the starch, and his toilet was finished. He then set forth on foot, attended by his valet, who, whilst the master dallied with the mistress, was to pump the maid on divers points. Marylebone was at that period a semi-rural place. But round the old church clustered a good many dwellings, interspersed with strips of garden and plots of ground. Amongst these was Mistress Trapple's house; betraying its great age by steps ascending from the street, by the upper storeys overhanging each other, and by huge diamond-paned windows of hornlike glass. In a sort of kitchen into which the steps led, Mistress Trapple transacted business, as had her father before her. Across a portion of it ran a strip of counter, piled on this, on shelves, in recesses called "hatches;" and behind moth-eaten curtains was a mass of varied articles-for Mistress Trapple, though ostensibly a dealer in curiosities, took other things, either for sale, or as a security for borrowed money, though preferring plate, jewellery, post-obits, and title deeds; hence pictures and miniatures, tarnished plate, grotesque china, old lace, lawn, and wearing apparel, were amongst the adornments of this strange place. Adding to its look of age, masses of dust lay on everything; whilst cobwebs floating from the ceiling and shelves, and litters of all kinds strewing the floor, showed how little brush or duster was troubled. Nevertheless, this was a place of fashionable resort. Ladies of quality came far and wide in their chairs and coaches to buy china and bargain for lace. It was equally frequented by men of two classes those rich and of the Horace Walpole stamp, who sought costly trifles; the rest needy, and anticipating the deaths of rich uncles or fathes, whose heirs they were. At the rear of this mouldy-smelling chamber was another, vastly smaller, wherein on ordinary days Mistress Margery and her maid Ciss lived, but now apportioned to the entertainment of Mr. Pounce. Above the shop was a chamber of equal size, usually devoted to the storing of more precious articles, but now daintily arrayed for the tête-à-téte supper of the loving pair. Its spider-legged presses and tables had been dusted, a mirror hung, a harpsichord brought down from some remote garret, and a piece of mouldy carpet spread, on which stood two chairs, and a little table laid with delicate wine and viands. To be befitting such gala show, Mistress Trapple had put on her best attire, and awaiting her lover at the head of the narrow stairs, was ready to welcome him as soon as he arrived and Ciss ushered him up. "My dear sweet love," she said, running forward with the affected agility of a girl of sixteen, and seizing his exquisitely gloved hand, "how art thou? She evidently expected a salute in lover-like fashion, but Sir John was cold as Polar ice. "Well," he said haughtily, "now let me go in." With this he advanced into the chamber, and closed the door. She expected her salute now, but it did not come. Sir John's only care was "Forgive me, my dear Margery; my humour hath been tried to-night-now let us sup; after it I shall enjoy more fully the sweetness of thy company." Reassured by these hollow words, comforted by the salute, Mistress Trapple put her arms about her lover's neck, returned it warmly, and ordered up such portion of the supper as was served hot. This consisted of spring ducks, peas, and other delicacies; for no cost had been spared to make the entertainment most recherché in kind. As soon as it was over, and Ciss, the illfavoured-looking maid had retired, Mistress Trapple proceeded to show Sir John her treasures-in post-obits, title deeds, and other things of like nature. After displaying a few of the most choice from the drawers of a cabinet hard by, she thought it time to hazard a proposal of her own. "Will my sweet Sir John favour his Margery in a little matter? Hath he fixed the place for the marriage ceremony? If not, will he please her? May it not be at St. Paul's, Covent Garden; and may not a little music go before-a drum and fife, or . . . ...?" "What!" interrupted the exquisite, in a rage so terrible as to awe the pitiless hag before him, "what! make me the laughing - stock of the town-a puppet for jokes at Will's and the Smyrna. Isn't it enough that I take a wrinkled hag of sixty, that she must go in state to show the town?...." He rose, and pacing up and down, so continued for some minutes. and found presently the due placebo. She sought with abject humility to pacify him, naughty pride at his youth and beauty, "Come! Sir John must forgive his Margery's show him a little nice jewellery, that hath been Let her a duke's, and may one day be his." his chair-to be caressed and pacified. She Whereupon he suffered himself to be led to then unlocked the secret drawer of another cabinet, and brought forth magnificent jewellery; amongst it a gorgeous diamond ring. In a minute he coveted the last, and sought to make it his. But for a long time the hag stood firm against his entreaties, making many excuses to return it to its resting-place. Presently, however, Sir John made it his, by a little dalliance, and the promise of three fifes and a drum to church. Thus pleased, Mistress Trapple proceeded to lay bare the rest of her stores. When these were at an end, he perceived that she had omitted to show him the contents of one small cabinet that stood in a darkened corner of the room. Jealous of his gains, he questioned her about it. "Oh, nothing, sweet Sir John," the woman answered tremblingly, "only a few old letterssome clothes of the dead-a few remembrances of-of-." "Let me see them." Sir John followed her to the cabinet, and watched till she had unlocked it. At this moment there was a knock at the door; hastening to open it, as though he knew who knocked, Sir John took his snuff-box from his valet. Making occasion presently to use it, he found therein this hint scrawled on a piece of paper-"The maid says she hath heirs-a dead sister's children; get her to draw a will or deed to-night, making you absolute master of everything. Foxnose, her attorney, lives hard by." of