appeared to the author the sense required. The case was provoking, but did not produce a formal remonstrance, until Mr. W-n himself accidentally afforded the learned editor an opportunity of signifying his dišsatisfaction with the plethora of punctuation under which his compositions were made to labour. The worthy printer, coming to a passage one day which he did not understand, very naturally took it into his head that it was unintelligible, and transmitted it to his employer, with a remark on the margin, that "there appeared some obscurity in it. The sheet was immediately returned, with this reply, which we give verbatim. "Mr. J. sees no obscurity here, except such as arises from the villanous quantity of commas, which Mr. W―n seems to keep in a pepper-box beside him, for the purpose of dusting all his proofs with."

ぐ

THE BROTHER AND SISTER.
[From CROXALL.]

A CERTAIN man had two children, a Son and a Daughter. The boy handsome enough; the girl not quite so comely. They were both very young; and happened, one day, to be playing near the lookingglass, which stood on their mother's toilet: the boy, pleased with the novelty of the thing, viewed himself for some time, and in a wanton, roguish manner, observed to the girl, how handsome he was. She resented the insult, and ran immediately to her father, and, with a great deal of aggravation, complained of her brother; particularly for having acted so effeminate a part as to look in a glass and meddle with

The father,

things which belong to women only. embracing them both, with much tenderness and affection, told them, that he should like to have them both look in the glass every day; "To the intent that you," says he to the boy, "if you think that face of yours handsome, may not disgrace and spoil it, by an ugly temper and a bad behaviour; and that you," added he, addressing the girl, “may make up for the defects of your person, by the sweetness of your manners and the excellence of your understanding."

MORAL.

A well-informed mind is better than a handsome person.

DR. JOHNSON'S PUDDING.

LAST Summer I made another excursion to Scotland, with the intention of completing my series of views, and went over the same ground described by the learned tourists, Dr. Johnson and Boswell. I am in the habit of taking very long walks on these occasions, and, perceiving a storm threaten, I made the best of my way to a small building. I arrived in time at a neat little inn, and was received by a respectable looking man and his wife, who did all in their power to make me comfortable. After eating some excellent fried mutton-chops, and drinking a quart of ale, I asked the landlord to sit down, and partake of a bowl of whisky punch. I found him, as the Scotch generally are, very intelligent, and full of anecdote, of which the following may serve as a specimen:

T*

"Sir," said the landlord, "this inn was formerly kept by Andrew Macgregor, a relation of mine; and these hard-bottomed chairs, in which we are now sitting, were, years ago, filled by the great tourists, Doctor Johnson and Boswell, travelling like the lion and jackal. Boswell generally preceded the doctor in search of food, and being much pleased with the look of the house, followed his nose into the larder, where he saw a fine leg of mutton. He ordered it to be roasted with the utmost expedition, and gave particular orders for a nice pudding." "Now,' says he, 'make the best of all puddings,' Elated with his good luck, he immediately went out in search of his friend, and saw the giant of learning slowly advancing on a pony. 'My dear sir,' said Boswell, out of breath with joy, 'good news! I have just bespoken, at a comfortable, clean inn here, a delicious leg of mutton; it is now getting ready, and I flatter myself we shall make an excellent meal.' Johnson looked pleased-' And I hope,' said he, 'you have bespoken a pudding.' 'Sir, you will have your favourite pudding,' replied the other. Johnson got off the pony, and the poor animal, relieved from the giant, smelt his way into the stable. Boswell ushered the doctor in the house, and left him to prepare for this delicious treat. Johnson feeling his coat rather damp, from the mist of the mountains, went into the kitchen, and threw his upper garment on a chair before the fire: he sat on the hob, near a little boy who was very busy attending the meat. Johnson occasionally peeped from behind his coat, while the boy kept basting the mutton. Johnson did not like the appearance of his head; when he shifted the basting ladle from one hand, the other hand was never idle, and the doctor thought at the same time he saw some

thing fall on the meat; upon which he determined to eat no mutton that day. The dinner announced, Boswell exclaimed, 'My dear doctor, here comes the mutton; what a picture! done to a turn, and looks so beautifully brown!' The doctor tittered. After a short grace, Boswell said, 'I suppose, sir, I am to carve, as usual;—what part shall I help you to?' The doctor replied, ' My dear Bozzy, I did not like to tell you before, but I am determined to abstain from meat to-day.' 'Oh dear! this is a great disappointment,' said Bozzy. 'Say no more; I shall make myself ample amends with the pudding.' Boswell commenced the attack, and made the first cut at the mutton. How the gravy runs! what fine flavoured fat! -so nice and brown, too! Oh, sir, you would have relished this prime piece of mutton.' The meat being removed, in came the long wished-for pudding. The doctor looked joyous, fell eagerly to, and in a few minutes nearly finished all the pudding. The table was cleared, and Boswell said, 'Doctor, while I was eating the mutton, you seemed frequently inclined to laugh; pray, tell me, what tickled your fancy?' The doctor then literally told him all that had passed at the kitchen fire, about the boy and the basting. Boswell turned as pale as a parsnip, and, sick of himself and the company, darted out of the room. Somewhat relieved, on returning, he insisted on seeing the dirty little rascally boy, whom he severely reprimanded before Johnson. The poor boy cried: the doctor laughed. 'You little, filthy, snivelling hound,' said Boswell, 'when you basted the meat, why did you not put on the cap I saw you in this morning?' 'I couldn't sir,' said the boy. 'No! why couldn't you?' said Boswell. 'Because my mammy took it from me to boil the pud

ding in!' The doctor gathered up his Herculean frame, stood erect, touched the ceiling with his wig, started or squinted—indeed, looked any way but the right way. At last, with mouth wide open (none of the smallest,) and stomach heaving, he with some difficulty recovered his breath, and looking at Boswell with dignified contempt, he roared out, with the lungs of a Stentor, Mr. Boswell, sir, leave off laughing; and under pain of my eternal displeasure, never utter a single syllable of this abominable adventure to any soul living, while you breathe.'-And so, sir," said mine host, "you have the positive fact from the simple mouth of your humble servant."

A SEA-SIDE STORY.

SOME years since there lived on the coast of Devonshire a fisherman, his name was Ralph Hudson; he was of a robust and hardy constitution, possessed rather handsome features, over which his dark hair hung in thick curls; he was considerably above the middle stature. His rude dwelling was situated on a shelving ledge of the cliff, whose base was washed by the foaming surge, and whose lofty crest overhung the beautiful bay below; a narrow pathway cut in the rock led to the cottage the sole inhabitants of which were Ralph and his inseparable companion, a fine Newfoundland dog, to whom he was devotedly attached in consequence of his having been instrumental in saving his life more than once.

Ralph was of a brave and undaunted disposition, but charitable and humane; if ever the wearied