promised to use his interest for my future welfare. I kept my word gratefully; returned the money on the day appointed. I did so before one who knew me by report only, and looked upon me as a ruined, dissipated, worthless Extravagant. I returned to an adjoining room to wait my friend’s coming. While there, I could not avoid hearing the following colloquy—

“Good Heaven! has that fellow actually returned your fifty?”

“Yes. Didn’t you see him?”

“Of course I did; but I can scarcely believe my eyes. Oh! he’s a deep one.”

“He’s a most honourable young man.”

“How can you be so green? He has a motive in it.”

“What motive?”

“I don’t know that. But, old fellow, listen to me. I’m a man of the world, and have seen something of life; and I’ll stake my honour and experience that that fellow means to do you; so be advised, and—‘Take care of him!’”

This was too much. I rushed out almost mad, and demanded an apology, or satisfaction—the latter alternative was chosen. Oh, how my blood boiled! I should either fall, or, at length, by thus chastising the impertinent, put an end to the many meaning and hateful words.

We met; the ground was measured. I thought for a moment of the sin of shedding human blood, and compressed my lips. A moment I wavered; but the voice of my opponent’s second whispering, “Take care of him,” once more nerved my heart and arm. My adversary’s bullet whistled past my ear: he fell—hit through the shoulder. He was carried to his carriage. I left the ground, glad that I had chastised him, but released to find the wound was not mortal. I felt as if in Heaven this act would free me from the worldly ban. A week after, I met one of my old friends; he introduced me by name to his father. The old gentleman started for a moment, then exclaimed—“You know my feeling, Sir—you are a duellist! Tom, ‘Take care of him!’”

THE SCHOOL OF DESIGN AT HOOKAM-CUM-SNIVERY.

Wednesday last was the day fixed for the distribution of the prizes at this institution, and every arrangement had been made to receive the numerous visitors. The boards had undergone their annual scrubbing, and some beautiful devices in chalk added life to the floor, which was enriched with a scroll-work of whiting, while the arms of Hookham-cum-Snivery (a nose, rampant, with a hand, couchant, extending a thumb, gules, to the nostril, argent) formed an appropriate centre-piece.

Seven o’clock was fixed upon for the opening of the doors, at which hour the committee went in procession, headed by their chairman, to withdraw the bolts, that the public might be admitted, when a rush took place of the most frightful and disastrous character. A drove of bullocks that were being alternately enticed and marling-spiked into a butcher’s exactly opposite, took advantage of the courtesy of the committee, and poured in with great rapidity to the building, carrying everything—including the committee—most triumphantly before them. In spite of their unceremonious entry, some of the animals evinced a disposition to stand upon forms, by leaping on to the benches, while the committee, who had expected a deputation of savans from the Hampton-super-Horsepond Institution, for the enlightenment of ignorant octagenarians, and who being prepared to see a party of donkeys, were not inclined to take the bull by the horns, made a precipitate retreat into the anteroom.

Order having been at length restored, the intruders ejected, and their places supplied by a select circle of subscribers, the following prizes were distributed:—

To Horatio Smith Smith, the large copper medal, bearing on one side the portrait of George the Third, on the reverse a figure of Britannia, sitting on a beer barrel, and holding in her hand a toasting fork. This medal was given for the best drawing of the cork of a ginger-beer bottle.

To Ferdinand Fitz-Figgins, the smaller copper medal, with the head of William the Fourth, and a reverse similar to that of the superior prize. This was awarded for the best drawing of a decayed tooth after Teniers.

To Sigismond Septimus Snobb, the large willow pattern plate, for the best model of a national water-butt, to be erected in the Teetotalers’ Hall of Temperance in the Water-loo Road.

To Lucius Junius Brutus Brown, the Marsh-gate turnpike ticket for Christmas-day—of which an early copy has been most handsomely presented by the contractor. This useful and interesting document has been given for the best design—upon the river Thames, with the view to igniting it.

The proceedings having been terminated, so far as the distribution was concerned, the following speeches were delivered:—

The first orator was Mr. Julius Jones, who spoke nearly as follows:—

Mither Prethident and thubtheriberth of the Hookam-cum-Sthnivey Sthchool of Dethign, in rithing to addreth thuch an afthembly ath thith—

Here the confusion became so general that our reporter could catch nothing further, and as the partisans of Mr. Jones became very much excited, while the opposition was equally violent, our reporter fearing that, though he could not catch the speeches, he might possibly catch something else, effected his retreat as speedily as possible.

QUEER QUERIES.

NOT THE BEST IN THE WORLD.

Why is a man with his eyes shut like an illiterate schoolmaster?—Because he keeps his pupils in darkness.

BETTER NEXT TIME.

Why is the present Lord Chancellor wickeder than the