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ceived by Khodadad Khan, which was the cause of his sudden retreat from the foe; it was supposed to have been lost during the late action, but by good fortune it reached


hands." Yar Mahomed then drew forth the epistle, and presented it to Nadir, who, having perused its contents, commanded Meerza Kerbelah and his accomplice, the aide-de-camp, to be brought before him. The wretches were dragged forth on the instant, and overwhelmed with fear, made a full confession of their guilt. At a sign from Nadir, their heads were struck off, and their bodies left to wither on the plain.

The sequel may be imagined. Khodadad, raised to still higher rank than that which he before enjoyed, was united to his constant Semira. Fortune, as if weary of persecuting the gallant Serdar, never afterwards failed to smile graciously upon all his undertakings. Blessed in the possession of an affectionate and lovely wife, and high in favour with his royal master ; Khodadad Khan was the happiest man in the fertile kingdom of Iran.



On! the notable fancy-freaks horæ præsentis,
Grim gaudia, new ways in oblectamentis !
'Ere from his ampleru our mentes could shrink, lo!
Gaunt Timor (the Tartar!) has caught us in vinclo.
The plurima mortis imago delights us,
And Murder just like a tarantula bites us !
Our musings, per dicm, are criminis omnis,
While Raw-head-and-bloody-bones instat in somnis!
Yet not until fun cleaves to horror, the dose is
Completed-permistaque seria jocis ;
For nihil that's rogue-bred is deemed alienum,
The high and the low bolding libras between 'em.
Thus læti and acres must be your house-breakers,
And gibes come with death-blows-the squibs with the crackers !
Skull-smashing, sub noctem, is voted sublime;
We call it, ridentes, a capital crime!
And facinus fascinates so, that we stick to
Whatever stands out in flagranti delicto.
But whence should the prædo who turget in fetters
Thus charm ? 'Tis the donum, the love-gift of “letters !"
Romance, apud nos, blood-besprinkled in garb is,
Whilst History's ordered to “ run for the darbies."
Tales of fraud are our literæ humaniores,
And slang is the study which emollit mores ;
Nor aught that is novum or fresh do we choose,
Nisi Jack Ketch, good carnifer, brings us the noose !
Your author er rapto can live, and, no doubt,
His publisher gaudet that “murder will out !
[By the by, three new libros we're led to expect;
The literæ scriptæ, or letters select
Of that late lepidissimus homo, Bill Soames,
A thing quite per se, in a couple of tomes ;


The obiter facta of three-fingered Jack,
Cum notis, et spirited steel-cuts by Hack;
And (virginibus, puerisque, they tell us)
Ad Patibulum Gradus, the Guide to the Gallows.]
Of premia grata that scriptor the best has,
Who of knaves or latrones exalts the res gestas.
See Sheppard strut forth, quite the facile princeps,
To flourish, and die as a hero deinceps :
There! respice finem, acknowledge how clear it is
That the rope round his cervix the "collar of merit" is.
Whatever is carcere dignum, is best :
Quid sit turpe from Turpin we learn with a zest,
And his vitæ exemplar our manual est.
See Aram arise," written up” from his taint,
A sinner white-washed-propemodum a saint !
How full of fine sympathy, ecce! he finds us,
And, tali ingenio præditus, blinds us !
Thus crime, by a nice limæ labor made fairer,
Becomes but the mentis gratissimus error.
See others who, each more suo, stand forth
In proprio culti, in separate worth.
Whilst daring thus, audent dum talia fures,
Our heroes must necnon parade their amores.
Their fortia facta in knowledge t' enrich us,
Their mollia tempora serve to betwitch us!
Sweet nympha pedestris ! What picture can meet hers?
One moment she's moral (her gin turned to bitters),
And, feigning odisse the life she's a hack to,
She oculos vexat humore coacto :
Anon she fit pugil, and, thrashing her lover,
Doth furens quid fæmina possit discover!
Of such things when sapit pagina, what stultus
Were he that as barbaros dared to insult us!
Whilst we have such writers, oh! cedite, say I,
Romani scriptores, and cedite Grai!
Shift the scene! See the horrors jam tantùm the rage
Pro publico bono transferred to the stage.
There, sweet is the tremor which occupat artus,
As the sceleris opus swells out for its partus,
Till,-ah! what an impetus thrills to our core
When the victim, confossus, sinks through the trap-door!
Oh! vivant, then, omnes who live in and by ill ;
Let roguery reign, et prætereà nihil !
Of crow-bars and fetters so sweet since the tune is,
Avete ye deeds quorum finis est funis !
Let larceny,“ petty” no longer, be mighty—
A choice dish of brains” be our pabulum vitæ-
Burke and Bishop in cordibus nostris enthrone 'em,
(With their motto,“ De mortuis nil nisi BonE 'EM"-)
And still be it semper our richest of treats
Novos carpere flores, to cull Newgate sweets!
Be laus to law-breakers still given, and honos
To all who debellant those quizzes, your bunos !*
And may each truculentus, or brave rogue, to hang when he
Goes, find his

