miserable people had bestowed upon him) Trotter visited, and they received his last at different times unknown to one another sigh. He had nothing else to give them, Costly gifts from the old Graspalls, which as it turned out; for he had sunk the whole it must have made their hearts ache to of his property in a Life Annuity.. purchase; a walking-stick with a gold handle from the elder son; a snuff-box from the younger; a Wordsworth elegantly bound (a pig would have been better pleased with a pear!) from one of the young ladies; and even a box of pills, with a pious hope that they would do dearest uncle good," from the very smallest Graspall. Our Spare Room was now once more in our hands, and began to invite our dear friends from the country like an Inn Signboard at an election-time. Then Miving and I determined upon a line of defence that should be impregnable; we came to the conclusion to let Lodgings to Single Gentlemen. This was inconvenient-but so, probably, is the shell of the tortoise; What I disliked most in the old gentle- it was undignified-but so is digging a man was his chuckling over these pres- rifle-pit in the presence of an enemy; it ents, and turning into ridicule their unfor- had, however, the advantage of insuring tunate donors; but besides his behavior in safety. It was a conclusive reply to all this respect, Uncle Trotter was quite un-persons inviting themselves to No. 1, Vanbearable. In the first place, his habits deleur Terrace, that "circumstances over were so unpleasant that, rather than have which we had no control" (and I never him live with us, I would have preferred wrote a truer sentence) had compelled that Cousin Dick's terrier should have oc- us to let our Spare Room.". Then I took cupied our Spare Room for a permanency, counsel with my old friend, Mrs. Brown, of and even brought up there that family of the Edgeware Road-Lucy Gill as was puppies of whose arrival I was in agonized when I was Martha Trivet—who, being in expectation throughout her stay. Then reduced. circumstances, had commenced the trouble he gave us was something in- the "Furnished Apartment" business two credible; the Spare Room bell was always or three years ago, and after several misringing, and meals being eaten there at all adventures, pertaining, I suppose, to all hours except those at which the rest of the commencements, was succeeding in it to a household were accustomed to take them. marvel. Success was not so much our ob He smoked unceasingly, too, and upon one ject as security; we wanted a lodger, not occasion threatened to light his pipe with as a means of livelihood, but simply as a the fly-catcher, because lucifers were garrison. There was therefore very little brought to him for that purpose in place doubt that we should be easily suited. of wax-lights. An Angel in the House, as "But don't take very young gentlemen," a life-boarder, would, I believe, be unplea-said Mrs. Brown, "for such are often in sant to any married woman like myself; hiding from their relatives, and their relaspinsters may and do tolerate volunteer tives sometimes refuse to settle their bills companions under the same roof, but with us it is different-home is not home unless, for some portion of the year at least, we enjoy it, Darby-and-Joan fashion, with our husbands. Moreover, as I have hinted, Uncle Trotter was not an angel, but rather This advice seemed rather hard in Lucy the reverse. He left us, summarily, after (whom I remember all heart, or nearly so); a domestic fracas, the news of which de- but it was sound, so far as it went, and lighted all the family-both those who had founded upon practical experience. lodged and boarded him, and those who So we took the first middle-aged gentlehoped to lodge and board him. He re-man-Mr. Adolphus Conroy-who rang moved from our roof to that of the Lim- the front door bell with an eye to our pets, who had long been looking out for Spare Room. The apartment pleased him, that happy chance. They were even so the terms pleased him, my offer to cater fortunate as to be the last whom Uncle for him pleased him; and, in short, he ex upon their restoration to the domestic circle; and don't take very old gentlemen, for they sometimes decease in the house, and there is a difficulty in getting the parish to bury them." "No," returned I; "I have not. But then he says that little sums are so embarrassing, and that he would rather settle at the month's end." "Did he say that?" cried Mrs. Brown, in a state of great excitement. "O, the wretch? O, the base deceiver! Does he speak with a lisp, this Mr. Conroy? does he call little sums little thumbs? Pray tell me, for I'm all in a twitter." "Well," said I, "I'm sure I can't tell how you guessed it, Lucy; but certainly he has that peculiarity. Many persons of good condition have it, you know." "I'll condition