The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser. — Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1855-08-28 00:00:00

T. 4e Yiiirs ] ellild taka lad ,? teL .,re 4 ? Y. • %Was she the -soother of the ..t-two 4 i,tis 4 ? Was -she the governess ? Was she a V ; , 'Was -she single, or wed ? ,Shemas :41304 tolle was • the mother's -sister ; !I decided 'o pe2tet. And, after all, waslser haughty look tre,._'-y ,resrehensible ? Had Ake riot been ad- Iti'_44'cl-su denly, by -a stranger, and that stranger „„ 4 --a man of somewhat dis+• 0 ' figure, and v4 t h- 0 . . 4 41v 17 /rasing moustaches anpue ? I.re/ented ; andas be ll her the ' ,that t ente r lea„,.,.„ .Gardens, my heart gave a ,„,!Lt 4 lion -tor i cotisidered it anco.ramonly likely "t4e 'would :break 1 ' I lie t t occur: l o ose or _zoinething or IN i ttati ttit il'o draw , forth -my chivalry, and extort, o to ,, (l lis ; n ;; . , I was not in error in my antici- N't Wa ll - , -4 ° ll gli toe circumstance that did ali o l H a To `wild , even -for an imagination like At oo li hav'e h ome suddenly, I almost think I 'lO4 ray e yes, held my breath, and ' b I toul a pe_tit: it was, "I had no timerto re fle c t ‘44 -4 10, _ 4 14 tol4llost idea in ray mind was, that I , th e 't . .`,,,,51l 13 : e ttlin heroic -something desperate.; ' e : .-1 / 4 3 rt. g. ' offered, I instantaneously zw,,ettei, ei t nutty offer • , 4,,4t a„"Nlre ;ttt, y, ovith others, were looking over a - 2 . 1 18 `,, th e "L the bear ; and in order that .all h74l:4eth- lll lrse-maid had the little girl in her :thlAg e t Oleo t e little girl had thehaby in hers. This road I , 4 Liity Was n ot ver y reprehensible, as a Ni • "° l 4 ''e not for the . maid of course had f i , lik„, of h o 3 t ; t t, L II Pip. D . Lh the children , the elder of whom 4 •41 .14 ' "1th glee ''attention, there oh ek ek e ' . ; and my, 'it O b 114tvel directed to the lady, who gi t , 1 11 ,,,. r ed . y a„..N t iNe li „, 1 4 the spectacle 'before me. . All ve ' 4 e ' 4l qre w as a scream from the little h 4ll d ;144 lllf°llllaate baby over the enclo km t he I n was . h ,,e t o Na b " Senseless on its face in the.area -4'4 fi N eeeu ,l,e tear was hastily descending the ''' l lk .1.- At is Prey, To climb the .enclosure, 4:4 04t 5 -,,i11t0 tif did not take me many diet 1) 4 4 e ar ea, I; th -, a)ap - took me at a i too many. I was '44 - e b" e f rok 1-• and before I reached o ks 4 ea r h the spot, . *.4t•V w ai , L . a d eaught up the infant, whose fit ha llo - ulteied • • f • and on my ap tkp tt , e f or +L._ in its Ur , 1 ltti , e at rapi d . 'Lle Pole, and began to ascend 14Stttike for ,tty. I followed, without giving CllB ci ca ught 1 1 1 4°1111 ent's reflection, and while tlN't The o ld of clothes of the ,c4e kritle naction as the long 11 4 i ce 4 were dreg 8 well intended ; but the 4 ,„ to u r ..0 08ed L: holddfol.---pethapg fatal ; for k i t '44 th e grolin"d7 T ' and the poor little thing ljto i t , 11 . t did - t- began mechanically to de ,li 4 ° l liy 2 1 °.t dare to look at what was in kOti thi ll,ot 10_1 ,hfeless corpse. And presently kti;i 4 geN tio ' cl ic ed for the exigencies of my own m 1,4 1 tto \v ' te de n 'Y every thought. The bear 4 4 Vls, 4 seending with huge strides and otl l ,N t : ll ef \,,611(1 anotlier below—a great black 1 44 4 kv4ruse Presence in the enclosure I had %et 4 bi t e--Was shambling along to the hi 4 e ct oh t ,lte eom r L tip mry hi ae, and had already almost . t - viit ti lleft rlt ttli i tl e• The fix was terrible, but it ittl th e bi„ ll ee, Sta nt ;. for the keeper now made i Vt t . tick L ttod with a few hearty wallops ''at 4 to u ea . kt ‘_ t 41 pp ea rto the right about, while my settsl,4l.ellt'ou'ci !abort with a terrific growl. NO ee t 11p0 1 , 83 ,1ng here ?" cried the keeper, as Aattle.;*° the - „ , 19 ground. "I must give you 1 4'4 I ttidrv e 'lee for a lunatic ?" " Never tl lt b1i,,,,t.', .