In

66

I say, old fellow," he remarked at length.

Now then, what is it?" I replied, laying down the newspaper I had been feigning to read. "It was a very jolly party last night; wasn't it?” "Not particularly, I think," I grumbled, as I returned to the advertisements.

"That fellow Sneezewowski, or whatever his name really is, danced that affair uncommonly well; didn't he?"

"I did not observe him. I thought it a horridly slow dance. I can't imagine how people can make such precious asses of themselves by hopping about in public like that."

successfully resisted, and made my way to the door, The next morning found Skipper and myself loungresolved to have at least the gratification of indulging over a late breakfast. Neither of us felt very ing, together with a chosen few who infest that part communicative, each apparently absorbed in his own of the room, and always make a point of laughing thoughts, and only relapsing occasionally into sociaat everybody who can dance, in a witticism or two bility, to confound the coffee which was too weak, at the expense of the illustrious exile. In this, how- and the ham, which was of too contrary a tendency. ever, I was disappointed. Count Thaddeus neither Skipper was evidently brimfull of something which tripped, nor stumbled, nor fell, nor protruded either he died to communicate, whilst he obviously did not of his boots through Aurelia's drapery. Miss Agatha know how to begin. Wall, by the way, proved by no means so fortunate as Aurelia. Her partner (who had been long waiting for an opportunity of dancing; though without the express intention of making his début in a new figure,) after audibly begging her pardon at least a dozen times for sundry flying kicks administered at irregular intervals, ended his unprecedented exertions by seating the fair danseuse upon the knees of an elderly gentleman who had been drawn from the whist-table in order to be a witness of the scene. vain I sought Aurelia's eye, if only for an instant, that she might express by a glance the bore she must feel it to be whirling about, now in this corner and now in that, now spinning round in the middle of the room like a teetotum, and now again flying off at a tangent from a couple of those patient folk who are generally content to act as buffers in the general mêlée. But no: Aurelia was too busily engaged to be [conscious that I was even in the room. She appeared flushed too; but whether her colour was attributable to the exercise of the dance or enjoyment of the scene, I was too impatient to determine. At length the limbs of the fanatics waxed faint: feebler and feebler the very musicians plied their vocations; and with a general crash of instruments and scuffle of feet, everybody stood still, heated and panting. The dance was over, and I endeavoured to rejoin Aurelia; but, to my mortification, I perceived that she was still leaning on the arm of that atrocious Pole, who was leading her down stairs to the carriage, in the wake of her mamma, whom my little friend, Alfred Skipper, was escorting in great pomp, and with much visible satisfaction. The faithless girl was apparently framing pretty excuses why her jaded bouquet should not be transferred to the bosom of Count Thaddeus; and as I followed close behind, I was compelled to overhear a part of their dialogue.

"Do, miss, now, if it sal please you; do give him unto me. I will keep him all for meself, and put him into waters, when I sal be at 'ome in Lesterre Square."

Well, I don't know that is so absurd after all. What would you say if I was to tell you that I was going to learn the polka?”

You, Skipper?" I gasped in surprise.

"Is there anything so superlatively ridiculous in the idea of my dancing the polka ?" inquired my small friend.

No-not ridiculous, Skipper; but" (I longed to say, "You are too short, Skipper," but I durst not,) I think it is a dance which would not suit a man like yourself: it is too frivolous."

"Oh! hang frivolous! I don't think Miss Baker found it frivolous last night. She seemed to get on pretty well with the Count."

If you want to put yourself on a par with a hungry Pole, pray learn the polka."

I'd learn it at

He's a good-looking fellow too. once if I thought it would make me like him." "Oh! you need merely go without your dinner and let your beard grow," I growled, with a kick that sent all the fire-irons flying.

"I don't know anything about that," said Skipper; "but I mean to learn the polka, and Count Thaddeus has put me up to a place where they teach you in no time."

66

See you taught first," I replied.

"Oh! I am sure nobody would care for these poor faded things. See-that rose is quite dead. Mam- "As you please: only don't afterwards complain ma, what do you think papa will do to Count Thad-of my having cut you out, that's all," and the little deus for keeping the horses waiting so long ?"

"I shall teach mister, your papa, de polka, and he sal forgive me everything. Ah! here we are!"

And now the shawl had been arranged for the last time, and the bouquet had been dropped by accident as the carriage drove off, leaving the count and Alfred Skipper in triumph on the steps.

"Are you ready to go?" I asked Skipper who clubbed with me in Piccadilly.

"Yes, in one minute," he answered; but added, that the Count Thaddeus had proffered his company; so whilst the two were endeavouring to find hats that possessed a crown, I slipped out to try the air of the square, and think over what had passed.

wretch chuckled obviously.

