"To be sure you did--but why did'nt he bite mine?"

"'Cause he came t'other side, I s'pose."

"Vell, let me try that side then," cries the tyro, and carefully changes his position.--"Dear me, this here boat o'yourn wobbles about rayther, mister."

"Nothing, sir, at all; it's only the motion of the water."

"I don't like it, tho'; I can tell you, it makes me feel all over somehow."

"It will go off, sir, in time; there's another," and he pulls in another wriggling fish, and casts him at the bottom of the boat. "Well, that's plaguey tiresome, any how--two! and I've cotched nothin' yet--how do you do it?"

"Just so--throw in your hook, and bide a bit--and you'll be sure, sir, to feel when there's any thing on your hook; don't you feel any thing yet?"

"Why, yes, I feels werry unwell!" cries the landsman; and, bringing up his hook and bait, requests the good-natured boatman to pull for sh.o.r.e, 'like vinkin,'--which request; the obliging fellow immediately complies with, having agreeably fished at the expense of his fare; and, landing his whitings and the flat, laughs in his sleeve at the qualms of his customer.

But there is always an abundant crop of such fools as he, who pretend to dabble in a science, in utter ignorance of the elements; while, like Jason of old, the wily boatman finds a sheep with a golden fleece,--although his brains are always too much on the alert to be what is technically termed--wool-gathering. Some people are desirous of seeing every thing; and many landsmen have yet to learn, that they may see a deal, without being a-board!

ANDREW MULLINS.--AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

CHAPTER I.--Introductory.

"Let the neighbors smell ve has something respectable for once."

There is certainly no style of writing requiring so much modest a.s.surance as autobiography; a position which, I am confident, neither Lord Cherbury, nor Vidocq, or any other mortal blessed with an equal developement of the organ of self-esteem, can or could deny.

HOME, ("sweet home,")--in his Douglas--gives, perhaps, one of the most concise and concentrated specimens extant, of this species of composition. With what an imposing air does his youthful hero blow his own trumpet in those well-known lines, commencing,

"My name is Norval."

Although a mere c.o.c.k-boat in comparison with these first-rates, I think I may safely follow in their wake. Should the critics, however, condescend to carp at me for likening myself to a c.o.c.k-boat, I have no objection, if by a twist of their ingenuity, they can prove me to be a little funny!

Economy was one of the most prominent characteristics of the family from which I sprang. Now, some authors would weary their indulgent readers with a flatulent chapter upon the moral beauty of this virtue; but as my first wish is to win favor by my candor, I must honestly confess, that necessity was the parent of this lean attenuated offspring!--For, alas!

My 'angel mother,' (as Anna Maria phrases it,) was a woman of ten thousand, for she dwelt in one of the most populous districts of London!

My sire, was of the most n.o.ble order of St. Crispin; and though he had many faults, was continually mending--being the most eminent cobbler in the neighbourhood.

Even in the outset of their connubial partnership, they started under the most favorable auspices--for, whereas other couples marry for love or money, they got married for 'nothing' taking advantage of the annual gratuitous splicings performed at Sh.o.r.editch Church on one sunshiny Easter Monday.

In less than three years my amiable mother presented her lord and master with as many interesting pledges of their affection--I was the cobbler's last--and

'Though last, not least, in their dear love.'

CHAPTER II.--Our Lodging.

Our precarious means were too small to permit us to rent a house, we therefore rented one large room, which served us for--

"Parlor and kitchen and all!"

in the uppermost story of a house, containing about a dozen families.

This 'airy' apartment was situated in a narrow alley of great thoroughfare, in the heart of the great metropolis.

The lower part of this domicile was occupied by one James, who did 'porter's work,' while his wife superintended the trade of a miscellaneous store, called a green-grocer's; although the stock comprised, besides a respectable skew of cabbages, carrots, lettuces, and other things in season, a barrel of small beer, a side of bacon, a few red herrings, a black looking can of 'new milk,' and those less perishable articles, Warren's blacking, and Flanders' bricks; while the window was graced with a few samples of common confectionary, celebrated under the sweet names of lollypops, Buonaparte's ribs, and bulls'-eyes.

In one pane, by permission, was placed the sign board of my honored parent, informing the reading public, that

'Repairs were neatly executed!'

In my mind's eye how distinctly do I behold that humble shop in all the greenness and beauty of its Sat.u.r.day morning's display.

Nor can I ever forget the kind dumpy motherly Mrs. James, who so often patted my curly head, and presented me with a welcome slice of bread and b.u.t.ter and a drink of milk, invariably repeating in her homely phrase, "a child and a chicken is al'ays a pickin'"--and declaring her belief, that the 'brat' got scarcely enough to "keep life and soul together"--the real truth of which my craving stomach inwardly testified.

Talk of the charities of the wealthy, they are as 'airy nothings' in the scale, compared with the unostentatious sympathy of the poor! The former only give a portion of their excess, while the latter willingly divide their humble crust with a fellow sufferer.

The agreeable routine of breakfast, dinner, tea, and supper, was unknown in our frugal establishment; if we obtained one good meal a day, under any name, we were truly thankful.

To give some idea of our straitened circ.u.mstances, I must relate one solitary instance of display on the maternal side. It was on a Sat.u.r.day night, the air and our appet.i.tes were equally keen, when my sire, having unexpectedly touched a small sum, brought home a couple of pound of real Epping. A scream of delight welcomed the savory morsel.

A fire was kindled, and the meat was presently hissing in the borrowed frying-pan of our landlady.

I was already in bed, when the unusual sound and savor awoke me. I rolled out in a twinkling, and squatting on the floor, watched the culinary operations with greedy eyes.

"Tom," said my mother, addressing her spouse, "set open the door and vinder, and let the neighbors smell ve has something respectable for once."

CHAPTER. III.--On Temperance.

"I wou'dn't like to shoot her exactly; but I've a blessed mind to turn her out!"

Armed with the authority and example of loyalty, for even that renowned monarch--Old King Cole--was diurnally want to call for

"His pipe and his gla.s.s"

and induced by the poetical strains of many a bard, from the cla.s.sic Anacreon to those of more modern times, who have celebrated the virtue of

"Wine, mighty wine!"