HOGARTH AND HIS MERRY COMPANIONS.

(Continued from p. 168.)

At seven returned back, cleaned ourselves, supped, adjourned to the street-door, drank punch, and stood and sat for our pictures, drawn by Hogarth. (Drawing 3d, five figures on the beach where Upnor castle was drawn.) At night, drew lots for one lying alone, there being but three beds and no night-caps. Tothall won the single bed. At eleven, we rose without candle and dressed, the sheets being damp, and then laid down in our clothes and slept till three, when, on awaking we bemoaned our hard fate, our eyes, lips, and hands, being stung and swelled by the bites of guats. Yet Morpheus swayed us down to deep slumber till six, when we arose, had our shoes cleaned, beards shaved, and wigs floured by a fisherman in boots and shock hair, without coat or waistcoat, (drawing 4th, very humorous in Indian ink, the man shaving Thornhill, Tothall shaving himself, Hogarth drawing, Forrest, in red wash, in his night-cap, at breakfast on spoon meat, and Scott finishing a drawing on the same table.) Milk and toast was our breakfast, paid the reckoning, and set out for Sheerness at eight.

We passed down Stoke-marsh, being directed to keep the road-way. Heavy walking by means of the rain the preceding night: Forrest decoyed his companions over a stile, which led along a beach by a creek-side, supposing it the nearest way, but carried them two miles out of the road. Gaining the right one, we soon entered the Isle of Grain. Passing the church we stopped at the Chequer alehouse, kept by Goody Hubbard; were entertained with saltpork, black bread, butter, and buns, and good beer. There Scott left us, and lost his penknife, value 5s. We here expected to get a boat over to Sheerness, but, the wind blowing too hard, the ferryman refused to carry us, and another sent us the same excuse; but the landlady advised us

183

to make to the marshes next the salt-houses, and hail the ships in ordinary. In this way we procured a little boat, which Thornhill and Tothall brought up to us, after going down to meet it, and with some difficulty took us in, (drawing 5th, viz. the boat, Tothall at the helm, Thornhill lending a hand to Hogarth, Forrest pushing forward Scott. Sheerness: three ships, one firing a gun.)

We set sail for Sheerness; the sea ran high, wind hard at S. W. by S. As we passed, we had the pleasure of seeing and hearing guns fired from the fort and ships. Landed at twelve. Traversed the fort and lines, viewed the fortifications and batteries, and had a delightful prospect of the sea and Sheppy Isle. At one, set out for Queenborough, and walked to it along the beach, over which the spray flew in many places. Thornhill' fell and slightly hurt his legs, yet all merrily trotted on, and gained Queenborough, at two. The town consists of one street, on the east of a creek named after it, and branching out of the Medway. The street clean and well paved, (drawing 6th, viz. houses on the left, clock-house and church, and gateway in front, Forrest and Hogarth with the sailors.) No trade or many human creatures to be seen at first, the church low and ill built, few epitaphs worth note, the best

was

"Henry Knight, master of a ship to

Greenland, and harpooner 24 voyages. "In Greenland I whales, sea-horse, bears did slay,

Though now my body is Intombe in clay."

The town-house or clock-house stands in the middle of the street, supported by four piers, which form four arches, and it being a holiday, was decked with a flag bearing the corporation arms. We quartered at the Red Lion, which people here call the Swans, fronting the river: a civil prating landlady. She having no beds, we applied to a merry woman at a private house, who furnished us with what we wanted. We took another walk up the town, viewed the inside of the church, and had a conference with the grave-digger,

who told us the mayor was a customhouse officer, and the parson a sad dog.

Although they had two marketdays, yet no fresh meat, poultry, nor fish, except lobsters, to be got; with which, and some eggs and bacon, we made our supper. We walked up the hill behind the town to a well of good water, over which, they said, a palace once stood, built by king Edward III. for his queen Philippa.

While here, two sailors came and drew water and drank, telling us how they and four more of the crew of the Rose man-of-war, were obliged the day before to attend a midshipman, General S.'s son, in a yaul up the creek, and had run the boat ashore and they were left by him without sustenance, or money to buy any thing but a few little cockles to eat, he still continuing at Sheerness, while they were starving. We gave them 6d. for which they were thankful, and ran to town to buy them victuals for themselves and their companions, who were sleeping at some distance. Going to view our boat, as it stuck fast in the mud, one of the sailors returned hastily, and kindly presented us some cockles. This act of singular gratitude made us follow the fellows into town, where we gave them another sixpence, and they fetching their companions, they all refreshed themselves, and became thankful and merry.

