Char. When you tell himKate. That I wish to have nothing to say to him.

Enter Mrs HARVEY.

Mrs H. Well, Kate, are you all prepared? Cousin William will be here directly-sweet boy! ah, I recollect his rosy cheeks! and he's so fond of sugar-candy! He'll suck a stick of it in no time, and cry for half an hour for more.

Char. Indeed!

Mrs H. Oh dear, yes!—And such a terrible boy for climbing. He never could be taught to come up stairs like other people, but always on the outside, holding on by the-whatdo-you-call-the-things?—I've such a memory!-ending in-sters. Char. Banisters.

Mrs H. Ay, banisters, thank you, Mr Lloyd, you're always so ready ob, he'll frighten us all till we get used to him! Pretty dear, how he will torment the cats!

Kate. The cats! mamma.

Mrs H. Oh yes!-he'll tie them to gether by the tail, and put walnut shells upon their feet. You must take great care, my dear, he doesn't throw you down.

Char. Throw Miss Harvey down? I should like

Mrs H. On! bless ye, he's such a fellow!-I caught bim once swinging her round and round at the very top of the stone staircase, and gave him a good cut over the head with one of the brooms that was providentially at the top of the landing, before he would let her go. Another time, he tried to push her into the nursery fire. You must be on your guard, Kate,

Kate. But you forget, mamma, that he was then only eight years old, and now he is three-and-twenty.

Mrs H. So much the worse! How strong he must be now! He was quite a giant then! You've no idea, Mr Lloyd, of the pleasure of having such a son in law. Have you now?

Char. Why, if you ask my real sentiments on the occasion, I confess I have not.

Mrs H. You were never married! you were never left a widow with an only daughter-were you now?

Char. No!

Mrs H. Ab! that accounts for itbut, dear me, I'm so forgetful; such a memory! Let his bed be got ready,

Kate; get out fresh sheets, and the what do-you-call-it?-the big white thing on the top-ending in-pin? Kate. Counterpane.

Mrs H. Thankye; yes-the counterpane-and-oh, but there he is!— I hear his knock.

Kate. I will get ready, mamma. [Exit. Mrs H. Now, Mr Lloyd, this is the happiest moment of my life. It is so kind in my rich brother in Birmingham to send his son to marry my daughter. To be sure, he has never done me any other service than that; but who knows? He meant to do this all the time perhaps, and thought it useless to embarrass me with help when my difficulties were greatest.

Char. And this young gentleman is really going to marry Kate?

The

Mrs H. Not a doubt of it. girl can't be silly enough to refuse him. He's a highly educated, accomplished young gentleman; and for all he is his father's son, he travels in woollens himself.

Char. He must find it rather uncomfortable this hot weather.

Mrs H. You misunderstand me; his father is in the woollen trade, and this young gentleman travels to show samples.

Char. Oh-a bagman!

Mrs H. And drives, I understand, a most elegant gig.

Chur. And this is the person you design for Kate Harvey !—(turns away and takes a book.)

Enter SMOUT.

Smout. Where's old Viviparous ? How do, aunt? shouldn't have known you from Adam-Eve I should say-for the petticoats make a slight distinction. And how goes it, eh?

Mrs H. Oh, we are so glad to see you-your father-has he sent any letter?-How is he? And your sisters?

Smout. Old Cretaceous is in excellent preservation; the young Mammiferæ also; but I wish to drop a remark -never ask me about other people's healths-when they die, you'll see it in the papers-till then, conclude them happy. So, you're aunt Sarah-eh?

Mrs H. Indeed, I am; but who are all the people you have been speaking about?

Smout. Old Cretaceous and the Mammiferæ? why, the governor and the gals-they're words in Greek or

Latin, confound me if I know which, meaning father and sisters. Grey Badger found I made no progress in the dead languages, so he took me double quick home from school, and swore he would have me turn scientific; he made me join the Commercial Gentlemen's Naytral History Society of our town, and I'm the vice president this year. That accounts for my long words. But, tell me, is cousin Kate at home?

Mrs H. Oh yes! you'll see her immediately; she's flurried, of course; and, I dare say, is striving to look her best. She's changing her gown perhaps.

Smout. She'd better draw it mild in the article of silk and satins-for I take it you're not in a tip-top way of business here; eh, Quadruminous? -I only drop the remark,

Mrs H. You're mistaken, nevy, I assure you. No house has finer company-all the best of the land! Every one of them connected with the-the what-do-you-call-it ?-great people ending in crassy?

Smout. Aristocracy, old Bivalve! glad to hear it for the look of the thing; but, do you touch the ready? The tip-tops look uncommon well every where but at the top of a bill. Mrs H. All rolling in money. Smout. Let's hear-name! name! Mrs H. First, there's my friend Mr. Chas. Lloyd; let me introduce youmy nevy, Mr Lloyd. Mr Lloyd is a barrister, rising very fast; and if his uncle-who is a lord, or a knight, or something of that kind—would come forward, he is ready to contest the county of what do they call it?-a long word-ending in sex?

Smout. Middlesex. Happy to stick my pins under the same mahogany. Mr Lloyd-Do you smoke?

Char. Sometimes.

Smout. I've a chest of smuggledcheap as dirt; let you have a couple of pounds a bargain-we can smoke them together, you know-eh, Carnivorous?

Char. You are obliging, sir.

Smout. Not the least-always an eye to business-sharp's the word fifty shillings a pound. Is it a bargain?

Char. No, sir.

Smout. You'll repent_ it- rather ursine than otherwise. Proceed, Viviparous !

Mrs H. Then there's Dr Macfee, a Scotch physician in the highest reputation; and so fond of his profession! He bleeds poor people for nothing, whether they need it or not; and dosed his own footboy, till the lad grew so accustomed to physic that it really made him fat-a great comfort, as it was the principal food he had, poor fellow! before he came here.

Smout. I hate doctors-food farina. ceous-they live upon pulse-d'ye take?.

Mrs H. Next floor, downwards, we have Mr Clarendon Steady and Mr Algernon Sidney Twist.

Smout. Good! I like that fellow. His name's in his favour.

Mrs H. They are great friends; but, somehow or other, they are always quarrelling about-what is the name of them?-those things that make people snarl at each other like dogsending in ticks.

Smout. Ticks! the very things, as you say, to put dogs out of temper. But do you mean politics, Cartilaginous ?-politics?

Mrs H. Politics-yes- I mean politics. I've such a memory! one is what they call a Conversative; though, for my part, I think Mr Steady the silentest man in the house. The other's a Liberal; though, would you believe it, nevy, he never gives the maids a single farthing?

Smout. They're ugly, perhaps. Mrs. H. But they're both great scholars; and, I dare say, they're both perfectly right.

Smout. A nice set you seem to have, auntie. And this is all you got by marrying a gentleman-flying in the face of all your own relations, and looking down on 'em because you were a major's lady?

Mrs. H. I look down on them! oh, William, how can you say such a thing? No-they flung me off, leaving me to fight and struggle through many, many years, without holding out a hand to me, or writing except to upbraid me. I look down on them!

Smout. Gammon! old Cassowary ! don't come the sentimental over me. We don't stand such larks in the travellers' room. I wish to drop a remark. Grey Badger has sent me down here with express orders to marry your daughter; so, show her up, let's have no more talk about