had been walking round the chairs, stood still, and arm upon the soapy tub; "let the brat stay and walked no longer; those seated on the floor, play-see the rest eat their stirabout: it helps a craving ing with a potato or a broken candlestick, turned belly to see others feeding." their heads to watch Miss Kite; and the older and more knowing, had drawn themselves within the shade of the tattered curtains that hung around the bed, that they might watch, with less chance of observation, the dawning hopes that their hunger might be appeased. At length, Miss Suke crossed the kitchen, and, opening a closet-door, brought from thence a huge loaf, a piece of bacon, and some butter in a basin; and placing them on the table, exclaimed "Come, leave the duds, and come to tea; for if no one else ar❜n't going to get it, I am." At this announcement of tea, and able no longer to subdue their hunger, the youngest of the children approached the table with timid footsteps, though careful to keep hid from the sight of Mrs. Kite; and one, more adventurous than the rest, actually came so near the loaf, as to break off, unobserved, an obtruding crust; and holding it up for a moment, as if to boast of his courage, hastily swallowed it, and again stole forth his fingers for a second crust, much to the envy of his companions. But fortune was not again propitious: the finger and thumb had reached the tempting morsel, when lo! Miss Nancy Kite turned quickly round from her post at the washingtub, and caught the delinquent in the very fact. At this sight, the elder and least adventurous of the children withdrew again behind the curtains of the bed, and listened, with sad foreboding, to the punishment that would be sure to follow the direful act of a hungry child stealing a crust of bread. upon With her hands wet from the soap-suds, Miss Nancy seized the wretched urchin by the back of its tattered pinafore, and lifting it from the ground with one hand to a height considerably above the tea-table, brought the other with full force to the level of its head and neck; and whilst she inflicted repeated slaps upon the face and ears of the hungered child, she gave exercise to the arm that held it by violently shaking the culprit during the intermission of the labour that occupied her right hand. Mrs. Kite seemed aroused from her sullen fit by the bitter screams of the child, and turning round in her chair, said— 66 'What,'s the imp been filching at the loaf, Nance ?" "To be sure," said Miss Nance. "This is the work-house brat, mother; and he's beginning his work for the gallows betimes: however, he's had all the supper he shall have to-night; and he shall know what 'tis to wait for the morrow's porridge." "Eat, eat, eat! is all the imps think of," said Mrs. Kite. "Curse 'em! it's Jim Brown, is it? Cuff him, Nance. I owe him a grudge for taking two potatoes instead of one. It would break the temper of a saint on yarth, to have to deal with such carnate devils. Push him into the room, and lock the door, Nance; and he'll find his way into the straw, I warrant." "No, no," said Miss Jenny Kite, resting her Laughing at her own humane suggestion, Miss Jenny withdrew her arms from the tub; and bearing in her hands a bundle of the ill-washed rags, (for they were not clothes, saving it was some piece of finery, the especial property of one of the Kites,) drew near the fire to hang them on a line drawn across the wide chimney-piece, preparatory to the busy occupation of the tea-table. In the meanwhile, Miss Nancy, having exhausted her combative strength rather than her spleen, gave the unfortunate Jim Brown a concluding shake; and allowing his feet once more to touch the earth, pushed him into an old chair that stood within some few feet of the tea-table, as if, by the sight of the forthcoming meal, to add new refinement to her previous brutality. "If ye stir, I'll finish ye outright," said Miss Nancy, shaking her clenched hand at the drooping child; who, half-suffocated with bitter tears, held down its head in shame and agony. The rest of the children still lurked behind the bedstead, not daring to venture out for fear of sharing the fate of their companion; and some few, burying their heads in the tattered rug, quaked with very fear, least some portion of the guilt and the punishment should fall upon themselves; though, as little Jim Brown's sob died away, one or two, who had been less beaten, and had, consequently, more courage, crept from their hiding, to gaze at a distance, with eager eye, at the orgies of the tea-table. "There's some larking going on, I 'spose," said Mrs. Kite, 66 or Ria might have been home afore with those muffins; and Bill Woodcote with the cream: that's to say, if he don't upset it, and then tumble down to hide it." By this time the Misses Suke, Nancy, and Jenny Kite, had assembled round the table, all saving Miss Sal, who, still intent upon her sewing, occupied the chimney-corner; and as if the arrival of the muffins were somewhat doubtful, had already commenced a vigorous attack upon the huge loaf, when, to their great joy, and that of Mrs. Kite, the street-door