The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1855-10-02 00:00:00

SUPPLEMENT TO THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD.

like lovers after a quarrel, lay embraced in each
other's smile !

SHEPHERD : I could speak for hours, days,
months, and years, about the wather, without
e'er becoming tiresome. 0 man, a cawm !
NORTH : On shore, or at sea ?

SHEPHERD : Either. I'm wrapped up in my
plaid, and lyin a' my length on a bit green plat-
form, fit for the fairies' feet, wi' a craig hangin
rawer me a thousand feet high, yet bright and
balmy a' the way up wi' flowers and briars, and
brooms and birks, and mosses maist beautifu' to
behold wi' half-shut ee, and through aneath ane's
arm guardin the face frae the cloudless sunshine!
NORTH : A rivulet leaping from the rock
SHEPHERD : NO, Mr. North, no loupin ; for
it seems as if were nature's ain Sabbath, and the
verra waters were at rest. Look down upon the vale
profound, and the stream is without motion ! No
doubt, if you were walking along the bank, it
would be murmuring with your feet. But here—
here up among the hills, we can imagine it asleep,
even like the well within reach of my staff!_

NORTH : Tickler, pray make less noise, if you
can, in drinking, and also in putting down your
tumbler. You break in upon the repose of
James's picture.
SHEPHERD : Perhaps a bit bonny butterfly is
resting, wi' faulded wings, on a gowan, no a yard
frae your cheek ; and noo, waukening out o' a
simmer dream, floats awa in its wavering beauty,
but as if unwilling to leave its place of mid-day
sleep, comin back and back, and roun' and roun',
on this side and that side, and ettlin in its capri-
cious happiness to fasten again on some brighter
floweret, till the same breath o' round that lifts
up your hair sae refreshingly catches the airy
voyager, and wafts her away into some other
nook of her ephemeral paradise.
TICKLER : I did not know that butterflies in-
habited the regions of snow.
SHEPHERD : Ay, and mony million moths ;
some o' as lovely green as the leaf of the moss-
rose, and ithers bright as the blush with which
she salutes the dewy dawn ; some yellow as the
long steady streaks that lie below the sun at set,
and ithers blue as the sky before his orb has
westered. Spotted, too, are all the glorious
creatures' wings—say rather, starred wi' constel-
lations ! Yet, 0 sirs ! they are but creatures o' a
day !
NORTH : Go on with the calm, James—the
calm !

SHEPHERD : Gin a pile o' grass straughtens
itself in silence, you hear it distinctly. I'm
thinking that was the noise o' a beetle gaun to
pay a visit to a freen on the ither side o' that
mossy stane. The melting dew quakes ! Ay,
sing awa, my bonny bee, maist industrious o'
God's creatures ! Dear me, the heat is ower
muckle for him ; and he burrows himsel in amang
a tuft o' grass, like a beetle panting ! and noo
invisible a' but the yellow doup o' him. I too
feel drowsy, and will go to sleep amang the
mountain solitude.
NORTH : Not with such a show of clouds
SHEPHERD : No ! not with such a show of
clouds.

