generate race, an it's time the deil were looking after

his ain."

"Ah, Whattie Blythe, ye never said a truer say. An' hasna the deil, or the fairies, or the browies, ta'en away our ladie bodily, and the haill country is running and riding in search o' her; and there is twenty hundred merks offered to the first that can find her, an' bring her safe back. They hae ta'en her away, skin an' bane, body and soul, an' a', Wattie!"

And where is it

"Hech-wow! but that is awsome! thought they have ta'en her to, Bessie ?" "O, they hae some guess at that frae her ain hints afere. It is thought they hae carried her after that Satan of a creature, wha wrought sae muckle wae about the house. It is for him they are a' looking, for they ken weel, that where they get the tane they will get the tither. Alack-a-day Wattie, keep ye a gayan sharp louk out about the cleuchs and the caves o' our glen, for the lady kens them a' gayan weel; and gin the twenty hunder merks wad come our way, it might gang a waur gate. It wad tocher a' our bonny lasses." Ay, weel I wat, Bessie, that's nae lee. And now, when ye bring me amind o't, the L- forgie me gin I dinna hear a creature up in the Broekholes this mornng, skirling as if something had been cutting its throat. It gars a the hairs stand on my head when I think it may hae been our leddy, an' the droich of a creature murdering her. I took it for a battle of wulcats; but when I think on it again, they war unco like some o' our leddy's unearthly screams-What is that I hear. Bessie, rin to the door, an' see what noise that is."

Bessie ran to the door, but soon returned an altered creature, with her mouth wide open, and her eyes set in her head.

"It is them, Wattie! it is them! His presence be about us! What will we do ?"

"Them? whaten them?"

“Why, that blackguard creature coming here, leading our leddy by the hair o'the head, an' yerking her wi' a stick. I am terrified out o' my wits. What will we do ?"

We'll see what they say," said Wattie, as the two entered, a frightful looking couple indeed. Merodach, with his old withered face and ferret eyes, leading the Lady of Wheelhope by the hair, which was mixed with gray, and whose face was all bloated with wounds and bruises, and having stripes of blood on her garments.

"How's this!-how's this, Sir," said Wattie Blythe. "My leddy, I am unco grieved to see you in sic a plight. Ye hae surely been dooms sair left to yoursell."

The lady shook her head, uttered a feeble hollow laugh, and fixed her eyes on Merodach. But such a look! It almost frightened the simple aged couple out of their senses. It was not a look of love nor of a hatred exclusively; neither was it of desire or disgust, but it was a combination of them all. It was such a look as one fiend would cast on another, in whose everlasting destruction he rejoiced.

Hear what I have to say," said the creature—“I came to do you a service. Here, take this cursed wretched woman, whom you style your lady, and deliver her up to the lawful authorities, to be restored to her husband and her place in society. She is come upon one that hates her, and never said one kind word to her in his life, and though I have beat her like a dog, still she clings to me, and will not depart, so enchanted is

she with the laudable purpose of cutting my throat. Tell your master and her brother, that I am not be burdened with their maniac. I have scourged her, I have spurned and kicked her, afflicting her night and day. and yet from my side she will not depart. Take her: claim the reward in full, and your fortune is made, so farewell.

The creature bowed and went away, but the moment his back was turned the lady fell a-screaming and struggling like one in an agony, and, in spite of the old couple's exertions, she forced herself out of their hands, and ran after the retreating Merodach. When he saw better would not be, he turned upon her, und, by one blow with his stick, struck her down; and not content with that, he continued to kick and beat her in such a manner, as to all appearances, would have killed twenty ordinary persons. The poor devoted dame could do nothing, but now and then utter a squeak like a half-worried rat, and writhe and grovel on the sward, till Wattie and his wife came up and withheld her tormentor from further violence. He then bound her hands behind her back with a strong cord, and delivered her once more to the charge of the old couple, who contrived to hold her by that means and take her home.

Wattie had not the face to take her into the hall, but into one of the out-houses, where he brought her brother to receive her. He was manifestly vexed at her reappearance, and scrupled not to testify his dissatisfaction; for when Wattie told him how the wretch had abused his sister, and that, had it not been for Bessie's interference and his own, the lady would have been killed outright

"Why, Walter, it is a great pity that he did not kill her outright," said he. "What good can her life now do to her, or of what value is her life to any creature living? After one has lived to disgrace all connected with them, the sooner they are taken off the better."

