ats
them. He gives them wealth; yes, but the gold-pieces turn into worthless
leaves. He sets them before splendid banquets yes, but what an awful
grin that black footman has who lifts up the dish-cover; and don't you
smell a peculiar sulphurous odor in the dish? Faugh! take it away; I
can't eat. He promises them splendors and triumphs. The conqueror's ear
rolls glittering through the city, the multitude shout and huzza. Drive
on, coachman. Yes, but who is that hanging on behind the carriage? Is
this the reward of eloquence, talents, industry? Is this the end of a
life's labor? Don't you remember how, when the dragon was infesting
the neighborhood of Babylon, the citizens used to walk dismally out of
evenings, and look at the valleys round about strewed with the bones of
the victims whom the monster had devoured? O insatiate brute, and most
disgusting, brazen, and scaly reptile! Let us be thankful, children,
that it has not gobbled us up too. Quick. Let us turn away, and pray
that we may be kept out of the reach of his horrible maw, jaw, claw!

When I first came up to London, as innocent as Monsieur Gil Blas, I
also fell in with some pretty acquaintances, found my way into several
caverns, and delivered my purse to more than one gallant gentleman of
the road. One I remember especially--one who never eased me personally
of a single maravedi--one than whom I never met a bandit more gallant,
courteous, and amiable. Rob me? Rolando feasted me; treated me to his
dinner and his wine; kept a generous table for his friends, and I
know was most liberal to many of them. How well I remember one of
his speculations! It was a great plan for smuggling tobacco. Revenue
officers were to be bought off; silent ships were to ply on the Thames;
cunning depots were to be established, and hundreds of thousands of
pounds to be made by the coup. How his eyes kindled as he propounded the
scheme to me! How easy and certain it seemed! It might have succeeded, I
can't say: but the bold and merry, the hearty and kindly Rolando came
to grief--a little matter of imitated signatures occasioned a Bank
persecution of Rolando the Brave. He walked about armed, and vowed
he would never be taken alive: but taken he was; tried, condemned,
sentenced to perpetual banishment; and I heard that for some time he was
universally popular in the colony which had the honor to possess him.
What a song he could sing! 'Twas when the cup was sparkling before us,
and heaven