. Brummell. "Ask the
parson, here."

"Messire Regulus, I remember, was his name. Taken prisoner by the
Saracens, he gave his knightly word, and was permitted to go seek a
ransom among his own people. Being unable to raise the sum that was a
fitting ransom for such a knight, he returned to Afric, and cheerfully
submitted to the tortures which the Paynims inflicted. And 'tis said he
took leave of his friends as gayly as though he were going to a vilage
kermes, or riding to his garden house in the suburb of the city."

"Great, good, glorious man!" cried Mr. Sterne, very much moved. "Let me
embrace that gallant hand, and bedew it with my tears! As long as honor
lasts thy name shall be remembered. See this dew-drop twinkling on my
check! 'Tis the sparkling tribute that Sensibility pays to Valor. Though
in my life and practice I may turn from Virtue, believe me, I never have
ceased to honor her! Ah, Virtue! Ah, Sensibility! Oh--"

Here Mr. Sterne was interrupted by a monk of the Order of St. Francis,
who stepped into the room, and begged us all to take a pinch of his
famous old rappee. I suppose the snuff was very pungent, for, with a
great start, I woke up; and now perceived that I must have been dreaming
altogether. "Dessein's" of now-a-days is not the "Dessein's" which Mr.
Sterne, and Mr. Brummell, and I recollect in the good old times. The
town of Calais has bought the old hotel, and "Dessein" has gone over to
"Quillacq's." And I was there yesterday. And I remember old diligences,
and old postilions in pigtails and jack-boots, who were once as alive
as I am, and whose cracking whips I have heard in the midnight many and
many a time. Now, where are they? Behold they have been ferried over
Styx, and have passed away into limbo.

I wonder what time does my boat go? Ah! Here comes the waiter bringing
me my little bill.

ON SOME CARP AT SANS SOUCI.

We have lately made the acquaintance of an old lady of ninety, who
has passed the last twenty-five years of her old life in a great
metropolitan establishment, the workhouse, namely, of the parish of
Saint Lazarus. Stay--twenty-three or four years ago, she came out once,
and thought to earn a little money by hop-picking; but being overworked,
and having to lie out at night, she got a palsy which has incapacitated
her from all further labor, and has caused her poor old limbs to shake
ever since.

An illustration of that dismal proverb which tells us how poverty makes