voulil be st scandal to tiie loyal . ' ■. oi i;. ■ ! ■
!ier majesty’fcimsmt to dine at m ini!, . i
:rit he would go anil dine at Ills house, and b>:
• lie genii -:n.i:i v. kh hmi; adding, tti.u lie .Id
uMur them roast heel arid a plum pud-iim.’, a ill:
some ale ot' his own brewing. The prim .• >. ,:i
M) amused by the whimsical politeness - i tie v
■naker, accepted his protl'cred entert .tinmen', ai. 1
Immediately proceeded to his linusr. On the aril
val of the party, lluddlcstone called In his w,f.-,
who was up stairs, de.-ming her to put on a elea:
tpron and come down, for the Queen's husband
md another gentleman u t • come to dine with
ill'll). She speedily made her appearance u ith a
clean blue apron, and was graciously received In
the prince. Alter dinner, |*iince t.eorge asked In,
host il he ever visited London, lie replied, that
since the ladies had worn stays instead of lioddic.es
be had sometimes gone thither to liny whalebone.
Oil which the prince desired him to take bis wile
with him when he went again, tit t|u. same time
giving him a card to laciiitate los introduction at
court.
.'mji mug uiut uns visa, mniuieslone Hail occa
>1011 to make a journey to the metropolis, and tak
ing his old dame on a pillion behind l.un, thee pro
ceeded thither. With the assistance of the card
they found easy admission to the prince, and by
lhm they were introduced to the Queen, who invit
ed them to an approaching entertainment at court.
They were informed that it would he necessary
they should have nevy dresses for the occasion,
which they were allowed to choose for themselves.
Observing that the Prince hud on a suit of purple
velvet, they both fixed on the same, which w as ac
cordly provided for them. Appearing at the ap
pointed time, they were introduced by her majesty
to the assembled courtiers, as the most loyal per
sons in the city of Hristol, and the only ones who
had invited the Prince, her husband, to their house.
After the entertainment, the Queen commanded
her guest to kneel down, laid a sword on his shoul
der, and (to use I-ady Duddlestoiic’s own words)
lid to him, “Ston up, Sir Jan.” The new knight
was then offered money or a place under govern
ment, to enable him to support his dignity, lie
very considerately declined accepting either, in
forming her Majesty that he had fifty pounds out
at Use, and that he apprehended from the number
of persons he saw about her she must lie at great
expense in housekeeping. The Queen, however,
presented the gold watch from hei side to Lady
Duddlestune ; and her Inly ship, delighted with the
gift, ever after wore it when she went to market,
suspended over a blur apron, nut less vam of the
gift of royalty than a young nobleman would have
been of a blue riband.
THE FASHION IN PARIS.
Our whimsical neighbours, ever in extremes,
nave passerl from the neglect of all religious obser
vances to their introduction on the must inappropri
ate occasions. In the great world at Paris, an even
ing ball is now usually sanctified by a previous svr
mon. “How do you manage it said one ot In r
lriends to a female devotee of rank. “ Nothing
tan be more simple. We enttr the assembly-room,
dressed for the dance, but without taking of] our
. > j; inding our white satin shoes under our
- and our hommcls under our handkerchiefs.
I very one Sits in silence, with her eyes fixed on
; t!.e ground. Presently the Abbe comes in, and
| places Ir.msclt on a kind ot stool in tlie mkht of the
company. He murmurs a short prayer ; we make
! the !'.(*< ;■' sary responses behind our fans. The ser
j ‘ ;1 11 o> ;:i \\ hen it is finisli« d, we applaud
rn ; "t*aciiev : lie retires ; ti;e musicians are order
• 1 in, and the bail commences.—That is the fasli
i ion !”
__—«____
poETinr.
wriHvr spwisii nw.i.u>, thansr.vri'd u? mu.
Lor Kl! A IIT.
/ VISA’S KAU-KIN'OS.
‘My ear-rings '■ my ear-rings ' they’ve drupt into
the w t il,
■And what to sa. to Mima, I cannot, cannot tell.”
’Twas thus I .raaada’s fountain hy, spake Albuha
rez’ daughter,
“ The well is deep, far down they lie, beneath the
cold blue water—
To me did Much give them, when he spake his sad
farewell,
And what to say when lie comes back, alas, I can
not tell.
“ My ear-rings ! my ear-rings 1 they w ore pearl, in
silver set,
I That when mv Moor was fur away, I ne’er should
him forget,
That l ne’er to other tongue should list, nor smile
on other’s tale,
lint remember he my lips had kiss’d, pure as those
ear-rings pale—
When he comes hack, and hears that I have drop
ped them in the well,
Oh what will \Iuca think of me, l cannot, cannot
tell.