him!" cried Lucy. "TH let him know that he sha'n't rob my helpless babes with impunity! That very man-I'm sure it's he-lodged with me just when I set up business ir. the letting line. His name was Somers then; but he had that same excuse about settling at the month's end. Jemima Anne, go and fetch a policeman." pressed himself—and in very appropriate Conroy as a "fellow!" but a hard life terms-as satisfied with everything. After makes one use hard words, I suppose: Uncle Trotter, almost any inmate would poor Lucy! have made a reasonable impression; but Mr. Conroy was really a pattern lodger. He was a little "high" in his manner to me; but, then, how could he know that I was not dependent upon his custom, like other landladies? Doubtless, thought I, he regards me as a harpy who will burn his coals and drink his tea, and lay the decrease of his butcher's meat to the account of the cat-so I was patient with his supereilious ways. He was really very nicelooking; he had, I must say, an aristocratic air about him very different from Mivinswho, however, is worth all the aristocrats in the world; his luggage was of great bulk, and very heavy; altogether, he was a sort of lodger one couldn't well help looking up to. His mode of life was all that could be desired. At about eleven A. ., he left the house, attired in the first style of fashion, and returned at seven to his dinner; after which he would smoke a couple of pipes, and then retire for the night. He never made a complaint of any sort, nor any observation upon the weekly bills, save one-that they were ridiculously cheap. Really, Mrs. Mivins," observed "Lucy Brown," exclaimed I," this shall he, at the end of the second week, "I cannot be. You may be all wrong from first not think how you manage; I couldn't to last. Now, the way to find out for cerkeep myself upon twice the money. You tain will be this: do you and Mr. Brown must really give me your receipt for such come and take tea with us this very eveneconomy." But he never asked me for my ing, and then you shall look through the receipt for his account, because he never keyhole of our Spare Room, and see paid it. That was the one drawback with whether our lodger is the same as your Mr. respect to my otherwise model lodger; he Somers." never offered to pay one sixpence either "Which if he is,, I'll baste him," obfor board or lodging. Being of a sensitive served Lucy, taking up a hearth-brush, and disposition, and unaccustomed to my new looking more formidable than I should calling, I did not like to press for a settle-ever have given her credit for. ment; but after the third week had passed I had never believed any of those stories without my receiving any remuneration about Mrs Brown's complete subjugation for a good deal of trouble and some con-of her husband until then. He was onc siderable expenses-for gin-punch with a sergeant-major in the army, and stands lemon was what he took of an evening, six feet three in his stocking-feet; still the and lemons are dear-I thought I'd go and power of a woman's eye is, I believe, alsee my professional adviser, Mrs. Brown. most inconceivable-although it was never necessary for me to use it with Mivins. "What!" says she, when I had confided to her my little difficulty, "you haven't seen the color of this fellow's money for three weeks?" The child thus addressed was about to start off delighted on this errand, but I set my back against the door. Well, they caine-these two-to Vandeleur Terrace; and before we sat down to tea, what do you think? I observed Fancy her speaking of Mr. Adelphus that there was something odd about Mrs. With these words, she threw open the door, and marched into our Spare Room, like a general taking possession. And she dropped her courtesy to him with the most cutting. courtesy you can imagine. Brown's dress, although crinoline does to do in our house; and he's reading the hide most things-she actually had that same volume of Byron's poems. I'lf Don hearth brush stuck through her pocket! Juan him." The law wouldn't right her, she said, so she was determined to right herself with the strong hand, in case my lodger was the man she anticipated. The sergeant "And how do you do, Mr. Somers, alias major was to stand in the passage, and see Mr. Adolphus Conroy, alias a number of that he made no resistance. I thought other fine names, I do not doubt? My this a most dreadful proposition, and in-'umble duty to you, my perfect gentle. sisted upon no such thing taking place in man." my house; but Mivins, I am sorry to say, opposed me point blank. He even sug gested that I, who had been wronged also by this gentleman, should assist Mrs. Brown, while he himself assisted the serI could not help coming a little way geant major in overawing the foe. I won-down the stairs to look at him. I never der what Aunt Bertha