_indebted_ to _them_ for _their waits_, and also for their _wait-ing_
upon us on the day ycleped boxing-day.

But to return to our subject; independent of the origin of the waits, or
of the persons so called, as relates to the institution in England,
which is, comparatively, of modern date, _it appears there were
peculiar to the Romans_ a description of individuals, who, in their
offices and character, answered to our waits, and from whom there is no
doubt the latter were derived; these, among the Romans, were called
_spondaulae_, from which I conceive the _waightes_, or _waites_,
of our ancient kings were borrowed. The _Roman waites_, or _spondaulae_,
were a description of vocal and instrumental musicians, who performed a
hymn, whose measure consisted of spondees, (a poetic foot, formed of two
long syllables,) which was sung, accompanied by the flute, or other wind
instrument, while the priest offered the sacrifice, and the incense was
burning, to procure the favour of the gods; the waits, or spondaulae,
continuing their music, to prevent the priest from hearing sounds of ill
omen, which might disturb the ceremony, or divert his attention. It has
been suggested, in this view of the origin of the waits, which many
writers consider to be the real source of the custom, that they are
altogether anti-christian, and of heathen and idolatrous foundation, and
of consequence have neither allusion to, nor connexion with, our
festivities at Christmas _at any period_.

City Road.

L. DESORMEAUX.

* * * * *

ORIGIN OF LOVE.

FROM THE MADRIGALS OF GUARINI.

(_For the Mirror_.)

Cupid one day, in luckless hour,
Observed a bee from flow'r to flow'r,
Hurrying on busy wing;
Thinking to gain the honied prize,
He strove the insect to surprise,
But quickly felt its sting.

Fired with revenge, he flew away
To where asleep my Julia lay,
On mossy bank reclin'd;
And while he sought relief to sip,
By kisses from her balmy lip,
He left the sting behind.

Thus if I now, in hours of bliss,
From her sweet mouth should steal a kiss,
I after feel the smart;
For when her rosy lips I've press'd,
And think myself supremely blest,
I bear the sting at heart!

E.L.J.

* * * * *

TOTTENHAM HIGH CROSS.

(_For the Mirror_.)

On entering Tottenham, on the right from London, is to be seen the
following inscription over