“ My ear-rings ! my ear-rings ! he’ll say they should
have been,
Not of pearl and of silver, but of gold and glittering
sheen.
Of jaspar and of onyx,and of diamond shining clear,
Changing to the changing light, with radiance in
sincere—
That changeful mind unchanging gems- are not be
fitting well—
Thus will he think—and what to sav, alas 1 1 can
not tell.
“ He’ll think when I to market went I loiter’d by
the way ;
He’ll think a w illing ear I lent to all the lads might
sav ;
He II think some other lover s hand among* my
tresses noosed,
From the ears where he had placed them, my rings
of pearl unloosed ,
He’ll think when 1 was sporting so beside this mar
ble 'veil.
My pearls fell in—and what to sav, alas ! I cannot
tell.
“ He’ll sav 1 am a woman, and we are all the same;
He’ll say i lov’d when he was here to whisper of his
flame—
Hut when he went to Tunis, my virgin troth had
broken,
And thought no more of Moca, and cared not for
his token.
My ear-rmjrs ! my ear-rings ! oh, luckless, luckless
well,
For what to say to Muca, alas ! 1 cannot tell.
*‘1 ’ll tell the truth to Muca, anil 1 hope he will be
lieve—
That I thought of him at morning, and thought of
ham at eve ;
I 1 hat musing on rny lover, when down the sun was
1 K'»m,
1 11 s car-rings in my iiantl 1 held, by the fountain a!
alone;
And that my niind was o’er the sea, when from niv
hand they fell,
And that deep his love lies in my heart, as they lb
in the well.”
I
[1'lie following lines were written bv a voting
gentleman ot tins slate, a few d.t\ s previous to In'
ueath at If rniitda, whither he had gone, with tin
Intj), that a sea-voyage and change of air might re
More lus system, Wasting by consumption. Then
are breathen m a tone of sorrow, natural to a mini
highly ser.sit:■ i1, u lien it muses on tlie earlv jot s ot
youth, and s- s inst before it the termination of a!
its hopes. A. tHr. j
TO MISS -
I hough the hte-biudi of Iiea.lth lias abandon'd u,\
che.k,
And hopr wit!i her syren song fled from my view.
Vet disease only conquers tins p< nr t ided h n
{ » he heart s go. en aft • ct ton it cannot siTihu..
1 OYr the couch,ss 1 slumber'd,t'hy dear dr, . ;••• *
i Ui-calling the scenes when our 1 >\a s \. ..*, m usv.
! Ami it smhVi, as ! mui'mmM tin name in r* . un.
I o hear how a dying heart still could lie i:
Oh, why did my infant heart kindle to thin. .
And fundi; confide in a vision of bliss:
Or why 'vast tlnm fated to cling to a frame,
S j liopeleS', so fragile, so transient as thas.
Hut farewell tliou lovM one, who gave life its chai n/
Anil cherish’d u flower now fading so fast,
I ins hoMim, tuu* sinking, glows warmer to thee,
As the lamp blazes brightest when gleaming its a,*-’.
j FROM THK Rl’UAL It Ki'OSI TOK Y.
IMtlZIs fOKM.-.n y william fma it, of hcdson,n ;.
I ll K WANING Of VOL I II
Oli ve who have danced to the gay violin
And revelled in luxury's arms,
And diearned all the pleasures were true ve could
w in—
That the w orld was a picture of charms,
When the bright sun of youth o’er the pure azure
skv
Shone tranquilly, brilliant and clear,
Say, have ye ne’er breathed, as youth wasted, v.
sigh— *
Or sited for its waning a tear 5
Or were all the dreams that young fancy had wro*f.
Of truth, but the shadow alone ;
Or have the fond pleasures that wealth might have
bought
As fleet as on Engle wings flown '
I ask ot the gay, who yet throng tin- wide halls
" here the splendor -it pomp is displayed.—
Where the soft music thrills in the scene pictured
walls,
By the penny less artist portrayed—
I ask of the gay ;—they will answer me not,
For they tremble the truth to tv veal,
And they haunt the saloon and the rosc-wreathci
grot
! Lest its weight on their bosoms should steal .—
j Yet tne tune may arrive when their soft happy hours,
i l.’ke the dew from the noo i’s silo, hate past
And memory paints, w ith its qirck t ,vul pviwers,
j file joys they have known for the last.
i Oh 1 the pleasures of life are its dreams of the mors
] For its cares with our ages increase ;
: And the light \ mi iilul heart may he stung hr a thorn
That shall inui its futurity’s p< ace .—
| And the weahli tlial has Hatiered the hopes of the
May he lost fur a moment’s dt light,
, For the suu <4 t' e mornuig and i,r ghtnrw of ds1,
Arc succeeded by shadows of n.ght ’