disposal. Miss Caroline Bradshaw had been brought up at a boarding-school in the suburbs of London, and remained there after her education was deemed finished, till within a few months of the expiration of her minority, at which time it was proposed by her uncle that she should take up her residence in his house. As his fair ward had, in addition to a pretty face, the attraction of fifteen hundred pounds, Mr Bradshaw had, during those few months, several overtures for her hand; but, to the dismay of the rival candidates, it was at length discovered that Mr George Smithson, who was amongst the number, was the favoured individual. This circumstance caused Mrs Bradshaw considerable uneasiness. Unhappily for her own prospects, she had no reason to alter the opinion she had formed concerning the young man. She foresaw that poverty and misery must be the termination of the career he was pursuing, and she trembled lest her niece should be involved in the ruin he was bringing upon himself, and she feared on them also. She made several appeals to her husband, begging him, as he valued the happiness of his brother's child, to warn her of the precipice on which she stood; but he was deaf to her pleadings. Caroline is old enough to choose a husband for herself, and I shan't interfere in the matter,' he on one occasion angrily returned. 'I would not certainly have any hand in making up the match, because people might say that I wanted to keep her money in my own hands for the use of the firm; but she shall certainly do as she pleases.' The wife had next recourse to arguments with the young lady herself; but Miss Caroline thought her own judgment superior in such matters to that of her good aunt. Mrs Bradshaw then tried to delay a union which she could not prevent. She represented to her husband that if he withheld his consent for twelve months, he would by that time see how the young man conducted himself in the connection he had already formed with the family, and thus have a better opportunity of judging whether there was any prospect of happiness for his niece. Poor Mr Bradshaw's prejudices concerning the superior judgment of his own sex came again into full play. He was angry at what he termed his wife's pertinacity in groundless apprehensions, and persisted in saying he should let the young people follow their own course. The result was, that Miss Caroline Bradshaw became Mrs Smithson on the very day that she attained her majority.

how much better it would be to dissolve the firm at once, and thus save himself from absolute ruin. Had this advice come from any other quarter, it is probable that Mr Bradshaw would have seen and acknowledged its wisdom. Indeed, as it was, he had his misgivings; but the fact of its being urged by his wife, was a sufficient reason why he should pursue a contrary course. The result was, that at the expiration of a few months, the names of Bradshaw and Smithson appeared in the Gazette amongst the list of bankrupts; and a very inconsiderable dividend had they to offer, for Smithson had given bills upon the credit of the firm to a large amount, having in the meantime launched out into expenses which a capital of five thousand, instead of fifteen hundred pounds, would scarcely justify. Nor was this all. He had, during his residence in London, formed connections with several dissolute young men, who, being, like himself, in want of sufficient means to gratify their extravagant desires, occasionally had recourse to fraudulent acts in order to supply those means. This was discovered just at the time his commercial affairs were finally settled; and the consequence was, that he was obliged to fly the country, leaving his unhappy wife in a most destitute and hopeless condition.

Poor Mr Bradshaw was in a state bordering on insanity. His naturally weak mind sunk under an accumulated load of sufferings, which, in spite of his inordinate self-esteem, he could not but feel had been brought on by his own want of prudent forethought. He was really distressed beyond measure at the contemplation of the misery in which it had involved his gentle wife and innocent children; his niece's distress, too, and consequent illness, gave additional poignancy to the stroke. He could not but feel that he had not fulfilled the part of a father or guardian towards her; and that her premature death, or the horrors of her future life, would be alike owing to this fact. Mrs Bradshaw was the only person capable of action, and she in this emergency displayed an energy of character which was little expected, but which could alone be of any avail in saving her family from a total wreck. Her kind and judicious treatment of the unhappy young wife restored her, in a short space of time, to some measure of health; and her prudent counsel then induced her to make an effort for self-support, by means of the education which she had received. The task of soothing the irritated feelings, and calming the perturbed spirit of her husband, was less easy; yet this she in time had the hap

