etely unmasked, and
discovered, to the amazement of Tallyho, two well-known faces, little
expected there by him--no other than Merrywell as the Dandy Officer, and
his friend Mr. Safebind as the Nun. The exposure rather confused
them, while Tom and Bob joined the merry Devil in a loud burst of
laughter--they however bustled through the room and were quickly lost.

[Illustration: page410 Masquerade]

A French _Frisseur_, without any knowledge of the language of the nation
from which he appeared to come, could only answer a question _a la
Francoise_ from the accomplished Tom Dashall, by a volume of scented
powder from his puff, which being observed by a Chimney-sweeper,
was returned by dust of another colour from his soot-bag, till the
intermixture of white and black left it difficult to decide which was
the Barber and which the Sweep. They were now suddenly attracted by a
grotesque dance between a Clown of the Grimaldi school and a fancy Old
Woman in a garment of patch-work made in an ancient fashion. A red nose,
long rows of beads for ear-rings, and a pair of spectacles surmounted by
a high cauled-cap, decorated with ribbons of various hues, rendered
her the most conspicuous character in the room: and notwithstanding
her high-heeled shoes, she proved herself an excellent partner for the
Clown.

By this time, Bob, who was anxious to carry his plan into execution,
began to be fidgetty, and proposed a walk into the open air again. As
they left the room, his ears were attracted by the following song by a
Watchman, which he could not help stopping to catch, and which afforded
his Cousin an excellent opportunity of giving him the slip:

"Fly, ye prigs,{1} for now's the hour,
(Tho' boosey kids{2} have lost their power,)
When watchful Charleys,{3} like the Sun,
Their nightly course of duty run
Beneath the pale-faced moon;

1 Prigs--Pickpockets.

2 Boosey kids--Drunken men.

3 Charleys--A cant term for watchmen.

But take this warning while ye fly,
That if you nibble, click,{1} or clye,{2}
My sight's so dim, I cannot see,
Unless while you the blunt{3} tip me:
Then stay, then stay;
For I shall make this music speak,{4}
And bring you up before the Beak,{5}
Unless the chink's in tune.

Now, ye rambling sons of night,
Or peep-o'-day boys{6} on your flight,