with pen dipped in sanguine !

G. D.

* Vir bonus est quiz !- Eton Grammar.




Long before the dawn, the Hon. Augustus was roused from his sleep by the man whose duty it was to call the boys in the morning, supply them with a dip to get up by, light the hall-fire, and manufacture the birch-rods, Practice makes perfect, and Manning, for so this official was named, prided himself on the perfection to which he had brought the building of birches.

“Here's a rail beauty!” he would exclaim, eyeing one of his own productions with a scientific look, “ jist try the handle on him-firm but springy-spreads out like a fantailed pigeon-beautiful isn't it? I'll pound him to draw blood first cut.”

These observations were mercilessly made to the individual who was about to expiate some offence upon the block,” as the flogging-stool was called, and made him feel remarkably comfortable, of course.

But to return to our hero : he got up and dressed himself as quickly as possible, and under the guidance of his friend Oxtowne, proceeded to execute the duties required of him as a fag. The ewer and kettle were easily filled, considering the darkness of the morning, but the shoes, and knives and forks, required more skill in polishing than Ninny was possessed of, and he was obliged to appeal to his friends for their assistance. This they would readily have granted had not their own work prevented them, for each had quite as much to do as he could manage, before his master got up. Ninny therefore was forced to do as well as he could by imitating the others, and contrived to knock the skin off his knuckles without producing any thing like a polish on the shoes, and to run the prongs of the forks into his fingers, in his clumsy attempts to remove the grease and dirt. The pain, though severe, might not have produced tears, had it not been for the comforting remark of Oxtowne, who after inspecting his work, observed,

“ You call that a polish, do you? I would not be in your placethat's all. Black Jack will half murder you."

I can't do them any better,” cried Ninny, the tears, which he could no longer control, streaming from his eyes.

“We never have the can'ts here, and so you'll find before long," said his friend. “ But it's of no use to stand there blubbering, it only wants ten minutes to seven, and you must call your master, as we go in directly the clock strikes.- I'm off, so come along."

He wiped away his tears, forgetting that the hands which were employed in that operation were covered with blacking and blood, a considerable portion of which was transferred to bis face, and gave him the appearance of a half-washed chimneysweeper. In this trim he proceeded to the dormitory, and in fear and trembling, shook his master's shoulder to rouse him from his slumbers.

• Continued from No. ccxxx., page 247.


“ What o'clock is it, you honourable little vagabond ?" inquired Black Jack.

Nearly seven, I believe," answered Ninny. You believe, sir! What do you mean by that? Have not you got a watch ?”

Ninny replied, by pulling out of his fob a very handsome gold hunting-watch, which his father, by the advice of Lady Skinnykin, had purchased for him a few days before.

“ Just five minutes to seven,” said his master, snatching the watch from him and throwing it at his head. He avoided the blow by what is called ducking, and the watch flew down the dormitory, and was broken into fragments at the further end of the room.

This of course caused a considerable degree of uneasiness in the mind of its owner, as the watch is looked upon by puerilities as the first approach to manhood--at least a watch that will go—which this did, a great deal further than its maker ever intended.

“I'll write home to my father,” cried Ninny," and tell him about your behaviour.”

Oh, you will! will you ?” said his master, now I'll give you a bit of advice ; never open your mouth, except when you are at meals. Now pick up the pieces of your timekeeper, and give me my shoes.".