‘ faillti c hild, for Ott kri? c Th e y ; "look to t he . „,, ! t o Th child what child Are p l . 1,. ti t b er e p, ~ 4,t0 Ifi , °Net t , 1 and I forced my eyes upon I - me 44 w -e •Le• The creature's head was t h , 1 11 ,.. e lio a z ! 1 e 1414 - ‘ ll . l , 11 4 ' 5 . 4 '11re. a lordly know how I got Ott li j 4 4 ,_ if / Was und of laughter was in 4 1t et gir e ,_'°llflest.g%nade of ears, and every ear ittottli4"tore than nursemaid nursemaid enjoyed the . `Sif I vith el i oteh ed " 4."Ybody, but the little girl ti t Z 1 till ,l i lie Iniir ,t lile furiously, as if charg -44de,: e frogmen7r of her doll, and was not te hel:ts of that sickening baby over irlY shoulder. I darted '-STJTPLEIVIEW TO THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD 1 away ; ~anil it was high time to do so, for all the company in the Gardens were rushing to the spot. The fair cause of the mischief was stand . ing a little way off, leaning on the arm of a tall noble-looking man, with moustaches ten times as big as mine. She seemed choking between re ' cent alarm.cnd present mirth ; and as I passed : " Sir," said she, with swelling cheeks and un steady voice ; " my husband wishes to thank you for our little girl's doll !" But I was off like a shot, without waiting even to touch my hat ; and thankful I was to get out of the gate, for many .of the spectators, on seeing me run, followed me chanically. It would be vain to attempt to de scribe my reflections as I sped rapidly along. 'But in the midst of all, I knew what was before me—l had an intense consciousness of what was to be done. My resolve was fixed, and I felt an insane joy at the ;idea that no possible interven tion could prevent me from executing it. As soon as I reached home, I went straight to my own room, locked and bolted myself in, sat de liberately down before the glass, drew forth my razor, and shaved off my moustaches. SNOW:STOR3L—A BRACE of BAGMEN. LOST IN THE SNOW ,„1731041 PROFESSOR WILSON'S " NOCTES AMBROSIAN.E," VOL. I.) NORTH : Have you had Any snow yet, James, in the Forest SHEPHERD: Only some skirrin sleets—no aneneli to track a hare. But, safe us a' ! what a storm was yon, thus early in the season too, in the Highlands 1 I wush I had been in Taman towl that nicht. No a wilder region for a snaw storm on a' the yearth. Let the wund come frae what airt it likes, richt doun Glen Aven, or up frae Grantown, or across frae the woods o' Abernethy, or far aff frae the forests at the Head o' Dee, you wad think that it was the Deevil himsel howlin wi' a' his legions. A black thunder-storm's no half sae fearsome to me as a white snaw ane. There is an ocular grandeur in it, wi' the opening heavens sending forth the flashes o' lichtnin, that brings out the burnished woods frae the distance close upon you where you staun, a' the time the hills rattling like stanes on the roof o' a house, and the rain either descending in a universal deluge, or here and there pouring down in straths till the thunder can scarcely swell the roar o' a thousand cataracts. NORTH : Poussin—Poussin—Poussin ! SHEPHERD : The heart quakes, but the imagi nation even in its awe is elevated. You still have a hold on the external world, and a lurid beauty mixes with the magnificence till there is an austere joy in terror. NORTH : Burke Burke Burke —Edmund Burke ! SHEPHERD : But in a nicht snaw-storm the ragin world o' elements is at war with life. 