I surveyed my small friend with a glance which I flattered myself went further than any verbal reply I might make to this remark. It was compounded of the following reflections:-How prone little men are to swaggering; and when they swell their small carcasses the fullest, how much the more empty and insignificant do they appear!

From that time I rather avoided Skipper's society. I was piqued-I knew not why-but chiefly because he was going to learn this polka. What could it matter to me whether he wore pumps or boots, or whether he hopped upon one leg or two? But still I could not help feeling that Skipper was somehow

or other going to do the very thing that I had seen Thaddeus en passant. Skipper and myself were the Polish Count do the other evening. He would once more bosom friends, and were to be seen, at all dance with Aurelia Baker. He would perhaps,-to hours, in season and out of season, rushing about use his own impertinent expression,-cut me out! amongst our chairs and tables, practising in dressingThe worst of it was, he would not learn the infernal gown and slippers. Whilst thus engaged one morndance quietly. He would whistle snatches of outlan-ing, two notes were brought me. They ran as foldish melody, and accompany himself in one-two-lows:three-four times with his feet. If I went to bed

"Aurelia complains that we now never see you. Pray come and dine to-morrow at half-past seven. We shall be alone: but positively you are such a stranger, that you should have somebody to introduce you. Ever, dear Mr. Jones, most sincerely yours, MARIA BAKER."

early, he would in his return from his lessons, be" DEAR MR. JONES,
skating about the sitting-room half the night-strik-
ing, as he called it, whilst the iron was hot. If I
wanted to snooze of a morning, after having been up
late, he would, as a matter of course, be particularly
wakeful, and still skating, but with renewed vigour.
This state of things could not last long. I was get-
ting thin, off my feed, and miserable. I saw very
little of Aurelia. She had revenged herself upon me
by being, or pretending to be, piqued at my deter-
mined hostility to Count Thaddeus. One night I
again met her at a party. We had re-approached
our former position, and were growing pathetic, when
I heard the well-known air strike up, and saw every
other person's head in the room wagging like the
pendulum of an eight-day clock.

"Of course, you are going to dance the polka," I said.

"Yes," replied Aurelia, with one of her sweetest smiles. "I am going to dance with Mr. Skipper. You have no idea how nicely he dances it. He has only learnt so short a time. I wonder you don't learn it too."

Up came Skipper-gloves and boots as tight as wax. A bow, an arm, and-polka da capo.

That night worked a might revolution in me. made up my mind to learn it too!

I

I was walking home with Skipper. Taking my segar out of my mouth, and looking at it as though I were surprised to find it there, I asked,

"Where did you say you took your lessons in the polka?"

"At No. 14 Poland street. Are you going to learn it at last ?"

"No-yes-that is, I think it possible that I

may!"

"Well, I'm going there to-morrow evening to take a last lesson, and if you like to come, I'll introduce you to Mademoiselle de la Rose."

Mademoiselle Mélanie de la Rose had once been a princess, or something in her own right, and in her own country-two positions that are very often convertible. However, upon the same principle that her august sovereign had once upon a time given five shilling lessons in French to little English boys, this amiable and disinterested lady was good enough so far to forego the dignities of her rank, as to teach the polka in five lessons, and in Poland street. Mademoiselle was tall and thin, with the remains of a pretty foot and ankle, and a substratum of good looks well nigh rubbed out by too constant application to the rougepot. She was, of course, charmed to see me, and confident, from the very first, that I should prove the most promising of her élèves. Well, after graduating for some time with Alfred Skipper, with the occasional diversion of a fat, snuffy Frenchman, for my partner, I was pronounced as nearly perfect in the science as it was possible to make me. With what pride did I anticipate leading out my Aurelia in the dance, and occasionally treading on the feet of Count

"Gloucester Place, Monday morning."

"MON TRES-CHER MONSIEUR JONES,

"You did promise that you would come and dance one little more polka, in order to make you quite parfait. I shall wait for you dis evening, as I have two three young gentlemen, as will have de honour to meet you, and make up de class. "With sentiments of the very highest consideration, "I have the honour to be, Your very devoted servant, "MELANIE DE LA ROSE."

"14, Poland street, Monday morning."

As I rather piqued myself upon my notes, I cannot resist giving my replies. The first was to 'Mrs. Baker.

"With the greatest pleasure in the world.
"Ever yours,

"RICHARD JONES."

"300, Picccadilly, Monday morning."
IRRESISTIBLE MADEMOISELLE MELANIE,

"With mingled feelings of pleasure and pain do
I receive your note-pleasure, that I shall once more
have the inexpressible felicity of seeing you-pain,
that we shall meet for the last time. However, I
shall always remember the pleasant hours I have
passed in your society. I shall owe it entirely to
yourself if I prove successful in my new character;.
but alas! I fear that the lady of whom I have spok-
en to you, will not be as lenient a judge as you have
been.
Believe me, tout à vous

"300, Piccadilly, Monday morning."

