The only one of the family that could not be made fashionable was the retired butcher himself. Honest Lamb, in spite of the meekness of his name, was a rough, hearty old fellow, with the voice of a lion, a head 5 of black hair like a shoe-brush, and a broad face mottled like his own beef. It was in vain that the daughters always spoke of him as "the old gentleman," addressed him as 66 papa," in tones of infinite softness, and endeavored to coax him into a dressing-gown and slippers and to other gentlemanly habits. Do what they might, there was no keeping down the butcher. His sturdy nature would break through all their glozings. He had a hearty, vulgar good-humor that was irrepressible. His very jokes made his sensitive daughters shudder; and he per15 sisted in wearing his blue cotton coat of a morning, dining at two o'clock, and having a "bit of sausage with his tea." 66 He was doomed, however, to share the unpopularity of his family. He found his old comrades gradually 20 growing cold and civil to him, no longer laughing at his jokes, and now and then throwing out a fling at some people," and a hint about "quality binding." This both nettled and perplexed the honest butcher; and his wife and daughters, with the consummate policy of the 25 shrewder sex, taking advantage of the circumstance, at length prevailed upon him to give up his afternoon's pipe and tankard at Wagstaff's, to sit after dinner by himself and take his pint of porta liquor he detested, and to nod in his chair in solitary and dismal gentility. 30 The Miss Lambs might now be seen flaunting along the streets in French bonnets, with unknown beaux, and talking and laughing so loud that it distressed the nerves. of every good lady within hearing. They even went so far as to attempt patronage, and actually induced a French dancing-master to set up in the neighborhood; but the worthy folks of Little Britain took fire at it, and did so persecute the poor Gaul that he was fain to pack up fiddle and dancing-pumps, and decamp with such precipitation that he absolutely forgot to pay for his 5 lodgings. I had flattered myself, at first, with the idea that all this fiery indignation on the part of the community was merely the overflowing of their zeal for good old English manners, and their horror of innovation; and I ap- 10 plauded the silent contempt they were so vociferous in expressing for upstart pride, French fashions, and the Miss Lambs. But I grieve to say that I soon perceived the infection had taken hold, and that my neighbors, after condemning, were beginning to follow their example. 15 I overheard my landlady importuning her husband to let their daughters have one quarter at French and music, and that they might take a few lessons in quadrille. I even saw, in the course of a few Sundays, no less than five French bonnets precisely like those of the Miss 20 Lambs parading about Little Britain. I still had my hopes that all this folly would gradually die away; that the Lambs might move out of the neighborhood, might die, or might run away with attorneys' apprentices; and that quiet and simplicity might be 25 again restored to the community. But unluckily a rival power arose. An opulent oilman died, and left a widow with a large jointure and a family of buxom daughters. The young ladies had long been repining in secret at the parsimony of a prudent father, which kept down all their 30 elegant aspirings. Their ambition, being now no longer restrained, broke out into a blaze, and they openly took the field against the family of the butcher. It is true that the Lambs, having had the first start, had naturally an advantage of them in the fashionable career. They could speak a little bad French, play the piano, dance quadrilles, and had formed high acquaintances; but the Trotters were not to be distanced. When the Lambs 5 appeared with two feathers in their hats, the Miss Trotters mounted four, and of twice as fine colors. If the Lambs gave a dance, the Trotters were sure not to be behindhand; and though they might not boast of as good company, yet they had double the number and 10 were twice as merry. The whole community has at length divided itself into fashionable factions, under the banners of these two families. The old games of Pope-Joan and Tom-cometickle-me are entirely discarded, there is no such thing 15 as getting up an honest country dance, and on my attempting to kiss a young lady under the mistletoe last. Christmas, I was indignantly repulsed, -the Miss Lambs having pronounced it "shocking vulgar." Bitter rivalry has also broken out as to the most fashionable part of 20 Little Britain, the Lambs standing up for the dignity of Cross-Keys Square, and the Trotters for the vicinity of St. Bartholomew's. Thus is this little territory torn by factions and internal dissensions, like the great empire whose name it 25 bears; and what will be the result would puzzle the apothecary himself, with all his talent at prognostics, to determine, though I apprehend that it will terminate in the total downfall of genuine John Bullism. The immediate effects are extremely unpleasant to me. 30 Being a single man, and, as I observed before, rather an idle good-for-nothing personage, I have been considered the only gentleman by profession in the place. I stand therefore in high favor with both parties, and have to hear all their cabinet councils and mutual backbitings. As I am too civil not to agree with the ladies on all occasions, I have committed myself most horribly with both parties by abusing their opponents. I might manage to reconcile this to my conscience, which is a truly accommodating one, but I cannot to my apprehension; 5 if the Lambs and Trotters ever come to a reconciliation and compare notes, I am ruined! I have determined, therefore, to beat a retreat in time, and am actually looking out for some other nest in this great city where old English manners are still kept up, 10 where French is neither eaten, drunk, danced, nor spoken, and where there are no fashionable families of retired tradesmen. This found, I will, like a veteran rat, hasten away before I have an old house about my ears; bid a long, though a sorrowful adieu to my present abode, 15 and leave the rival factions of the Lambs and the Trotters to divide the distracted empire of LITTLe Britain. 5 STRATFORD-ON-AVON Thou soft-flowing Avon, by thy silver stream Of things more than mortal sweet Shakespeare would dream; GARRICK. To a homeless man, who has no spot on this wide world which he can truly call his own, there is a momentary feeling of something like independence and territorial consequence, when, after a weary day's travel, he kicks off his boots, thrusts his feet into slippers, and stretches himself before an inn fire. Let the world without go as it may, let kingdoms rise or fall, so long as he has the wherewithal to pay his bill, he is for the time being the very monarch of all he surveys. The arm10 chair is his throne, the poker his sceptre, and the little parlor, some twelve feet square, his undisputed empire. It is a morsel of certainty snatched from the midst of the uncertainties of life, it is a sunny moment gleaming out kindly on a cloudy day; and he who has advanced some 15 way on the pilgrimage of existence knows the importance of husbanding even morsels and moments of enjoyment. "Shall I not take mine ease in mine inn?" thought I, as I gave the fire a stir, lolled back in my elbow-chair, and cast a complacent look about the little 20 parlor of the Red Horse at Stratford-on-Avon. The words of sweet Shakespeare were just passing through my mind as the clock struck midnight from the tower of the church in which he lies buried. was a gentle tap at the door, and a pretty chambermaid, There |