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him grasp hard the elbow of his chair, and emphatically thrust his face close to that of his son, he thus began :

“ Frederick, my dear child !"

The dear child was stupidly watching the gambols of a blue bottle buzzing against the window.

“ Frederick, my dear child,” began Mr. Jackman, solemnly pathetic: “you do not know what it is to be a father.”

“ Arn’t in natur' he should yet; but give the little rogue time and he'll learn as well as the best of you, I warrant me,” loudly interrupted Mrs. Dobson, who was jolting her interesting charge upon her knees. “Silence, if you please, madam!” cried Mr. Jackman, turning his

the speaker, that he might the more effectually stare at her over his shoulder. Then, having bustled himself once more into composure, he again commenced.

“ My dear child! Frederick! To feel like a father is a very serious consideration."

“There, do you hear that, you little beauty's beauty ?" shouted the nurse, at the same time indulging in one of those sonorous smacks of the lips, which are peculiar to ladies of her sedate employment.

“ Itis not three minutes ago," fired Mr. Jackman, rising and stand. ing angrily before Mrs. Dobson, “ by any watch in the kingdom,—I repeat, that three minutes have not elapsed since, in the politest way imaginable, I troubled myself to tell you to hold your tongue. Now, I command silence !"

“ Mr. Jackman,” replied the monthly nurse, looking at the gentle. man from under her brow, and speaking in a suppressed voice. sure there's plenty of room in the house without your coming here to make a disturbance just when my poor dear lady ought to want to get to sleep.” “Do you know, Mrs. Dobson, who you are ?—I'll tell

you ma'am, that I'll do as I like in my own house ;' and to give effect to this determination, Mr. Jackman slightly raised his voice, which Mrs. Dobson no sooner heard than she gave loose to her loudest powers, actually bawling,

“Shame on 'e! shame on 'e! ugh!" here she indulged in a sound, between a scream and a grunt, of so emphatic a nature, that the delivery fairly shook her ponderous frame. “ Shame on 'e! You must have a bad heart to make a noise like this when you knows my lady didn't scarce touch a mouthful o' dinner. Hoh! now mind my words; I won't take none o' the consequences, come what may of it. If the dear soul dies—you may laugh, Mr. Jackman, but it's no laughing matter to a woman o’ my years. Thank heaven, my character's established. Oh! when the doctor said, only this very morning, quiet and good nursing was everything to us now-when you might have had the whole house to yourself! I never was interfered with by no gentleman 'afore. I've attended rich and poor-ah! though I say it, the best of people. Lady Emily Smithson will speak to my character any day; I was with her last June : we 'nad nothing of this sort there ; and if you'd known to behave like a

A very natural consequence here interrupted this discursive harangue; Mrs. Jackson, overpowered by the noise and confusion, had fainted.

All crowded to the bedside ; and her husband, who was really hurt at the result of the disturbance to which he had been a party, bore

You are

Mrs. Dobson's glances and remarks with repentant humility, while the nurse, no ways moved by his sorrowful looks, made him hurry up and down stairs for sundry trifling articles; nor was it till he became incapable of further exertion, that she thought " the poor, dear, sweet sufferer might do now ;" then, treading with such extreme caution as fully impressed the necessity of preserving silence, she advanced to where the gentleman stood panting ; and assuming an air of parental forgiveness, laid her hand udon his shoulder.

“Now, as I'm a Christian woman,” said Mrs. Dobson, in a voice barely audible : “ let us hope, for the love of heaven, my dear Mr. Jackman, you will another time

But he who delighted in lecturing, had an abhorrence of being lectured; and as any further dispute with Mrs. Dobson was out of the question in that apartment, he cast his eyes round the room, and perceiving that Mr. Alexander had taken the boy down stairs, and that the half hour he had so gloriously devoted to other purposes, had expired, he hastily said,

“ My dear Mrs. Dobson-there-say no more about it. not a father!"

The woman stared, and was about to reply, when Jackman darted out of the room, crying that “the coach was waiting, and he must see the child off.”

As he descended the stairs, he thus soliloquised :

“ Was ever parent so afflicted with a child ? He will thrive under no treatment: I allowed him to come down after dinner-gave him fruit, wine, and all he could ask for—then he destroyed my property. I tried severity, he set the dog at me-made me the butt of that Irish beast, and caused me to be hooted at by a mob. Now when, with my heart overflowing, I endeavour to awaken him to something like a sense of respectability, there's his poor mother fainting—the whole house is disturbed-me with a dreadful head-ache, owing to that old woman's infernal clatter, and he himself the only person who has not been ‘put out' by his dreadful low predilections. The child is evidently unfit for genteel society ; I don't know what can be done with him. It's madness attempting to instruct him : so he must go to school—the Good-for-nothing !"

CHARADE.
There was once a knight both young and tall,

And blessed with a handsome face,
When he rode at the ring, or danced at the ball,

'Twas done with a wonderful grace;
By the leaguered wall, in the battle's burst,

Mid the foremost his name was reckoned :
But, alas! he always was my First,

Because he had not my Second.
Fair ladies turned with a scornful look

When he ventured to draw near;
And fathers and mothers shuddered and shook

If he gazed on their daughters dear;
Often apart from the crowd be stole,

And cried as his fate he cursed,
If my Second I had, I might e'en be my Whole,
But I never should be my First."

P. O. P.

BENTLEY'S

MISCELLAN Y.

AUGUST, 1838.

Contents.

Page

OLIVER TWIST, NO. XV. ILLUSTRATED BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK,

BY “ BOZ”

105

THE LEGEND OF WALTER CHILDE CANTO IV.

121

BY MR. BULLER, OF BRAZEN NOSE THE DEAD CLEARING, BY C. F. HOFFMAN, AUTHOR OF “A WIN.

TER IN THE FAR WEST"

129

.

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156

ADVENTURES IN PARIS-THE SOUBRETTE,

BY TOBY ALLSPY NONSENSE! A MISCELLANY ABOUT LOVE, BY WILLIAM JERDAN NAPOLEON'S MIDNIGHT REVIEW--LATINE REDDITUS

167

173

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203

SONG OF THE GONDOLIER,

BY MOTLEY

MR. ROBERT BOLTON, THE GENTLEMAN CONNECTED WITH THE

PRESS"
NR. BARNEY MAGUIRE'S HISTORY OF THE CORONATION

204
207

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