He, however, paid old Walter down his two thousand merks, a great fortune for one like him in those days; and not to dwell longer on this unnatural story, I shall only add, very shortly, that the lady of Wheelhope soon made her escape once more, and flew, as by an irresistible charm, to her tormentor. Her friends looked no more after her; and the last time she was seen alive, it was following the uncouth creature up the water of Daur, weary, wounded, and lame, while he was all the way beating her, as a piece of excellent amusement. A few days afterwards, her body was found among some wild haggs, in a place called Crookburn, by a party of the persecuted Covenanters that were in hiding there, some of the very men whom she had exerted herself to destroy, and who had been driver., like David of old, to pray for a curse and earthly punishment upon her. They buried her like a dog at the Yetts of Keppel, and rolled three huge stones upon her grave, which are lying there to this day. When they found her corpse, it was mangled and wounded in a most shocking manner, the fiendish creature having manifestly tormented her to death. He was never more seen or heard of in this kingdom, though all the country-side was kept in terror for him many years afterwards; and to this day, they will tell you of The Brownie of the Black Haggs, which title he seems to have acquired after his disappearance.

The Ettrick Shepherd.

CIVIC BIOGRAPHY.

A salmon's belly. Helluo, was thy fate:
The doctor call'd, declares all help too late.
"Mercy," cries Helluo, "mercy on my soul,

Is there no hope?-alas! then bring the jowl."

THE late Alderman Sir Quin Mullet was the son of Mr. James Mullett, who kept one of those magazines, of vital importance to society, called sook-shops, in Pudding-lane. Pope lisped in rhyme; and the late worthy Alderman, even before he could lisp, exhibited strong powers of manducation, having been born with the wise teeth, as the nurses call them, quite perfect. He drew far more copiously from the breast than other children, which was one cause of his mother's falling into a decline, that terminated her existence, while he was yet an infant. The Alderman's first years were passed like those of other children, among whom, however, he was observed, from the early protrusion of the abdomen, or his being what is vulgarly called pot-bellied, to be always the least active. As he increased in growth, his mental faculties and peculiar genius more and more developed themselves. Sir Joshua Reynolds fell in love with his art from looking into a drawing-book, and the trophies of Miltiades gave enother great name to Greece. In like manner the incipient Alderman, at the sight of the smoking rounds of beef, and other savoury edibles in his father's shop, soon discovered an uncommon propensity for the culinary profession. His father was one of those easy, plodding men, who run through life without ambition, and mark no years with their deeds during their jog-trot journey. Accordingly, he never rose to greater eminence than on his first starting in business. It was reserved for his son to scale the steep of fortune, by the dint of a more aspiring spirit and more commanding talents. Young Mullet was found, at a very tender age, making his coup d'essai in a corner of his father's shop, trussing an unlucky sparrow that had been given him by a playfellow. In vain was he apprenticed to a different trade-the ruling passion became irresistible. He hoarded his pence, and now and then cheapened a pigeon, which he cooked in the workshop when the workmen were gone to their meals, and devoured in solitude, with a sauce of his own invention. At length his indentures were cancelled, and he was taken home to be instructed in his father's trade, the true sphere for the exercise of his genius. He taught himself to read from an old cookery book, which served the double purpose of inciting emulation in his art, and conferring on him a necessary acquirement; for schools, fifty years ago, were far less within reach of the humbler classes than they are now. Old Mullet viewed with rapture the dawning of his son's genius, thought him a prodigy, and chuckled over him to all the neighbours when they entered his repository of beef and black puddings. In truth, the lad acquired the art of cooking plain dishes by a sort of intuitive perception; and so well did he manage to hit the exact period of calorification for every joint that he rapidly increased his father's custom. He roasted a sucking pig to perfection in the first three months of his probation; and made such a progress in the more refined and abstruse branches of his useful science, that he rose to the very epic of cookery itself, by a well graduated ascent over all intervening dishes. He concocted turtle soup of such superlative merit in the eyes of gastronomists, that his fame spread east aad west, from

He had not long

Wapping even to Temple Bar. reached the zenith of his professional glory, when his father died, pronouncing his son's name and "turtle" with his last sigh, and prophesying his approaching greatness. Mr. Mullet, jun, now Mr. Mullet, was become a man of some consideration from his accumulated profits. He accordingly removed his establishment to a better situation, and the sale of his exquisite viands increased still more. He became a Common Councilman, and Alderman of Portsoken ward; was knighted for taking up an address to the King, on the affair of Peg Nicholson; and kept his town and country houses. Soon after reaching this elevated distinction, it was, that he was jokingly denominated by some city wags, Sur-Mullet.

