1829.] a Candle-light Story. 629 



When I returned to London, I found Leonora married to my friend ; 

 and I sent them a brace of moor-fowl, of my own shooting. I took 

 occasion, at the same time, to return one of her dearest pledges of love 

 and constancy — a lock of her own " auburn" hair, which to my utter 

 astonishment, I now found to be red. As for " Hoomphrey, the watch- 

 man" — appointed to that office by the authorities of the village to protect 

 the natives from my uncle's ghost — the scoundrel lost nothing by his impu- 

 dence. He is still extant, in the best house in the village ; and when I 

 meet him in a winter evening, wrapped up in his huge frieze great coat, 

 tottering along the avenue, even without the aid of the dark lanthorn, 

 his appearance reminds me, to this day, of the adventure of the dark 

 FIGURE. L. R. 



A WATER PARTY. 



Oh, Laura ! such a charming party ! 



You've missed our pic-nic, foolish girl ; 

 I do assure you from my heart, I 



Hate you, now you're Mrs. Searle. 

 You know I doat vipon the river — 



'Twas settled we should row to Kew ; 

 And though the cold did make us shiver. 



In England that's not very new. 



But I should tell you that our number 



Was rather more than you would like ; 

 For Ma would ask that living lumber. 



That dull, but worthy, Mrs. Pike : 

 Then she insisted that her daughter 



Could not, foi worlds, be left behind ; 

 The poor girl screamed so, on the water — 



I wonder mothers are so blind ! 



We'd Clara Smith, and Major Morris, 



Besides Sir John, and Lady Gann — 

 Their nephew too — his name is Horace — 



A well-bred, clever, tall young man : 

 Papa, Mamma, and all my brothers — 



Sophia, Kate, Georgina, and me ; 

 I have not time to name the others. 



Except your old flame. Dr. Lea. 



The whole arrangement was quite charming ; 



Miss Smith, though, is a shocking flirt; 

 Her conduct really was alarming — 



Her Mamma is so very pert. 

 The men all chose to praise her singing ; 



But one's so sick of " Home, sweet Home !" 

 And " Hark, the Village Bells are ringing !" 



Is duller than the Pope of Rome. 



Then her " La ci derum la mano," 



Was murdered by poor Major M. ; 

 She whispered him, in vain, " jnano !" 



That little man is quite ^ gem — 

 I mean to those who re fond of quizzing. 



Which you and I, of course, are not; 

 He looks like soda-water, fizzing, 



Or like a mutton-chop when hot. 



