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"Then," said Straddle, "you've a means of your own-a sort of plan for filling the exchequer, I suppose?"

"Jist haven't I?" said Tim, recovering his spirits and winking violently. “Old master didn't promote the idication of the workin classes for nuffin."

"How do you manage then, Tim?" said Blowhard.

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"Why, you see," said Tim, thrown off his guard, and deprived of his usual caution and cunning, by the repetatur haustus. My missus is a very 'nevolent Christian-jines the 'vangelicals, and does a 'finity o' good. She's one of the Dorcas s'ciety for 'spensation o' soup, blankets, calico, and 'ligious principles, no end o' sheep's heads and tracks, for broth and private 'stribution do she buy-leastways I buys for she. She promotes the propogation of infants by keepin of a stock of secondhand babby linen allays ready on the shortest o' notices, and grinding down taters to counterfit hingy arrer-root. Never lets the raggedest wag-her-bones go a way without relief."

"She's a kind-hearted creature, by Jove!" whispered Straddle to Blowhard; "and I'll bet any odds the rascal makes a nice thing of her."

"She gets imposed upon sometimes, I should think," said Blowhard, winking to his friend to let him know he understood his meaning.

"She would if it warn't for I," continued Tim; "but charity, says I, begins at home-so I allays keep plenty o' small change, and when she gies I a shilling or sixpence to give to a idle wag-her-bones at the door, I pockets the silver, and 'spenses her 'nevolence in coppers. Then she makes I keep a list o' charitable objicks-I've got one in my pocket now-for she distends her charities wherever she goes-there it is, read it," said Tim, pulling out a greasy pocket-book, and extracting a paper the contents of which were as follow:

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loosy fox-un'fortin gal

"There," said Tim, "now you'd hardly think as all those 'dividuals means Mrs. Thornback?"

What, Jane Smith, Widow Haynes, and the rest of these unfortunates are all-"

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Gammon, every one on 'em," said Tim.

"Come, Tim, you don't drink," said Straddle, placing a bit of folded blank paper into Tim's hand, which he carefully replaced in his pocket-book, and putting the original "list of charitable objects" into his own waistcoat-pocket.

"No more-no more to-night," said Tim, "rising and staggering to the door. 66 Happy to oblige you any other evening-know when I've

had enow."

"Well, good night, Tim," said Straddle, closing the door after him, and if I have not got your head into a noose, I'm very much mistaken."

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"So," said Blowhard, "this is Tim, my Fidelio,' is it? Why I never met with such an imposing old rascal in my life!"

"Then," said Straddle, "you've been lucky, for the character is by no means an uncommon one. I knew one fellow who realized 400l. per annum, by shamming preacher, and collecting for the distressed brethren of his church; but Mr. Tim's days are nearly over, depend upon it."

On the following morning, Timothy Thornback rose very shaky and very thirsty, but soon braced his nerves, and quenched his thirst with one quart of Mr. Rakestraw's strongest beer, which, with two muttonchops, and an onion, constituted his usual morning meal. Tim was fond of his beer even as a boy, and old Jilks when he first took him into his service, was surprised to find that he was forced to brew a great deal more frequently than he had used to do, especially best beer. How it went he could not conceive as he always kept the key of the tap in his own waistcoat-pocket, and never intrusted it to any one but his old housekeeper, who never indulged in any thing stronger than tea but gin. He hid himself in the cellar one day behind some large casks, and presently Tim came down to draw the small beer for luncheon. He set the large jug down on the floor under the small-beer tap, and turned it on, leaving it to be filled at its leisure. He then clambered up a high shelf and took down a bean-stalk about eighteen inches long, and having extracted the bung of the strong beer barrel, inserted the hollow bean-reed, and sucked away until he had had enough. He then carefully bunged down the cask again, and restored his simple hydraulic instrument to its place. Old Jilks got from the apothecary's a few grains of tartarized antimony, and strewed them on the inside of the bean-stalk. When Tim went down to draw the beer for dinner, he had as usual his pint from the strong barrel in the usual way. While he was waiting at dinner, he felt very queer and could not account for it; his eyes felt dim and his head giddy, his knees seemed to fail him, and a violent perspiration broke out all over him.

"Violetta, my dear," said Jilks to his daughter, "the rats drink our ale."

"Impossible, papa!" said the young lady.