of ill-fame, three beer houses, a milk shop, an
old shoe shop, and another heathen tradesman
who sells tobacco and chicory, tea, and cheese
scraps, and at the corner of the street is a gin
shop. My other neighbours are working men—
a gun-smith, an actor at the theatre, a mender of
shoes, a gilt-toy maker, a lock-smith, a printer,
and a sweep ; the rest are labourers ; and there
are also two women who go out to wash. I know
there is not a single person in the street who goes
to church. I know that one or two have been
oftener in Moor-street lock-up than in a place of
worship—that, to a family, they are all in debt,
either to the pawnbroker, the landlord, the sur-
geon, or their employers. I know also that there
is scarcely one person among us who has not
been better off, and who is not capable of being
better off than he is just now. There are in my
street thirty-six houses, and three courts of forty-
two houses more. I have known more than four
hundred men, women, and children living at one
time in these houses. I have tried to count up
their present number, and it is not far from four
hundred now. One family has lost its father ;
he was transported for stealing brass from his
employer ; the brass was found at his house in
the form of children's playthings, which he had
made at home, and which one of the youngest in
the family sold in the street. The mother, by
means of washing, keeps on her house, feeds her
five children (or at least four, for one is in the
Gem-street school), and pays her way better than
any ; the youngest son, who has fits, and whom
no one will employ, sings in the street for what
he can get. This woman is a fair specimen of all
the other industrious women in our street, and to
these women is owing all the decency and good
feeling which we possess: The principal events
which take place among us are the birth of a
child, the seizing of a neighbour's goods for rent,
and the visit of a policeman. No surgeon is ever
seen at the first, and the seizure for rent seldom
takes place without a united effort to save the
tables and bed of the house that is about to be
broken up. The policeman comes and goes
without help and without molestation. The
man earning the most money as a workman
is the gunsmith, and of the heathen family of
which he is the head I will say a few things, and
conclude this my first letter in the hope that you
will let me write to you again. There are seven
in this family—mother and father, two sons, and
three daughters. There is scarcely a night in the
week when this man comes home sober. He has
been twice in gaol. His wife goes out to do wash-
ing, and it is by her labour alone that the house
is kept together. I have known this woman be
confined of a child on a Sunday, and out again to
wash on the Tuesday following. She can neither
read nor write—but nothing delights her more
than a song, a reading from a story-book, and
going once a-year to the play. She is at the side
of every sick bed, nurses at least once a-day every
new-born baby in the place, and not unfrequently
buys a pinafore, an orange, or a carrot, to give to
some of the little heathen that are sprawling about.
She has come to me many times in a year for help
not for herself, but for others, and her falling
tears have left her face all the more shining as she
has got what she sought. Once one of the girls
in the street could not go to the theatre because
her frock was in pawn. She made every trial of
her good humour upon my friend the pawnbroker
to get him only to lend her the frock for the day,
and, though she did not succeed, yet, because it
was Monday, she raised 18d. among the neighbours
and the girl went to the play. For seven years I have
known this woman, during which time she has
brought up her children in cleanliness and d t• in us y,
and there is not a neighbour who needed help that
she has not helped, and the last thing I saw her

doing she has done a hundi
giving a cup of tea in the 111
who seemed incapable of craw
had neglected by his cursed br
Nearly the whole street is 17
certain it is that none can
has been attracted by a fight
and none can sooner make
band turn a friendly face u
struck down. So that some
susceptible of being made
taken for this purpose. Is tL
Bad as we all are here, are Nv(
can be governed and kept in
by a washerwoman ?" The.
be gathered, is to repudiate
thenism.

MARRIED AGAINST
PORTS3I9

SIR WALTER SCOTT used
ing anecdote :
" My cousin Natty," said
man some forty years ago at .
two other companions had
overstaid their leave, spent a. 0,
run
up
shipan
made a
immense
signalbill af
et
ra
staai
iv °
ie: bit
The
i'
lady said :
" ' No, gentlemen, you cannot`'
paying your reckoning,' and 4°9060
words with appropriate actions,.ant r
under the keeping of a sufficie- 1
d
bailiffs. roe an
" They felt they were in a se- - ' , I
be released. odickli'„B bt
No, no,' said Mrs. -.--„,10.--;„,te
satisfied some way or other;.-d is tiiesse‘ i
ruined if you don't get on Int,d 11
" They all made long face°-
A tic
it was true. ,„/0-
of
" ' Well,' said she, ' I'll PI cstla.,,l#
I
am so circumstanced here that a 1 0,7 el
business as a single woman and
stP .
somehow to have a husbau'd, -dril'sg., hO
must be able to produce a rll,nifOlc."'
and therefore, the only terms on any",
have leave to go on board te-ITadt ei.
of you consent to marry me; 'nod, dons
who it is, but by all that's gviail,ll"
will have or else all three go t°' 0
ship sail without, you. Illd
6 ~ ~1
" The virago Was not to be pac a
youths, left to themselves, age;
draw lots, and it happened to
No time was to be lost, and so:o 0
to the church, and my poor relatlt Co
spliced. The bride, on return of V,
good dinner and several bottles loraoS
and having tumbled them allcilt10:/ $
them off. The ship sailed, anisecr'
religiously adhered to the oath t:'' tyl
made previous to drawing lots. .1 05
" The bride, I should have Ow ir
propose an eternal separation. Tool
" Some months after, at u„-- 'S
papers reached the midshiP'3l'oicik
Watty, who was observed to be O
of to'
carelessly reading an accoulit wJO
murder at Portsmouth, suadel"tioll
ecstacy, and forgetting his ebliga

stfero.•
fall iylr
06

cried out— ill
Thank heaven, my wife i---8 -
------:

LITERARY _ES2III
v 0191
ENGLISH TASTE.-14011d01111111„,du;be4
she can never become Athens.
nl'
served for Paris. In London there "t (164
material development in the hig,lie,"eritbi
fection, a gigantic exaggeration 01 e'