connessoors."

"Ay, Mr. Tims," said I, "that is truly a gem—an old lover kneeling at the foot of his young sweetheart, and two fellows in buckram taking a peep at them from among the trees."

"Capital, sir—capital. I'll tell you a rare good story, sir, connected with that picture and my own history, with your honour's leave, sir."

"With all my heart, Mr. Tims—you are very obliging."

"Well then, sir, take that chair, and I will get on like a house on fire; but if you please, don't put me off my clew, sir.—Concerning that picture and my courtship, the most serious epoch of my life, there is a leetle bit of a story which I would like to be a beacon to others; and if your honour is still a bachelor, and not yet stranded on the shoals of matrimony, it may be Werbum Sapienti, as O'Toole, the Irish schoolmaster, used to observe, when in the act of applying the birch to the booby's back.

"Well, sir, having received a grammatical education, and been brought up as a peruke-maker from my earliest years—besides having seen a deal of high life, and the world in general, in carrying false curls, bandeaux, and other artificial head-gear paraphernalia, in bandboxes to boarding schools, and so on—a desire naturally sprung up within me, being now in my twenty-first year, and worth a guinea a week of wages, to look about for what old kind Seignor Fiddle-stringo, the minuet-master, used to recommend under the title of a cara sposa—open shop—and act head frizzle in an establishment of my own.

"Very good, sir—In the pursuit of this virtuous purpose, I cast a sheep's eye over the broad face of society, and at length, from a number of eligible specimens, I selected three, who, whether considered in the light of natural beauty, or mental accomplishment, struck me forcibly as suitable coadjutors for a man—for a man like your humble servant."

"A most royal bow that, Mr. Tims. Well, proceed, if you please."

"Very good, sir—well, then, to proceed. The first of these was Miss Diana Tonkin, a young lady, who kept her brother's snuff-shop, at the sign of the African astride the Tobacco Barrel—a rare beauty, who was on the most intimate talking terms with half a hundred young bloods and beaux, who looked in during lounging hours, being students of law, physic, and divinity, half-pay ensigns, and theatrical understrappers, to replenish their boxes with Lundyfoot, whiff a Havannah cigar, or masticate pigtail. No wonder that she was spoiled by flattery, Miss Diana, for she was a bit of a beauty; and though she had but one eye—by heavens, what an eye that was!"

"She must have been an irresistible creature, certainly, Mr. Tims," said I. "Well, how did you come on?"

"Irresistible! but you shall hear, sir. I foresaw that, in soliciting the honour of the fair damsel's hand, I should have much opposition to encounter from the rivalry of the three learned professions, to say nothing of the gentlemen of the sword and of the buskin; but, thinks I to myself, 'faint heart never won fair lady,' so I at once set up a snuff-box, looked as tip-topping as possible, and commenced canvassing.

"The second elite (for I know a leetle French, having for three months, during my apprenticeship, had the honour of frizling the head-gear of Count Witruvius de Caucason, who occupied private state-lodgings at the sign of the Blue Boar in the Poultry, and who afterwards decamped without clearing scores)—the second elite (for I make a point, sir, of having two strings to my bow) was Mrs. Joan Sweetbread, a person of exquisite parts, but fiery temper, at that time aged thirty-three, twelve stone weight, head cook and housekeeper to Sir Anthony Macturk, a Scotch baronet, who rusticated in the vicinity of town. I made her a few evening visits, and we talked love affairs over muffins and a cup of excellent congou. Then what a variety of jams and jellies! I never returned without a disordered stomach, and wishing Highland heather-honey at the devil. Yet, after all, to prove a hoax!—for even when I was on the point of popping the question, and had fastened my silk Jem Belcher with a knowing leetle knot to set out for that purpose, I learned from Francie, the stable-boy, that she had the evening before eloped with the coachman, and returned to her post that forenoon metamorphosed into Madam Trot.

"I first thought, sir, of hanging myself over the first lamp-post; but, after a leetle consideration, I determined to confound Madam Trot, and all other fickle fair ones, by that very night marrying Miss Diana. I hastened on, rushed precipitately into the shop, and on the subject—and hear, oh heaven, and believe, oh earth! was met, not by a plump denial, but was shown the door."

"Upon my word, Mr. Tims," said I, "you have been a most unfortunate man. I wonder you recovered after such mighty reverses; but I hope——"

"Hope! that is the word, sir, the very word, I still had hope; so, after ten days' horrible melancholy, in which I cropped not a few heads in a novel and unprecedented style, I at it again, and laid immediate and close siege to the last and loveliest of the trio—one by whom I was shot dead at first sight, and of whom it might be said, as I once heard Kean justly observe in a very pretty tragedy, and to a numerous audience, 'We ne'er shall look upon her like again!'"

"Capital, Mr. Tims. Well, how did you get on?"

"A moment's patience, with your honour's leave.—Ah! truly might it be said of her, that she was descended from the high and great—her grandfather having been not only six feet three, without the shoes, but for forty odd years principal bell-ringer in the steeple of St. Giles's, Cripplegate; and her grandmother, for long and long, not only head dry-nurse to one of the noblest families in all England, but bona fide twenty-two stone avoirdupois—so that it was once proposed, by the undertaker, to bury her at twice! As to this nonpareil of lovely flesh and blood, her name was Lucy Mainspring, the daughter of a horologer, sir,—a watchmaker—vulgo so called—and though fattish, she was very fair—fair! by Jupiter, (craving your honour's pardon for swearing,) she fairly made me give all other thoughts the cut, and twisted the passions of my heart with the red-hot torturing irons of love. 'Pon honour, sir, I almost grow foolish when I think of those days; but love, sir, nothing can resist love."

"I hope, Mr. Tims, you were in better luck with Miss Mainspring?"

"A leetle a leetle patience, your honour, and all will be out as quick as directly—in the twinkling of a bed-post.—For three successive nights I sat up in a brown study, with a four-in-the-pound candle burning before me till almost cock-crow, composing a love-letter, a most elaborate affair, the pure overflowing of la belle passion, all about Venus, Cupids, bows and arrows, hearts, darts, and them things, which, having copied neatly over on a handsome sheet of foolscap, turned up with gilt, (for, though I say it myself, I scribble a smart fist,) I made a blotch of red wax on the back as large as a dollar, that thereon I might the more indelibly impress a seal, with a couple of pigeons cooing upon it, and 'toujours wotre' for the motto. This I popped into the post-office, and waited patiently—may I add confidently?—for the result.

"No answer having come as I expected per return, I began to smell that I was in the wrong box; so, on the following evening, I had a polite visit from her respectable old father, Daniel Mainspring, who asked me what my intentions were?—'To commence wig-maker on my own bottom,' answered I.—'But with respect to my daughter, sir?'—'Why, to be sure, to make her mistress, sir.'—'Mistress!' quoth he, 'did I hear you right, sir?'—'I hope you are not hard of hearing, Mr. Mainspring. I wish, sir—between us,