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King. No, my good fellow. So far from having any thing to pardon, I am much your debtor. I cannot think but so good and honest a man, will make a worthy and honorable knight. Rise, Sir John Cockle, and receive this sword as a badge of knighthood, and a pledge of my protection ; and to support your nobility, and in some measure requite you for the pleasure you have done us, a thousand crowns a year shall be

your revenue.

SELECTION XII.

OLLAPODSIR CHARLES CROPLAND.- --Colman.

to your

Ollapod. Sir Charles, I have the honor to be your slave. Hope your health is good. Been a hard winter here--Sore throats were plenty : so were woodcocks. Flushed four couple, one morning in a half-mile walk from our town, to cure Mrs. Quarles of a quinsy. May coming on soon, Sir Charles. Hope you come to sojourn. Should'nt be always on the wing—that's being too flighty. Do you take, good sir, do you take ?

Sir Charles. Oh, yes, I take. But by the cockade in your hat, Ollapod, you have added lately, it seems, avocations.

Olla. My dear Sir Charles, I have now the honor to be cornet in the volunteer association corps of our town. It fell out unexpected-pop on a sudden ; like the going-off of a fieldpiece, or an alderman in an apoplexy.

Sir C. Explain.

Olla. Happening to be at home-rainy day-no going out to sport, blister, shoot, nor bleed--was busy behind the counter. -You know my shop, Sir Charles-Galen's head over the door. -new-gilt him last week, by the by—looks as fresh as a pill.

Sir Č. Well, no more on that head now-proceed. Olla. On that head! That's very well, very well indeed! Thank you, good sir-I owe you one. Churchwarden Posh, of our town, being ill of an indigestion, from eating three pounds of measly pork, at a vestry dinner, I was making up a cathartic for the patient; when, who should strut into the shop, but Lieutenant Grains, the brewer-sleek as a dray-horse-in a smart scarlet jacket, tastily turned up with a rhubarb-colored lapel. I confess his figure struck me. I looked at him, as I was thumping the mortar, and felt instantly inoculated with a mili

Sir C. Inoculated! I hope your ardor was of a very favorable sort.

Olla. Ha! ha! That's very well-very well, indeed! Thank you, good sir-I owe you one. We first talked of

tary ardor.

shooting-he knew my celebrity that way, Sir Charles. I told him, the day before, I had killed six brace of birds—I thumped on at the mortar-We then talked of physic—I told him, the day before, I had killed-lost, I mean-six brace of patients I thumped on at the mortar-eyeing him all the while ; for he looked mighty flashy, to be sure ; and I felt an itching to belong to the corps. The medical, and military, both deal in death, you know—so 'twas natural. Do you take, good sir—do you

take? Sir C. Take? Oh, nobody can miss.

Olla. He then talked of the corps itself ; said it was sickly; and if a professional person would administer to the health of the association-dose the men, and drench the horse—he could, perhaps, procure him a cornetcy.

Sir C. Well, you jumped at the offer!

Olla. Jumped! I jumped over the counter-kicked down churchwarden Posh's cathartic into the pocket of lieutenant Grain's smart scarlet jacket, tastily turned up with a rhubarbcolored lapel; embraced him and his offer, and I am now cornet Ollapod, apothecary, at the Galen's Head, of the association corps of cavalry, at your service.

Sir C. I wish you joy of your appointment. You may now distill water for the shop, from the laurels you gather in the field.

Olla. Water for-Oh! laurel-water. Come, that's very well -very well, indeed!

Thank you, good sir,-I owe you one. Why, I fancy fame will follow, when the poison of a small mistake I made, has ceased to operate.

Sir C. A mistake?

Olla. Having to attend Lady Kitty Carbuncle on a grand field day, clapped a pint bottle of her ladyship’s diet drink into one of my holsters ; intending to proceed to the patient, after the exercise was over. I reached the martial ground, and jalaped-galloped, I mean-wheeled and flourished with great eclat; but when the word “fire' was given, meaning to pull out my pistol, in a horrible hurry, I presented, neck foremost, the villanous diet drink of Lady Kitty Carbuncle; and the medicine being unfortunately fermented by the jolting of my horse, it forced out the cork with a prodigious pop, full in the face of my gallant commander.

Sir C. But in the midst of so many pursuits, how proceeds practice among the ladies ? Any new faces since I left the country?

Olla. Nothing worth an item-Nothing new arrived in our town. In the village, to be sure, hard by, Miss Emily Worthington, a most brilliant beauty, has lately given lustre to the estate of Farmer Harrowby.

Sir C. My dear doctor, the lady of all others I wish most to know. Introduce yourself to the family, and pave the way for me. Come! mount your horse-I'll explain more as you go to the stable :—but I am in a flame, in a fever, till I see you off.

Olla. In a fever! I'll send you physic enough to fill a baggage wagon.

Sir C. (Aside.) So! a long bill as the price of his politeness!

Olla. You need not bleed; but you must have medicine.

Sir C. If I must have medicine, Ollapod, I fancy I shall bleed pretty freely.

Olla. Come, that's very well! very well indeed! Thank you, good sir-I owe you one. Before dinner, a strong dose of coloquintida, senna, scammony, and gamboge ;

Sir C. Oh, confound scammony and gamboge!