Three weeks after his niece's marriage, Mr Bradshaw received a letter from his young partner, stating that he had just had the offer of a dashing shop in Regent Street on very advantageous terms; that they wished, therefore, to take up their residence in London, instead of returning to B- ; and that, in the event of Mr Bradshaw approving of the arrangement, he and his beloved Caroline were quite willing that the profits of the concern should be equally shared with their dear uncle. All he desired was, he said, to have the superintendence of the London business left wholly to himself. Mrs Bradshaw, with her customary penetration, perceived that this was likely to involve them in still greater trouble. She foresaw that it would enable Smithson to make what use he pleased of his partner's name; and now that he was removed from under their eye, it was likely that he would become more improvident and reckless than ever. She again ventured to expostulate with her husband, representing

do it by vaunting her superior judgment and forethought, and taxing him with being the cause of all the evils which had befallen them. She did not even vaguely allude to his folly, or to her having foretold the event. She merely endeavoured to show him that, however unprosperous his circumstances might be, her affection was unchanged, and her desire to share his fortunes unabated. She bore his petulance with calmness, and his only half-subdued pride with patience, trying to soften the rigour of their present situation, and selecting opportunities for offering wholesome advice, and forming judicious plans for the future. Though weak-minded and imprudent in the extreme, Bradshaw was not an unprincipled man. Notwithstanding the late unhappy affair, his character for integrity was not impeached. Mrs Bradshaw, therefore, advised that they should return to their late residence in Church Street, which was still untenanted, and recommence business on a small scale, trusting to the generosity of their former customers for a renewal of their favours. She went on to say that she would cheerfully confine the household expenditure within the limits of their profits, whatever they might be; and not only so, but proposed, if possible, laying aside some portion of those profits for the purpose of paying at least a part of the debts they had themselves incurred. Bradshaw listened, for the first time in his life, with something like complacency to this prudent counsel. He was too well satisfied with

the plan to raise even an objection; and though his pride would not allow him to acknowledge it, he was really much pleased with the part she had taken in the whole matter. Mrs Bradshaw, too unostentatious to feel any desire for commendation, was satisfied with accomplishing what she felt to be right, though she would certainly have been pleased with an expression of approbation, and she immediately set about the necessary preparations for removal.

B- had, for nearly a century, been one of those quiet country towns in which the only variations known are the deaths of the elder members of the families, and the younger ones springing up into their places-the changes of the seasons, and the alternations of day and night. The inhabitants had gone on for so many years in the same routine of events, that they looked upon anything which prognosticated advancement as an absolute evil. This state of things, however, had its day, and also its termination; for a railway was just at this period brought so near to the place, that it was deemed requisite to have a station there; and such a circumstance of course turned the heads of half the inhabitants, by exciting a desire for speculation. As in all other revolutions, the results were various to some it wrought evil, to others good. In this instance, however, the preponderance was of the latter; and amongst those individuals who benefited was Mr Peter Bradshaw. His small unpretending shop by degrees assumed a more substantial and stylish appearance; and three years subsequently to the period when we commenced our narrative, at which time his lease had expired, he was able to renew it on highly advantageous terms. The fact was whispered, and not without some ground, though he would not own its truth, that he on this occasion consulted his wife regarding the length of time it would be most prudent to extend it.

'But are you sure that my stay will not be deemed an intrusion by Mrs Bradshaw?' the traveller hesitatingly interposed; adding, 'It is not, I know, always agreeable to ladies to perform the rites of hospitality for a stranger, without any previous intimation of the visit.' 'Mrs Bradshaw never thinks of opposing anything I do or say,' the little man pompously returned. 'Indeed!'

'I wouldn't allow it; and, to do her justice,' he pursued, she never showed any inclination to dispute my authority. All the complaint I can make of her is, that she is a little too forward with her advice sometimes. But that has nothing to do with the present matter; she'll make you welcome, I promise you. I never yet knew her look black upon a guest, let me invite him when I would.'

You seem, my good friend, to have been lucky in your choice of a wife at all events,' the traveller observed; and your description of your home is so inviting, that I cannot resist the very strong inclination I have to avail myself of your kind offer.'

"That's just what I wanted you to do. I'm not a man for unmeaning compliments,' cried Bradshaw; and as he spoke, he with some difficulty linked his arm within that of his companion, and bustled towards his dwelling. Are you married, Rawlins?' he abruptly asked after a brief pause.

Oh yes, I've been married these seven years.' Then I shrewdly guess that you have been foolish enough to let your wife get the upper hand: is it so ?' 'You're quite mistaken there, my friend. My idea of happiness in married life is for man and wife to go hand in hand, and to have no upper hand in the matter.' Oh-oh! that is your opinion, is it? Well, I can't say it is mine. I could never live with a woman who did not allow me to be master.'

'Nor I, my friend; but then I would, at the same time, allow her to be mistress.'

