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Mr. Bam drew himself "Ladies," he said, "I believe I am not in the habits of mistaking. Master, he says to Master Peter, says he, 'you must go, my dear boy. There's no help. You didn't think, Peter, that you'd have to appear before the judges; but keep a good heart,' says he; 'it may all end well yet.'

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"At all events," put in Poke, "he's going to Lon'on, and that's a dreadful place, by all accounts. My cousin, as is in place there, says there's pitfalls dug in every street; and a great square, called Commongarden, quite paved with the bones of poor country folks who come up to sell cabbages, and-"

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"Are cabbaged themselves," said Bam. "No, no, I don't think Lon'on's quite so bad as that. I've been there, and never lost nothing, 'cept my way, and," concluded Bam, recollecting himself, "a watch." Ah, you Mr. Bam!" said Poke. "But you don't care for nobody. I never see such a man; you need have nine lives. If Master Peter goes to Lon'on, we may take our leaves of him. He'll be murdered and put by, and nobody will know nothing about it till his unburied sperrit walks through my scullery. Oh, dear! oh, dear! I wish I was a man."

"Hallo, Miss Poke! Hold up. Steady," said Harry, in a cautionary tone, as though he were addressing a skittish colt.

“And 'spose you was, Miss Forrard,” observed the cook, "what would you do?" "Why

"I'd smash that cussed Tadpole into little bits," said Poke. is he to come with his spœners to this 'ere 'appy 'ome, inviting Master Peter to be transported, and making everybody low? He's worse than Ally Croaker."

"Ally,who?" said Thomas.

"I mean Ally Baby and her forty thieves. I only wish I was a

man !"

"Upon my word, young woman," began the housekeeper, gravely; but Poke, whose spirit was up, cut her short.

"Very well. I'm a young woman, am I? Thank you keeindly, ma'am. You always gives me your good word. What next, I wonder? But never mind. I know I'm only a poor kitchen-maid, but all folks knows that some folks were once no better than other folks, and may live to be worse, if they don't mend their manners. Pooh, Mrs. Plumbly, don't be angry. Don't put yourself in a fantigue, ma'am. I don't care. But I do wonder you're not ashamed of yourself, to sit there, a-twiddling of your thumbs, and Master Peter g-g-going-to-toAnd Poke burst into a flood of tears.

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"Well," said Jessy, sobbing hysterically, for company, "I do think Poke's right. I almost wish I was a man too. Oh, Mr. Bam-oh, Bam, Bam-fie!"

"Oh, fie!" repeated that gentleman, rather taken aback by the sudden change of popular feeling. "Why, what could I do?"

"With

and all!" murmured Poke. c-c-courage, your "What-could-I-do?" roared the baited Bam.

"Just pushed Tadpole down stairs-or set fire to his coat-tails-or something."

"I'm sorry I didn't," said Bam. "It really didn't occur to me, or

else— The villin! The grinning little seedy-coated scoundrel! If I had only thought of it—or if anything could only bring him back—” A sudden knock at the window made all the party start but Mr. Wrumble, who simply snorted in his dream.

"What the deuce can that be?" said Mr. Bam, in a slightly agitated

voice.

"Don't say 'deuce,'" whispered Mrs. Turnover.

"Oh, my gracious!" said Jessy, "if it should be buglers ?" 66 see who's there."

"Buttons," said Thomas,

"I won't," sobbed the tea-boy.

"Thomas!" said Mr. Bam, indicating the window. ""Tain't my place," replied that gentleman, curtly. "Harry! Harry!" said the butler. Singularly enough, Harry slept. "Hillo, you!" cried a voice without. "Too many for you, old chaps," replied Mr. Bam, with spirit. "Fourteen men-women included—nine blunderbusses, the poker redhot, and the plate at the bank."

"Is any one there ?"

"Nonsense! Open the window, man," said the voice, impatiently. "My stars and thingumbobs!" cried Poke, "if it ain't that Tadpole! How providential! You was wishing for him, Mr. Bam."

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Courage, Mr. Bam. You're not afraid, sir!" said Harry, suddenly awaking.

"Afraid! I?-Ha, ha, ha! Make way there!" said the reckless butler, approaching the window in the most daring manner, while cries of "Brayvo!" "Hooray!" &c., &c., accompanied the demonstration. The butler paused.