love afforded her by her master; but the profligate was more than her match. An angry storm ensued, to quell which Pounce and the maid were called up stairs; then followed caresses, which acted as an opiate to the avarice of the sexagenarian, and a compromise pleasing the two concerned was finally effected. Old Trapple's will was consigned to ashes, Foxnose called in, and a deed drawn up, giving Sir John Ogilvy absolute possession of all property possessed by Mistress Trapple the morning she became his wife; whilst to her was conceded all arrangements for the wedding, including its solemnization at St. Paul's, Covent Garden, with drums and fifes in attendance ad libitum. It was very late when Sir John took his last glass of wine with Foxnose the lawyer; and later still when he gave his last salute to Mistress Margery. He then took leave, followed by Pounce, who in the meanwhile had concerted a small underplot of his own, namely, to marry the maid; as, though like her mistress she was old and ugly, she was the possessor of sufficient money to open an ordinary in some fashionable quarter of the town, and make her husband posthereof. 66 With this for his cue, Sir John insisted upon a pretty close inspection of the contents of the cabinet; would look at poor faded memorials of the long-perished dead-a gown-a ribbon-sessor some beads-a fan; would look, and that with haughty authority, at several pleading letters signed" Lucinda M'Kay;" and as he read the signature he faltered, and turned deadly pale. "What M'Kay is this? You said you had no relatives-no heirs. Thou hast lied already." She was very abject in her humility, pleading excuses, and vowing that none but he-her dear Sir John, her sweet love-would possess her money. "I never trust to promises! From what I find, the old man left a will-let me see it?" At first she denied it, then pleaded excuses; at last, when seeing that her bird was yet in the bush, and might fly away, she most reluctantly produced some musty leaves of parchment-it was the will. The largest wonder attached to it was, that it had not already been destroyed, for it seemed to have been drawn up in an hour of penitence, as it divided the old man's accumulations between his daughters equally-the children of the married one being final and absolute heirs. "Dost thou know anything of this woman's son?" he asked with tremulous earnestness; or rather as one who, having participated in some guilty secret, dreads its revelation. Her answer assured him she did not; that she had hated her sister-dreaded the will-indeed had thought of its destruction. "Well, this shalt be done to-night, my beloved Margery, this for reasons which have little to do with money. What's more, as our marriage occurs in four days, your lawyer must be sent for, as he liveth hard by, and a deed must be drawn up, making me master of thy wealth the day I marry thee." Mistress Trapple was much startled at this proposition, as she had wished to keep the reins of power in her own hand, and dole out guinea by guinea in amount proportionate to the extent Pounce," said Sir John, as his valet disrobed him of ruffles and wig, "your first errand in the morning must be to carry a billet doux to that sweet little Miranda B., the dancer, at Ranelagh, and another to Chloe S., at Madame Turk's, the Fleet-street milliner. The one shall have her jewels next week, the other her promised trip to Hampstead Wells-thus the old girl's money shall go-faugh!" (To be concluded in our next.) * He fell in the fight of the brave, And who, tell me who but a dastard, would crave Or a shroud than the soldier's less gory? He fell in the warm glow of youth, The bravest and first in the onset! Fare thee well, gallant Ff*****! fare thee well! When thy spirit was wrung, and thy young hope But it slumbers now sweetly and calmly! We regret that the length of what was intended to be the last chapter of this tale has obliged us to divide it.-ED. With this passage from Southey's "Thalaba," we may very fitly introduce the observations which we have to make upon those anomalouswhat shall we call them, flowers, or animals? the sea-anemones, termed by naturalists Actiniæ, that term being applied by Cuvier to the first order of Polypes, meaning many-footed, which again belongs to the fourth class of Zoophites, a compound word from the Greek, signifying an animal and a plant. The great French naturalist called these actinia Fleshy Polypes; his countryman, M. de Blainville, distinguished them as Zoantharia; and Dr. Johnson, not Bozzy's" Johnson, but a modern namesake, and our great authority in these matters, honours them with the euphonious title, Zoophyta Helianthoidea. There! now let us fetch breath, and come out into the sunshine. What a wasteful expenditure of Greek there is now-adays! But one must be scientific, or he's nothing. And now, if our fair readers are not disgusted by this bit of pedantry, and will accompany us on another shore-ramble, we will endeavour to show them what it all means in plain English, and introduce to their notice some of the fairest flowers that adorn the great garden of Neptune. Methinks we can now hear the Nereïds sing ing "Here be treasures-pearly treasures! Here be all things rich and rare ; "Robes of gleaming crystal woven, Soft, and pure, and ever bright; Rich with all prismatic colours, Sparkling like the stars at night. "Here be cool alcoves and bowers, Mossy seats whereon to rest; All around are ocean-flowers, Tinted like the glowing west. "Fading not as flowers terrestrial, Though each moment brings a change, Ever more and more surprising, Into something new and strange. "Could we tell you all the wonders Hidden in our sparry home, "Long to sink to quiet slumber, Lulled by ocean melody, What a siren strain is this! Thus sung those of old, who would have tempted Ulysses, had he not been wise enough to close his ears, so that the enchanting melody could not penetrate them; thus sing the mermaids, that would lure wary mariners to their destruction; and thus ever to our imaginations are glorious pictures presented of things