ankruptcy upon a large class of Her
Majesty's subjects; as a great and sudden increase in the number of
married men occasioning the comparative desertion (for a time) of
Taverns, Hotels, Billiard-rooms, and Gaming-Houses, will deprive the
Proprietors of their accustomed profits and returns. And in further
proof of the depth and baseness of such designs, it may be here observed,
that all proprietors of Taverns, Hotels, Billiard-rooms, and
Gaming-Houses, are (especially the last) solemnly devoted to the
Protestant religion.

FOR all these reasons, and many others of no less gravity and import, an
urgent appeal is made to the gentlemen of England (being bachelors or
widowers) to take immediate steps for convening a Public meeting; To
consider of the best and surest means of averting the dangers with which
they are threatened by the recurrence of Bissextile, or Leap Year, and
the additional sensation created among single ladies by the terms of Her
Majesty's Most Gracious Declaration; To take measures, without delay, for
resisting the said single Ladies, and counteracting their evil designs;
And to pray Her Majesty to dismiss her present Ministers, and to summon
to her Councils those distinguished Gentlemen in various Honourable
Professions who, by insulting on all occasions the only Lady in England
who can be insulted with safety, have given a sufficient guarantee to Her
Majesty's Loving Subjects that they, at least, are qualified to make war
with women, and are already expert in the use of those weapons which are
common to the lowest and most abandoned of the sex.

THE YOUNG COUPLE

There is to be a wedding this morning at the corner house in the terrace.
The pastry-cook's people have been there half-a-dozen times already; all
day yesterday there was a great stir and bustle, and they were up this
morning as soon as it was light. Miss Emma Fielding is going to be
married to young Mr. Harvey.

Heaven alone can tell in what bright colours this marriage is painted
upon the mind of the little housemaid at number six, who has hardly slept
a wink all night with thinking of it, and now stands on the unswept
door-steps leaning upon her broom, and looking wistfully towards the
enchanted house. Nothing short of omniscience can divine what visions of
the baker, or the green-grocer, or the smart and most insinuating
butterman, are flitting across her mind--what thoughts of how she would
dress on such an occasion, if she we