1828. ] The Druggist of Fife. 395 
before, may have injured his nerves—however, he could not rally him- 
self enough to do it. The stranger, with his usual smile or grin, stood 
looking on, employing his time by beating the devil’s tattooon his boot, 
while at intervals came forth the usual phrase, “ Another box, but don’t 
hurry yourself.” At length, mere inability to proceed any farther, sup- 
plied the place of courage ; his arms and sides ached to such a degree 
with his labour, as to cause the perspiration to stand on his brow in 
great drops, and he declared he could proceed no further. The altera- 
‘tion in the stranger’s countenance told him he had better have left it 
unsaid, and his hands instinctively grasped the pestle with renewed 
vigour, but his repentance came too late ; the stranger’s hand was already 
across the counter, and in a second more had grasped Andrew’s nose as 
firmly as if it had been ina vice. Andrew st?ove in vain to release him- 
self—the stranger held him with more than human grasp ; and his voice, 
instead of the polite tone he had before used, now sounded to his terri- 
fied ears what his imagination had pictured of the Indian yell. The 
pain of the gripe deprived him of voice to assure his tormentor he would 
compound for him as long as he would wish ; still he contrived to make 
signs to that effect, by stretching his hands towards his mortar, and 
imitating the action of grinding ; but his tyrant was relentless—firmer 
did he close his fore-finger and thumb. Andrew could not shake him 
off; like a person afflicted with night-mare, he in vain essayed his 
strength, though agonized with the fear of losing his promment feature 
in the struggle. The stranger, at length, as if endowed with superna- 
tural strength, lifted him from the ground, balanced him in the air for a 
moment, gave him a three-fold twitch, drew him head foremost over the’ 
counter, and let him fall. When he came to his senses.he found himselt 
lying outside his bed, his only injury being a broken nose, from coming 
in centact in his fall with a utensil that shall be nameless. 
8.5. S. 
- 
THEATRICAL MATTERS. 
Drury Lane has been making the Beaumont and Fletcher experi- 
ment, and Morton and Kenny have been the representatives of that 
famous pair. They are both clever men—both practised in the affairs of 
the stage, and have both had the happiness of transferring to our boards 
as many French farces as any ten gentlemen within memory. Frederic 
Reynolds, himself, never transacted business so vigorously, on both sides 
of the channel at once ; and, yet, Frederic was a determined spoiler of 
_ the Egyptians, indefatigably active, and burning with a patriotic love for 
increasing the literary opulence of his country at the expence of the 
enemy. 
' Some say that the reason of this joint-stock operation was the cover- 
ture of the smuggling, by dividing the produce. Others, that each was 
so much ashamed of the petty larceny, from the Porte St. Martin, (some- 
thing in the style of the Olympic Theatre) that they agreed to divide the 
shame. Others, that they were so certain of being hissed, that each 
offered the other the honour of the paternity, and that, neither being in- 
clined to fall the victim to popular vengeance, they agreed to take the 
storm in the same boat. Others, that Covent Garden, having laid hold 
of the same precious drama, the principle of the division of labour was 
3 E 2 