unattainable, so that we disregard the beauties and blessings scattered around us, and pine in sullen discontent for that which is a vain vision. Having disburdened our mind of which choice piece of morality, we will proceed with the proper subject of our paper. A rocky coast, a shingly beach, A stony ridge, with fuci black These are some of the homes and haunts of the actinia found upon our shores; not so large, and bright, and beautiful, perhaps, as those of tropical climes, but yet very fair to look upon; full of grace and elegance of form, and truly gorgeous in their hues, that is, when in a state of activity, covered by the clear waters, and glorified by the sunshine. Those who would see these animal flowers in all their beauty, must search for them while the sun is yet high in the heavens, and before the ocean tide has left the rocky slopes, amid which they frequently dwell. When not covered by their proper element, they assume the appearance of wrinkled fleshy cones, in form something like an inverted jelly-shape, of a dull purple, or brown colour; sometimes they are studded with little tubercles, or beset with dots like minute beads; they may be smooth, or covered with fine silky hairs, or shorter points, like the pile of velvet. Not unfrequently they are elongated into what seem like wrinkled sausage-skins, if so unpoetical a simile may be allowed; and sometimes they are any shape, and no shape at all, like pieces of dirty putty stuck on to the rocks. In this state one would pass them by without notice; but wait awhile until the tide has covered them, and see what a marvellous change takes place then! First the form begins to swell and swell, and gradually assume shape and consistence, rising up boldly from its crouching position, as a slave from whose limbs the shackles have been stricken. "Ah! ah!" it seems to say, now is my time for enjoyment!" And as it sucks in the water, and becomes filled and distended, the puckered crown spreads, like the disk of the daisy or sunflower, and we see then a reason for the name, Helianthoidea, applied to this family of zoophites, the more especially when we observe that around the edge of this sun-like disk little filaments, like rays, begin to shoot forth, diverging as from a common centre. These filaments, too, are distended with water, and so are quite diaphanous; they are very numerous, and variously tinted in different individuals, so that a number of the actinia together make the rocky bed on which they are seated resemble a lovely flower-garden, rich with all variegated hues; and to add to the beauty of the effect, these little crystal tubes are never still; they move about with a constant rotary motion, causing what are called ciliary currents, from cilia hairs; which currents, like tiny whirlpools, draw towards the mouth of the creature (which is an orifice in the centre of the disk) marine animalcules, and other floating substances, which serve as food. It must not, however, be sup 66 posed that our sea-anemones are at all times satisfied with such unsubstantial fare as this, or that they are such weak and helpless creatures as to be unable to seize and secure larger and stronger prey. It appears that they secrete a poisonous fluid, which quickly destroys the life of any animal which they attack, or at all events renders it incapable of resistance. In some species this poison is stronger than in others, but it seems likely that all have it in a greater or less degree; and it has been proved by experiments, that human beings are affected by this poison in proportion to their amount of nervous susceptibility. If a finger be applied to the mouth of the animal while the tentacles are expanded, they will immediately close around it, producing in some cases only a slight tingling sensation, in others a smarting or burning pain. This is very curious, aud worthy of careful investiga tion. Thus ever does God furnish those creatures, which are apparently the most unable to sustain the attacks of others, or provide for the necessities of existence, with some power which shall compensate for the more obvious means and appliances, both of offence and defence, possessed by most living organizations. To look at one of these little semi-transparent cones or columns, like a painted bladder, with a silken fringe round the top, waving about in a very aimless and ridiculous fashion, as it seems, one can scarcely imagine that it possesses any power of defence, much less of injury; but let us suspend our judgment for a while, and we shall see if this impression be a correct one. Look! along with sideling motion comes a crab, armed at all points, and cased in mail: surely he means to make a hole in the side of the bladder, and let out the water, to see if there is anything worth eating inside. Round and round whirl the little tentacles, clear white or orange, scarlet or pink, as the case may be. Pretty playthings, Mr. Crab; why not cut them off, and use them to decorate your horny coat, and so improve its dull and dingy appearance? Closer and closer comes the testacean, picking up stray bits and morsels of any substance which might prove offensive, for he is the ocean scavenger, whose business it is to keep clean the sandy or rocky floor. Now the little threads whirl round more rapidly than ever, and the body of the anemone becomes more distended; through some of the tentacles fine jets shoot up into the surrounding fluid, while others lash away like tiny whips. The crab seems to think it good fun; gets closer and closer to enjoy the sport. Ah! what can it all mean? -not caught? Yes, enclosed in a silken network, the little tentacles are all around him, drawing him in to that gaping orifice in the centre. The subtle poison is doing its work, and the creature, which had at first struggled to escape, now lies passive and inert, and is gra dually sucked, claws and all, into that bag of a stomach, which by-and-by will be turned inside out to reject the indigestible portions of the prey. And this, O reader mine, is how our feeble zoophyte obtains a more substantial meal |