest he should see occasion to change his mind still further, he just had a codicil drawn up in favour of Mr. John Spraggon, leaving the amount blank, in which state it was locked away in his old mahogany writing-desk.

AT eight o'clock on Thursday morning, July the 6th, I left Buffalo by a small steamer for the Falls of Niagara. The distance is twenty-two miles. The scenery of this portion of the river, though pretty, is not particularly striking. After passing Fort Erie and its adjacent battlegrounds on the Canada shore, where several severe engagements occurred during the war of 1814, we came to Grand Island, twelve miles in length, with another small island at its foot, celebrated as the spot at which the Canadian insurgents took up their position during the recent rebellion in Canada.

Almost immediately opposite on the American side is Schlosser, where the Caroline steamer, which conveyed supplies to the rebels, lay moored at the time she was cut out by a British officer and his men, set on fire, and sent adrift over the Falls, which she descended, said my informant, "in full blast with a most immortal smash." We soon afterwards landed at Chippewa, about two miles from the Falls, near which another very severe engagement took place during the late war between our troops and the Americans, and in which, from all accounts, we had pretty considerably the worst of it. The river here is about two miles broad, and its current so extremely rapid that no boat dare venture within a mile of the Falls; for my own part I thought Chippewa somewhat too near to be agreeable. From Chippewa we went by cars to the Clifton Hotel on the Canada side. I have seen some of the finest cataracts in Europe, but there is nothing on the whole continent, or I believe in the world, at all to be compared to Niagara, which in the Indian language signifies "the thunder of waters." What a pity it is the scenery above the Falls is not upon a grander scale! There are the rapids, it is true, and some lovely little islets within them, but the banks are much too tame. The river below the Falls dashes along in a succession of rapids for many miles through a deep channel, the banks of which are 200 or 300 feet high, and clothed to their summits with native forest. The river above is about a mile in width, and divided by Goat Island into two distinct streams, which form the two cataracts, the Canada or Horse-shoe Fall being 1800 feet in breadth and 154 feet high; and the American Fall 900 feet in breadth and 164 feet high. The Clifton Hotel is delightfully situated on a precipice overlooking the river. I had the American Falls directly opposite my bedroom window; I could actually see them distinctly as I lay in bed; and many and many an hour have I thus passed gazing at them with ceaseless admiration, until sleep has gradually overpowered me. I have watched them on a pale moonlight night, for then are they seen to the greatest advantage; and the most eloquent description will prove inadequate to convey a just conception of the scene. I have on these occasions smoked the cigar of meditation. To stand alone on Table Rock at midnight, a pale glittering night, and look down into that tre

mendous caldron of boiling waters, encircled by a magnificent lunar rainbow, is a great event in the life of any man; and there can be no doubt that a silent contemplation of such a scene at such a time is better calculated to impress one with proper and religious feelings than the best sermon that was ever preached.

The walks along the banks of the river towards Queenston are wild, romantic, and beautiful, the scenery a great deal resembling that of the finest Scotch rivers. I walked nine miles on the Canada side to Queenston, crossed the river there, and returned home on the American side. There is nothing like walking: half the people that visit this place miss all the finest scenery by going in conveyances along the high roads. I went through woods the entire way, closely skirting the river. About half-way I came to the whirpool, where the banks are at least 300 feet high, and crowned with the finest forest-trees. The river is one sheet of foam for miles, for there is a descent of 100 feet from the Falls to Queenston; and in my opinion the rapids are almost as well worth seeing as the Falls themselves. I ascended Queenston heights, and visited Brock's monument, where a battle was fought during the last war, in which the British general of that name was killed, and this monument erected to his memory. It is now shattered to pieces, having been blown up by the Canadian rebels during the late insurrection: the view from it of the noble river, Lake Ontario in the distance, and the fine fertile country around, is exceedingly beautiful. I crossed the river at Queenston to Lewiston on the American side, where the Falls, though now nine miles distant, are supposed once to have been; and as they are known to have receded fifty yards during the last forty years, the supposition is not so very unreasonable as it would at first appear. On the American side I passed a tremendous chasm, called the Devil's Hole, into which it is said a detachment of the British army during the French war were forced, while retreating during the night before a superior force. The view of the Falls some three miles in the distance, together with the river both above and below, with a part of the great basin, was, I think, one of the finest sights I ever looked on in my life. On reaching the village of Niagara I recrossed the river in the ferry-boat to the Clifton Hotel, highly delighted with the day's excursion.

At Lundy's Lane, only two miles from the Falls, a most severe engagement took place during the last war with Great Britain, in which each side lost upwards of 800 men. I visited the burning spring near the latter place, which I thought a great curiosity; for, on a lighted candle being applied to the water, it ignited like so much spirit.

One memorable day I walked behind the great Horse-shoe Fall to Termination Rock, a distance of 153 feet. Few go unaccompanied by a guide, who supplies an oilskin dress for the occasion, at a charge of a dollar for each person. But a young Englishman, who had the summer previous gone through this ordeal, challenged me to accompany him alone; and being fond of adventure, I at once accepted the invitation, on the understanding that he was to go first. Without communicating our intention to any one, we descended the enclosed spiral-staircase, which conducted us nearly to the foot of the Horse-shoe Falls, and there my friend's courage seemed to evaporate, and he wanted me to take the lead; but that I at first respectfully declined, as being contrary to the spirit of our agreement. I threw off my coat, hat, and shoes, and advanced with him to the very edge of the curtain: the scene was tremendous; and