66

He

His eyes

After this sketch of his earlier history, I must speak of my friend as a more exalted character. With us wealth is the criterion of worth, and the most hated thing is poverty- Alderman Mullet was now become the boon companion of the titled and the rich. Pudding-lane was forgotten. With the gown of Alderman he fulfilled what are practically the most essential duties of the office. He attended all dinners with the scrupulous punctuality of a religious obligation, If he were not present at a court for civil or judicial business he was found at the never-failing repast afterwards, He seemed at this period to put in practice the knowledge of his early years in a professional regard, that he might better enjoy the latter half of his days. grew more good-humoured and corpulent. "stood out with fatness." He became a huge hill of flesh," like Falstaff; a complete " man-mountain," as Swift has it. Every step he walked, huge collops of carnified accumulations, pendant from his chin, shook tremulously their scarlet honours, in token of the good cheer in which he partook. His voice seemed to issue from far distant recesses, with a hoarseness and laborious circumvolution of sound, a sort of volcanic exertion. He was always most happy at a city feast; then his oleaginous eyes shone forth from beheath his bushy eyebrows, like an ignis fatuus under a thicket, while the spoonfuls of green fat approached his pillowy and disparted lips, seconded by the cold punch and luculent champaign. His face was rotund and moony; red with joyous wine, and somewhat geographical, for it bore numerous eminences, protuberances, and genile concavities, and when dining, rivulets of shining nectar occasionally from the corners of his mouth; thus rivers and mountains might be seen on its spotted globe." He ate voraciously, as if every new meal were to be his last; and was once or twice rolled on a stone floor for repletion-a remedy frequently adopted at civic feasts to recover over-gorged brethren. This failing was the cause of his death-peace to his ashes! He never was a husbander of nature's resources. He was no epicure of discretion, but a plain, downright, straight-forward hard eater. He never took exercise, to carry off the effects of repletion and create a fresh zest for enjoyment. He could not refine in his pleasure, but battened in it grossly. He had no system of politics for governing his stomach, but would lie a-bed eat a breakfast of half a dozen different things, take a huge lunch at mid-day, and keep all in its place with "a stopper," as he termed it, of Cognac. Just before dinner he swallowed "a persuader" of Curaçoa, to excite an appetite -practices by no means to be defended, though Sir Quin was a genius. He was partial to a round of beef

66

stewed in Claret, and this was a standing dish at his table latterly, at which he kept excellent cheer for his friends. The exquisite flavour of his viands, and the grateful titillating effect on the palate of a prodigal combination of epicurean dishes, were never experienced on earth in such marvellous perfection as by the guest of Alderman Sir Quin Mullet.

Within the last twelvemonth he began to fall off frequently in his appetite; this made him double his quan. tity of stimulants, He could not bear to hear a man say he was hungry, without showing an envious peevishness. Though he complained to his physician of bad digestion, he would never suffer any interference with his diet. He heard a surgeon speak one day of the hunger of a patient afflicted with the tape-worm, and inquired if he himself could not be inoculated for it, No pupil at Brooke's could equal him in carving: his anatomical knowledge comprehending all edible birds, and quadrupeds, from peacocks to larks, from an ox to a leveret every joint and sinew was familiar to him. His conversation during dinner was spare, and prineipally confined to the concoction of dishes, on which subject he displayed more than clerical eloquence; he even sometimes approached, on this subject, to the obscure side of the sublime. A venison pasty, and its flavour, were matters for an hour's lecture, Sir Quin being of that order of talkers that can discourse more elaborately in proportion to the insignificance of their subject; not perhaps, a rare gift, but an imposing one. He was not characterized as a great drinker, though he scorned at "thin potations." He moistened his provisions with drafts of the choicest potables, and kept close to ebriety without entering its precincts; though many may imagine, perhaps rightly, that this was occasioned by his quality of sustaining large draughts without appearing to suffer from them.

.. But I must now proceed to the last eventful scene of his existence. The dinner at the Gog and Magog was irresistible in the eyes of Sir Quin. Would Dr. Kitch

iner had lived, and the Court of Aldermen had appointed him their Medico-laureate, with a liberal salary, and a binding clause that he should attend all their dinners with his "preparatives," and render harmless the suicidal delicacies that smile on us only to destroy, then the worthy Alderman had lived to enjoy many a festal scene more, ere the rubbish of Cornhill was flung upon his coffin; and other guests of less note, whom the bills of mortality do not name, had also escaped ! On the 9th of November 1827, Sir Quin Mullet seated himself in his carriage to proceed to Guildhall, his rubicund countenance beaming with anticipated enjoy

ment.