"RICHARD JONES."

I hurried the notes into the envelopes, and sent them off to the post. That night, I took my last lesson, and a touching farewell of Mademoiselle Mélanie de la Rose. I had now arrived at the grand object for which I had been labouring. I could dance the polka! How would Aurelia thank me for all the trouble that I had taken!

The next evening-I felt it to be an eventful one, I took peculiar pains with my attire. I thought it not impossible that we might get up a tête-à-tête polka, as Mrs. Baker could play a very good country dance, which would do just as well. If I thought that it could interest my readers to know, I might indulge them in wondrous relations of the joinville, which, upon that occasion, graced my neck, and of

As well as can be expected! once more that extraordinary phrase. What could he mean. Deuce take the old fellow. I could almost swear that I saw something very like a tear in his eye, as he answered me. What could be the matter with him?

"That's well. Apropos, Jenkins tells me that you have something to say to me. I am all attention, sir."

"I have something to say to you. But cannot your own mind suggest to you its import?" demanded Mr. Baker.

"I fear my mind is not sufficiently original to suggest anything of the sort," I replied. 66 Confess my dear sir, what is the agreeable surprise you are plan

the silk boots, of marvellous texture, into which I in-
ducted my feet. Suffice it to say, that my personal
decorations were in a style utterly regardless of ex-
pense, and that, as I took a last glimpse at myself in
the glass, I pronounced myself, without vanity, as
doing full justice to them. I arrived at the door of
my Aurelia. In vain did I try to catch the fluttering
shadow of a muslin dress at the window; or, better
still, a pair of bright eyes looking furtively into the
street. The green blinds (most appropriately named
by our neighbours) were drawn down with unaccus-
tomed rigour. Every thing was as silent as the grave.
However, I was on such intimate terms with the
family, that, even supposing that I had mistaken the
night, I was in no immediate dread of the conse-
quences. I paid my cabman double his fare, follow-ning for me?"
ing the custom of scrupulous young gentlemen who
are anxious to avoid creating an unfavorable impres-
sion by engaging in a "combat of two-not in the
bills,"-upon the steps, and knocked loudly at the
door. Never before had I been kept waiting there
so long; and I call the sun, which was setting that
evening with peculiar brilliancy on my visage, to attest
the fact. At length the factotum of the Bakers
made his appearance; and there was in his demean-
our something of unusual dignity, almost amounting
to severity.

"I am not late, I hope."

66

"As for surprise, I cannot answer for that. I can but hope it will not be agreeable to you," he drily replied.

"In one word, sir, I am quite at a loss to imagine what you possibly can mean. Pray, enlighten me."

"I scarcely expected, Mr. Jones to have had the pleasure of your society this evening. However, I gave directions, that should you persist in coming-I beg you will not interrupt me-I might have the opportunity of making a final appeal to your feelings as a gentleman, and requesting that, as the only favour you could show me, you would not intrude your presence where it cannot be desirable. You have, indeed, played the farce too long, and you must

No, sir, you are not late. Master has been ex- excuse the spectators beginning to grow weary of pecting to see you, though, some little time."

"To see me, has he? Where is he?" "Will you be pleased to walk into the library, sir?"

Now, when fathers of families request bachelors to accompany them in a "constitutional," into that part of the house they are pleased for the nonce to designate, as "library," "study," and so forth, and to invite discussion upon matters of social finance in connexion with daughters in the drawing-room, it is a fearful moment. But I vow that, having survived the terrors of a similar interview, I was rather taken aback upon the present occasion, without having actual grounds to anticipate anything one quarter so dreadful. I had no time, however, to indulge in either fear or surprise, as Mr. Jenkins opened the library-door, and I was, forthwith, face-to-face with my future father-in-law.

"How do you do, my dear sir?" I said, anxious to have the first word; as I really was afraid, from the ominous look of the old gentleman, that something was wrong.

"I am quite well, I thank you, Mr. Jones," returned Mr. Baker, with a prodigious emphasis on the personal pronoun.

"I was afraid that I might not have had the pleasure of meeting you this evening. I thought you might have gone to the Royal Institution."

"This is Tuesday evening, and you are aware there is no lecture there," gravely returned my " beau père."

"Oh! true.

But how is Madame, and Aureliahow is she? I have not seen her for an age." "My wife is pretty well, thank you; and Aurelia is as well as can be expected."

the performance. However that may be, sir, I am a father."

I was about to express my deep rooted conviction of the fact, but he prevented me.

"I am a father, sir, and, as a father, I have duties am bound to see that the feelings of my daughter are to perform, which do not admit of any delay; and I not tampered with by a man who has too little regard for himself to be able to appreciate them. I must be permitted to remark, Mr. Jones, that I cannot but think you are compromising your own character, as well as the affections of my daughter, by carrying on a secret correspondence with another woman, at the same time that you are professing to pay your addresses to Aurelia."

