RESURRECTION MEN AT APPLEBY. THE resurrection men, who were reported to have been at Appleby, created considerable dismay amongst the children and old wives. One old woman, with portentous countenance, hurried into a friend's house with "Ha ye seen't resurrection men to-day ?"-"What! have they come to Appleby, Mary?"-" Marry hey theit's a pity but a cwourse was takken wi' them." But you know, Mary, no person having been buried here of late, of course they cannot carry off any body from our church-yard.” "Whya that maks nea odds-they hey plaisters 'at they clap ower fwolks mouths, sae that they cannot shoot oot, an' off they gang wi' them. Theer was a young lad at Carlisle that they got awld on, and clap't a plaister owr his mouth; and, as he cuddn't shoot oot, he flang his clogg through a shop window when't fwolk cam' ott, and they war fworced t' run away. Theer was another young lad 'at they gat awld on and plaistered in't sayma way: they oppen't swoles of his feet, and war thrang bleeding him to deeth; but somehow or other they war fund oot, and they meade off." Globe and Traveller. ON A LADY WHO SPOKE BOLDLY OF HER CONTEMPT "I wrapt me in my virtue's spotless vest;" Herald. A LONG STORY. AN Italian nobleman, who was grievously afflicted with old age and the gout, entertained a conteur, or fable narrator, whose business it was to talk him to sleep. The conteur was a man to have talked the world to sleep in twenty minutes; but the excessive restlessness of his patron sometimes defied his utmost exertions. One night it fell out that the Marchese was particularly wakeful, and the conteur's invention more than usually slow. He had exhausted his whole stock in hand of adventures, and contrived (such as they were) three new tales; but still the patient slept not, and kept calling upon him to continue. At length, wearied out, the conteur struck at a fresh fable. "There was a poor peasant," said he, "who dwelt upon the Pomeranian mountains, who went forth one day to a neighbouring market to purchase a flock of sheep: he made his bargain, though prices were high, and set out on his return home, driving 200 ewes"-(" It was a large flock," muttered the Marchese)" two hundred ewes, besides lambs, before him; but a storm arose towards night, and the rivulets swelled with the rain; at length the peasant came to the bank of a wide river, which was no longer fordable, from the floods, though it had been so when he passed in the morning. There was no bridge nearer than three leagues, and the roads were getting heavy for the cattle. Could a boat be procured? There was one; but so small that it would only carry one sheep at a time. In this dilemma the traveller had no choice; he put a sheep into the boat, rowed it over with some difficulty, (for the stream was now strong and rapid), landed it on the far shore, and returned for another-." When the conteur had arrived at this point of his story, he stopped, and composed himself to sleep; but the nobleman, who was still awake, cried out, as usual, "Go on, Beneditto; go on. Why do you not proceed with the farmer on his journey ?". "Ah! let me sleep, my Lord, I entreat you," returned the conteur, in despair; "I shall be awake again, I am sure, before he has got his sheep over," Chronicle. - AN ALLITERATIVE SONNET, ON A YOUTH WHO DIED OF EXCESSIVE FRUIT-PIE. CURRANTS have check'd the current of my blood, And berries brought me to be buried here; And plums and plumbers spare not one so spare. Gilt will not long hide guilt; such thin wash'd ware But, in a gentle strain of unstrained verse, Tells that my days are told, and soon I'm toll'd away London Magazine. SKETCHES AT BOW-STREET.-No. VII. THE Scene before us presents a new feature in Corinthianism-a Coachman inside his coach, and a Peer without upon the box, is now a mere thing a-la-mode;-but a peer-less petticoat handling the ribbons in prime style, and cutting a fly's eye out in turning corners to a nicety-and that in the dark too, has something of novelty to recommend it to the notice of the humourist. Medlecock, a Bow-street patrol, was on duty in Gray's-Inn-lane-when he saw the coach, No. 1106, so furiously fly along, that "it was out of sight in almost no time." Nevertheless, swift as it flew (and we think a coach quite as likely to fly as Wordsworth's "little boat" to "dive upwards") he saw Jehu seated between two Dianas of Drury, the one driving along for dear the other, no doubt, engaged in soft dalliance with her swain of the stables, lulled by the melodious rattling of the coach. We, however, marvelled not at "lovers' haste" through Gray's-Inn-lane-a lane celebrated for law and light-fingers, both long since allowed to be inimical to love. But we beg pardon of our readers and Mr. Medlecock, the patrol-the latter of whom was standing in the street, as he saw the coach "fly," and as we have already stated; so that Mr. Medlecock had no chance of meddling with our party at that time. In the course of an hour (it was now between twelve and one o'clock in the morning) back "flies" the same coach at the same rate, but with only the "coachwoman," as Mr. Medlecock said, "alone on the box by herself," flogging away, whip and cut, as hard as she could. He rushed at the horses' heads, seized the reins, and forgetful of Mr. Martin's Act, (and which, by the way, we hope all offenders may be kept in mind of,) he struck the poor animals over their noses with his staff, whilst the lady, nought relaxing, flogged them over their backs, until the jaded creatures (between them both) were beaten to a stand-still. He then ordered the fair Amazonian to dismount, who gracefully catching her loose garments in her hand, leaped upon the ground, expressing her sentiments as to his eyes and limbs with all the freedom of a woman of quality, who is above the prejudices of custom. Mr. Medlecock, however, opened the coach door, when, lo! what should he espy but coachee and his unconscious |