"It's a fact, I assure you; but I've settled them-I've poisoned the cask-stirred in a pound of arsenic this morning-one half-pint of that strong beer would poison half the town. If any body were to taste it even, they would feel first of all dim about the eyes, then giddy, weak about the knees, sweat violently, and then feel very sick."

Tim, who knew he had swallowed enough to poison the whole town, and feeling the symptoms exactly as his master described them fell on the floor with a deep groan, exclaiming, "Then I'm a murdered arrand-boy!"

All was confusion, a doctor was sent for, and from a hint given him by the old banker, he found it necessary to bleed poor Tim, shave his head, clap a blister on his peritoneum, and administer a severe series of emetics and cathartics before he could extract the virus of the arsenic from his veins.

Tim never practised hydraulics again but contented himself with extracting a few coppers from the till now and then, and getting his beer at a neighbouring public.

After Tim had had his breakfast at the Shirt-and-Shotbag, he rubbed

down his horses and his young master, and went to wait upon Miss Vi at breakfast.

"Tim, my Fidelio," said Miss Vi, after she had moistened the staple commodity of the celestial empire, "have you any meritorious miserables, claimants on the superfluous talents committed to my trust, this morning?"

"Yes, mum," said Tim, "fifteen or sixteen shillings worth of charitable objics in my list, and all on 'em miserable in the 'xtreme." "I'm glad to hear it," said Miss Jilks. "Let me see your list." Tim searched his pocket-book in every creek and crevice, but the list I was not to be found.

"Why, wa'at can I ha' done wi' it?" said Tim, looking to his mistress for information which it was quite out of her power to give him. "When did you see it last, Tim?"

"Last night as ever was, mum, when I was reading my blessed bible, 'cording to your 'xpress commands," said Tim, looking conventically, "I was at it all the evenyn.'

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"Then you probably used the paper to mark the passage where you left off," said Miss Jilks. "Did you confine your search after grace to the gospel, or did you refresh your inward man with a mixture of Mosaic and Christian comforts?"

"Mixture? comforts?" said Tim, soliloquizingly, "that's it-I have it ;" and added aloud," I 'members me now, mum, and I'll go and fetch

un.

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Tim hurried down to college, and went to Mr. Straddle's rooms. He knocked three different times with a modest single rap, to which a dead silence was the only response. He knocked again, and looked through the keyhole, but could see nothing. On his substituting his ear for his eye he could hear Mr. Straddle very plainly humming,

"Could a man be secure."

Why don't he answer?" said Tim to himself. Mr. Straddle it's only me, Timothy Thornback."

"Oh! I knows.

These words, which were spoken in a very loud key, did as such keys ought to do-opened the door.

"Well, Tim," said Straddle, "how's your mistress? When you want to get into my rooms another time give two loud double raps, and one heavy kick, and I shall know it is not a dun."

"I'ool," said Tim. "Missus is pretty well, thank'e, but that arn't it. You prigg'd my list of charitable objics last (night, and missus wants it, as she's a goin for to 'spense her 'nevolence as usual.” "I mean to keep that list, Tim," said Straddle.

"What! prig my property? Why it's petty larceny. And what's the use on um to you?" inquired Tim.

"You and I, Tim, had better understand one another at once," continued Straddle, "I mean to marry your mistress, Tim, and if—"

"The devil ye do!" said Tim, "why she's old enow to be the mother on ye."

"And if you attempt to betray me, or interfere with my plans, I produce that list and the little confessions you made last night before two competent witnesses, which will open Miss Jilks's eyes to your rascality, and deprive you of a very lucrative place. Now, if you aid me,

instead of thwarting me, I will, after the knot is safely tied, set you up in a flourishing public, and put all your little boys and girls out to school. You fully understand, Tim?"

"Yees," said Tim, "I think I do-but only just let I have un for a minnit, just to copy un-do now."

"No, Tim, with your fertile imagination, you can easily invent a few ailments and misfortunes that will impose upon your mistress quite as well as this list of charitable objects, which does not go out of my possession except to be handed up to my lord at the assizes, some day when you are being tried for robbing your employer," said Straddle, looking stern.

"Then you won't tell o' I if I don't tell o' you?" asked Tim.

"Certainly not. You may go, Tim. Shut the door after you, and remember, I don't owe a farthing in the world, and never smoke."

"Oh! I see now," said Tim, "you never was 'xtravagant, and wants nothin of missus but her lovely person. That's the gammon, eh ?"

"Exactly," said Straddle, "I see we understand one another."

