Not content with these multifarious undertakings, the many-sided Allin had a Museum, and in his own Allinese manner, he thus enumerates some of the wonders exhibited :

"Multum in Parvo! much comprised in little,
Curious, tho' small, 'twill please you to a tittle,
Birds of all kinds, and beasts of rare creation,
Shells, medals, foreign coins from every nation,
India, America, Greenland, Iceland too,
And something from the mines of rich Peru.
The Bird of Paradise, the Ruff, the Gull,
The Flying Rat, the Mouse, the Horned Owl.
From Botany Bay, of Birds a good collection,
Worthy the connoisseur's minute inspection.
A Panorama, too, I can display,

With different prospects every other day,
And then my little painter won't refuse,

To sketch you any little thing you choose."

At this period in our local history the side of New Street opposite to that given in our illustration, presented even more extraordinary differences when compared with its present aspect. There was the quaintlooking old Free Grammar School, with its fenced quadrangle, its wonderful urns, its strange tower, and rather groteseque statue of the Royal Founder, all of which have happily given place to the present noble building. From the School to the top of Pinfold Street, there were not more than half-a-dozen houses. Nearly the whole of this space was filled with gardens, and Greenwood's Cherry Orchard. In 1783-4, the following advertisement appeared :

"To be LET three very convenient and desirable Inclosures, well supplied with water, and generally known by the name of Farmer Smith's Lands, whereon are two Tenements, inhabited, and a third erecting and nearly completed, situate by the Foot Way from Pinfold Street to the Five Ways, at a very Little Distance from the Navigation Wharf, and one Part of which Land is contiguous to the Jews' Burial Ground.

In 1822 great changes were made in New Street. Aris's Gazette of November 18, of that year says:-"We have pleasure in noticing the projected improvements already commenced in New-street, in this town. We understand it is intended, after levelling as nearly as practicable the whole of the street from one end to the other, to flag both foot paths, and to light the street by lamps, raised upon iron columns, at the edge of the causeway. We learn also, with satisfaction, that these desirable alterations will, as speedily as possible, be followed by similar improvements in the High-street and other principal streets of the town.”

From that time to the present, improvements have been rapidly made. So great have been these changes, that the unknown artist who drew the picture, of which our illustrations are exact copies, and the folks who dwelt in the street at the time it was taken, could they revisit the "glimpses of the moon," would be like wanderers in a strange land, without a guide or compass.

J. A. L.

DAVID GARRICK.

(FROM A 'SOTHERN' ASPECT.)

Some few of my readers, I venture to say,
Object, for good reasons, to witness a Play,
Or think-to speak mildly-'tis time thrown away.
Some deem it their duty as pater or mater,

To shun what the common folks call a the-ay-ter;

Of course I dont blame 'em if such is their

natur'

They may chance to be wrong, or perchance they are right, Discussion on this point I do not invite,

And to question their motives I'm far too polite.

In fact for their pleasure,

In moments of leisure,
When cozy and snug,
With their feet on the rug,
Or their toes on the fender,
(If not over tender,)

They sit by the fire on a cold winter's night,

When the curtains are drawn, and the shutters made tight,
And the gas or the lamp sheds a cheerful light ;—
This Thespian love tale I've ventured to write.

But perhaps t'were as well at the outset to state,
There's naught in the story I wish to relate
To render my readers the least bit irate,
Or on the most delicate feelings to grate.
Though some may consider the stage a locality
Somewhat deficient in truth and reality,

This drama, they'll find, is replete with morality.
To come to my ditty,

In London's famed city,

There once lived a merchant as rich as a Jew,
He had a fair daughter,

Perfection all thought her,

Save one little failing-the maid was a blue.

When other young ladies were skipping or dancing,
Flirting, coquetting, or wickedly glancing,

Miss Ada found Shakespeare far more entrancing.
And to sit in a corner from morning to night,

With a book on her knees, was her greatest delight,
And she read till her eyes were a 'regular fright.'
She laughed at quaint Dromio;

Pitied poor Romeo ;

Wept with Ophelia ;

Sighed with Cordelia ;

Cried like a child o'er the woes of Othello;
Called crafty Iago 'a naughty old fellow.'
This charming young lady, I scarcely need say,
(As all her sex do) liked to have her own way,
And her doting old father could never say nay,
So the end of it was that she went to the Play
Too often by far, for the Prims" of that day,
Described her as being uncommonly gay.'
But the truth must be told-at the date of this story,
The greatest of actors was then in his glory,
Creating what some people call a "furory:

6

Alas! for poor Ada,

Her feelings betrayed her

So young and so artless she ne'er thought of harm in it.

And if she had fancied a merchant or factor,
Or what is still better a wealthy contractor,
She would not have met with a single detractor.
But falling in love with a common play-actor,
Was such a misfortune, degrading and low too,
It gave her papa such a terrible blow too,

To think that his child whom he'd never said 'No' to
Should basely deceive him,

And thus try to grieve him.

