in being able to secure a front-seat in the stage-box for the occasion, paying Mr. Munchausen, the lessee, a guinea therefor. And the price was surely moderate, when it is considered what an excellent son Mr. Otway Marlowe was, and, on that account, how likely to be unparalleled in wringing his mother's heart and avenging his father's murder as the Prince of Denmark. Alas! he was never destined to reach those grand points in the play: he was damned by Mr. Noddy in the very second scene with the ghost. At that interesting moment all eyes were turned towards the stage, and, of course, the stage-box, where sat our hero in his conspicuous position. By a deplorable coincidence, the Ghost stood directly between him and Hamlet, who apostrophizing the solid shadow of his hapless papa, in the agony of his grief, and directing his looks alike to Ghost and Noddy, exclaimed, "Why, ay, ah, ah—

'If thou canst nod, speak too!".

The ludicrous effect was instantaneous, and roars of laughter shook the theatre. It was impossible to restore a tragic sympathy, and poor Mr. Otway Marlowe was the victim of a few unintentional nods and winks. The fuss, complaints, and row of next morning may be conceived by all who are acquainted with theatrical matters. Mr. Noddy was glad to compromise the affair by the payment of one thousand pounds, of which the lessee pocketed eight hundred for the loss incurred by the theatre, and Mr. Marlowe two hundred for the damage he had sustained; and all the newspapers rang with varied accounts of the malignant and unprincipled conduct of an unknown assassin, no doubt employed by the rival management.

Less serious, but hardly less unpleasant, circumstances attended Mr. Noddy's every-day life. When at dinner with a company, three-fourths of whom were absolute strangers to him, he would find himself drinking wine with persons to whom he had never spoken, interfering as a third party between each two who were endeavouring to perform the same social ceremony, and interchanging courtesies of the most intrusive and impertinent kind with every person at the table. It was a nod here, and a wink there. "Shall I have the pleasure of wine with you?" said with a tender voice by a loverlooking gentleman opposite to a beautiful girl by his side, would be met by a willing recognition from Mr. Noddy, and his head interposed would meet the adverse glance, and eclipse the fair one's countenance from the proffered compliment. He was obliged to eat of every dish offered to him; for, always appearing to give his assent, the plates were loaded and handed to him by the servants,— astonished in their turn at the extraordinary politeness of the guest to themselves.

One day Mr. Noddy strolled into Harry Phillips' rooms in Bond Street, whilst that astute auctioneer was selling a valuable miscellaneous collection of china, jewellery, pictures, and plate. From some previous business at Noddy Grove, on the Mole, his person, though not his habit, happened to be known to Mr. Phillips; and when he began bidding like fury for every article put up, it rejoiced the heart of the seller. Competition was vain. Salesmen, brokers, and Jews, gave up in despair. The hammer descended on lot after lot; till, finally, two lovely figures of Chinese Mandarins The writer hopes to be forgiven for making a Hamlet of Don Juan, or somebody else.

were exhibited, and as Mr. Noddy, disliking their appearance and action, quitted the room, they were knocked down to his last nod, for twenty guineas. Next day the waggon-load delivered at Dover Street, astonished his servants, who, in the absence of their master, took in and arranged the china, and the pictures, and the plate, and the jewels, in the best manner they could; but their astonishment was nothing to his own when he discovered that he had purchased these bargains to the amount of two thousand three hundred pounds and five half crowns.

Shortly after this Mr. Noddy visited the Surrey Zoological Gardens, to witness an eruption of Mount Vesuvius. In the early part of the evening he walked about nodding at the monkeys, who nodded at him in return, and winking at the owls, who very graciously shut and opened their eyes in reciprocrating the salutation. Some of the animals leapt more nimbly from side to side in their cages, as he gazed upon and twitched at them; whilst the cockatoos on their pegs set up their crests and screeched as frightfully as if they had been perched on the top of the burning mountain. But the worst of all took place as Mr. Noddy was wending his way homeward. By an oversight, not altogether unprecedented in London, an opening to lay down gas-pipes had been left unwatched and unlighted in the street through which he was passing. No wonder that, with a very sidelong nod, he fell into the hole, to which his cries speedily brought the aid of the police. He was extricated in an almost senseless condition, when these active and skilful persons, observing the twist of his neck, immediately concluded that it was out of joint, and began to pull it straight with all their might and main. The torture of the unfortunate gentleman was extreme, but he had to endure many a lug by the ears ere he could make his benevolent persecutors understand that they were endeavouring to rectify nature, and not accident. He was confined to his bed for a month.

