SKETCHES AT BOW-STREET.-No. VI.

JOHN M'CARTHY appeared on a warrant to answer the complaint of his fair rib, Norah, for bating and ill-trating her.

John, it appeared, loved not only Norah, but, like Giovanni, had caused the lengthening of the apron-strings of more than two or three in his native place, the city of Cork. In England he had, like Macheath,

"Dallied and toyed with twenty fair maids;"

but, unfortunately for poor John, he was followed by three of his chere amies in different quarters. Norah had, however, gone to a fortin-teller's, to know the fate of one of her childer; and the old Sybil, who knew more than perhaps she ought

to do of John's affairs, lost sight of the young ones, and spoke only of the grown-up child. Norah's suspicions were roused, and she suffered the "Green-eyed Monster" to work on her vitals, but had the resolution to keep her feelings to herself for some time, during which period she determined on watching every movement of loving John.

The Devil, or some evil spirit, threw in the way of John, Miss Margaret Sullivan; and John, humming to himself the Good old days of Adam and Eve, turned into a whisky shop. They had just got a naggin before them, when in came Norah! The scene that followed may be conjectured, but not described. Who was to have John-Norah or Margaret?-John thought at that time

"How happy could I be with either,
Were t'other dear devil away."

And without stopping to soothe either, off he
bolted, and left them to settle the matter as they
could, thinking he should certainly escape from
one of them. In this he was mistaken, for he
was followed home by the two; and, in a rage,
turned to, and beat his wife with a birch broom.
Margaret did not escape in the scuffle, but as she
found faithless John was the property of another,
she declined making any charge against him.
John, when called on for his defence, seemed
inclined to soothe the matter, and on an under-
taking that Norah alone should enjoy his love,
and not his hatred or ill usage, the affair was dis-
missed, leaving the warrant open if he again
transgressed.
Bell's Life in London.

MINISTERIAL FAME.

TO THE CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER.

Nos quoque floruimus, sed flos fuit ille caducus.-OVID. Trist. 5.

We Ministers flourish by turns in the round,
But fading the flower, and soon on the ground.

THY lib'ral principles we see,

Have heap'd a load of fame on thee,
Thou great Reformer of the age!
But those who held the reins before,
Were lauded full as much or more,
Then where's the good of being sage?

Thou cunning seest this jilting Fame
Can go as quickly as she came,

And only mock the sons of men.-
Hence hast thou learnt from onet, 'tis clear,
How to secure her "half a year,"

As thus, thou "must build Churches then!"

* The Alien Bill is one; for it would be a pretty thing indeed to be compared to Jews:-" One law shall be to him that is home ́born, and unto the stranger that sojourneth among you.”—EXODUS, chap. xii. v. 40.

+ "Oh, Heavens! die two months ago, and not forgotten yet! then there's hope a great man's memory may out-live his life half a year; but by'r lady, he must build churches then."-HAMLET, Act 3, Sc. v.

Half a year is something, but the error of all great men, from those of ancient days down to Napoleon, is, that they don't know the exact time when they ought to hang themselves.

Si sircumducto captivorum agmine, et omni

Bellorum pompâ, animam exhalâsset opimam, &c.

The hour of success or popularity is, says JUVENAL, the critical moment. We throw out this friendly hint for the serious consideration of ministers during the recess :

"descending from his state

In that blest hour, he should have beg'd his fate."-Dryden.

Chronicle.

THE VEGETATIVE PISTOL.

COURT OF REQUESTS.

O'REILLY versus FAGAN.

THIS case came on to be heard before the Commissioners, and excited a good deal of amusement in a very crowded court. We have obtained an accurate short-hand report of the proceedings.

Crier. Tim. O'Reilly!-Tim. Here, your Onor! Crier. Larry Fagan!-Larry. Aint I under your nose?

Crier. Come into court!-and the plaintiff and defendant entered, each taking his sconce by the fore-lock, and dragging it down, as an apology for an obedience.

Commissioner. Well, Mr. O'Reilly, what have you to say against Mr. Fagan?

Tim. A great dale, your Onor.

Commissioner. Make it as short as you can, Mr. O'Reilly; for we have abundance of business this morning. How was this debt of thirtynine shillings and eleven-pence three farthings incurred?

Tim. Devil an incur there's in it, plase your Onor; bekase its the price of a fowling-piece of mine that he has, and I can't get it out of his clutches, by no means at all at all.

Commissioner. Did you lend it to him?
Tim. Devil a lend, your Onor.

Commissioner. Did you sell it to him?

Tim. Devil a sell, your Reverence.

Commissioner. Come, then, tell us all about it.

Tim. An' that I will, your Worship, [and he wiped his mouth, and pulled up his unmentionables]. You must know, your Worship, that this man, that is to say, Larry Fagan here's father and mine were gossips, and lived at Scullabogue, in Ireland.

Commissioner. At where?

Tim. At Scullabogue, to be sure, your Onor. Commissioner. I'm afraid I should split my skull, if I were to have that name to repeat often. Tim. Devil a split, your Onor; 'tisn't a little thing that'd split that. (A laugh).

Commissioner. Go on, if you please.

Tim. It's I that will, your Onor. Larry Fagan's father that's there; no, he's not there naither, bekase he's dead-but Larry's father comes in one day to my father, that's dead too, and says he, “Tim.” (for my father was a Tim. before me), "is it yourself that'll lend me your gun to shoot ould grumpy;"-(that was the name of a sow of his, your Reverence)-" bekase I think she's dying of owld age, and I'd just put her out of her misery?"-"Faith and to be sure I will," says my father that was; "but the devil a powther or shot I have."-" Never mind that," says owld Fagan-God rest his soul!" powther or no powther, I'll be bound I'll do for her;" and with that my father gives him the gun from off the mantle, where I remembered it from the hour of my birth; and out he goes. Well, your Onor, I thought I'd folly him, to see the sow shot-and

out I goes too.

Commissioner. What! then he went to shoot the pig without powder or shot!