's near kinsmen,--a
broker.--Every Man in His Humour.

We have here discovered the most dangerous piece of lechery that ever
was known in the commonwealth.--Much Ado about Nothing.

It was an evening of mingled rain and wind, the hour about nine, when
Mr. Morris Brown, under the shelter of that admirable umbrella of
sea-green silk, to which we have before had the honour to summon
the attention of our readers, was, after a day of business, plodding
homeward his weary way. The obscure streets through which his course was
bent were at no time very thickly thronged, and at the present hour the
inclemency of the night rendered them utterly deserted. It is true that
now and then a solitary female, holding up, with one hand, garments
already piteously bedraggled, and with the other thrusting her umbrella
in the very teeth of the hostile winds, might be seen crossing the
intersected streets, and vanishing amid the subterranean recesses
of some kitchen area, or tramping onward amidst the mazes of the
metropolitan labyrinth, till, like the cuckoo, "heard," but no longer
"seen," the echo of her retreating pattens made a dying music to the
reluctant ear; or indeed, at intervals of unfrequent occurrence, a
hackney vehicle jolted, rumbling, bumping over the uneven stones, as if
groaning forth its gratitude to the elements for which it was indebted
for its fare. Sometimes also a chivalrous gallant of the feline species
ventured its delicate paws upon the streaming pavement, and shook, with
a small but dismal cry, the raindrops from the pyramidal roofs of its
tender ears.

But, save these occasional infringements on its empire, solitude, dark,
comfortless, and unrelieved, fell around the creaking footsteps of Mr.
Morris Brown. "I wish," soliloquized the worthy broker, "that I had been
able advantageously to dispose of this cursed umbrella of the late Lady
Waddilove; it is very little calculated for any but a single lady of
slender shape, and though it certainly keeps the rain off my hat, it
only sends it with a double dripping upon my shoulders. Pish, deuce take
the umbrella! I shall catch my death of cold."

These complaints of an affliction that was assuredly sufficient to
irritate the naturally sweet temper of Mr. Brown, only ceased as that
industrious personage paused at the corner of the street, for the
purpose of selecting the driest path through which to effect the
miserable act of crossing to the opposite side. Occupie