'Within twenty yards o' a human dwelling, you may be remote from succour as at the Pole. The drift is the drift of death. Your eyes are extin guished in your head—your ears frozen—your tongue dumb. Mountains and glens are all alike —so is the middle air eddying with flakes and the glimmerin heavens. An army would be stopt on its march—and what then is the tread o' ae puir solitary wretch, man or woman, struggling on by theirsel, or sittin doun, ower despairing even to pray, and fast congealin, in a sort o' dwam o' de lirious stupefaction, into a lump o' icy and rust ling snaw ! Wae's me, wae's me ! for that auld woman and her wee granddauchter, the bonniest lamb, folk said, in a' the Highlands, that left Tamantowel that nicht, after the merry straths peys were over, and were never seen again till after the snaw, lying no five hunder yards out o' the toon, the bairn wrapt round and round in the crone's plaid as well as in her•ain, but for a' that ; dead as a flower-stalk that has been forgotten to be taken into the house at nicht, and in the mornin brittle as glass in its beauty, although, till you come to touch it, it would seem to be alive ! NORTH : With what very different feelings one would read an account of the death of a brace of Bagmen in the snow ! How is that to be ex plained, James ? SHEPHERD : You see, the imagination pictures the twa Bagmen as Cockneys. As the snaw was getting dour at them, and geein them sair flaffs and dads on their faces, spittin in their verra een, ruggin their noses, and blawin upon their blubbery lips, till they blistered, the Cockneys wad to be waxing half feared and half angry, and dammin the " Heelans," as the cursedest kintra that ever was kittled. But wait awee, my gentle men, and you'll keep a lowner sugh or you get half-way from Dalnacardoch to Dalwhinnie. NORTH : A wild district, for ever whirring, even in mist snow, with the gorcock's wing. SHEPHERD : Whisht—haud your tongue, till I finish the account o' the death of the twa Bag men in the snaw. Ane o' their horses—for the creturs are no ill mounted—slidders awa doun a bank, and gets jammed into a snaw-stall, where there's nae room for turnin. The other horse grows obstinate wi' the sharp stour in his face, and proposes retreating to Dalnacardoch, tail foremost ; but no being sae weel up to the walkin or the trottin backwards, as that English chiel Townsend, the pedestrian, he cloits doun first on his hurdies, and then on his tae side, the girths burst, and the saddle hangs only by a tack to the crupper. NORTH : Do you know, James, that though you are manifestly drawing a picture intended to be ludicrous, it is to me extremely pathetic ? SHEPHERD : The twa Cockneys are now' forced to act as dismounted cavalry through the rest of the campaign, and sit doun and cry —pretty babes o' the wood—in each ither's arms ! John Frost decks their noses and their ears with icicles—and each vulgar physiognomy partakes of the pathetic character of a turnip, making an appeal to the feelings on Halloween.—Dinna sneeze that way when ane's speakin, sir ! NORTH : You ought rather to have cried, " God bless you." SHEPHERD : A' this while neither the snaw nor the wund has been idle—and baith Cockneys are sitting up to the middle, poor creturs, no that verra cauld, for driftin snaw sune begins to fin' warm and comfortable, but, wae's me! unco, unco sleepy,—and not a word do they speak ! and now the snaw is up to their verra chins, and the bit bonny, braw, stiff, fause shirt-collars that they were sae proud o' sticking at their chafts, are as hard as aim, for they've gotten a sair Scotch starchin,—and the fierce North cares naething for their towsy hair a' smellin wi' Kaly dor and Macassar, no it indeed, but twurls it a' into ravelled hanks, till the frozen mops bear nae earthly resemblance to the ordinary heads o' Cockneys ;—and hoo indeed should they, lying in sic an unnatural and out-o'-the-way place for them, as the moors atween Dalnacardoch and Dalwhinnie ? NORTH: Oh, James! say not that they perished SHEPHERD : Yes, sir, they perished; under such circumstances, it would have been too much haveto exp fled.ec t of It the did vital so a s n p d a spark that pairt ha o t r it osrheould interest ing not bagmen never slept the sleep of death. Gie me the lend o' your handkercher, sir, for I agree wi' you that the picture's verra pathetic. 0 r 1 OPIA