trembling and listening for a full hour, when the dancing-master opened the door, and cried in his softest and most amiable tones-" Pattison, my old boy, it's all over."

"Dead!" groaned Peppercorn.

"And buried," answered Muzzleby, in the same note.

Somebody in mistake for me," thought Peppercorn; "perhaps, Sheepskin;" and he smiled and clasped his hands under the blankets. "What a blessing is upon me!"

For the whole day Peppercorn remained swathed in his blankets, not daring to venture forth. At all times abstemious as a hermit, he less than ever felt the want of food, so was he worn by the horror of the past and the dread of the present. The evening approached, and the landlord resigned himself to his fate for another night, hoping, and almost praying, for release on the morrow. It was near midnight when Peppercorn awoke from a feverish sleep,-from dreams of terror: it was some moments ere he could shake off the influence of the vision, so strongly did it possess him. At length he became assured of his waking being, and of the real dangers that thronged about him. He began to try his memory for some prayer learned in his boyhood, and for a brief moment his heaps of gold seemed to the miser no more than ashes, when a speck of light, as from a star, beamed in the darkness. He held his breath, and grasped the blankets, the veins of his bony hands swelling like earth-worms. The light increased, and his eyes grew big with horror, and his heart seemed to stop its beating, and his voice died in his throat, as he gazed upon a mortal face-the face of his wronged sister! The spectre, with its fixed eyes, approached the bed, the lips of the old man moved, but his tongue was jellied in his mouth; as the shade came nearer, the miser drew his frozen legs upwards, and, clutching the blanket, he tore it in his hand as he rose, -such strength did terror give his years, as it had been woven of the finest thread. Still the spectre came nearer, when the terrified wretch, his back fairly creeping up the wall, stood upon his feet to confront it. He stood in the bed, his face white and wet as reeking chalk, and his mouth open as with the death-gasp. In a moment, all was dark; and the miser, with a thrilling shriek, fell huddled in a heap upon the bed!

CHAPTER VIII.

To the day of his death-which did not happen for some years after this awful vision-Isaac Peppercorn persisted in the belief that his injureds ister had appeared to chide him for his past iniquities, and to warn him from future evil. Be this as it may, the delusion worked its good effect; for Isaac asked forgiveness of his nephew, supplied him with plentiful means, and at last bequeathed him the whole of his fortune. To be sure, Peppercorn owed a deep debt of gratitude to young Hyacinth, for, without his interference, the landlord had met with a most scurvy reception from his vagabond tenants, though we do not believe with the exact fate advised by Muzzleby, that eccentric personage not being in his nature quite so sanguinary as he delighted to declare himself. For the ghost, we cannot conscientiously acquit Flittermouse of all suspicion; for, it will be remembered, that he had his magic lantern in full operation: and for the portrait of the mother of Hyacinth, the

showman, with a good taste for art, had had it copied as one of the prime beauties of his exhibition, though certainly not at the festive time, when he attended the family of Mr. Sheepskin. That learned gentleman did not without considerable difficulty persuade Mr. Peppercorn that his inattentive stewardship of the Hyacinth estate proceeded from the best of motives; though there were ill-natured people who protested that the attorney suffered them to go to ruin that they might drop a bargain into his own hands. Indeed, very often when Peppercorn touched upon the subject, though Sheepskin used all his eloquence to prove the purity of his motives, the landlord would consent to be only half convinced, observing in conclusion

"Well, it may be as you say, Sheepskin;-I say, it may be that no rents were ever paid, and yet I don't know, I'm not quite easy in my mind about that Guilders, the Dutchman."

THE TWO DOGS;

OR, THE PET AND THE FAG.

ONE beautiful morning in July, when the thirsty sun was drinking up the refreshing dews that impearled the meadows, a pretty spaniel, whose long ears and tail, and sleek coat, indicated the care and attention paid to his "personal appearance," ran frisking from the door of a handsome mansion to a green knoll shadowed by an ancient elm, and there seated himself as if in contemplation of the pleasant prospect which sur

rounded him.

Presently, a sheep-dog came slowly trotting towards him, when the following colloquy ensued, which, for the delectation of our fair readers, we shall do into English from the original dog-latin.