"What can you mean Mr. Baker?" I asked, in a state of the most utter stupefaction.

That, sir, will doubtless explain all to the least candid capacity," and he tossed towards me my note of the preceding day to Mademoiselle Mélanie de la Rose.

Can anybody be surprised, after this, that I made

my misery in the lumbering vehicle. Whether the a vow never to dance again, and-kept it.

A POLISH POET'S IMPRESSIONS OF RUSSIA.

ST. PETERSBURGH.

Equipages without number,
Of all sorts, the streets encumber;
Flash above the sledges near,
And swift and noiseless disappear-

As fantastic shadows pass

O'er the camera's wizard glass.

On the English carriage sits

The bearded Jehu-coat and beard,
Mustachios, eyebrows, even his wits,
With the hoar-frost oversmear'd:
He cracks his whip; before him skirr
"Horsed youngsters, clad in skin and fur-
True babes of Boreas! At their whistle,
The scampering crowd each other jostle;
A cloud of little sleds fly
Before the carriage fearfully-
As of white ducks you may mark
A flock, before a sailing barque.
There, pedestrain thousands run
From the cold they cannot shun;
No one stops to look or speak;
All eyes are closed, all faces bleak,
Hands rub on hands, on shoulders clatter,
And teeth in shivering jawbones chatter;
And every mouth gives out a column

Of vapour, straight, thick, long and solemn-
That one is tempted to be witty,
And swear the chimnies walk the city!

On the paths, two crowded ranks
Stretch themselves, like a possession,
Or like unto the frozen banks
Of a river's swift progression.
And whither, careless of the cold,
Do these people manifold,
Like a flock of sables, go?
'Tis the fashion, you must know,
At this hour to promenade:

It freezes, and the wind is keen;
But who of either is afraid?
The Czar, they know, is to be seen
A foot, as is his custom old;
His Empress; and the Ladies all
Of the Court Imperial !

Marshals, dames, and dignitaries,
As Etiquette the order carries,

In two well-drill'd files advance;

First, second, fourth,-as cards that glance

From a gamester's rapid hand;

Kings, queens, and knaves; the great, the small;

Both red and black-a motely band!

All these keep pacing to and fro

On either side the spacious street,
And o'er the little bridges beat,

Whose brilliant granites sparkling glow.
Before them tramps each Court-official:
One is wrapt in a warm fur;
But himself doth half expose,
His four crosses to disclose;

He chills to the heart without demur,

So long as to his honours special

All men's eyes administer:

Whilst his proud gaze seeks for those
Whom as equal-rank'd he knows,
Like a very reptile he

Drags on in his obesity!

Farther forth, young Guardsmen walk-
Finish'd models of the mode;

Straight and slim as pike or stalk,
And waisted small as any wasp.
Farther still, with shoulders bow'd,
Diplomatists crawl on, and gasp;
And, with furtive eye, discern

To whom to crouch, from whom to turn;
And all, sleek, supple bent-on-heap,
Scorpion-like, self-shrinking, creep!

The Court departs; and, one by one,
All the carriages are gone,

A lingering few alone remain
Of all the crowd pedestrian;
Whom (the receding splendor eyeing,
And of coughs consumptive dying)
Your hear exclaim: "O. glorious sight!
O, promenade of huge delight!

I've seen the Czar! Of the honour proud,
To the General's self have bow'd;
Caught his smile, which so engages!
And have spoken-to the pages!"

HOURS IN HINDOSTAN.

A FAC SIMILE.

What then must have been my surprise, as I walked up the principal staircase of his house, to hear a sudden scream of terror, and in the next moment to find a wretch fly past me with a fleetness which a smart kick alone could have imparted to his motions; for the fugitive was evidently a Chinese, (or, as we call them in Bengal, a Chinaman-one of a race who never hurry their movements save by compulsion,) and, on looking up, to perceive L. rush out after him, uttering a volley of the most violent execrations!

I HAD landed at Agra, and seen the wonderful | mildest and most gentlemanly men in British India. Targe, (I always spell Hindostannee as it is pronounced,) with its splendid pillars inlaid with precious stones; though some persons profess to be sceptical on this subject, and boldly assert that the original rubies and emeralds have long since made place for coloured glass. I had visited the old man who has for twenty years lived (according to his son's account) inside the great gun which lies upon the beach. I had seen some of the wonderful tricks of a famous juggler who was exhibiting in this far-famed city. At length, tired of lionizing, I walked out to pay my respects to Mr. L., the government resident, one of the

On seeing me, my usually quiet friend suddenly stopped, ashamed at being thus caught in this most