opened, and the aforesaid Bill Woodcote made his appearance, bearing in his hand the desired cream, without which Mrs. Kite could not drink the curly-leafed hyson that she allowed unto herself. Immediately in the wake of the ragged urchin was Miss Maria, commonly called Ria Kite; and at the sight of both muffins and cream, Mrs. Kite condescended to smile, whereat Bill Woodcote was very glad: for his daily walk of one mile for the cream was rewarded, six days out of the seven, with divers slaps and pinches from one or the whole of the four elder Misses Kite, and their honoured parent. Miss Ria was the youngest Kite but one; and the muffins being in all probability the handywork of some thriving bachelor, and Miss Ria's heart being unoccupied at this particular time, she had bedizened herself in such gaudy finery as she possessed; and now returned, after a two hours absence, full of smiles, and bearing triumphantly Bill Woodcote, in age some seven or eight years, happy to escape the wrath of the beldame, slunk behind the bed, there to hear, in a succession of nervous whisperings, the fate of the unfortunate Jim Brown. twelvepenny worth of the hottest muffins. Poor | eaten by Bill Woodcote and his hungry friends. At length, the issue of the battle was decided by Mrs. Kite enlisting herself under the banner of Miss Suke; and the enemy giving way, left Suke and her mother undisputed mistresses of the field. They, like all conquerors, making much of their victory, added thereby much chagrin to those defeated; whereat Misses Ria and Sally hastily arranging such portion of their dress as had not fallen within the merciless fingers of Suke, left the house; yet not before they had uttered sundry hearty maledictions upon the successful enemy. As to Jenny and Nance, they seized a candle stuck within a bottle, from off the mantelpiece, and sticking it between the bars of the grate, lighted it, and making their way up a dilapidated staircase, left Suke and their mother, either to single combat or otherwise as they should think fit. The moment the muffins were produced, those happy Kites, seated around the table, stretched out their bony hands; and each Kite seizing one, hastened to the fire, anxious to toast the savoury morsel. But the elder Kite, either more greedy, or more cunning than her fledglings, had possessed herself of the two-pronged and sole toasting-fork, and had already transfixed the largest muffin, and placed it within the clear front of the narrow fire. All tried to dispossess their worthy mother of this first-rate toasting-place; but she, thinking of that golden rule, "that every one has a right to his own," held firm to her muffin and fork; so that the Misses Suke, Nancy, and Jenny, were obliged to toast their muffin each one as well as she might. The toasting done, the buttering commenced; this ended, there came the crisped-leafed hyson and cream, then a new edition of muffins and butter; at the sound of which buttering, divers heads peeped from behind the bed-curtains, and many mouths watered, and dim visions of butter and plum-cake, and savoury things, thronged into the minds of these famished children: and if they had hope for their manhood or womanhood, it rose not above the ambition of a lusty slice of bread and butter, or a red-cheeked apple. The muffin-maker had been generous; and, when the muffins had gone twice round to the six long Kites, there remained three odd ones; and it being impossible by any known law, either of geometry or pure mathematics, to make three into six, and each Kite desiring one of the three last muffins, sundry black looks ensued, each Kite thinking the opposite Kite greedy, and vice versa. So, at length, Mrs. Kite, being probably a peacemaker, tried to end all dispute by taking into her own particular service the three remaining muffins; doubtless satisfying her conscience by the reflection, that she was entitled to the lion's share. But to this reasoning the Misses Kite, one and all, demurred; and when the hyson had gone its fourth round, a general scuffle ensued, each one fighting her own battle. The combat had been observed with deep attention by those stationed behind the curtains of the bed; and it soothed the memory of such as were old enough to have one, to see those that had beaten and starved them with impunity, now receiving in their turn a slight taste of the vigorous chastisement they so liberally dealt out to others. Of course, during this strife, the muffins were forgotten; and Bill Woodcote saw, from his hidingplace, the tempting morsel; and watching for the moment when the enemy was safe within the chimney-corner, busied in the heat of the affray, he stole, with practised foot, across the kitchen, and before another moment was past, was again safe behind the curtains; and long before the quarrel had ended, the muffins were divided and But the ladies, probably exhausted by their recent exertions, seemed disposed for peace; and whilst Suke pinned up her tattered cap, and placed the table in its proper position, that is to say, on its leg, Mrs. Kite stirred the fire into a blaze, and again seating