"Good morning, Mr. Brush; hope you are well ?" said the sheep-dog. "Only so-so, my friend, I thank you," replied the elegant Brush. "The fact is, I made rather too free with partridge last night, which, entre nous, was rather underdone, and the gravy made rather too spicy. I thought the morning air would abate the feverish symptoms."

"What a lucky dog you are, Mr. Brush, in being so well provided." "Don't envy me, Bluff, for, sooth to say, I have a villanous appetite, and am literally overpowered with ennui."

"What's that?" inquired Bluff, with rustic simplicity.

"Why-a-a sort of a kind of fatigue arising from idleness; something like a continual desire to stretch without room for one's paws!" Umph!" said Bluff. Well, I can tell you, that is a sort of a kind of fatigue that I never feel. I have seldom a moment to call my own."

I suppose so," said Brush, smiling; "for, as our parson observes, no one knows the labour a due attention to his flock demands. For I be part-but, I say, Bluff, what's the matter with your leg?"

"A bruise only," replied Bluff. "Johnny, the old ram, was restive, and I collared him; and I had no sooner turned my back, than he 'pitched into me.

"Egad, no! Why, such a blow would have utterly annihilated me,”

said the delicate Brush. "You should have stuck your teeth into his 'parchment,' and left him with a sort of-this indenture witnesseth, that old Johnny is certainly a battering ram!"

This sally was followed by Brush showing a beautiful set of white teeth, and by Bluff's exhibiting his fangs.

"Really," continued the pet, "I should, upon such a brutal assault (supposing I survived the shock) have gone to my mistress with a long tale, and had the culprit summarily punished. Nothing short of muttonizing the rascal would have satisfied me.'

Oh, that is nothing to the rubs I meet with," replied Bluff, coolly; "and the shepherd would laugh outright at my running to him with a long tale."

"True, true," said Brush, smiling at his own conceit; "a sheep-dog running with a long tail to his master would not be recognized, for they always most impertinently cut them short! Excuse me, I would not for the world be rude."

"You're a wag," said Bluff, good-naturedly.

"May every pleasant wag have a tail, and every tail a pleasant wag!" exclaimed Brush. "Pardonnez moi, but, en vérité, your excellent company puts me in spirits, for I am naturally a dull dog!" and he sighed.

"Your eyes seem heavy," said Bluff.

"I had a wretched night I assure you," continued Brush; " and this morning I have a swimming in my head."

"Take a bath then."

"Thankee, Bluff, I owe you one," retorted the pet: "but bless your simplicity, it is more than my ears are worth. Do you know the consequences of a bathe in the brook?"

"No."

"Why, the consequences would be," replied Brush, "I should leave water-creases on every damask-covered chair I sat upon. Besides, I have a party of ladies to meet at breakfast in my mistress's dressingroom, who would be horrified at my committing such a solecism in good breeding, as to appear before them en deshabille. Why, my lady'smaid will probably scold me for venturing to wet my feet in this morning's ramble. You, my dear Bluff, have no idea of the delicacy and tact required in my situation."

"Nor do I envy you," said Bluff.

Perhaps not," replied Brush; "but habit is second nature, and I could no more endure your fatigue than you could my idleness. At the same time, I should like to introduce you to one of our evenings.' I assure you there is many a puppy appears there with not half your honesty and brains; but your coat unfortunately is none of the smartest, and the coat, and not the wearer, is considered in these cases. But I hear the bell. Adieu; au revoir !" and so saying, away he frisked, leaving Bluff to follow his laborious but healthy avocations.

MODERN TOWN HOUSES.

BY CAPTAIN MARRYAT, C.B.

I HAVE often thought, when you consider the difference of comfort between houses built from sixty to a hundred years back, in comparison with the modern edifices, that the cry of the magician in " Aladdin," had he called out new houses," instead of "new lamps," for old ones, would not have appeared so very absurd. It was my good fortune, Mr. Editor, to occupy an old house for the major part of my life, built, I believe, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. My father lived in it before I was in existence: I was born in it, and it was bequeathed to me. It has since been my misfortune to have lived three years in one of the modern built houses; and although I have had my share of the ills to which we all are heir, I must date my real unhappiness from the first month after I took possession. With your permission, I will enter into my history, as it may prove a warning to others, who will not remember the old proverb of "Let well alone."