Then you are under female rule, after all, Rawlins?' Not a bit of it; but I am under female influence.' The friends had by this time reached the door of the

It is so on my part as well as on yours, my good friend,' our hero returned, surveying with a pleased expression the almost gigantic form of his quondam playfellow.

I lost sight of you when I settled in London,' the traveller resumed; but I've often thought of you. We used to be cronies at school, you know.'

'Yes,' Bradshaw rejoined, with a very undignified 'he-he-he!' 'You used to fight my battles, correct all my exercises, and work my sums, for I never had much taste for such things.'

'No, nor ability neither,' thought his auditor; but he loved his little protégé, from the very fact of his having always looked up to him as a protector and friend, and was really pleased with having met him again.

'Come home and take supper with me, and I'll introduce you to my gcod lady,' Bradshaw continued. I've been an unlucky wight, but I'm getting on pretty comfortably now. How has the world treated you?"

Oh, I've managed at least to avoid failure; but I'll accept of your kind invitation when I've secured a bed at the inn, and then we'll make mutual revelations.'

Bradshaw's countenance, when told by her husband that he had brought home a guest for the night, and the alacrity with which she set about the necessary preparations for his accommodation, clearly indicated that the draper's statements were perfectly correct. The absence of the lady gave the gentlemen an excellent opportunity for unrestrained confidence. Rawlins would not have hesitated to tell his tale if Mrs Bradshaw had been present, but poor Mr Bradshaw never could allude to the circumstances of his late failure in the hearing of his wife. The shrewd reader may possibly give a broad guess for what reason, but it was unacknowledged even to himself. Rawlins, at the request of his host, related his story first; but as it was void of interest, excepting to those who had a personal regard for him, we will not tire the reader with the recital.

'My narrative is, you see, very barren of incident,' ¦ he observed as he concluded. I have had no hairbreadth escapes; no sudden reverses; no accounts of being dragged to a prison either for my own or any one else's debts; and now, shall I tell you what has been the key to my prosperity?'

'Why, you've been a fortunate fellow, that's all; you always were so; you never got into the scrapes that I did when you were a boy.'

'Fortune has had nothing to do with it, my friend,' Rawlins exclaimed. The secret of my success is this I made choice of a good partner; and'

Ah, you were lucky there at all events,' Bradshaw interposed. My partner has been my ruin.' Rawlins looked up in astonishment.

What! that quiet, gentle-looking woman?' he remarked. Why, I

'She! No, I don't mean her: I mean the partner I took into my concern.'

1

Rawlins laughed heartily at his own blunder. I beg Mrs Bradshaw's pardon a thousand times,' he said; 'but, my good fellow, I was alluding to my wife when I spoke of my partner. I have had no other partnerI have needed none.'

'I took a young man into my business because he brought a thousand pounds, but he turned out a sad rogue.'

Ah, I had no such inducement,' Rawlins interposed. 'I selected a partner with good sense and good principles; that was of far more value than a thousand pounds; and the secret of my success, my friend, is my having made use of those qualifications, and placed unbounded confidence in her."

The little draper looked somewhat disconcerted, and glanced quickly round, to observe if Mrs Bradshaw were within hearing.

'Pshaw!' he pettishly exclaimed; 'you've been a fortunate fellow, that's the upshot of the matter.'

I tell you once more, my good friend, that fortune had nothing to do with it; but we wont get into a dispute. Let me hear your story; I fancy it has more interest than mine.'

Bradshaw was not sorry to change the subject; and putting on a very dolorous aspect, he commenced his woful tale. Happy would he have been had Rawlins allowed him to proceed without interruption; but, as the poor little draper thought, some evil genius possessed him, and induced him to make occasional queries, which were by no means pleasant to answer. These were-But what did your wife say to this?' 'What did Mrs Bradshaw advise?' Surely Mrs Bradshaw was more quicksighted?' 'Women are good advisers in such cases,' &c. The poor man got more nervous than ever when obliged to confess that Mrs Bradshaw had opposed his taking the new shop and the long lease; that she did object to young Smithson as a partner; and that she had done her utmost to prevent his niece's marriage; but he made an attempt to get out of the raillery which, though not very quicksighted himself, he could not but foresee would follow, by lamenting that he had been born under such an unlucky planet.

The planets have had no more to do with your disasters than I have, my worthy friend,' Rawlins interrupted him by exclaiming; but I'll give you a piece of information for which, if you make good use of it, you'll thank me if, at the end of another ten years, we should meet again.'

Oh, I hope we shall meet long before that!' cried Bradshaw.