He was dressed in all the honours of his station and in due pomp entered the building, moving his ponderous frame to the Aldermen's table with a rolling elephantic gait. He sat down, and gazed round at the company. Expectation was aroused to its highest pitch. The majesty of Cheapside and Leadenhall was arrayed in all its glory at the different tables; every mouth watering with self-promised satisfaction, every palate ardent for gratification. The gallery was filled with ladies displaying a prodigality of beauty almost too dazzling for mortal eyes to repose upon, had not the well covered tables distracted their gaze, Now the rich plate was spread over the snowy embroidered damask, and soft strains of music ascended with the steam of a thousand dishes in a savoury oblation to the

beards, noses, and ears, of Gog and Magog, the guardian genii of the Hall. The marble monuments around echoed with the animating sound of ten thousand knives and forks, that clashed in most stomach-stirring harmony the " din of war," while an army of obedient slaves in livery submissively watched even the shadow of a command. At that animating moment it was that Alderman Sir Quin Mullet gently unfolded his napkin, and tucked a corner of it under his chin; then dipping his spoon in the rich soup before him, and moving it round and round his plate, that he might first exhale its fragrance concentrated his every faculty in the important business of the time. He was silent for some minutes, during which he attended to his duty as an alderman of his standing in the city of London was bound to do; there were witnesses enough observant of the fact. He was at length necessitated to pause, though still eager for the fray, and looking towards me with an expression I shall never forget, and wiping his forehead with his napkin, an operation which was fully justifiable from the effects of his labour, he invited me to take wine. Alas! it was the last we took in company together. Sir Quin swallowed it at a gulp, as was his custom, and immediately threw his eyes in a hurried way over the table, merely, as I then thought, to glance at the different dishes, and select the most agreeable. He had, however, a noble haunch of venison before him, and it could hardly therefore have been for that purpose. I have since thought it was a movement of the eye, and a prognostic of what followed soon after. The Alderman then took up a knife and fork to carve the venison; he was particulary partial to the white vein, and had scarcely plunged the steel into the juicy and smoking joint, with his usual adroitness, when he fetched a deep groan, and dropping the carving implements, though his eye still remained fixed on the incision he had made, he endeavoured to articulate but was unable, Water was instantly brought him, but he made a sign of his aversion to it, not having drank any for many years; but on offering some Madeira, he tasted about a spoonful, gave a second groan, his eyes still fixed upon the venison, and ceased to exhibit signs of life. He was carried out of the hall and bled, but life was extinct. Thus expired this worthy citizen, in the sixty-third year of his age, ripe in wealth and civic honours. In his will he desired to be buried as near as possible to the Guildhall, and bequeathed 500/ to the Cook's and Vintner's Companies, towards new modelling their dinner plate; of the former of these companies he had long been the brightest ornament.

HOPE.

There is a flame that flits before

The wanderer o'er a lonely land,
A fitful gloom, that oft eludes
The grasp of the extended hand.
A vapoury flame, whose luring ray
Of dancing light,

Seen through the night,
Cheers the faint traveller on his way.
Such is hope's inspiring gleam,

That cheers our chequered earthly home, Whose luring and enticing beam,

Still wafts before where'er we roam,
And glads the heart with its bright ray
Of light so dear,

Yet of when near
We think we grasp-it fades away.

LONDON AND PARISIAN FASHIONS.

FROM A VARIETY OF THE MOST AUTHENTIC SOURCES,
INCLUDING COPIOUS EXTRACTS FROM

"Le Petit Courrier des Dames"-"Journal de Paris et des Modes, L'Observateur des Modes et L'Indiscret"- "Le Follet Courrier des Salons"-" Le Mercure des Salons," &c. &c.

DRESSES. The old style of wearing the dress caught up at the bottom of the skirt, is now very much adopted, and is very generally becoming.

With the season for balls, routes, assemblies, &c. will be introduced the long catalogue of jewellery, which is used in profusion in every possible shape; nœuds, clasps, and bouquets of precious stones of every imaginable hue, are disposed on every part of the dress where they can be introduced, on the corsage, on the wrisbands, and down the open dress, to unite it the whole length.

A plain satin dress, of a very delicate azure blue, had a very pretty effect on a pretty blonde: the folds appeared, from the effect of the light, to be silvered; two garlands of flowers appeared in front; with much green foliage, which contrasted very prettily with the tint of the dress.

