he was explaining to Titmouse the various remedies he had against the Bond Street Impostor, both by indictment and action on the case; nay, (getting a little, however, beyond his depth,) he assured the eager Titmouse, that a bill of discovery would lie in equity, to ascertain what the Titaragmenon Abracadabra was composed of, with a view to an indictment against its owner - when his learned display was interrupted by a double knock, and-oh! - enter Mr Gammon. Whether he or Snap felt more disconcerted, I cannot say; but Snap looked the most confused and sneaking. Each told the other a lie, in as easy, good-natured a way as he could assume, concerning the object of his visit to Titmouse. Thus they were going on, when-another knock-and, "Is this Mr Titmouse's?" enquired a voice, which brought a little colour into the face of both Gammon and Snap3; for it was absolutely old Quirk, who bustled breathless into the room, on his first visit, and seemed completely confounded by the sight of both his partners. What with this, and the amazing appearance presented by Titmouse, Mr Quirk was so overwhelmed that he scarce spoke a syllable. Each of the three partners felt (in his own way) exquisite embarrassment. Huckaback some time afterwards made his appearance, but him Titmouse unceremoniously dismissed in a twinkling, in spite of a vehement remonstrance. But presently, behold another arrival -Mr Tag-rag, who had come to announce that his carriage, (i. e. a queer, rickety, little one-horse chaise, with a tallow-faced boy in it, in faded livery,) was waiting to convey Mr Titmouse to Satin Lodge, and take him a long drive in the country! Each of these four worthies could have spit in the other's face; first, for de tecting, and secondly, for rivalling him in his schemes upon Titmouse. A few minutes after the arrival of Tag-rag, Gammon, half choked with disgust, and despising himself even more than his fellow-visiters, slunk off, followed almost immediately by Quirk, who was dying to consult him on this new aspect of affairs which had presented itself. Snap (who, ever since the arrival of Messrs Quirk and Gammon, had felt like an ape on hot irons) very shortly followed in the footsteps of his

partners, having made no engagement whatever with Titmouse; and thus the enterprising and determined Tagrag was left master of the field. He had in fact come to do business; and business he determined to do. As for Gammon, during the short time he had stayed, how he had endeared himself to Titmouse, by explaining, not Lexp aware that Titmouse had confessed all to Snap, the singular change in the colour of his hair to have been ocсаsioned simply by the intense mental anxiety through which he had lately passed! The anecdotes he told of sufferers, whose hair a single night's agony had changed to all the colours of the rainbow! Though Tag-rag out-stayed all his fellow-visiters, in the manner which has been described, he could not prevail upon Titmouse to accompany him in his "carriage," for Titmouse pleaded a pressing engagement, (i. e. a desperate attempt he purposed making to obtain some ink,) but pledged himself to make his appearance at Satin Lodge at the appointed hour, (half-past three for four o'clock.) Away, therefore, drove Tag-rag, delighted that Satin Lodge would so soon contain so resplendent a visiter-indignant at the cringing, sycophantic attentions of Messrs Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, against whom he resolved to put Titmouse on his guard, and infinitely astonished at the extraordinary change that had taken place in the colour of Titmouse's hair. Partly influenced by the explanation which Gammon had given of the phenomenon, Tag-rag resigned himself to feelings of simple wonder. Titmouse was doubtless passing through stages of physical transmogrification, corresponding with the marvellous change that was taking place in his circumstances; - and for all he (Tag-rag) knew, other and more extraordinary changes were going on; Titmouse might be growing at the rate of halfan inch a-day, and soon stand before him a man more than six feet high! Considerations such as these invested Titmouse with intense and overpowering interest in the estimation of Tagrag; how could he make enough of him at Satin Lodge that day? If ever that hardened sinner felt inclined to utter an inward prayer, it was as he drove home that Heaven would array his daughter in angel hues to the eyes of Titmouse!

My friend Tittlebat made his appearance at the gate of Satin Lodge, at about a quarter to four o'clock. Good gracious, how he had dressed himself out! He considerably exceeded his appearance when first presented to the reader.