Ninny executed the first order very willingly, but felt somewhat bac kward in obeying the second, inasmuch as the shine was not such as to merit the wearer's approbation, the shoes, however, were produced, and the moment the " dulness of their lustre” met the master's eye, he shied both of them deliberately at the bearer’s head, and jumping up, seized a towel, and dipped one corner of it into a basin of water, and then giving it a scientific twist or two, brought it into the form of a solid ropeyarn, and telling Ninny to pull up his trousers at the bottom so as to expose the calf “ flicked it into him” until he drew blood.

This novel mode of punishment produced extraordinary samples of activity in the operatee; for he jumped up from the floor at every cut, higher than he himself thought possible, and the roars elicited might have been envied by the strongest bull in the neighbouring market.

“Now, you honourable little vagabond, how is it that your face is so detestably dirty? I'll show you up for being filthy."

“I cut-cut-cut my hands in trying to clean the knives and forks, and knocked the skin off my knuckles in trying to clean the shoes, and then I cried, and then I wiped off the tears with my dirty hands.".

Ah, that's all very well, I shall show you up for dirtiness,” answered his master; “ give me a slip of paper.”

Now Ninny had no paper, because his boxes were all at the matron's; but he told his friend Oxtowne of his difficulties, who relieved them by tearing out the blank leaf of the first new book he met with, which Ninny bore, in triumph, to his tormentor.

Now, sir, write down while I dictate— A. N. Nincompoop, for being dirty,' and wash your face if you dare.”

Ninny complied, and with this document his master, after receiving the books he wanted, repaired to the school-room, and waited at the door, until the cries of “ All in all in,” brought out Dr. Worthy, the head master, to whom the show-up was handed, and as soon as prayers

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were over, Ninny was called up amongst the other fifty or sixty shown ups, to put in his defence to the action brought against him.

“ Plead your first offence," whispered Oxtowne. “How am I to do it?" inquired Ninny. “Oh! merely say “first fault."" “First fault,” screamed out the poor boy at the top of his voice, which elicited a roar from all the other boys.

“ Who's that ?" replied the doctor, waiting, to the annoyance of the seventeenth or eighteenth culprit, between the second and third cut.

“Me, sir," said Ninny.

“Who is that ungrammatical delinquent ?" inquired Dr. Worthy, of one of the undermasters.

“A new boy. I don't know him,” was the reply. “ Come hither, sirrah! Who are you?"

The Honourable Au-Aug-gust—ust—us Nood-Noodlemoodle doodle Nin-in-com-poop:

“Be concise, sir, and confine yourself to the ultimate of your nomenclature in future. For what are you shown up?"

“Noth-noth-nothing, Mr. Doctor."

“Let me see the list,” said the doctor to the monitor, who had the boy's head who was undergoing his punishment on the block, between his legs.

“Ah! I see. For being dirty. A very serious offence, but as it's your first fault you are excused. Return to your seat, and remember that any inattention to personal purification, in future, will be visited with due severity."

No criminal ever received a reprieve with greater joy than did poor Ninny, whose nerves were sadly unstrung by seeing the punishment of birching inflicted on those who had been “ shown up” with himself, but who, as soon as it was over, returned to their places, and gave the piece of Indian-rubber, or leaden bullet, which was used to bite at to prevent their crying out, to the next floggee, as coolly as if nothing had happened.

To recount the miseries to which Ninny was subjected, through the tyranny of his master, for the first week, would be impossible. So wretched was he, that he got up one morning and resolved to run away. All his money was gone, and he had on the school-dress, which was most probably invented with the same object as the prison dresses are now-to prevent the escape of the wearer by its peculiar appearance. In our gaols the dress is generally a motley of yellow avd blue, but at Rotherwick it consisted of a sort of groom's dress, of coarse black “ knees,” and a jacket of the same, over which in school-hours a gown was worn, something like a B.A.'s at Oxford, only made up of coarse cloth. The legs being exposed without any other covering than a pair of cotton or worsted stockings, were generally protected by what was called “ footballs”-that is, a pair of ribbed men's worsted lose, with the feet cut off, and confined under the shoe by a strap like a gaiter, and reaching halfway up the thigh. In this dress, and an old hat of Manning's, which he cribbed out of the beer-cellar, and made to fit his little head by sticking his pockethand-kerehief on his forehead, Ninny ran off to the nearest coachstand, and calling a jarvey, requested him to give him a “ long shilling's-worth towards North Wales," much to the

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