A green Chinese velvet dress, made low, with short sleeves, in imitation blond, embroidered in white silk, with designs in spiral columns, the wrist of velvet, and made in a very antique style, had a remarkable but elegant effect. A white gauze turban, adorned with precious stones, and a white gauze scarf, completed the toilette.

Another azure blue satin dress was worthy of notice; it was made as a redingote, ornamented with openwork brandebourgs, partially black: cap, with China pinks and snow-drops: a pelerine, very ample, and with long ends of English lace: a single gold bracelet, of dead gold, set with turquoise, encircled one wrist.

For evening, a gauze dress, decorated with rich embroidery, bordered with satin piping and blond lace, terminating en pointe at the ceinture with a blond ornament, attached by nœuds to the top of the corsage, had a very good effect; the skirt may be caught up by a bouquet of ribbons or of precious stones.

A rose-coloured satin dress, worked in silver, was united by clasps of opal and diamond, on a black enamelled ground, surrounded by a little Gothic design in gold, between each were crevés of blond. Blond figuring mantilla, was retained at the shoulders by similar clasps as the one above described, and the folds across the bust were similarly held at the middle and on each side.

A black satin dress, rather low, with short sleeves, and blond sabots, had an elegantly cut corsage en pointe, bordered with silk piping; the skirt as well as the corsage, was richly embroidered; the ceinture was united by a beatifully chased clasp, of dead gold, intermixed with bright steel, which set off the dress to great advantage. A plain massive gold chain encircled the neck, and the toilette was completed by a small sprig of white roses springing from the hair, dressed plainly in nœuds and side-curls.

A rose-coloured dress was ornamented down the side of the skirt by a line of nœuds, formed of two coques

On the

of rose-coloured ribbon and diamond épis: sleeve, a similar nœud, with floating ends: a blond mantilla, behind the corsage, and draped before.

HATS, CAPS, &c.-A little elegant Parisian hat, called Camargo, from its coquettish elegance and becoming irregularity, seems to be in a fair way to gain a high reputation.

A blond cap, arranged with extreme lightness, and very far back from the forehead, had a very aerial appearance; from beneath it a few light sprigs of flowers depended gracefully on the face, so as to suit the contour of the features.

Velvet hats, both plain and spangled, are much adorned with bouquets; flowers, when worn, may be best placed under the front of the hat.

The front is high, and very close to the face.

A little blonde ornament, mixed with ribbon roses, is a singular but elegant union.

Turbans, which may be varied iu their style, so infinitely, as to suit almost any cast of features, are at present in as high favour as they have ever been. They assume, the Jewish, the Grecian, or the Turkish form, according to the taste of the wearer; and cachmere, muslin, gauze, or even lace, by the same rule, or rather latitude, are indiscriminately adopted.

An aerial net, interwoven with a rich satin, and forming a most elegant and fairy-like turban, was much admired at a late soirée.

VARIETIES.-Jewellery, and gold ornaments in general, now worn profusely, is, as to the individual articles, on a small scale; neck chain thin and delicate, bracelets narrow, the clasps of the ceinture not loaded with ornaments.

The little ring, suspended by a slight chain from the bracelet is much in favour.

Brooches are made with opals, pearls, or little diamonds, on a black foundation,, and often of the whole intermixed.

Ear-rings are very much worn in the Gothic style, long, and frequently in a diamond form.

Cameos in bracelets are still in great repute,—they are set in black or in gold.

An elegant kind of bracelet is formed of a fine gold chain turned several times round the wrist, and falling irregularly on the arm or hand.

Gold circles are much used for bandeaux on the forehead, but more adorned than in the previous season. Many are punctured with a narrow tracing of flowers, or any light fanciful design. Magnificent jewels often adorn them, a large opal is frequently surrrounded by rubies or diamonds; a flower is sometimes admirably imitated by differently coloured precious stones, or diamonds; a bird is sometimes represented, this species of ornament, in short, takes a prominent place among the most modest embellishments: they have the advantage of being made to correspond with great facility, to the coiffure in its different varieties.

MATERIALS AND COLOURS:-The satin du Serail for concerts and toilettes is in vogue.

Also the Aba satin, worked colour over colour, and with flowers as well, of various shades.

The satin demi-fonds, for promenade toilettes, is very much in use.

The same colours prevail as we have before cited, and not many exceptions can be named to the prevalent materials of the last two months.