He was doubly enraged,
For he thought her engaged
To a fast going cit,

With more money than wit,

Whom of all her grand suitors-(she'd over a dozen) She hated the most-young Chivey her cousin.

I feel it is due to Miss Ada to say,

Though her poor little heart had been stolen away,
That she'd never seen Garrick except at the play,

And always behaved in an orthodox way.

Whilst Davy himself with commendable pride,
Well knowing how actors were scorned and decried,
And kept at a distance unpleasantly wide,

Never asked for her name,

Nor sought whence she came,

But kept the strict rules of decorum in view;
As if he would prove,

By a true, honest, love,

That an actor could yet be a gentleman too.

T'were vain to dilate on the sorrows of Ada,

How all her sweet bosom-friends joined to upbraid her, How often young Chivey her cousin waylaid her;

Till gloomy and sad, and with no one to aid her,
She fretted and pined,-grew thinner and thinner,
Scarce swallowed a crumb for her breakfast or dinner,
Which made her Pa call her a wicked young sinner.
It may be he swore,

As he'd oft done before,

Forzounds' and 'odzooks' were the words then in fashion : Be that as it may,

He sent a short note to the green-room old Drury,'
Inviting D. G.

For the next day at three,

As he'd something important and private to say,
That would not admit of a moment's delay.

He came, in reply to old Ingot's appeal,
As near to the time as was right and genteel,
Being anxious to know what he had to reveal.
He was dressed in full fig,
From his shoes to his wig;
And what with his velvet, his ruffles, and lace,
His manners so easy, his movements all grace,
And the "pale cast of thought on his classical face,

The great millionaire

Could do nothing but stare,

For the presence of Garrick quite made his heart leap,
And struck him (excuse the slang) all of a heap.'

I will not pretend to describe or relate

Each scene that occurred at this strange tête â tête,

So deeply affecting my heroine's fate.

Enough that the father soon made a clean breast of it,
Told how his child was in love-and the rest of it,
And asked Mr. G.

If he'd kindly agree

To go for a time,

To some distant clime,

To China, Japan, or to Botany Bay,

To Poland or Prussia

Or even to Russia,

No matter how far-if well out of the way.

"And to come to the point in the matter of wages,
I know not" said he, "what the pay on the stage is,
But that need not cause you the least bit of trouble,
Whatever you earn, sir, I'll give you-say-double."
Then smiled he serenely as much as to say,
"I think I have done the thing handsome to-day."

Now of course you'd expect that a moment—not more,
Would elapse ere the speaker lay flat on the floor,
Well covered with what is politely called gore.

Or at least that he'd find, with some pain and surprise,
An impromptu kaleidoscope flash from his eyes.
Or else that his guest,
Would prefer a request,

For the name of a 'friend' who'd be willing to fix
On a charming retreat,

Where they'd quietly meet,

For coffee and pistols next morning at six.

But Davy though vexed was too grand and polite,
To turn up his sleeves and go in for a fight,
So he let off his anger by laughing outright.
"Now listen' said he, to the old millionaire,
"I care not for wealth, I've enough and to spare,
And I'm not at all anxious to try change of air.
Your language is rude, sir, and not comme il faut,
I ought to resent it, as doubtless you know;
But pity, compassion, respect for your age,
Have softened my feelings, and conquered my rage,
Nay more, I am willing to give you my aid,
In curing the whims of this stage-stricken maid.
A boarding-school miss, I presume, in her teens,
Whose fancy is dazzled by love-making scenes,
So simple and artless she fondly supposes,
The life of an actor all couleur de rose is,
Forgetting the while that he's playing a part,
Mistaking for nature the trappings of art.

I like not the task-but I'll e'en disenchant her,
And bring the fair maid to her senses instanter.
You must follow my plan,

Like a sensible man,

And never more ask me to go to Japan."

Then he fully explained what he wished him to do,
And bowing politely-shook hands and withdrew.

CANTO 2.

A week had elapsed, or it may have been more,
When loud rat-a-tats at the old merchant's door-
(He lived in a square at the last house but four,
I'm rather precise as you've noticed before,)

Caused the neighbours to wonder whence came the uproar.
And the rude little boys in the street give a shout,

(As they do even now at a ball or a rout)

As the coaches draw up and the ladies get out.
And the coachmen get riled,

And the footmen are wild,

For they can't abear' chaff,
And allusions to 'calf,'

And are far too majestic to join in the laugh.
And all this great fuss,

Was accounted for thus,

In the words of a neighbour,-one Major Mc.Carty-
"I'm blest if old Ginger ain't giving a party."

The guests are assembled and chatting together,
Discussing the markets, the stocks, and the weather,
Miss Jones's new dress, and Miss Robinson's feather.
When just as Miss Brown is arranging her train,

The flunkey exclaims as he enters again,

"The great Mr. Garrick from Drury Lane,"

Then a volley of "Oh!s"-"Oh my!s" and "Oh dear!s" Is heard round the room as the player appears,

Which, of course, are intended to reach Davy's ears.