Olla. At night a narcotic; next day, saline draughts, camphorated jalap, and

Sir C. Zounds! only go, and I'll swallow your whole shop.

Olla. Galen forbid ! 'Tis enough to kill every customer I have in the parish !—Then we'll throw in the bark—by the by, talking of bark, Sir Charles, that Juno of yours is the prettiest pointer

Sir C. Well, well, she is yours.

Olla. My dear Sir Charles ! such sport next shooting season! If I had but a double-barreled gun

Sir C. Take mine that hangs in the hall.

Olla. My dear Sir Charles ! -Here's morning's work; senna and coloquintida—(A side.)

Sir C. Well, begone, then. (Pushing him.)
Olla. I'm off-Scammony and gamboge.
Sir C. Nay, fly, man!

Olla. I do, Sir Charles-A double-barreled gun-I flythe bark—I'm going—Juno-a narcotic,

Sir C. Off with you!

SELECTION XIII.

OLD FICKLE-TRISTRAM FICKLE.

-Allingham. Old Fickle. What reputation, what honor, what profit can accrue to you, from such conduct as yours? One moment you tell me you are going to become the greatest musician in the world, and straight you fill my

house with fiddlers. Tristram. I am clear out of that scrape now, sir.

Old F. Then, from a fiddler, you are metamorphosed into a philosopher; and for the noise of drums, trumpets, and hautboys, you substitute a vile jargon, more unintelligible than was ever heard at the Tower of Babel.

Tri. You are right, sir. I have found out that philosophy is folly; so I have cut the philosophers of all sects, from Plato and Aristotle, down to the puzzlers of modern date.

Old F. How much had I to pay the cooper, the other day, for barreling you up in a large tub, when you resolved to live like Diogenes?

Tri. You should not have paid him any thing, sir, for the tub would not hold. You see the contents are run out.

Old F. No jesting, sir; this is no laughing matter. Your follies have tired me out. I verily believe you have taken the whole round of arts and sciences in a month, and have been of fifty different minds in half an hour.

Tri. And, by that, shown the versatility of my genius.

Old F. Don't tell me of versatility, sir. Let me see a little steadiness. You have never yet been constant to any thing but extravagance.

Tri. Yes, sir, one thing more
Old F. What is that, sir?

Tri. Affection for you. However my head may have wandered, my heart has always been constantly attached to the kindest of parents; and from this moment, I am resolved to lay my follies aside, and pursue that line of conduct which will be most pleasing to the best of fathers and of friends.

Old F. Well said, my boy, well said! You make me happy indeed. (Patting him on the shoulder.) Now then, my dear Tristram, let me know what you really mean to do.

Tri. To study the law-
Old F. The law!
Tri. I am most resolutely bent on following that profession.
Old F. No!
Tri. Absolutely and irrevocably fixed.

Old F. Better and better; I am overjoyed. Why, 'tis the very thing I wished. Now I am happy. (Tristram makes gestures as if speaking.) See how his mind is engaged !

Tri. Gentlemen of the jury:-
Old F. Why Tristram-
Tri. This is a cause-

Old F. Oh, my dear boy! I forgive you all your tricks, , I see something about you now that I can depend on. (Tristram continues making gestures.)

Tri. I am for the plaintiff in this cause

Old F. Bravo! bravo! excellent boy! I'll go and order your books directly.

Tri. 'Tis done, sir.
Old F. What, already?

Tri. I ordered twelve square feet of books, when I first thought of embracing the arduous profession of the law.

Old F. What, do you mean to read by the foot ? Tri. By the foot, sir; that is the only way to become a solid lawyer.

Old F. Twelve square feet of learning !-Well-
Tri. I have likewise sent for a barber-

Old F. A barber !—What! is he to teach you to shave close ?

Tri. He is to shave one half of my head, sir.

Old F. You will excuse me, if I cannot perfectly understand what that has to do with the study of the law.

Tri. Did you never hear of Demosthenes, sir, the Athenian orator? He had half his head shaved, and locked himself up in a al-cellar.

Old F. Ah! he was perfectly right to lock himself up, after having undergone such an operation as that. He certainly would have made rather an odd figure abroad.

Tri. I think I see him now, awaking the dormant patriotism of his countrymen-lightning in his eye, and thunder in his voice-he pours forth a torrent of eloquence, resistless in its force—the throne of Philip trembles while he speaks—he denounces, and indignation fills the bosom of his hearers—he exposes the impending danger, and every one sees impending ruin-he threatens the tyrant, they grasp their swords—he calls for vengeance, their thirsty weapons glitter in the air, and thousands reverberate the cry. One soul animates a nation, and that soul is the soul of the orator.

Old F. Oh! what a figure he'll make in the King's Bench! -But, come, I will tell you now what my plan is, and then you will see how happily this determination of yours will further it. You have (Tristram makes extravagant gestures, as if speaking.) often heard me speak of my friend Briefwit, the barrister

Tri. Who is against me in this cause-
Old F. He is a most learned lawyer
Tri. But as I have justice on my side-

Old F. Zounds! he doesn't hear a word I say!Why, Tristram!

Tri. I beg your pardon, sir ; I was prosecuting my studies. Old F. Now attend

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