herself, dived her hand into her pocket, and then reaching the sole teacup that remained unbroken, bid Bill Woodcote make haste and fetch her half a quartern of Timkins's best gin. "I say, Suke, pop on the stirabout; 'tis time the brats should be a-budging. Come, ye devils, come from behind the bed, or I'll fetch you with the thong." The group of wretched children obeyed the awful voice of Mrs. Kite; and approaching within some distance from the fire-place, awaited her further commands. "The three babies at the foot of the bed are all awake," said the little girl who had been the last to quit the cover of the curtains; "but the one at the side, and the four at the top, are all asleep." "Stop yer prate," said Mrs. Kite fiercely. "Them as are awake only want their lodnum, that's all. They ain't been dressed to-day, and that's the reason they won't want undressing tonight. Come, Suke, stir up the oatmeal, and whip in a tidy lump of bran; 'twill make the porridge thicker, and the bread the less. Curse that Bill for being so long with the gin!" After some few grumbling words, Miss Suke proceeded to mix the stirabout, first swinging over the fire a round iron-pot, half filled with water, and then fetching a well-sized wooden bowl, she thrust her hand into a sack that stood in one corner of the kitchen, and taking out the desired quantity of bran, next added to it a portion of oatmeal, and some salt; and then, duly mixing cold water with it, till it became of the desired consistency, approached the hearth, that she might be in readiness the moment the water within the pot should boil. At length the gin arrived; and the hag, snatch.. ing it from the boy's hand, applied it to her lips ; and, when she had thrice drained the tea-cup, turned round to strike the boy for not having made better haste. But he being at some distance from the hand of Mrs. Kite, busy in watching SCENES IN THE LIFE OF AN AUTHORESS. Miss Suke, and whispering to his little friends At last the pot boiled, the mixture was poured "Ma'n't little Jim Brown have a drop of stirabout, Ma'am?" said Bill, approaching the chair of Mrs. Kite; "he hangs his head and looks so drooping, poor thing!" "What!" said Mrs. Kite in a voice of thunder, and as if astounded with the presumption of the boy. "Have ye the imperance to ask such a question? He picked the loaf, and he's had his supper; and if ye ask again, I'll fling yer platter at ye." Bill slunk back to the table; and three or four of the elder children, who seemed leagued in mutual friendship with Bill Woodcote, obeying some understood signal that their friend made, instantly turned to watch Miss Suke's movements; and when that lady's watchful eye was for the instant removed, each watcher broke off the large part of its share of bread, and hid it behind the ragged pinafore. Supper was at length ended; and Bill having been ordered "to see the brats to bed, and to make haste to fetch the beer, and something for supper," hastened to obey; and helping those to rise who had eaten their supper, as they sat on the floor, (for they were too small to reach the table,) he lighted a bit of rush-candle, followed the group of children up the rude staircase, being first reminded, by Miss Suke, to make the imps say their prayers. Gaining the wretched chamber where they slept, the elder children proceeded to undress the younger; and happy were those who had saved a morsel of their supper for Jim Brown. And how that poor child's hungry face lightened up with pleasure, as he swallowed the morsels filched from bellies as hungry as his own; and how a hum of delight sounded through that narrow chamber as each one told Bill how sweet the bit of muffin had been! Conscious that Miss Jenny was within hearing, the words were few and hushed; and in ten minutes the two flock-beds had received each one and whispering some kind words to each group its nightly burden. Covering over the coarse rug, of children, Will Woodcote left the chamber in silence. quired no supper, and not having been dressed, of Those infants that did not wake, of course recourse required no undressing; but those that were awake, having been fed with the relics of the stirabout, and afterwards well dosed with laudanum, once more sunk to rest. Mrs. and Miss Kite being thenceforth disengaged, prepared the table for supper; and the ham and ale at length arriving, Will Woodcote was dismissed to his bed; and Mrs. Kite, stirring up the fire, drew the table near it: and thus amicably disposed, we leave the elder and younger Kite to the enjoyment of their evening meal, to turn to another scene. cilla Snig! There was jelly to make, fowls to kill and What a busy day had this same been for Miss Pristo be simmered into broth, raspberry puffs to be baked, and delicate cloths to be sought to wrap them in ; a note to write, full of tenderness, to Mr. Crumpsure, and divers other arrangements too with running about: for the chief toil fell numerous to relate. And Peg was hot and weary and Miss Snig was nervous, and accordingly scolded; and Barbara was driven from the kitchen, and upon her; wished in her secret heart, that Crumpsure had found refuge with Giles in the garden; and Peg broken his neck, and that Miss Snig was anywhere but where she was. and on a pleasant morning in the early December, extravagant as to order soup! Dear me, when can never mind; eat the soup, dear Cæsar; 'tisn't you hav'n't told virgin's hand, "you are too generous. I would sherry into Crumpsure's glass, " "Name not that fatal word; but come have an oyster, and then get measured for that satin waistcoat I promised. Snig will replace the watch, the chain, the seals, the money; but oh! let it be real love, not Platonic love."