Miss Tag-rag had been before her glass ever since the instant of her return from chapel, up to within ten minutes' time of Titmouse's arrival. An hour and a half at least had she bestowed on her hair, disposing it in little corkscrew and somewhat scanty curls, that quite glistened in bear's grease, hanging on each side of a pair of lean and sallow cheeks. The colour which ought to have distributed itself over her cheeks, in roseate delicacy, had thought fit to collect itself into the tip of her sharp little nose. Her small grey eyes beamed with the gentle and attractive expression that was perceptible in her father's, and her projecting under lip reminded every body of that delicate feature in her mother. She was very short, and her figure rather skinny and angular. She wore her lilac-coloured frock; her waist being pinched in to a degree that made you think of a fit of the colic when you looked at her. A long red sash, tied in a most elaborate bow, gave a very brilliant air to her dress generally. She had a thin gold chain round her neck, and wore long white gloves; her left hand holding a pocket-handkerchief, which she had suffused with bergamotte that scented the whole room. Mrs

Tag-rag had made herself very splendid, in a red silk gown and staring head-dress. As for Mr Tag-rag, whenever he was dressed in his Sunday clothes, he looked the model of a dissenting minister; in his black coat, waistcoat, and trousers, and primly. tied white neckerchief, with no shirtcollar visible. For a quarter of an hour had this interesting trio been standing at their parlour window, in anxious expectation of Titmouse's arrival; their only amusement being the numberless dusty stage-coaches driving every five minutes close past their gate, (which was about ten yards from their house,) at once enlivening and ruralizing the scene. Oh, that poor laburnum-laden with dust, drooping with drought, and evidently in the very last stage of a decline that was planted beside the little gate! Tag-rag spoke of cutting it down; but Mrs and Miss

Tag-rag begged its life a little longer

The

and then that subject dropped. How was it that, though both the ladies had sat under a thundering discourse from Mr Dismal Horror that morning - they had never once since thought or spoke of him or his sermon-never even opened his "Groans ?" reason was plain. They thought of Titmouse, who was bringing "airs from heaven;" while Horror brought only "blasts from hell" and those they had every day in the week, (his sermons on the Sunday, his "Groans" on the week-day.) At length Miss Tag-rag's little heart fluttered violently, for her papa told her that Titmouse was coming up the road-and so he was. Not dreaming that he could be seen, he stood beside the gate for a moment, under the melancholy laburnum; and, taking a dirty-looking silk handkerchief out of his hat, slapped it vigorously about his boots, (from which circumstance it may be inferred that he had walked,) and replaced it in his hat. Then he unbuttoned his surtout, adjusted it nicely, and disposed his chain and eyeglass just so as to let the tip only of the latter be seen peeping out of his waistcoat; twitched up his collars, plucked down his wrist-bands, drew the tip of a white pocket-handkerchief out of the pocket in the breast of his surtout, pulled a white glove halfway on his left hand; and, having thus given the finishing touches to his toilet, opened the gate, and-Tittlebat Titmouse, Esquire, the great guest of the day, for the first time in his life (swinging a little ebony cane about with careless grace) entered the domain of Mr Tag-rag.

The little performance I have been describing, though every bit of it passing under the eyes of Tag-rag, his wife, and his daughter, had not excited a smile; their anxious feelings were too deep to be reached or stirred by light emotions. Miss Tag-rag turned very pale and trembled.

" La, pa," said she faintly, "how could you say he'd got white eyebrows and whiskers? They're a beautiful black."

Tag-rag was speechless: the fact was so for Titmouse bad, fortunately, obtained a little bottle of ink. As Titmouse approached the house, (Tagrag hurrying out to open the door for him,) he saw the two ladies standing at the windows. Off went his hat, and out dropped the silk handkerchief, not a little disconcerting him for the moment. Tag-rag, however, soon occupied his attention at the door with anxious civilities, shaking him by the hand, hanging up his hat and stick, and then introducing him to the sitting-room. The ladies received him with most profound curtseys, which Titmouse returned with a quick embarrassed bow, and an indistinct_" I hope you're well, mem!"

If they had had presence of mind enough to observe it, the purple colour of Titmouse's hair must have surprised them not a little; all they could see, however, was-the angelic owner of ten thousand a-year.

The only person tolerably at his ease, and he only tolerably, was Mr Tag-rag; and he asked his guest

"Wash your hands, Titmouse, before dinner?" But Titmouse said he had washed them before he had come out. [The day was hot, and he had walked five miles at a slapping pace.] In a few minutes, however, he felt a little more assured; for it was impossible for him not to perceive the awful deference with which he was treated. "Seen the Sunday Flash, mem?" said he, modestly, addressing Mrs Tag-rag.

"I-I-no-that is not to-day," she replied, colouring.

"Vastly amusing, isn't it?" interposed Tag-rag, to prevent mischieffor he knew his wife would as soon have taken a cockatrice into her hand. "Ye-e-s," replied Titmouse, who had not even glanced at the copy which Snap had brought him. "An uncommon good fight between Birmingham Big"

Tag-rag saw his wife getting redder and redder. " No news stirring about Ministers, is there?" said he, with a desperate attempt at a diversion.

"Not that I have heard," replied Titmouse. Soon he got a little further, and said how cheerful the stages going past must make the house. Tagrag agreed with him. Then there was a little pause.