At seven, we passed through the town, and had a chat with several pretty women we had not observed before. Returned to our quarters, and placed Hogarth in the street. Seated in a wooden chair, he made the drawing No. 6. (i. e. the aforesaid street and sailors.) This gathered a concourse of spectators, men, women, and children, to see him draw. This finished, we again walked up the town, and at the mayor's door saw the aforesaid sailors, and were told, with your worship at every word, how the midshipman had returned, and had been seeing how the boat was laid up in the creek: and coming back had met a sailor and his doxy, whom the midshipman

wanted to be free with. The sailor opposed this, insisting that she was his wife, and thus hindered him from being rude. The officer, resenting this, applied to the mayor for redress. An odd affair, but we could not stay to see the sequel. At nine we returned to our quarters; drank all friends, and emptying several cans of good flip, all sang merrily; but we were abashed by the better singing of the Harwich men in the next room, who had brought lobsters, and were drinking. They sung several sea songs so agreeably, that neither our Sir John nor Pishoken could compare to them. So that, finishing the evening as pleasantly as possible, we went out of the house the back-way to our lodgings about eleven, Our landlady had got a bed for Scott in the garret. On his grumbling and our laughing, it provoked him to refuse lying there, and Tothall, in pure good nature, offered him his own bed at the house we came from, and he would take the garret. Scott agreed and left us. -Tothall going up stairs, found he was to lie in a flock-bed without curtains; down again, he came directly, and ran after Scott, which made us very merry, and we slept upon it till six next morning.

Tuesday morning.-Hogarth called

me up, and told me that the woman demanded payment for the bed, or to have Scott before the mayor: this last we tried all we could to promote, but in vain. So coming to the public house where Scott and Tothall had lain, we found the doors open, a thing common in this town, and yet nobody up. Hogarth roused them, and Scott told us how he had been frighted; for when he left us, and was going to bed, he perceived something stir under the bed-clothes, which, collecting courage, he resolved to feel. On this something cried out, seeming frightened, and scared him out of his wits; but, on inquiry, he found it was only a little boy of the house who had mistaken his bed. This made us merry, and Tothall provided us a breakfast.

(To be continued.)

WANDERING WILLIE'S TALE.

Continued from p. 170.

When midnight came, and the house was quiet as the grave, sure aneugh the silver whistle sounded as sharp and shrill as if Sir Robert was blowing it, and up got the twa auld serving-men, and tottered into the room where the dead man lay.Hutcheon saw aneugh at the first glance; for there were torches in the room, which shewed him the foul fiend, in his ain shape, sitting on the Laird's coffin! Over he cowped as if he had been dead. He could not tell how lang he lay in a trance at the door, but when he gathered himself, he cried on his neighbour, and getting no answer, raised the house, when Dougal was found lying dead within twa steps of the bed where his master's coffin was placed. As for the whistle, it was gaen anes and aye; but mony a time was it heard on the top of the house in the bartizan, and amang the auld chimnies and turrets, where the howlets have their nests. Sir John hushed the matter up, and the funeral passed over without mair bogle-wark.

But when a' was over, and the Laird was beginning to settle his affairs, every tenant was called up for his arrears, and my gudesire for the full sum that stood against him in the rental-book. Weel, away he trots to the Castle, to tell his story, and there he is introduced to Sir John, sitting in his father's chair, in deep mourning, with weepers and hanging cravat, and a small walking rapier by his side, instead of the auld broad-sword that had a hundredweight of steel about it what with blade, chape, and basket-hilt. I have heard their communing so often tauld ower, that I almost think I was there mysell, though I couldna be born at the time. (In fact, Alan, my companion, mimicked, with a good deal of humour, the flattering, conciliating tone of the tenant's address, and the hypocritical melancholy of the Laird's reply. His grandfather, he said, had, while he spoke, his eye fixed on the rental

book, as if it were a mastiff-dog that he was afraid would spring up and bite him.)

"I wuss ye joy, Sir, of the headseat, and the white loaf, and the braid lairdship. Your father was a kind man to friends and followers; muckle grace to you, Sir John, to fill his shoon-his boots, I suld say, for he seldom wore shoon, unless it were muils when he had the gout."