would have said saw any man so frightened in my life. had she heard him make such a proposal.! Mivins, under the idea of burglars, was How earnestly I hoped that my lodger quite a Julius Cæsar compared with him. would not come in that evening-would His eye wandered irresolutely from the never come back at all; or, better still, heartli-brush to the sergeant major, and lit that he would turn out to be the Mr. Adol- upon me at last with really quite a pitiful phus Conroy which his manners and ap- expression. pearance had always led me to expectthe personal description which Mrs. Brown had given of Mrs. Somers tallying so ac-me." curately with his own, however, that this last hope was very faint indeed. At 6.45, as usual, the unsuspecting man came home, and we could scarcely prevent the avenging female on the first floor from descending upon him forth with, when she recognized his voice and step. The sergeant major, however, represented to her how much sweeter her revenge would be if she waited till he had his slippers on, and his pipe alight, and he had made himself, as he fondly imagined, comfortable for the evening; so poor Mr. Adolphus Conroy dined in peace. At 8 P. M., the sergeant major and my husband softly de scended into the passage, and stood the one on one side, the other on the other of our spare room door. I remained on the stairs, with my heart going pit-a-pat, I can promise you, and wishing what was com ing was well over. The intrepid Lucy stooped down, and looked through the keyhole. "It's Somers," observed she, in a voice trembling with anticipated triumph; "it's the very man himself. He's got the horrid feet upon the mantel-shelf, just as he used "Oh, Mrs. Mivins," said he, "I never meant you any harm. Do pray protect "Oh, no harm at all," exclaimed my husband, presenting. our little account, carefully made up to the latest dates-"no harm at all, if you will settle that." "And this," added Mrs. Brown, droping another courtesy, and drawing forth a document of a similar nature. 1 have not got one single farthing," observed Mr. Adolphus Conroy, with desperation. * I draw a veil over what followed; indeed, I was so upset that I became entirely unconscious. When I recovered, the sentinels were still at their post; Mrs. Brown's color was rather heightened-her hearth brush was broken in two-my unfortunate lodger was sitting on the carpet of our Spare Room in a supplicatory atti tude. "If you will only spare me, my dear Mrs. Brown," cried he, "I have an uncle in town, who will repay you all, and more." "I daresay you have," replied she contemptuously. You have an uncle in every street.". "Yes, but this a regular one, this is,' urged he; "and 'he's very fond of his ne- That fall, when Memory softly leads me phew, I do assure you.' "Then he must have a very peculiar taste," quoth the sergeant major, sententiously. "He will pay you all ten times over," cried the poor wretch, rubbing his back. "I don't ask you to lose sight of me. Come with me to his house, Mrs, Brown, if you will not trust me." "Trust you!" exclaimed that lady, with the loftiest scorn. Nevertheless, since there was offered this scintilla of hope, sne put on her bonnet, and accompanied her victim into the street, notwithstanding the sergeant major's remonstrances. In about five minutes she returned alone; Mr. Somers, alias Conroy. had called a cab in the next street, and eseaped from the avenger. 66 'He got on the box," said she, "or I would have gone with him wherever he went. However, he's had something to remember me by, at least." per When we came to examine the bulky and ponderous baggage, it turned out to be brickbats. All that he had left of sonal property in our Spare Room-he having taken away all his fine clothes by degrees and unobserved-was a false cravat, called, I believe, a "Dundreary," and a little box full of ingenious instruments for forcing locks. back Into the sunshine of the bygone years. Waiting, darling, with a firm, unwav'ring faith, That never falters, tho' the path be dim, But trusting God and thee unto the end, Casts all the Future, with its cares, op Him. [From the Champion.] THE PILGRIMAGE OF POETS TO "Who now shall give unto me words and sound Equal unto this haughty enterprise?" SPENSER, B. 2 c. 10. I am one of those unfortunate youths to whom the muse has glanced a sparkling of her light-one of those who pant for distinction, but have not within them that immortal power which alone can command it. There are many-some, sir, may be known to you-who feel keenly and earnestly the eloquence of mind and heart in others, but who cannot, from some ina bility or unobtrusiveness, clearly express their own thoughts and feelings: whose The misfortune has put us rather out of lives are but long and silent dreams of roheart in respect to single gentlemen lodg-mantic pleasure