After this I was taken to a new toy of his and the squire's, which he termed the falconry, where there were several unhappy birds in durance, completing their education. Among the number was a fine falcon, which Master Simon had in especial training; and he told me that he would show me, in a few days, some rare sport of the good old-fashioned kind. In the course of our round, I noticed that the grooms, game-keeper, whippers-in, and other retainers, seemed to be on somewhat of a familiar footing with Master Simon, and fond of having a joke with him, though it was evident they had great deference for his opinion in matters relating to their functions.

There was one exception, however, in a testy old huntsman, as hot as a peppercorn; a meagre, wiry old fellow, in a threadbare velvet jockey cap, and a pair of leather breeches, that, from much wear, shone as though they had been japanned. He was very contradictory and pragmatical, and apt, as I thought, to differ from Master Simon now and then, out of mere captiousness. This was particularly the case with respect to the hawk, which the old man seemed to have under his peculiar care, and, according to Master Simon, was in a fair way to ruin ; the latter had a vast deal to say about casting, and imping, and gleaming, and enseaming, and giving the hawk the rangle, which I saw was all heathen Greek to old Christy; but he maintained his point notwithstanding, and seemed to hold all this technical lore in utter disrespect.

I was surprised at the good humour with which Master Simon bore his contradictions, till he ex

plained the matter to me afterwards. Old Christy is the most ancient servant in the place, having lived among dogs and horses the greater part of a century, and been in the service of Mr. Bracebridge's father. He knows the pedigree of every horse on the place, and has bestrode the great great grandsires of most of them. He can give a circumstantial detail of every fox-hunt for the last sixty or seventy years, and has a history for every stag's head about the house, and every hunting trophy nailed to the door of the dogkennel.

All the present race have grown up under his eye, and humour him in his old age. He once attended the squire to Oxford when he was a student there, and enlightened the whole univerIsity with his hunting lore. All this is enough to make the old man opinionated, since he finds on all these matters of first-rate importance, he knows more than the rest of the world. Indeed,

Master Simon had been his pupil, and acknowledges that he derived his first knowledge in hunting from the instructions of Christy; and I much question whether the old man does not still look upon him as rather a greenhorn.

W. IRVING.

HOW TO GROW RICH.

Ir is not my business to discuss or pursue any nice abstract question in philosophy or metaphysics, which may arise in the progress of this history. I only record facts; and though it may

be said that nothing can come of nothing, I have the means of proving beyond the possibility of cavil or dispute, that Peter Pellet, the new lord of Cwn Owen, did literally begin the world with nothing, nay worse than nothing, having been born in the poor-house of the parish of Keynsham (between Bath and Bristol), and bred up on the eleemosynary contributions of the parishioners of that place, until he was able to do in the world (as it is called) for himself. The little citizen bowed with as much humility to Mr. Geoffrey Owen, as if he had been selling a saucepan, instead of buying a castle; so habitual were the manners to which he stood indebted for the goods of fortune. The latter, in following up the suggestion which the peculiar circumstances of his situation had prompted, addressed Mr. Peter Pellet "You appear to be a very fortunate man, sir, by your successful industry to have become the purchaser of this castle."

"Castle, quotha!-yes, yes,-I ask ye pardon-it was called a castle in the pertic'lars of sale, and that were my main objection."

"Objection-How's that, sir?"

"Why, I never see'd a castle that warn't a jail-I ask ye pardon-and so thinks I, a'ter all I've toiled and laboured-and owed no man a farden-it's but a bad job to buy oneself into jail, that's a good 'un-aynt it—but la-they laughed at me, and said e'ery man's house was a castle in this country; so I made no more ado but bought it out and out, as the saying is-I ask ye pardon."

"My pardon! For what, sir?"

"Oh! that's my way-I beg ye-I mean that's my way, all as I may say in the way of business. It takes hugely-Two customers together-can't answer both-ask pardon of one -serve the other. Why, sir, it tells in a sight of ways; make a small mistake in a bill-beg your pardon, sir-man tells a little bit of a lie, saving your presence, must beg your pardon, sir. Its all one, always handy-so got into it, and so can't get out of it-that's good-an't it?"

"Thou art a humorist, Mr. Pellett."

"Anan!-Oh humorist, well enough at home, that is to wife and brats-he! he! ask ye pardon-that won't do in trade-be in good humour with all-you're an ass, says a testy fellow-beg your pardon, sir-I'll knock you down, sirrahbow the lower; ask pardon again, and he begins to cheapen."

"Thou art at least a politician,” smiled Geoffrey.

"Ask ye pardon-never more out in your life -never knew a politician make a fortin in my born life-always steered clear of them there things. Vote for my friend, Mr. Kingsman, says one-beg your pardon, sir, I can't promise. Vote for Mr. Crop, says another-beg pardon, don't meant to vote at all."

"So you surrender your privilege on the score of prudence."

"Why-lauk, never voted but once for a parliament-man, and got enough of it then-never vote again. Why, sir, I ask—I mean, I got a large commission for the Russey market-house failed-fobbed off with two and sixpence in the VOL. III.

N

pound-and lost a venter to Boney's Haris, by giving offence to Alderman Totherside-which neighbour Twostringit took up, and made seven hundred pounds hard cash by."

"Rather hard upon you, Mr. Pellett, as you voted so conscientiously."

"Ay, ay, that's all gammon-what's conscience got to do with voting for a parliament-man? -Never see him again, ten to one-never get nothing out of him a'terwards, unless so be when he's served his seven years-out of his time, as we call it hey! good-weigh him in his balance again."

"Well, sir, what I would ask of you," said Mr. Geoffrey Owen, interrupting his loquacity, "supposing a man like myself were to enter into business, what is the first step."

"The first step-into a good business, to be sure-hey!"

"I'm not disposed to trifle, Mister Pellet; I ask you a serious question, and desire you to inform me what measures it would be necessary for me to take in order to become a man of business."

"You! he he! that's a good one-ask ye pardon, thou'lt make an odd figure behind a counter!"

"A counter, sirrah!" ejaculated Geoffrey.

"Why, how wilt carry on business without a counter, I should like to know-that's a good un, an't it!-thee'st not up to business, I take it."

"It is on that account I apply to you—you, sir, are now in possession of the last remaining property of an ancient family, the castle of my forefathers."