On his recovery Mr. Noddy attended a levee. He was presented to her majesty by the vice-chamberlain, and gave her such a nod and such a wink, as she had not received since her accession, nor will perhaps meet with again during the whole of her reign. What would Lord Melbourne give to be allowed a like privilege? The Court Newsman was specially enjoined not to report the circumstance; but it was the gossip of the maids of honour attendant upon the queen at night, that she could not have been angry with Mr. Noddy, as, in truth her majesty herself, on being put to bed, both winked and nodded after the very fashion of that loyal subject. In the ball-room, it must be acknowledged, Mr. Noddy did not shine. There was a heaviness in his demeanour and a gravity which did not accord well with movements on the light fantastic toe. To Almacks, accordingly, he only went once; and was rewarded for his intrusion by the witty Lady ****, at whom he winked, observing that the sleepy-headed fool was fit for nothing but doze-a-doze.

Going down Regent Street one afternoon, our friend met a goodlooking stout lady on the arm of a well-dressed man, who was evincing his perfect independence by smoking a cigar. The fashion of the former, and the superior breeding of the latter, could not restrain Mr. Noddy from his usual trick. A stare at the damsel was

quickly followed by a wicked closure of the left eye and a knowing inclination of the head. A toss of the lady's was the retort. The game was repeated, and a crack over the offending caput from the cane of the smoking bravo was the instant retribution. Mr. Noddy was spread upon the pavement, and his offence being explained to the crowd that soon assembled, the insulted pair walked off in triumph, and he got from the ground to a hackney cab amid the hootings and sneers of the judicious mob.

As he pondered on this, Mr. Noddy felt considerable surprise at the difference existing between different parts of the town. Even so near as the Quadrant, he had winked and nodded at every female he met; and so far from being assaulted by a nod-at-ed stick for it, he had been greeted in return by winks, and nods, and smiles from them all. Liston having cured his broken pate in less time than he reduced Farley's nose to the true Grecian mould, he resumed the tenor of his luckless career.

His last adventure, indeed, approached: the knock down in Regent Street was the shadow before of the coming event. Mr. Noddy was lounging in Hyde Park, when a lovely girl and a military-looking person approached him in deep, low-whispered, and earnest conversation. Attracted by their appearance, he contrived to tip the young lady one of his most powerful winks, and as significant as he had bestowed upon the throned Victoria. A blush was the result; and the wink was re-enacted with the accompaniment of an equally significant motion of the head. Again and again was the affront committed, till the fair one's confusion could no longer be concealed, and her friend was made aware of the annoyance she had suffered. The epithet of insolent scoundrel and a blow was the immediate retaliation, whilst the frightened girl sank fainting on the grass. The spirit of Mr. Noddy was awakened, and the abusive epithet and the blow were returned. A scuffle ensued, and before the unconscious beauty was restored to sense, the cards of the enraged combatants had been exchanged with menaces of future vengeance.

As a gentleman, it now became Mr. Noddy's task to seek out a second, who should see satisfaction given for the winking, nodding, wincing, and drubbing, which had taken place. Having laid his case before his third cousin, Peter Lazenby of the Spanish Service, who, by the by, stood to him in the relationship of next of kin and heir-apparent, that worthy undertook the office with the most friendly alacrity. Captain Macfiercedall of the Blues having appointed his next on the list, Lieutenant Piercefield, to a similar trust, it was arranged that the meeting should "come off" at daybreak next morning, on the grounds of the Hippodrome, just where the private path is disputed.

Upon this race-course the chance was taken whose race should be run. Captain Macfiercedall and Lieutenant Piercefield were not earlier in their attendance than were Thomas Noddy and Peter Lazenby, Esquires. No attempt was made at explanation or conciliation. The distance was sulkily and shortly measured, and the combatants, pistol in hand, placed in their positions. They were to fire together by signal: the word was given and they fired. Captain Macfiercedall missed his opponent; but one of his twinges occurring just as Mr. Noddy pulled the trigger, he gave a sudden turn

round and wounded his second severely in the shoulder. In spite of this misadventure, so anxious was he for the honour of his principal, he again prepared his pistol for a second shot, and retiring a reasonable way farther out of the possible range of the ball, once more gave the signal to fire. Two flashes were visible, and a curl of smoke mounted over the persons of the duellists, Macfiercedall and Noddy. But, alas! the person of the first was still erect: the body of his adversary was stretched bleeding on the earth. He was shot through the head; and with one wink at the Captain, and one nod at his cousin, he breathed forth his spirit on the contested footpath. The Captain took the hint, and in three minutes was, with his second, en route for Calais. Nor was Lazenby long behind him. Having deposited the body of Mr. Noddy in Dover Street, he also embarked for the Continent till the storm blew over. A ceremonial trial at the Old Baily concluded the fatal business, and it was clearly shown by the counsel that the defunct Thomas Noddy, Esquire, was alone to blame throughout the whole transaction. The jury returned a verdict of justifiable homicide, and the judge who tried the cause, as well as the aldermen who sat near him in the court, nodded their entire approbation before they went up stairs to dinner. The remains of poor Tom Noddy, with the bullet in his noddle, were buried at Noddy-cum-Slumbers; and Peter Lazenby, Esquire, succeeded to landed property in Beds. Linc. and Surrey, of no less rental than eight thousand a year.

