w grows weak on his stumps;
Assist him, ye rascals, to stand!
Why, ye stir not a peg! Are you all in the dumps?
Fighting Attie, go, lend him a hand!

(The robbers crowd around Gentleman George, each, under pretence of
supporting him, pulling him first one way and then another.)

Come, lean upon me,--at your service I am!
Get away from his elbow, you whelp! him
You'll only upset,--them 'ere fellows but sham!
Here's to Gentleman George,--God help him!
God help him, God help him!
Here's to Gentleman George, God help him!

CHAPTER XI.

I boast no song in magic wonders rife;
But yet, O Nature! is there nought to prize,
Familiar in thy bosom scenes of life?
And dwells in daylight truth's salubrious skies
No form with which the soul may sympathize?
Young, innocent, on whose sweet forehead mild
The parted ringlet shone in simplest guise,
An inmate in the home of Albert smiled,
Or blessed his noonday walk,--she was his only child.

Gertrude of Wyoming.

O time, thou hast played strange tricks with us; and we bless the stars
that made us a novelist, and permit us now to retaliate. Leaving Paul to
the instructions of Augustus Tomlinson and the festivities of the Jolly
Angler, and suffering him, by slow but sure degrees, to acquire the
graces and the reputation of the accomplished and perfect appropriator
of other men's possessions, we shall pass over the lapse of years with
the same heedless rapidity with which they have glided over us, and
summon our reader to a very different scene from those which would be
likely to greet his eyes, were he following the adventures of our new
Telemachus. Nor wilt thou, dear reader, whom we make the umpire between
ourself and those who never read,--the critics; thou who hast, in the
true spirit of gentle breeding, gone with us among places where the
novelty of the scene has, we fear, scarcely atoned for the coarseness,
not giving thyself the airs of a dainty abigail,--not prating,
lacquey-like, on the low company thou has met,--nor wilt thou, dear and
friendly reader, have cause to dread that we shall weary thy patience by
a "damnable iteration" of the same localities. Pausing for a moment to
glance over the divisions of our