I am a married man, with six children; my three eldest are daughters, and have now quitted a school, near Portman-square, to which my wife insisted upon my sending them, as it was renowned for finishing young ladies. Until their return to domiciliate themselves under my roof, I never heard a complaint of my house, which was situated at Brompton. It was large, airy, and comfortable, with excellent shrubberies, and a few acres of land; and I possessed every comfort and even luxury which could be rationally required, my wife and daughters having their carriage, and in every respect my establishment being that of a gentleman.

I had not, however, taken my daughters from school more than two months, before I found that we were "living out of the world," although not a mile and a half from Hyde Park Corner; and, to my surprise, my wife joined in the cry; it was always from morn to night, "We might do this but, we cannot do this because, we are here quite out of the world." It was too far to dine out in town; too far for people to come and dine with us; too far to go to the play, or the opera; too far to drive in the park; too far even to walk in Kensington Gardens. I remonstrated, that we had managed to dine out, to receive visiters, and to enjoy all other amusements very well for a considerable number of years, and that it did not appear to me that Brompton had walked away from London, on the contrary, that London was making rapid advances towards Brompton; but it would not do,-all day the phrase rang in my ears, out of the world," until I almost began to wish that I was out too. But it is no use having the best of an argument when opposed to women. I had my choice, either to give up my house, and take another in London, or to give up my peace. With an unwilling sigh, I at last consented to leave a place dear to me, from long association, and many reminiscences; and it was arranged that Brompton Hall was to be let, or sold, and that we were to look out immediately for a house in some of the squares in the metropolis. If my wife and daughters found that the distance from London was too far for other purposes, at all events, it was not too far for house-hunting. They were

at it incessantly week after week; and, at last, they fixed upon one in the neighbourhood of Belgrave-square, which, as they repeated, possessed all the cheerfulness and fresh air of the country, with all the advantages of a town residence. The next day I was to be dragged to see it, and give my opinion; at the same time, from the commendations bestowed upon it, previous to my going, I felt assured that I was expected to give their opinion, and not my own.

The next day, accordingly, we repaired there, setting off immediately after breakfast, to meet the surveyor and builder, who was to be on the spot. The house in question was one of a row just building, or built, whitened outside, in imitation of stone. It was No. 2. No. 1 was finished; but the windows still stained with the drippings of the whitewash and colouring. No. 2, the one in question, was complete; and as the builder asserted, ready for immediate occupation. No. 3 was not so far advanced. As for the others, they were at present nothing but carcases, without even the front steps built to them; and you entered them by a drawbridge of planks.

The builder stood at the front door, and bowed most respectfully: "Why," observed I, looking at the piles of mortar, lime, and bricks, standing about in all directions, "we shall be smothered with dust and lime for the next two years."

"Don't be alarmed, Sir," replied the builder; "every house in the row will be finished before the winter. We really cannot attend to the applications for them."

We entered the house.

"Is not the entrance handsome?" observed my wife; so neat and clean."

To this I had not a reply to make; it certainly did look neat and clean. We went into the dining-room. "What a nice room," exclaimed my eldest daughter. "How many can we dine in this room?"

"Um," replied I; "about twelve, I suppose, comfortably."

"Dear me," observed the builder, " you have no notion of the size of the house; rooms are so deceiving, unfurnished. You may sit down twenty with ease; I'll appeal to the lady. Don't you think so, Ma'am?” "Yes, I do," replied my wife.

After that, we went over the drawing-rooms, bed-rooms, and attics. Every bed-room was apportioned by my wife and daughters; and the others were allotted to the servants; and that in the presence of the builder, who took good note of all that passed.

The kitchen was admired; so were the pantry, scullery, coal-hole, dust-hole, &c.; all so nice and clean; so compact; and as the builder observed, not a nail to drive anywhere.

"Well, my dear, what do you think now; isn't it a charming house?" said my wife, as we re-ascended into the dining-parlour.

"It's a very nice house, my dear; but still it requires a little consideration," replied I.

"Consideration, my dear,” replied my wife; "what, now that you have gone over it ?"

"I am afraid that I cannot give you very long, Sir, "observed the builder; there are two other parties after the house, and I am to give them an answer by two o'clock."

"Mr. Smithers told me the same yesterday," whispered my wife.