"Ay, Steenie," quoth the Laird, sighing deeply, and putting his napkin to his een, "his was a sudden call, and, he will be missed in the country; no time to set his house in order-weel prepared God-ward, no doubt, which is the root of the matter -but left us behind a tangled hesp to wind, Steenie.-Hem! hem! We maun go to business, Steenie; much to do, and little time to do it in."

Here he opened the fatal volume; I have heard of a thing they call Doomsday-book-I am clear it has been a rental of back-ganging te

nants.

66

Stephen," said Sir John, still in the same soft, sleekit tone of voice"Stephen Stevenson, or Steenson, ye are down here for a year's rent behind the hand-due at last term."

Stephen." Please your honour, Sir John, I paid it to your father."

Sir John. "Ye took a receipt then, doubtless, Stephen; and can produce it?"

Stephen. "Indeed I hadna time, an it like your honour; for nae sooner had I set doun the siller, and just as his honour, Sir Robert, that's gaen, drew it till him to count it, and write out the receipt, he was ta'en with the pains that removed him."

"That was unlucky," said Sir John, after a pause. "But ye maybe paid it in the presence of somebody. I want but a talis qualis evidence, Stephen. I would go ower strictly to work with no poor man."

66

Stephen. Troth, Sir John, there was naebody in the room but Dougal Mac Cullum the butler. But, as your honour kens, he has e'en followed his auld master."

"Very unlucky again Stephen," said Sir John, without altering his

« The man

voice a single note. to whom ye paid the money is dead and the man who witnessed the payment is dead too-and the siller, which would have been to the fore, is neither seen nor heard tell of in the repositories. How am I believe a' this?"

Stephen. "I dinna' ken, your honour; but there is a bit memorandum note of the very coins; for God help me! I had to borrow out of twenty purses; and I am sure that ilk man there set down will take his grit oath for what purpose I borrowed the money."

Sir John. "I have little doubt ye borrowed the money, Steenie. It is the payment that I want to have some proof of."

Stephen." The siller maun be about the house, Sir John. And since your honour never got it, and his honour that was canna have taen it wi' him, maybe some of the family may have seen it."

Sir John. "We will examine the servants, Stephen; that is but reasonable."

and

But lackey and lass, and page groom, all denied stoutly that they had ever seen such a bag of money as my gudesire described. What was waur, he had unluckily not mentioned to any living soul of them his purpose of paying his rent. Ae quean had noticed something under his arm, but she took it for the pipes.

Sir John Redgauntlet ordered the servants out of the room, and then said to my gudesire, "Now, Steenie, ye see you have fair play; and, as Í have little doubt ye ken better where to find the siller than ony other body, I beg, in fair terms, and for your own sake, that you will end this fasherie; for, Stephen, ye maun pay or flit."

"The Lord forgie your opinion," said Stephen, driven almost to his wits' end-"I am an honest man."

"So am I, Stephen," said his honour; "and so are all the folks in the house, I hope. But if there be a knave amongst us,' it must be he that tells the story he cannot prove." He paused, and then added mair sternly, "If I understand your trick,

Sir, you want to take advantage of some malicious reports concerning things in this family, and particularly respecting my father's sudden death, thereby to cheat me out of the money, and perhaps take away my character, by insinuating that I have received the rent I am demanding.Where do you suppose this money to be?-I insist upon knowing."

My gudesire saw every thing look so muckle against him, that he grew nearly desperate-however, he shifted from one foot to another, looked to every corner of the room, and made no answer.

"Speak out, sirrah," said the laird, assuming a look of his father's, a very particular ane, which he had when he was angry-it seemed as if the

wrinkles of his frown made that selfsame fearful shape of a horse's shoe in the middle of his brow;" Speak out, Sir! I will know your thoughts; do you suppose that I have this money?"

"Far be it frae me to say so," said Stephen.

Do you charge any of my people with having taken it?"

"I wad be laith to charge them that may be innocent," said my gudesire; "and if there be ony ane that is guilty, I have nae proof."

"Somewhere the money must be, if there is a word of truth in your story," said Sir John; "I ask where you think it is-and demand a correct answer?"

"In hell, if you will have my thoughts of it," said my gudesire, driven to extremity," in hell! with your father and his silver whistle."

Down the stairs he ran, (for the parlour was nae place for him after such a word,) and he heard the Laird swearing blood and wounds behind him, as fast as ever did Sir Robert, and roaring for the baillie and the baron-officer.

(To be continued.)

Great errors are often connected with elevated sentiments; but in order to understand this, we must ourselves possess greatness of soul..