* "I say Platonic, Priscilla ; because Crumpsure hath not where with to take a wife. But my heart" "Dear Crumpsure," said Miss Snig, "say "heart' once again. It shall be love from the heart: not Platonic love. Crumpsure and Snig were not made for Platonic love." "Snig may love; but Crumpsure can only sigh. One circumstance prevents "Name it!" interrupted Miss Snig. "Keep not your Priscilla in suspense. Say, say the fatal truth." "Must I say it?" said Crumpsure, clasping his hands and lifting his eyes. "Must I give pain to the tender Priscilla? No, no! I cannot speak. No, Priscilla, you mustn't ask." "In Bantling Street, charming Priscilla. And, whilst you arrange the little matter we have proposed, I will see after this melancholy affair at the bank, call upon an old friend of mine, and return for you in some three quarters of an hour." It was dinner-time in the home of Mrs. Kite. Miss Suke had just lifted the compound called pea-soup from off the fire, and arranged such plates as the house afforded, when a loud rapping was heard at the door; and a moment after, it opened, and Miss Snig appeared upon the scene. Inquiring for Mrs. Kite, Justice Tender's cousin approached the fire-place with mincing steps, and found the person she inquired for rocking a cradle in which lay two infants, whilst she was otherwise absorbed in partaking of the better portion of a juicy beaf-steak, and on the hob of the grate rested a mug of porter and a pipe. Miss Sally wiped the seat of a chair for the new comer, placing it near her mother; and when Miss Snig had opened the "Yes, yes! Priscilla will do anything. Say, speak!" purport of her business to the listening ear of Mrs. "Well, dear Miss Snig, if you are heroic enough Kite, one observant might have seen that Miss to hear the truth, hear it! I am shall I say Sally threw a shawl over her dress, (which was it?-Shall Crumpsure hurt the tender feelings arranged with some care,) and putting on her -and that woman Priscilla Snig? bonnet, disappeared by the door through which -INVOLVED- -deceived by a friend! Miss Snig had entered. This disappearance seem-If I have expressed my unhappi-ed to excite no observation; and whilst Miss Snig -forgive me!! held her discourse, the business of dinner proceed"Dear Cæsar," said Miss Snig, in a tender ed, the pea-soup being served out in the same voice, taking Crumpsure's hand, as she laid down vessels as had held the stirabout on the first night a well-fed native," say that you love-say that of our introduction to the home of Mrs. Kite. I may hope to be your wife; and what I have Two potatoes, and a small piece of pork, very fat in the bank shall. and not much larger than a five-shilling piece, were served out to each child; and though they ate very fast, in order to satisfy their hunger, they were not quicker than Miss Kite, who, in less than ten minutes, had cleared away all relics of the soup, bacon, and potatoes, into the closet, and had deposited the key safe within her pocket. of a womanI am Forgive me ness " Owe "No, no, Priscilla ! -But your husband! may Crumpsure aspire to that tender name?The three hundred pounds I "Is it so little!" said Miss Snig, in a joyful voice. Why should Crumpsure be unhappy for three hundred pounds, when Priscilla has six in the bank! But say, may Priscilla hope-Won't Cesar make Priscilla his wife?" "Won't he!" said Crumpsure, with warmth; at the same time rising to kiss with energy the spotless lips of Miss Snig. "Won't he! Priscilla can't doubt Cæsar!" And then, as if to conceal the evasiveness of this reply, again he kissed those lips-lips that, for thirty years out of forty-five, had fondly anticipated the present hour. Snig returned the salute; and Crumpsure, elated with the success of this deep-laid plan, kissed again. And the attorney, sufficiently well skilled in worldly subtlety, knew that to gain power or purpose with woman was to take her in her humour; and he so well acted up to this moral truth, that, in one quarter of an hour from the time of the first salute, he held within his hand the slip of paper empowering him to draw and make free use of the aforesaid three hundred pounds, and this without having promised more than he intended to per form. In the rear of Mrs. Kite's house ran a narrow yard, divided from the neighbouring houses by a high brick-wall; and within this dull enclosure the children that found their home with Mrs. Kite spent many a weary hour: dreary and sad too; for even a child's light heart cannot silence the cravings of hunger, the sense of