"Been to church, mem, this morning, mem?" timidly enquired Titmouse of Miss Tag-rag.

" Yes, sir," she replied, faintly colouring, casting her eyes to the ground, and suddenly putting her hand into that of her mother-with such an innocent, engaging simplicity-like a timid

fawn lying as close as possible to its dam!

"We always go to chapel, sir," said Mrs Tag-rag, confidently, in spite of a very fierce look from her husband; "the gospel isn't preached in the Church of England. We sit under Mr Horror - a heavenly preacher! You've heard of Mr Horror?"

"Yes, mem! Oh, yes! Capital preacher!" replied Titmouse, who of course (being a true churchman) had never in his life heard of Mr Horror, or any other dissenter.

"When will dinner be ready, Mrs T.?" enquired Tag-rag, abruptly, and with a very perceptible dash of sternness in his tone; but dinner was announced the very next moment. He took his wife's arm, and, in doing so, gave it a sudden vehement pressure, which, coupled with a furious glance, explained to her the extent to which she had incurred his anger. She thought, however, of Mr Horror, and was silent.

Titmouse's proffered arm the timid Miss Tag-rag scarcely touched with the tip of her finger, as she walked beside him to dinner. Titmouse soon got tolerably composed and cheerful at dinner, (which consisted of a little piece of nice roast beef, with plenty of horse-radish, Yorkshire pudding, a boiled fowl, a plum-pudding made by Mrs Tag-rag, and custards which had been superintended by Miss Tagrag,) and, to oblige his hospitable host and hostess, eat till he was fit to burst. Miss Tag-rag, though really very hungry, eat only a very small slice of beef, and a quarter of a custard, and drank a third of a glass of sherry after dinner. She never once spoke, except in hurried answers to her papa and mamma; and, sitting exactly opposite Titmouse, (with only a plate of greens and a boiled fowl between them,) was continually colouring whenever their eyes happened to encounter one another, on which occasion hers would suddenly drop, as if overpowered by the brilliance of his. Titmouse began to love her very fast. After the ladies had withdrawn, you should have heard the way that Tag-rag

went on with Titmouse - I can liken

the two to nothing but an old fat spider, and a little fly.

"Will you come into my parlour?
Said the spider to the fly;"

and it might have been well for Titmouse to have answered, in the language of the aforesaid fly :

"No, thank you, sir, I really feel
No curiosity."

Titmouse, however, swallowed with equal facility Mr Tag-rag's hard port and his soft blarney; but all fools have large swallows. When at length Tag-rag alluded to the painfully evident embarrassment of his "poor Tabby," and said he had "now

found out what had been so long the matter with her," [ay, even this went down,] and hemmed, and winked his eye, and drained his glass, Titmouse began to get flustered, blushed, and hoped Mr Tag-rag would soon "join the ladies." They did so, (Tag-rag stopping behind to lock up the wine and the remains of the fruit.) Miss Tag-rag presided over the tea things. There were muffins, and crumpets, and reeking-hot buttered toast; Mrs Tag-rag would hear of no denial, so poor Titmouse, after the most desperate resistance, was obliged to swallow a round of toast, half a muffin, and an entire crumpet, and four cups of hot tea; after which he felt a very painful degree of turgidity, and a conviction that he should be able to eat and drink nothing more for the remainder of the week.

After the tea things had been removed, Tag-rag, directing Titmouse's attention to the piano, which was open, (with some music on it, ready to be played from,) asked him whether he liked music. Titmouse, with great eagerness, hoped Miss T. would give them some music; and she, after hold ing out a long and vigorous siege, at length asked her papa what it should be.

"The Battle of Prague," said her papa. "Before Jehovah's awful throne," hastily interposed her mamma.

"The Battle," sternly repeated her papa.

"It's Sunday night, Mr T.," meekly rejoined his wife.

"Which will you have, Mr Titmouse?" enquired Tag-rag, with The Battle of Prague written in every feature of his face. Titmouse almost burst into a state of perspiration.

"A little of both, sir, if you please."