and poetic wonderment Can any one tell us what is to be-who almost adore the matchless fancies ers. done with our Spare Room? WAITING! BY W. GORDON M'CABE. Waiting, darling, while the. sad years wear away, And plough still deeper furrows in my brow, of genuine bards-and love them as interpreters and guardians of those visionary delights which are the perpetual inmates of their bosoms. I love the poets: I live in the light of their fancies. It is my best delight to wander forth on summer evenings, when the air is fresh and clear, and the leaves of the trees are making musie with it, and the birds are busy with their wings, fluttering themselves to rest; and a brook is murmuring along almost inaudibly, and the sun is going quietly down-it My youth's aurora faded into Gray, Now. works of our best bards. Some time last year, I had roamed in an evening like to Waiting, darling, with my brave young one of those I have spoken of; and, after dwelling on the fairy beauties of Spenser, angel, Hope, 1 Who stoops to brush away the blinding and from thence passing to the poets of tears my own time, and comparing the latter In a little time I saw a motley crowd soon perceived hat they were each proadvancing confusedly to the stream. I with some that had gone before, I cast, heard the sound of approaching feet, and myself on a romantic bank by a brook a confused mingling of voices; the Spirit side. The silence around me-save the touched me into invisibility, and then home returning bee with its "drowsy softly faded into sunny air herself. hum," and the moaning sound of distant cattle, and the low, sullen gurgling of waters-lulled me into a sleep. The light of my thoughts gilded my dream-my vision was a proof of mental existence when the tion of the immortal waters. They all vided with vessels to bear away some porbodily sense had passed away. Methought-(this, I believe, is the es-which I was reclining; and then each walkpaused at a little distance from the spot on tablished language of dreams)-methought ed singly and slowly from the throng and I was walking idly along a romantic vale, which was surrounded with majestic and rugged mountains; a small stream struggled through it, and its waves seemed the brightest chrystal I had ever witnessed. I sat me down on its margin, which was rocky and beautiful-(so far my vision was copied directly from life). As I mused, a female figure rose like a silvery mist from the waters, and advanced, with a countenance full of light, and a form of living air-her garments floated round her like waves, and her hair basked on her shoulders "Like sunny beams on alabaster rocks." not. dipped his vessel in the blue wild wave of And first, methought, a lonely and melancholy figure slowly moved forth and silently filled a Grecian urn. I knew by the look of nobility, and the hurried and turbulent plunge with which the vessel was dashed into the stream, that the owner was Lord Byron. He shed some tears while gazing on the water, and they seemed to make it purer and fairer. He declared that he would keep the urn by him, untouched, "for some years;" but he had scarcely spoken, ere he had sprinkled forth some careless drops on the earth. He suddenly retreated. There was a touch of immortality in her eyes and, indeed, her visage altogether was animated with a more than earthly glory. She approached me with smiles, and told me she was the guardian of the stream that flowed near, and that the stream itself was the true Castalian, which so many rave of, though they know it I turned with fresh delight to gaze on the water; its music sounded heavenly to me I fancied that there was a pleasant dactylie motion in its waves. The Spirit said, that from the love I bore to her favorite, Spenser, she would permit me to see Then there advanced a polite person(myself unseen,) the annual procession of age, very oddly clad; he had a breastliving bards to fetch water from the stream plate on, and over that a Scotch plaid; on that day. I looked her my thanks as and, strange to say, with these-silk stockwell as I was able. She likewise in-ings and dress shoes-this gentleman formed me, that it was customary for each brought an old helmet for his vessel. I poet, as he received his portion, to say in guessed him to be Walter Scott. what manner he intended to use i'. The helmet did not hold enough for a very voice of the Spirit was such as fancy deep draught, but the water it contained has heard in some wild and lovely spot took a pleasant sparkle from the warlike among the hills or lakes of this world at metal which shone through its shallowtwilight time. I felt my soul full of music ness. He said he had disposed of his porwhile listening to it, and held my breath tion on advantageous terms. in very excess of delight. Suddenly I His Next came Thomas Moore. You might VOL. XXXVIII-16 |