winter's cold, or the cheerless monotony of a life in which no sunshine of the heart is known. To this yard (their usual resort) were the children sent, even before the pinched meal was well ended; Bill Woodcote, and such as were old enough, being intrusted with such babies as would not sleep, and to whom Mrs. or Miss Kite, in the present position of affairs, had no opportunity of administering their usual sleeping draught. This done, and the house cleared, Miss Suke drew a chair within the precincts of Miss Snig, and added her voice to the passing discourse. "Well, Ma'am," said Mrs. Kite, as Miss Snig finished the last sentence of a very long discourse, "what you say may be very true; but you must recollect, Ma'am, the children are well fed: that's to say, they've good pea-soup to-day: then they are well looked arter. There's I and my five daughters do nothing else but mind 'em. To show you how I'm trusted, there's a matter of twenty children in the house at this time: some have parents, and some hav'n't; but it's all the same to me: I trate 'em all alike: though as to the eighteenpence a-week you speak on, you can't expect a child well-fed for that. What say you, Suke?" "What's it for; a young 'un or an old 'un?" asked Miss Suke. "Better nor two years." afore now, a score of times. There's many a secret and many a brat come within these walls; and both have been safe, I take it." "Well, well," said Miss Snig; "all this is true, I daresay; but it may be some days, or even a week or two before this child comes to you; as her coming depends on various matters not necessary to explain. Can you send some short way into the country for this child?” let "Suke's apt to travel arter the infants," said Mrs. Kite. "We charge according to distance: if "Eighteenpence is very little, Ma'am. We can't the way be long, Suke takes a helper. If you say less than twentypence." us know, the matter shall be done secretly." "I will," said Miss Snig. My house lies near the village of -; and if Miss Kite will come towards the evening hour, it will be the better; and I will have some tea in readiness." "But when I assure you, that food of the plainest kind will serve the child, that ought to lower your price. Her parents are very humble; and you can use her for what purposes you like: let it be the eighteenpence; its quite enough for a pauper's child." Miss Suke looked at Miss Snig's dress, and then at her mother; and during the interval, Justice Tender's cousin looked around Mrs. Kite's kitchen, and the glance seemed to satisfy her as to the destined home of Barbara. "You needn't turn yer eyes about, Ma'am," said Mrs. Kite, as she observed the wandering glance of Miss Snig; "them as has twenty children can't be prim; but this is a bustling sort of a day, and the house not very clean. But as to the pay, we can't say less than the twentypence." "Well," said Miss Snig, rising and arranging her crumpled cloak, "I must seek a home for this child elsewhere." This ruse had the desired effect; and in five minutes a bargain was struck, that Barbara should be received into Mrs. Kite's establishment for eighteenpence weekly; which charge was to include board, washing, education, and all other outlay. "You must be secret about this child," said Miss Snig, placing a shilling into Mrs. Kite's hand. "Ah! ah!" said the crone, laughing as she pocketed the money; "Meg Kite has been secret 66 "Very good," said Miss Suke; "but there is a rapping at the door." ""Tis a friend of mine," said Miss Snig, in a very gracious tone; and so saying, she wished Mrs. Kite and her daughter a complaisant good day; and hurrying from the kitchen, found Crumpsure in readiness to escort her back to the hôtel. "Happy now, Crumpsure?" inquired Miss Snig, pressing the attorney's arm. "Blessed Priscilla! not happy, but over-burthened with a sense of gratitude." 66 Crumpsure must be happy. He shall have all his Priscilla has. Did those at the bank oblige Priscilla's Crumpsure?" "Yes: cashed it in six fifties. When shall Crumpsure repay the "Hush, naughty one. Priscilla is well repaid; but here's the hôtel. Let me tell you about"Not till Crumpsure has saluted the lips of his dear Priscilla. The clock strikes. My watchAy, ay, the watch," said Priscilla. "No, no ; not the watch. "Yes, Priscilla must be kind to her Crumpsure. Come along." "Well, a very little one; and then back to the hôtel." (To be continued.) THE NATIONAL ANTI-CORN LAW LEAGUE. MAY their struggles be aided by Heaven!-May they | Yes! while Nature, with free-handed bounty, awards be In the holy encounter as prudent as bold! Of the birthright we boast, may their triumph decree and cold! To each clime something precious to recompense toil, The ripe corn we might feed on, now rots-that these lords May yet wring from our hunger their own ample spoil. That their banquets may still be profuse, they prescribe Than that Old English Freedom's, once famed o'er the That the Many shall be to the Noble, a tribe earth, Can the fruits of the wildest oppression be worse, When, in thousands, men shiver and starve: and the Of the vermin they chase,-a new species of prey! |