I hope we shall; but be that as it may, you will thank me for the information whenever you see me.' 'Pray, what may it be?'

I am afraid you will not make use of it without a little reluctance,' Rawlins resumed; but I'm confident that the result will fully recompense you for the effort it may cost you. It is this, my friend :-All your misfortunes have arisen from your having pursued a course diametrically opposed to that which I have taken; that is, from your having scorned the counsel of your wife.' Poor Bradshaw at that moment wished his old schoolmate anywhere but where he was; still he made no remark.

6

Now, I tell you what it is, my good fellow,' Rawlins proceeded, we lords of the creation are apt to plume ourselves on a superiority we do not possess. We give the ladies credit for affection, gentleness, kindness, and all that sort of thing, but we fancy that all the intelligence, good sense, and sagacity are thrown into our scale-that is, our pates. I had an early opportunity of observing this. My father and a twin brother were partners in business, and occupied adjoining houses. They married, and commenced the world together, and they were as alike in character as in age. They were upright, well-meaning men, and were, in consequence, much esteemed; but they both held the lordly views of which I spoke. My father, happily for his family, made a wise choice in his partner for life; but there his wisdom

ended: he scorned to make use of her good sense and judgment, supposing, like you, that women ought not to be consulted in any matters beyond the household economy. My uncle was less happy in his selection. He married a giddy, thoughtless woman. Still, had he treated her with confidence, and showed her that he considered she had an equal interest with himself in his commercial success, he might possibly have corrected her thoughtlessness; but as this was not the case, she was always carrying on some petty deception, which wholly destroyed their original peace. I learned a valuable lesson, however, from their experience. Thinks I to myself, when I marry, I'll have a wife I can trust, and then I will trust her. She shall see that I expect her to take an interest in my wellbeing in everything. She shall be my confidant in every affair relating to my interest or my feelings; and she shall have no temptation to deceive me, because she shall not have any cause to complain that I am ungenerous. Well, I put these resolves into practice, and it has fully answered my expectations. Depend upon it, my friend,' he concluded, perceiving his companion was lost in a fit of musing-depend upon it, there is no happiness in the marriage state without mutual confidence. The more a woman is trusted, the more she will feel that the interests of her husband are her own; and I believe that extravagant, mismanaging wives, are more frequently made so by the want of this confidence than by any other circumstance.'

The entrance of Mrs Bradshaw, followed by a little handmaid with a well-cooked savoury supper, put a stop to the conversation, also to poor Bradshaw's reverie; and in performing the rites of hospitality to his friend, he forgot, or at least pardoned, his telling him a truth which no one had ever had the moral courage to tell him before.

It was nearly three years ere the two friends again met, and then it was by the same fireside, though the room they occupied contained many useful and ornamental articles which it had not done at the former meeting. Mrs Bradshaw being present the greater part of the evening, Rawlins could not allude to the subject of their last conversation; but he thought, from the fact of her being present, that there was some improvement in the quarter where he most desired it. At length he found an opportunity of whispering a word in Bradshaw's ear; but as it was a whisper, and only heard by the person to whom it was spoken, we cannot be expected to make the reader acquainted with it. The answer of the little draper will, however, possibly elucidate the mystery. It was this: 'I've not forgotten it, my good fellow; I've not forgotten your prophecy, and I can't help fulfilling it. Thank ye-thank ye!'

GENUINE CONVERSATION OF A CURIOUS MAN. A GENTLEMAN remarkable for his curiosity, retired in his latter days to a rural villa near one of the principal rivers in Scotland, where time used to hang rather heavily on his hands. Nevertheless, his curiosity was active, and he was wont to go forth every day to the roads, and to a ferry station in his neighbourhood, where he would assail travellers of all kinds, in order to make them give an account of themselves. He would make even beggars stand and deliver-their histories; after which they were usually surprised when he gave them only a civil good-morning. A lady who lived near his house was one morning walking in her garden, when she became an involuntary listener to the following conversation, in which she was herself referred to; the interlocutors being the curious man and a peasant whom she had despatched on a small piece of business:Well, honest man, what's this you've got in your cart ?' 'Some draff.'

No. 199. NEW SERIES.