Tim returned to his mistress with a newly invented list of miserables, and Straddle went to call on Byron Scott Montgomery, whom he found very ill in bed from the effects of the last night's rash indulgence in a cigar and brandy-and-water.

"Well, Jilks, old fellow, not up yet?" said Straddle.

"Oh! Mr. Straddle, I've been so ill, and that bad man, Timothy, has been threatening to tell my aunt. I was obliged to give him a whole week's pocket-money to get him not to inform against me," said Jilks.

"An old rogue! But is your aunt, Miss Violetta, so violent against smoking, eh?" inquired Straddle.

"I can assure you," said Jilks, "she has threatened me over and over again, very solemnly, that if ever I smoked a cigar, or tasted spirits, she'd leave every farthing of her fortune to the foundling hospital, and the female penitentiary. I'm at the mercy of that villain, Timothy Thornback, for ever!"

"You have placed yourself in a very unpleasant position, young man," said Straddle, menacingly; "but when I am your uncle I may induce your aunt to be less strict in her injunctions."

"You my uncle?" cried Jilks, sitting bolt upright in bed, and shoving his nightcap off his eyes to see more clearly.

"Yes, Mr. Byron ancettero, I mean to marry your aunt-the aunt that has cherished so ungrateful and disobedient a viper in her heart from his earliest childhood," said Straddle. "You will not endeavour to prevent the happy union, I am sure, for fear I should let her into your real character. Take things easy, and you may yet enjoy yourself as you please, without fear of Timothy, who is in my power. and you are ruined for life. I leave you to meditate upon this. I shall behave handsomely, depend upon it. Good bye, till dinner-time."

(To be continued.)

Thwart me

THE YOUNG PRETENDER.

[We here present our readers with an interesting document, never before published, which supplies many particulars in the life of Charles Edward, commonly called the Young Pretender, from the termination of the battle of It is a regular journal Culloden, to his escape from Scotland into France. of the events which befel him during the time that he wandered amongst the islands of Scotland, and is written by one of his attendants, whose son* settled in France, where he followed, about twenty years ago, the occupation of a hairdresser. This person's father had been with his royal highness in all his misfortunes and disasters, during which time he had kept the journal in question. The prince had also given him two miniatures, beautifully executed on copper; one that of himself, the other that of the duke, afterwards Cardinal York. This document and its accompanying relics were secured by our friend for a moderate amount of argent comptant, and they are now before us. The internal evidence in favour of the authenticity of the manuscript is quite clear; but its external appearance—the ink, the handwriting, the spelling, the antiquity of the document, and the accomWe therefore give its panying miniatures, set the question quite at rest. contents without further preface; merely observing that we have preserved the antique phraseology of the original.]

THE misfortunate battle of Colloden being fought upon the 16th of April, 1746, his royal highness seeing that the day was irrecoverably lost, concluded that his only business was to endeavour the saving of himself out of the hands of his enemies: whereupon, having retired to a neighbouring eminence, hard by the place of action, accompanied by a few of Fitz-James's horse, there, having made a little stop, not knowing whither to direct his course, when luckily one Edmond Burk, the servant of one Alexander MacLeod, son of Mr. John MacLeod, of Muiravine Side, rod accidentally by them, thinking to find his master among them, whom he had not seen since the beginning of the battles. His master (who happened to be there present with the prince), knowing him to be very well acquaint with all the different rods of the highlands, ordered him to lead them the safest and surest road to Glengarry: whereupon the prince, accompanied by Master O'Sulivan,+ Mr. Allan MacDowell, priest, and the said Alexander MacLeod, marched westward, and arrived that night about eight o'clock to Thomas Gortlickshorge, a gentleman of the name of Fraser, in Stratharagaig, where he met, as it was said, with my Lord Lovat, and supt with him there that night.

* We are inclined to think that this man was a son of Neil Mackechan, or, originally, Macdonald-a servant at first of Flora Macdonald's father, and the trusty companion and guide of Charles Edward in his wanderings. Neil had been brought up in France. We also think that Neil himself was the author of this account now presented to the reader; for, independently of other internal evidence, he speaks of things which occurred, and of conversations carried on when the prince was in company with Neil alone. Neil would naturally fly the country when an opportunity presented; and in company with his prince whom he had so devotedly served, and having been educated in France, he no doubt would have settled there.

+ Colonel Sullivan, an officer of considerable military reputation, who acted in the army of the prince in the capacity of engineer. In Ray's History of the Rebellion will be found an interesting notice of him.

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