eem;
Quite flat, Magazines and Newspapers;
Ah, what shall I do? make a trial of _steam,_
In order to banish the _vapours?_

Shall I swallow my dinner? I can't--shall I sleep?
Then I don't get away from _myself!_
Shall I think what a beau I have _once_ been, and weep
Like a belle, that is laid on the shelf?
Shall I write? shall I read? ah, yes, that will do,
But an old book is terrible stuff:
Boy, get the new novel, stop, _reading's_ so new,
That a _book_ will be _novel_ enough!

M.L.B.

* * * * *

ANCIENT HISTORY OF DRURY LANE.

(_For the Mirror._)

The reader will most probably exclaim, "Ancient History of Drury Lane!
What a farce!" A dirty lane filled with all complexions of hawkers and
pedlars, licensed and unlicensed!--true incurious reader, Gay has sung

_"Of Drury's mazy courts and dark abodes;"_

yet the topographical and theatrical loiterer may call to mind many
_pleasing_ reminiscences, although mingled with _unpleasing
ones_:

"Who has not here a watch or snuff-box lost,
Or handkerchiefs that India's shuttle boast."

GAY.

Stowe says, "Drury Lane, so called, for that there is a house belonging
to the family of the Druries.[1] This lane turneth north towards S.
Giles in the field. From the south end of this lane in the high street,
are divers faire buildings, hostelries, and houses for gentlemen, and
men of honor, &c."

[1] Dr. Donne resided in a house of Sir R. Drury. Vide _Life_ by
honest Izaak Walton.

Nightingale tells us, "The west end of Wych Street was formerly
ornamented by Drury House, built by Sir William Drury, an able commander
in the Irish wars, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, and who
unfortunately fell in a duel with Sir John Burroughs, through a foolish
quarrel about precedency. During the time of the fatal discontents of
Elizabeth's favourite, the Earl of Essex, it was the place where his
imprudent advisers resolved on such counsels, as terminated in the
destruction of him and his adherents. In the next century it was
possessed by the heroic Earl of Craven, who rebuilt it. It was lately a
large brick pile, concealed by other buildings and was a public-house,
bearing the sign of the Queen of Bohemia's Head, the earl's admired
mistress, whose battles he fought animated by love and duty. When he
could aspire to her hand, he is supposed to have succeeded, and it is
said, that they were