THE LITTLE DANCING-MASTER. POLYDORE JASMIN was, as he said himself, a professor of the Terpsichorean art;' in plainer terms, a dancing- | master. Being a short-legged, dumpy little man, nature did not seem to have intended him for any extraordinary feats of agility; but an irresistible vocation had enabled him to overcome every physical obstacle. As he was a married man, and the father of seven children, he remained poor, in spite of the almost supernatural industry with which he applied himself to his art both day and night. Instead of owning a handsome and fashionably-situated salon de danse, he was allowed to waste his talents in a damp cellar-like room, looking on the yard of a dingy house in the Rue St Denis, where he daily revealed the mysteries of the light muse to the smart shopmen and pretty grisettes of the neighbourhood.

Still, Monsieur Jasmin was a contented, and even a happy man: the lightness and buoyancy of his profession seemed to have passed into his heart. His manners, however, were very grave and dignified; and when he danced, he became so solemn, that his pupils, like the courtiers of the Grand Monarque on a similar occasion, remained struck with awe at the imposing sight. To say the truth, M. Jasmin had a respect for dancing; he looked upon it as a very grave affair, and could not bear to hear it lightly spoken of, or turned into ridicule. If anything could tend to increase M. Jasmin's natural equanimity of temper, it must have been the high opinion he entertained of his art, his own person, and his family. Madame Polydore Jasmin, according to him, possessed the gift of eternal youth; at least he solemnly averred-and he believed it-that she had not altered in the least since the day of their first meeting, when her coal-black eyes, rosy cheeks, and pleasant smile first won his tender heart. Others averred that cares and anxiety had rendered the poor woman pale and thin, and that she was only the shadow of her former self; but of this he saw and knew nothing, and his love for his wife remained unabated. She was a good, simplehearted woman, well deserving of affection, and entirely devoted to her family: her love and veneration for her husband were unbounded: she entertained, moreover, the deepest respect for dancing, and looked upon M. Jasmin as the high priest of that mysterious art. The children of this worthy couple were like their parentscontented, good-humoured, and simple-hearted: their education was very carefully attended to; for there had not been danced a pas in France since the days of Louis XIV. with which they were not thoroughly acquainted. Amongst the few acquaintances of M. and Madame Jasmin, who were rather shy and reserved, was one of their neighbours, M. Bourreux, a disagreeable, satirical old man, who had no children, was thought to be in

PRICE 14d.

easy circumstances, continually talked about making his will, and seemed privileged to say whatever he pleased, without giving offence, to any of the families which he daily visited-teasing the children, annoying the parents, and turning the household arrangements into ridicule, during the whole time of his stay. On a fine summer evening this amiable individual condescended to pay M. Jasmin a visit. To the dancing-master's surprise, he was unusually gracious. The high polish of Madame Jasmin's bees'-waxed floors seemed to transport him with admiration: by an adroit transition he contrived to connect the subject with M. Jasmin's proficiency in his art; and he was so eloquent on both topics, that the heart of the dancing-master's wife swelled with pride, whilst equally gratifying feelings agitated her husband. In his sudden fit of amiability, M. Bourreux even attempted to pat the heads of the children, and say a few kind words, but they all drew away with instinctive mistrust. When his stay had been somewhat prolonged, M. Bourreux rose to depart; but, as though suddenly recollecting himself, he turned towards his host, and with a bland smile observed, 'My dear Monsieur Jasmin, allow me to congratulate you before I go; I am indeed delighted.'

M. Jasmin opened his eyes very wide, and seemed bewildered; his wife looked at him as though for an explanation. M. Bourreux continued: It is perhaps indiscreet in me to mention this so early; but I really could not command my feelings.'

The dancing-master and his wife exchanged glances: 'What could this mean?'

'What!' exclaimed the visitor; 'can you be unacquainted with an event concerning you so nearly? Nay, then, let me have the pleasure' And without finishing the sentence, he drew a newspaper from his pocket, and handed it with a smile to M. Jasmin. The dancingmaster mechanically glanced over the paragraph pointed out by M. Bourreux; but scarcely had he read a few lines, when he became very pale, and sank down on a seat.

'What is the matter, Polydore?' cried the alarmed Madame Jasmin.

"Tis only the effect of joy,' coolly remarked M. Bourreux; he will soon come round.'

But instead of coming round, M. Jasmin betrayed increasing emotion; his little gray eyes twinkled with tears; and mournfully shaking his head, he exclaimed in a broken tone, 'Poor fellow! I taught him how to dance: is it now come to this?' and with another shake of the head, expressive of the deepest melancholy, he allowed the paper to fall to the ground. Madame Jasmin hastily picked it up, looked over the paragraph which had so affected her husband, and fairly burst into tears, whilst M. Bourreux eyed them both with undisguised contempt. Not to keep the reader in suspense,