Per you may extract it when you can pick powder out of pitch with a feather; or wool out of birdlime with a stalk of thistledown. A bots upon the plague! that carried off so many jolly wenches, and left her ladyship behind. haps she was spared as one of the family, for I'm sure she has been plague enough to me. Once more, thou bantering blade, I am bare as a beggar's wallet, poor as the alm's-box at the church door, so talk not to me of money, unyou come as a lender, not a borrower. less 66 'Sblood, Sir, what means the Chancellor by saying he cannot hear my cause out of its course, but that I may depend on having justice ? He lies, for delay is ruin, and therefore the worst of injustice. Since Nan Hyde married the Duke, I suppose we are to stand in awe of his lordship's big wig; but egad! if I were not tied by the leg, I would beard him on the woolsack, and tell him plump that it would be better for both of us if he would attend more to Brambletye House, and less to Dunkirk House.* It's a burning shame of Rowley to allow such delays, especially towards an old servant and soldier, who had foot in stirrup and sword in hand for so many years, and ought not to be forgotten now, that he has a gouty shoe upon one, and a flesh-brush in the other. "The black ghost comes out as usual with the owls and bats, and flits round Brambletye, and spits her spite, and curses and swears, and talks to the moon worse than ever. The cowardly knaves are all afraid of her, for they now say she is a witch, or else they might have caught her before this, and have executed my order to trail her nine times round the moat. Jack Whittaker, however, had a chase after her last week, and though the Jezabel got away, as usual, we have reason to hope that he wounded * A nick-name bestowed by his enemies upon the magnificent mansion he was then building in St. James's Street, the expense of which, it was intended to insinuate, was defrayed out of the bribe-money, received for the sale of Dunkirk. her with a large stone that he sent hissing at her head. By the bye, honest Jack talks of leaving me, unless ale be substituted for swipes, which the Vrouw won't hear of, and therefore you may suppose I don't often get a bottle of claret. Money, quotha! you are a wag, Jocelyn; and a saucy Jackanapes, my boy; and a flouting malapert, my darling; so no more at present from your poor, gouty, disappointed, pillaged, forgotten, but still affectionate and stout-hearted father, John Compton. “P. S.—Harkye, Sir! what business have you to want money with such a liberal salary from the Queen? I forgot to ask that question. Zounds! Sir; don't expect a farthing from me. If you fall into the wild extravagance of the Court, I shall cast you off, and not care a whiff of tobacco about you. Indeed, I am not sure that I do now; so once more, God bless you my own dear boy.-J. C." On the following morning, upon returning to his apartment, after having been in attendance 111 upon the Queen, he found a parcel carefully wrapped up in baize, and sealed at either end, upon opening which he discovered a small oaken box, and the following letter: "You have been wandering long enough in the ways of unrighteousness. Are they the paths of peace? Let your own bosom resolve this question. For shame! for shame! Leave vice to fools and knaves. Your intellect is too clear, your heart too good, to allow you even a momentary gratification in its indulgence. Crime will only aggravate your unhappiness. therefore without an aim, and without an excuse. This money is not sent to minister to new errors, but to enable you to withdraw with honour from your old ones. It is "A FRIEND." On breaking open the box, it proved to be filled with gold, to a considerable amount, very neatly packed, but without any further paper, or clue that might lead to a discovery of the mysterious and generous donor. It had been left by a man dressed in a grey Campain suit, with black and red points, and wearing a brown periwig, who said that no answer was required, and disappeared immediately after delivering the parcel. The porter had never seen him before, though he thought he might recognize him were he again to meet him. This communication, so different in its matter and manner from Sir John's, excited various emotions in Jocelyn's breast. Curiosity for some time predominated over every other feeling; he scrutinized the hand-writing, he examined the box, he inspected the seal, but still he remained as much in the dark as ever. There was no evidence to guide him, conjecture was useless; and he was therefore compelled to leave the solution of the enigma to time and chance. A second perusal of the letter awakened a different train of thought. He was softened by the discovery that he possessed a generous, though unknown, friend, in that world which he had been lately beginning to contemplate |