upon the column--and a statue of colossal dimensions it must have been to
be properly seen at such a height. But for the rest--if we except the
carvings of sundry initials on the top--the result was only the knocking
down of one of the volutes of the capital, for boys are always doing
mischief; and this was carried to England by one of the skippers, in order
to execute the commission of a lady, who, with the true iconoclasm of her
country, had asked him to be so kind as to bring her a piece of Pompey's
Pillar.

Little fellows, especially of the class of brick-layers, are no great
readers, otherwise we might suspect that the feat of the skipper-boys had
conveyed some inspiration to Steeple Jack. Who is Steeple Jack? asks some
innocent reader at the Antipodes. He is a little, spare creature who flies
his kite over steeples when there is any thing to do to them, and lodging
a cord on the apex, contrives by its means to reach the top without the
trouble of scaffolding. No fragility, no displacement of stones, no
leaning from the perpendicular, frightens Steeple Jack. He is as bold as
his namesake, Jack-the-Giant-Killer, and does as wonderful things. At
Dunfermline, not long ago, when the top of the spire was in so crazy a
state that the people in the street gave it a wide berth as they passed,
he swung himself up without hesitation, and set every thing to rights. At
the moment we write, his cord is seen stretched from the tall, slim, and
elegant spire of the Assembly Hall in Edinburgh, which is to receive,
through his agency, a lightning-conductor; and Jack only waits the
subsidence of a gale of wind to glide up that filmy rope like a spider. He
is altogether a strange boy, Steeple Jack. Nobody knows where he roosts
upon the earth, if he roosts any where at all. The last time there was
occasion for his services, this advertisement appeared in the _Scotsman_:
"Steeple Jack is wanted at such a place immediately"--and immediately
Steeple Jack became visible.

In 1827 the child's toy was put to a very remarkable use by one Master
George Pocock. This clever little fellow observed that his kite sometimes
gave him a very strong pull, and it occurred to him that if made large
enough it might be able to pull something else. In fact, he at length
yoked a pair of large kites to a carriage, and traveled in it from Bristol
to London, distancing in grand style every other conveyance on the road. A
twelve-foot kite, it appears, in a moder