g in this strong-hold of old fashions, it is my
intention to make occasional sketches of the scenes and characters
before me. I would have it understood, however, that I am not writing
a novel, and have nothing of intricate plot, or marvellous adventure,
to promise the reader. The Hall of which I treat, has, for aught I
know, neither trap-door, nor sliding-panel, nor donjon-keep; and
indeed appears to have no mystery about it. The family is a worthy,
well-meaning family, that, in all probability, will eat and drink, and
go to bed, and get up regularly, from one end of my work to the other;
and the Squire is so kind-hearted an old gentleman, that I see no
likelihood of his throwing any kind of distress in the way of the
approaching nuptials. In a word, I cannot foresee a single
extraordinary event that is likely to occur in the whole term of my
sojourn at the Hall.

I tell this honestly to the reader, lest, when he finds me dallying
along, through every-day English scenes, he may hurry ahead, in hopes
of meeting with some marvellous adventure further on. I invite him, on
the contrary, to ramble gently on with me, as he would saunter out
into the fields, stopping occasionally to gather a flower, or listen
to a bird, or admire a prospect, without any anxiety to arrive at the
end of his career. Should I, however, in the course of my loiterings
about this old mansion, see or hear anything curious, that might serve
to vary the monotony of this every-day life, I shall not fail to
report it for the reader's entertainment:

For freshest wits I know will soon be wearie
Of any book, how grave so e'er it be,
Except it have odd matter, strange and merrie,
Well sauc'd with lies and glared all with glee.[1]

[Footnote 1: _Mirror for Magistrates_.]

THE BUSY MAN.

A decayed gentleman, who lives most upon his own mirth and my
master's means, and much good do him with it. He does hold my
master up with his stories, and songs, and catches, and such tricks
and jigs, you would admire--he is with him now.

--_Jovial Crew_.

By no one has my return to the Hall been more heartily greeted than by
Mr. Simon Bracebridge, or Master Simon, as the Squire most commonly
calls him. I encountered him just as I entered the park, where he was
breaking a pointer, and he received me with all the hospitable
cordiality with which a man welcomes a friend to another one's house.
I have already introduced him to the reader