"I am about," he said, addressing the party behind him, "to open that window, and admit the whole of the desperate gang, or-whoever it may be. Arm yourselves with such weapons as come most readily to hand, and defend your master's property. No quarter-rule Britannia! and open the window," concluded Mr. Bam, in a breath.

With these words he threw open the casement, and, with a single spring like a harlequin, in leaped Mr. Tadpole, his clothes torn, and his whole person plastered with mud from head to foot.

"I say, here's a jolly go!" he gasped.

"Oh, sir, is it you?" said Mr. Bam.

"Graceful 'Evins !" ejaculated Poke, "what a figure of fun !"

"Fun, eh! Very likely. I had a fall in trying to climb over the park-gate."

"What, is it bolted, sir ?" said Bam.

"Yes, and the porter too. At least, I could make no one hear. I didn't like to disturb the family."

"The ojous hypocrite!" said Poke, aside.

"I

say, lend us a clothes-brush some of you," continued Tadpole. "We arn't got no lucksheries here," said Harry, with a grin, “but here's a currycomb.'

An insulting laugh followed this first hostile demonstration. Tadpole stared.

"You all seem very merry over a man's misfortunes. What the deuce, now, were you all doing with these fire-irons and broomsticks?"

"Having a Christmas gambol, sir," said Thomas, with ready wit. "Christmas gambol in November? Well, fire away. Let's see the fun. Don't stop for me, I beg."

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"Please, sir," said Poke, with a solemn curtsey, we wouldn't take the liberties."

"Why, I do believe I frightened the whole kit of

you

take me for?

-a thief?"

"Wuss," said some one, emphatically.

"An assassin ?"

"Wuss still."

"A ghost?"

you. What did

"A little villin that'll never do no more harm," said Poke, who had quietly edged round him, and now flung a large dishcloth over his head.

"Here, Thomas! Harry! Buttons! catch his leg. Ah, you may struggle. He's biting-the coward! Ah, would you? There-he's fast. Now, what shall we do with him?"

The unfortunate youth was indeed completely fast, and could neither move nor shout for help. But the conflict had not been noiseless, and door was heard above.

"Hark!" said Mrs. Turnover.

a

"I'm sure I heard master. Quick,

Bam! Push the little divvle into your pantry."

"The cellar," suggested Poke.

"No, the coal-hole's good enough for he," said Harry. "Get along, you contrairy creeter;" and, with Bam's assistance, the captive was forced into the dark den.

He was barely concealed and the door closed, when Mr. Lovelands, en robe de chambre, made his appearance on the scene.

"What does this tumult mean?" he asked, sternly for him. "I have been accustomed to imagine my servants quiet and respectably-conducted, but really this uproar is worthy of Bedlam! I desire, Mrs. Plumbly, to hear from you some explanation of this disgraceful disturbance."

"Sir-I-eh?" stammered the lady addressed. "I can't say as I heard much."

"It is very extraordinary. Your mistress and myself heard it distinctly enough. It is at least fortunate that you permitted my visitormy good friend Mr. Tadpole-to depart before you commenced it." A loud kicking at a distant door interrupted him.

"Puss! be quiet," said Poke, at a venture.

"Puss! It's more like a sledge-hammer," remarked Mr. Lovelands. "What is it ?"

Nobody replied; and the dead pause was enlivened by a second volley of kicks, that almost shook the floor.

“What is that, I ask? If some one does not speak immediately, I'll send for the police."

"Oh, sir, don't, please," said several.

"I don't care. I'll speak," said the impetuous Poke. "If you please,

sir, we

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Another terrific thump.

"Please, sir," said Thomas, "it's the carpenter. He's putting up the decanter-stands that Buttons broke."

"I didn't," said Buttons.

"Oh, you story-teller!"

"You have some one confined in the cellar, and I will see who

it is."

"Oh, sir, don't," said Poke.

best."

"For the best!

"Oh, if you please, sir, it's all for the

Nonsense. Stand aside."

Mr. Bam gallantly threw himself into the breach.

"Well, sir," he began-" hem!--you see-understanding as this interfering person, Master Tadpole, had come here to spœner Master Peter, we felt we couldn't stand it, and so, when we heard (for the words often comes down the chimley quite distinct) that Master Peter was to go to Lon'on to be transported, and what not, why then we got to considering how we could perwent it; and, just then, it happened that Master Tadpole come knocking at the kitchen window, and we thought 'twas only thieves, but 'twas him-himself!"

