Thence, having achieved my impromptu, I went to the house where he lived and breathed and had his being;' and began forthwith to scatter the golden cobweb, (the stuff that dreams are made of), which I had spun, like a silk-worm, out of my own vitals. There was the very room- that! where the bard was born. I was perfectly sure of it. And why? because, the moment I set my foot there, a miracle happened. Being requested to write my name, as I had been requested before, both at the church and at the house of the woman what made plays, both of whom desired to be remembered to all my friends coming that way! (I could have told her that my friends were likely to go quite another way.) I seated myself and began to write; all at once-just when I had got as far as North America,' which sounds fifty times grander, in such a place, than United States, beside being altogether more intelligible to the great body of British statesmen, to say nothing of the multitude- the best of them being not much better informed to this day, respecting our geography, than they were when the Island of Virginia' was first mentioned in the house of Lords or the State of New-England' thought proper to set herself in array against the great President,' I came to a full stop! I had finished forever, as I thought, and was about to adjourn - by my faith it is truewhen a queer sensation-a sort of trickling from my heart a something, that went a rippling to 6 6 6 the finger ends,' prevented me. I tried to get upI could n't- to fling down the pen-it would n't budge so write I must, and writé I did; and the following real, honest, downright impromptu was the result. The ground is holy here—the very air! Ye breathe what Shakspeare breathed. Rash men, beware! 6 Oh, yes! Will Shakspeare was born here. The question was settled forever and ever. I could n't help sliding into extrumpery.' O, ye walls! covered with pencilled names, on whitewashed plaster! Kings! Princes! and Immortals - if they were ever there or, if only such as understood him had written there, no lights would be needed to show the manger of Shakspeare. The walls would be luminous with their handwriting the sign-manuals of them that write with imperishable fire, light burning not only under water, but under earth, and throughout all the earth. But enough-our story is about Wizard Will,'-not Will Wizard:' and therefore know we when to stop. THE BACHELOR'S DREAM. ANONYMOUS. THE music ceased, the last quadrille was o'er, And I- a melancholy single man Retired to mourn my solitary fate I slept awhile; but o'er my slumbers ran I dreamt of mutual love, and Hymen's joys, I saw them all, in sweet perspective sitting The scene was changed. In came the Baker's bill: Of pies and puddings that it took to fill The bellies of the rising generation. There was no end to eating : — legs of mutton Were vanquished daily by this little host; The massy pudding smoked upon the platter, That scarce a remnant e'er appeared again. Then came the School bill: Board and Education And every little bagatelle was counted! To mending tuck ; - A new Homeri Ilias; And now I languished for the single state, The social glass, the horse and chaise on Sunday, The jaunt to Windsor with my sweetheart Kate, And cursed again the weekly bills of Monday. Here Kate began to scold· I stampt and swore, The kittens squeak, the children loudly scream ; And thus awaking with the wild uproar, I thanked my stars that it was but a dream. LAST HOURS OF A SINGLE GENTLEMAN. ANONYMOUS. THIS morning, April 1, at half past eleven, precisely, an unfortunate young man, Mr. Edwin Pinkney, underwent the extreme penalty of infatuation, by expiating his attachment to Mary Ann Gale, in front of the Altar railings of St. Mary's Church, Islington. It will be in the recollection of all those friends of the parties who were at the Joneses' party at Brixton, two years ago, that Mr. Pinkney was there, and there first introduced to Mary Ann, to whom he instantly began to direct particular attentions — dancing with her no less than six sets that evening, and handing her things at supper in the most devoted manner. From that period commenced the intimacy between them which terminated in this morning's catastrophe. Poor Pinkney had barely attained to his twentyeighth year; but there is reason to believe that, but for reasons of a pecuniary nature, his single life would have come earlier to an untimely end. A |