"Well," replied Tag-rag, slightly relaxing, " that will do. Split the difference-eh? Come, Tab, down

with you. Titmouse, will you turn over the music for her?"

a rate

So

a

and

Titmouse rose, and having sheepishly taken his station beside Miss Tagrag, the performances commenced with Before Jehovah's awful throne ! But, mercy upon us! at what she rattled over that " pious air." If its respectable composer had been present, he must have gone into a fit; but there was no help for it-the heart of the lovely performer was in The Battle of Prague, to which she presently did most ample justice. much were her feelings engaged in that sublime composition, that the bursting of one of the strings-twang! in the middle of the "cannonading," did not at all disturb her; and, as soon as she had finished the exquisite "finale," Titmouse was in such tumult of excitement, from different causes, that he could have shed tears. Though he had never once turned over at the right place, Miss Tag-rag thanked him for his services with a smile of infinite sweetness. Titmouse vowed he had never heard such splendid music-begged for more; away went Miss Tag-rag, hurried away by her excitement. Rondo af ter rondo, march after march, for at least half an hour; at the end of which old Tag-rag suddenly kissed her with passionate fondness. Though Mrs Tag-rag was horrified at the impiety of all this, she kept a very anxious eye on the young couple, and interchanged with her husband, every now and then, very significant looks. Shortly after nine, spirits, wine, and hot and cold water, were brought in. At the sight of them Titmouse looked alarmed_ for he knew that he must take something more, though he would have freely given five shillings to be excused-for he felt as if he could not hold one drop more. But it was in vain. Willy-nilly, a glass of gin and water stood soon before him; he protested he could not touch it unless Miss Tag-rag would "take something"whereupon, with a blush, she "thought she would" take a wine glassful of sherry and water. This was provided her. Then Tag-rag mixed a tumbler of port-wine negus for Mrs Tag-rag, and a great glass of mahogany-coloured brandy and water for himself; and then he looked round, and felt perfectly happy. As Titmouse advanced with his gin and water, his spirits got higher and

higher, and his tongue more fluent. He once or twice dropped the " Mr," when addressing Tag-rag; several times smiled, and once even winkedat the embarrassed Miss Tag-rag. Mr Tag-rag saw it, and could not control himself for he had got to the end of his first glass of brandy and water, and mixed himself a second, quite as strong as the former.

"Tab! ah, Tab! what has been the matter with you all these months?" -and he winked his eye at her and then at Titmouse.

"Papa!" exclaimed Miss Tag-rag, blushing up to her very temples.

"Ah, Titmouse - Titmouse-give me your hand," said Tag-rag; "you'll forget us all when you're a great man -but we shall always remember you." "You're very good-very!" said Titmouse, cordially returning the pressure of Tag-rag's hand. At that instant, it suddenly occurred to him to adopt the suggestion of Mr Gammon. Tag-rag was going on very fast, indeed, about the disinterested nature of his feelings towards Titmouse-towards whom, he said, he had always felt just as he did at that moment 'twas in vain to deny it.

"I'm sure your conduct shows it, sir," commenced Titmouse, feeling a shudder like that with which a timid bather approaches the margin of the cold stream. "I could have taken my oath, sir, you would have refused to let me come into your house, when you heard of it".

ly interrupted Tag-rag, inwardly cursing his wife, who, tinding she always went wrong in her husband's eyes whenever she spoke a word, determined for the future to stick to her negus" the fact is, there's a Mr Horror here that's for sending all decent people to --. He's filled my wife there with all sorts of nay, if she isn't bursting with cantso never mind her. You done any thing wrong! You're a pattern!"

"Well-I'm a happy man again," resumed Titmouse, resolved now to go on.--" And when did they tell you of it, sir?"

"Oh, a few days ago-a week ago," replied Tag-rag, trying to recollect. "Why-why-sir-ain't you mistaken?" enquired Titmouse, with a depressed, but at the same time a surprised air. "It only happened this morning, after you left."

"Eh-eh-ah, ha!- What do you mean, Mr Titmouse?" interrupted Tag-rag, with a sickening attempt at a smile. Mrs Tag-rag and Miss Tagrag also turned exceedingly startled faces towards Titmouse, who felt as if a house were going to fall down on him.

"Why, sir "-he began to cry, (an attempt which was greatly aided by the maudlin condition to which drink had reduced him,) - " till to-day, I thought I was heir to ten thousand a-year-and it seems I'm not-it's all a mistake."

Tag-rag's face changed visibly; it was getting frightful to look at; the inward shock and agony were forcing out on his slanting forehead great drops of perspiration.

"What-a-capital-joke- MrTitmouse!" he gasped, drawing his handkerchief over his forehead. Titmouse, though greatly alarmed, stood to his gun pretty steadily.

"I-I wish it was a joke! It's been no joke to me, sir. There's another Tittlebat Titmouse, it seems, in Shoreditch, that's the right"

"Who told you this, sir?-Pho, I don't-I can't believe it," said Tag-rag, in a voice tremulous between suppressed rage and fear.

"True, 'pon my life, It is ".

"How dare you swear before the ladies? You're insulting them, sir!" -almost roared Tag-rag. "You're not a gentleman." He suddenly dropped his voice, and, in a trem