"You don't mean to tell me you"

"And so, sir, Poke threw a dishcloth over his head."

“So I did, and I'm glad of it," said the lady referred to. tied his arms."

"Thomas

"And Buttons," said Bam, solemnly-" Buttons, sir-alone-cut his"

"Good God! man, what do you mean?" exclaimed Lovelands, turning pale. "The boy cut his throat?”

"No, sir, no, bless your heart. The boy cut his stick, I was a-going to and hid hisself in a corner."

say,

"The wisest of the party," said Mr. Lovelands, much relieved. "Now listen to me, my friends. You have all been making great fools of yourselves, and very sadly ill-using a worthy young gentleman who came hither on business from my excellent solicitor and friend, Mr. Mackrell. The matter is of much interest, and fraught with great future benefit to your friend, Master Peter. The subpoena, which so alarmed you, is a mere legal form, intended to secure the attendance of a necessary witness. Your intentions, I doubt not, are excellent; but, in future, before you attempt to take justice into your own hands, take care that your ignorance do not betray you into still more dangerous error-nay, into crime."

With these words he descended to the cellars, and quickly returned with the captive on his arm.

"I desire," he resumed, "that you will now all apologise to my friend for this extraordinary outrage. Mrs. Plumbly, you will begin."

"Sir," said Mrs. Plumbly, succinctly, "I'm sorry. I thought you was a wiper."

"I must be, soon," muttered poor Tadpole, looking ruefully at his bespattered attire.

"Please, Mr. Tadpole, sir," said the cook, "I beg your parding, and will you let me get you something for supper? Just a homlette, or a nice cold Norfolk dumpling?"

"No, no-psha!"

"Bless me," said Poke, "if my dishcloth ain't a-hanging to his coat still! Oh, goodness! If you please, sir, there's a bit of fluff on your collar." And she whisked off the cloth.

"Off, woman," said Tadpole, shrinking. "For mercy's sake, sir, keep off that black-eyed vixen-she's the worst of the lot!"

"Oh, he's afraid of me!" exclaimed Poke. "Well, I never! Oh, go along with you. I believe, after all, you're no better than you

should be."

"Woman, you forget yourself," said her master, sternly.

Poke tossed her head.

"I gives warning where I stands."

"Come, come," said Tadpole, recovering his natural good-humour, "though it is not usually the interest of my calling to enact the peacemaker, I must be permitted, my dear sir, to interpose here, and say that I am perfectly satisfied with the apologies of these good folks. Pray let everything be forgotten."

"Well said, Mr. Tadpole," returned his host. "Now I will beg you to come with me, and let us see how far the willing hospitalities of the parlour may compensate for the too inconsiderate zeal of the servants' hall."

:

THE IRISH BAR.

THE respective Bars of England and Ireland have, from an early period, enjoyed, and justly enjoyed, a very high position. In England, it has been for centuries the main source from which the nobility has been recruited and we believe, that on examination, fully one-third of the peerage will be found to derive its origin from successful lawyers. In Ireland, since the Union, but few of our eminent barristers have been ennobled; yet the bar still continues to be the profession most considered, and the one which is most eagerly embraced. Even while the Irish parliament sat in College Green, our most eminent lawyers, who were also in general members of the House of Commons, enjoyed a very high position; and since the Union, they have, in consequence of the total absence of a resident aristocracy, become, at least in Dublin, the leaders of society. From this results that the habits of the bar are so well known; and mixing more in general society than their English brethren are in the habit of doing, an eminent barrister in Ireland becomes more of a public man than one in equal practice in the sister country.

Several years ago, a series of interesting biographical sketches of the most distinguished members of the Irish bar appeared in the pages of the New Monthly Magazine. They were the productions of the late Mr. Shiel and Mr. Commissioner Curran, the son of the famous John Philpot Curran, and at the time they appeared created some noise; and were they presented to the public in a collected form, we have no doubt would still have an extensive circulation. We have recently been perusing these "Sketches," and were much struck with the ability displayed in the composition of some, the keen but polished sarcasm contained in others, and the graphic delineation of character manifested throughout; but were still more astonished at the many particulars in which the bar

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