you; (Omnes, ” Fitzflam for ever!”) and—we don’t care who knows it—(Omnes. “Noble fellows!”) we arrest you at the suit of Messrs. Moleskin and Corderoy, Regent’s-quadrant, tailors. Attorneys, Messrs. Gallowsworthy and Pickles, of Furnival’s Inn. Plaintiff claims 54l. debt and 65l. costs; so come along, will you!”

It was an exceedingly fortunate thing for the representatives of the Sheriff of Middlesex that their exit was marked by more expedition than elegance; for as soon as their real purpose was known, Fitzflam (as the audience supposed Fitzfunk to be) would have been rescued vi et armis. As it was, they hurried him to a back room at the inn, and carefully double-locked the door. It was also rather singular that from the moment of the officer’s appearance, the gentleman in the boxes whose doubts had caused the disturbance immediately owned himself in the wrong, apologised for his mistake, and withdrew. As the tragedy could not proceed without Fitzfunk, the manager proposed a hornpipe-in-fetters and general dance by the characters; instead of the last act which was accepted, and loudly applauded and encored by the audience.

Seated in his melancholy apartment, well guarded by the bailiff, certain of being discovered and perhaps punished as an impostor, or compelled to part with all his earnings to pay for coats and continuations he had never worn, the luckless Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk gave way to deep despondency, and various “ahs!” and “ohs!” A tap at the door was followed by the introduction of a three-cornered note addressed to himself. The following were its contents:—

“Sir,—It appears from this night’s adventure my name has heretofore been useful to you, and on the present occasion your impersonation of it has been useful to me. We are thus far quits. I, as the ‘real Simon Pure,’ will tell you what to do. Protest you are not the man. Get witnesses to hear you say so; and when taken to London (as you will be) and the men are undeceived, threaten to bring an action against the Sheriff unless those harpies, Messrs. Gallowsworthy and Pickles, give you 20l. for yourself, and a receipt in full for the debt and costs. Keep my secret; I’ll keep yours. Burn this.—H.F.F.”

No sooner read than done; and all came to pass as the note predicted. Gallowsworthy and Pickles grumbled, but were compelled to pay. Fitzflam and Fitzfunk became inseparable. Fitzflam was even heard to say, he thought in time Fitzfunk would make a decent walking gentleman; and Fitzfunk was always impressed with an opinion that he was the man of talent, and that Fitzflam would never have been able to succeed in “starring it” where he had been “The Great Creature.”

FUSBOS.

N.B.—The author of this paper has commenced adapting it for stage representation.

THE DESIRE OF PLEASING.

“May I be married, ma?” said a lovely girl of fifteen to her mother the other morning. “Married!” exclaimed the astonished matron; “what put such an idea into your head?” “Little Emily, here, has never seen a wedding; and I’d like to amuse the child,” replied the obliging sister, with fascinating naïveté.

THE HEIR OF APPLEBITE.

CHAPTER VIII.

A serious accident to the double-bass was the extraordinary occurrence alluded to in our last chapter. It appeared that, contrary to the usual custom of the class of musicians that attend evening parties, the operator upon the double-bass had early in the evening shown slight symptoms of inebriety, which were alarmingly increased during supper-time by a liberal consumption of wine, ale, gin, and other compounds. The harp, flageolet, and first violin, had prudently abstained from drinking—at their own expense, and had reserved their thirstiness for the benefit of the bibicals of the “founder of the feast,” and, consequently, had only attained that peculiar state of sapient freshness which invariably characterises quadrille bands after supper, and had, therefore, overlooked the rapid obfuscation of their more imprudent companion in their earnest consideration of themselves.

Bacchus has long been acknowledged to be the cicerone of Cupid; and accordingly the God of Wine introduced the God of Love into the bosom of the double-bass, who, with a commendable feeling of sociality, instantly invited the cook to join the party. Now Susan, though a staid woman, and weighing, moreover, sixteen stone, was fond of a “hinnocent bit of nonsense,” kindly consented to take just a “sip of red port wine” with the performer upon catgut cables; and everything was progressing allegro, when Cupid wickedly stimulated the double-bass to chuck Susan’s double chin, and then, with the frenzy of a Bacchanal, to attempt the impossibility of encircling the ample waist of his Dulcinea. This was carrying the joke a leetle too far, and Susan, equally alarmed for her reputation and her habit-shirt, struggled to free herself from the embrace of the votary of Apollo; but the fiddler was not to be so easily disposed of, and he clung to the object of his admiration with such pertinacity that Susan was compelled to redouble her exertions, which were ultimately successful in embedding the double-bass in the body of his instrument. The crash was frightful, and Susan, having vainly endeavoured to free herself from the incubus which had fastened upon her, proceeded to scream most lustily as an overture to a faint. These sounds reached the supper-room, and occasioned the diversion in John’s favour; a simultaneous rush was instantly made to the quarter from whence they proceeded, as the whole range of accidents and offences flashed across the imaginations of the affrighted revellers.

Mrs. Waddledot decided that the china tea-service was no more. Mrs. Applebite felt certain that “the heir” had tumbled into the tea-urn, or had cut another tooth very suddenly. The gentlemen were assured that a foray had taken place upon the hats and cloaks below, and that cabs would be at a premium and colds at a discount. The ladies made various applications of the rest of the catalogue; whilst old John wound up the matter by the consolatory announcement that he “know’d the fire hadn’t been put out by the ingines in the morning.”

The general alarm was, however, converted into general laughter when the real state of affairs was ascertained; and Susan having been recovered by burning feathers under her nose, and pouring brandy down her throat, preparations were made for the disinterment of the double-bass. To all attempts to effect such a laudable purpose, the said double-bass offered the most violent opposition, declaring he should never be so happy again, and earnestly entreated Susan to share his heart and temporary residence.

Her refusal of both seemed to cause him momentary uneasiness, for hanging his head upon his breast he murmured out—

and then burst into a loud huzza that rendered some suggestions about the police necessary, which Mr. Double-bass treated with a contempt truly royal. He then seemed to be impressed with an idea that he was the index to a “Little Warbler;” for at the request of no one he proceeded to announce the titles of all the popular songs from the time of Shield downwards. How long he would have continued this vocal category is uncertain; but as exertion