and the simple hostess had laughed, and Mr. Musgrave had given his friend a glance of much meaning; symptoms which were renewed more than once in the course of the evening, as the parrot, according to his general habit, was so pleased with his new phrase that he repeated it over and over again, until, fearing that even good, unsuspecting Mr. Singleton might take more notice than she wished, Mrs. Colby threw a green cloth over the cage, and the bird, after wishing the company "Good night!" com

posed himself to rest.

The next day was as fine as ever blessed an English party in chase of pleasure, and the company set forth in three carriages: Lady Dixon and Mr. Singleton in the Miss Morrises' coach; Mrs. Colby, with Miss Blackall, in her chariot; and Dr. Fenwick and Mr. Musgrave in a well-appointed curricle (the fashionable equipage of the day), belonging to the latter. Vert-vert and Miss Bates were left behind.

Arrived at the place of destination, the first business of this rural party was to discuss the stewed carp, the roast lamb, the ducks and green peas, and strawberries and cream, pro

vided for their refreshment; their second was to enjoy, after their several ways, the beautiful scenery amongst which they found themselves. Mr. Singleton, Lady Dixon, and the Misses Morris preferred the mode of sitting down to a rubber in the close room in which they had dined; the other four sallied forth into the air, Mrs. Colby taking Mr. Musgrave's arm, and Miss Blackall leaning on the doctor.

The more alert and active pair soon outstripped their heavier companions, and led the way across a narrow strip of broken common, with old pollards scattered here and there, into a noble tract of woodland scenery, majestic oaks and elms and beeches rising from thickets of the weeping birch, the hornbeam, the hawthorn, and the holly, variegated with the briar rose and the wild honeysuckle, bordered with fern and foxglove, and terminated by a magnificent piece of water, almost a lake, whose picturesque shores, indented by lawny bays and wooded headlands, were as calm and tranquil as if the foot of man had never invaded their delicious solitude. Except the song of the wood-pigeon, the squirrel leaping from bough to bough overhead, and the shy rabbit darting

across the path, the silence was unbroken; and Mr. Musgrave and Mrs. Colby, who had the tact to praise, if not the taste to admire, the loveliness of the scene, found a seat on the fantastic roots of a great beech, and talked of the beauties of nature until summoned by the care of good Mr. Singleton to partake of a syllabub under the cow, with which the ruralities of the day were to conclude.

On their return home, a slight difference was proposed by Mr. Musgrave in their travelling arrangements: Mrs. Colby accompanied him in his curricle, and Dr. Fenwick took her place in Miss Blackall's carriage. The prospect seemed most promising:-but, alas for the vanity of human expectations! Mr. Musgrave did not propose to Mrs. Colby; and Dr. Fenwick, encouraged by Vert-vert's hint, did propose to Miss Blackall,-and was accepted on the spot, and married within the month; and poor Mrs. Colby was fain to smother her disappointment, and smile through the bridal festivities, and teach Vert-vert to drink to the new-married couple, and draw bride-cake through the wedding-ring.

91

THE YOUNG SCULPTOR.

FOR Some time after the dreadful catastrophe of the poor Abbé, the Friary Cottage was deserted by all except Mrs. Duval and poor Louis. The vulgar appetite for the horrible, in all its ghastly and disgusting detail, had not been so fully awakened then as it has been since by repeated exhibitions of murder in melo-dramas on the stage, and even in penny and twopenny shows at fairs and revels-or by the still more exciting particulars (with woodcuts to illustrate the letter-press) in the Sunday papers: Belford was too far from London to attract the hordes of inquisitive strangers, who flocked from the metropolis to Elstree, to contemplate the lane where Thurtell slew his victim, or the house where the dreadful scene was planned; and, to do the inhabitants of our town justice, the popular

feeling both there and in the neighbourhood was one comprising too much of genuine pity for the good old man, so inoffensive, so kind, and so defenceless-too much indignation against his murderer, and too sincere a sympathy with his avengers, (for as such Louis and Bijou were considered,) to admit of the base alloy of vulgar curiosity. Everybody would have been glad, to be sure, to make acquaintance with the boy and the dog who had cut so distinguished a figure in the justice-room,—to know, and, if possible, to serve them; but there was a sort of respect young lad and pastry-cook's son though he were-which forbade an intrusion on a grief so deep and so recent; so that the gentry contented themselves with raising a handsome subscription for the boy, and patronising his mother in the way of her trade; whilst the common people, satisfied their feeling of justice by attending the execution of Wilson, and purchasing and commenting on the "last dying speech and confession," which was written, and printed, and distributed for sale by some ingenious speculator in such commodities the