gale of
Twickenham would have only smiled; for has he not sweetly sung--

"There swims no goose so grey, but soon or late
She finds some honest gander for her mate;"

and her union was a verification of this flowing couplet.

At different times, what different meanings the self-same words obtain.
According to the reading of the new poor-law guardians, "Union," as far
as regards man and wife, is explained "Separation;" or, like a ship when
in distress, the "Union" is reversed! In respect of his union, Spriggins
would have most relished the reading of the former! But there are
paradoxes--a species of verbal puzzle--which, in the course of this ride,
our amiable family of the Spriggins's experienced to their great
discomfort.

Drawing up a turnpike-gate, Mrs. S. handed a ticket to the white-aproned
official of the trust.

"You should have gone home the way you came out--that ticket won't do
here," said the man; "so out with your coppers--three-pence."

"I don't think I've got any half-pence!" said Mr. S., fumbling in his
pennyless pocket.

"Well, then, I must give you change."

"But I'm afraid I hav'nt got any silver," replied Mr. S., with a long
face.--"I say, mister, cou'dn't you trust me?--I'd be wery sure to bring
it to you."

But the man only winked, and, significantly pointing the thumb of his
left hand over his sinister shoulder, backed the horse.

"Vell, I'm blessed," exclaimed Mr. S.--and so he was--with a scolding
wife and a squalling infant; "and they calls this here a trust, the
fools! and there ain't no trust at all!"

And the poor animal got another vindictive cut. Oh! Mr. Martin!--thou
friend of quadrupeds!--would that thou had'st been there. "It's all my
eye and Betty Martin!" muttered Mr. S., as he wheeled about the jaded
beast he drove, and retraced the road.

A RIMAROLE--PART II.

"Acti labores sunt jucundi"

The horse is really a noble animal--I hate all rail-roads, for putting
his nose out of joint--puffing, blowing, smoking, jotting--always going
in a straight line: if this mania should continue, we shall soon have the
whole island ruled over like a copy-book--nothing but straight lines--and
sloping lines through every county in the kingdom!

Give me the green lanes and hills, when I'm inclined to diverge; and the
smooth turnpike roads, when disposed to "go a-head."--"I can't bear a
horse," cries Numps: now this feeling is not at all reciprocal, for every
horse can bear