Having wound up the narrative, it is time that I should conclude, which I the more willingly do since the scribbling has kept me up till long past midnight, and I have been nodding, myself, during the last hour and a half. Of one of my predecessors who wrote with like credit to himself, and much fame, it was said " nunquam dormitat;" and, finishing this my epic, I need not be ashamed to allow that, as Homer sometimes nodded, so at this epoch do I.

TEUTHA.

THE

POSTMA N.

BY DR. LICHFIELD.

His portrait is an every-day picture of life, and yet not easy to paint. He is the very incarnation of alacrity, the embodied spirit of regularity and precision. Day by day, hour by hour, he is to be seen traversing with rapid step the limits of his own narrow district. The heavens may smile, or frown. Revolutions may shake the land; or peace and prosperity gladden its children. Disease may wave its pestilent torch; or sudden calamity sweep away its victims. But the postman is still at his post. A diurnal dispenser of news. Α kind of HOPE in the Queen's livery, visiting every one in turn, and welcomed by all. A messenger of life and of death; of gratified ambition, or disappointed desire; of gracious acceptance, or harsh refusal. He is still welcome, for his presence, and that which he brings at least, puts an end to the most cruel of human sufferingsuncertainty.

He is the chief link which unites the past to the present, the present to the future. The mysterious voice which whispers its secrets in every ear, and touches every heart. Like Fortune he is

blind; and like her he dispenses unconsciously pleasure or pain. The sharp summons communicated by his dexter finger and thumb to the knocker causes emotion in every heart. All doors are open to him; all hands stretched forth. Each ear is on the alert to learn for whom the missive is intended. And, if emotion comes with him, it likewise precedes and follows him. And if to-day he brings despatches from a near part of the empire, full of little passions, little anxieties, and little coquetries, to-morrow this universal plenipotentiary, who has mastered time and space, may be the bearer of more profound and heart-stirring intelligence, wafted on post-office pinions from the furthest ends of the earth.

man.

But the visits of the Twopenny-postman are usually clothed with a less important character than those of his colleague, the General postThe latter may bring the news of distant battle and of death; of fortunes lost by shipwreck, or gained by successful enterprise. The labour of the former consists chiefly in being the bearer of the thousand trifles which constitute the business of ordinary life ;-invitations to the ball and concert; notes of congratulation and inquiry; billets-doux, coleur de rose, perfumed with the sweet breath of flowers, folded into fantastic forms, and sealed with devices which let slip the secret they try to confine. But still the twopenny postman is the same smart, assiduous, and steady character, as he of the general. No labour is too heavy for him; the letter of the merchant, bearing a bank order of large amount, is as light as the letter of his clerk, full of love and protestation. Like the general postman, he is the master of every secret, without knowing anything of the mystery himself. He has all our private affairs in his keeping, but never betrays them. He reads by instinct the character of a letter without opening it. He witnesses-nay, is a party to,-every intrigue, every emotion, every passion of life; but is so discreet and silent that he never alludes to the one or the other. He is equally the bearer of the request and the reply; causes the wound, and cures it; carries at the same time consolation and despair, and is accompanied in his progress by a clamorous concert of complaints, prayers, praises, and entreaties; which, however, do not in the slightest degree disturb his equanimity.

The postman is also a man of general information. He knows precisely our standing in society, according as we are rich or poor, celebrated or unknown, wise or otherwise. He finds all this imaged in our correspondence; and in the same clear mirror beholds reflected the extent of our influence, and the character of our understanding, until we are laid bare to his observation in all our native beauty or deformity. Such is the drama of life-so interesting, so striking, so profound,-which is played by the postman every day; and afterwards complicated and renewed at each succeeding turn of duty.

We may finish the portrait of the postman in a few words. He is active and merry; for he has no time to be idle and sad. He is honest and trustworthy; for his reputation, and that of his department, depend upon these qualities. He is civil and obliging; for the new year must needs come round, with its gratuities and rewards; and, to crown all, he is faithful and true; for, though entrusted, as we have seen, with all the secrets of the town, he never dreams of divulging them.