The Sun.
London, England, 1837-09-12 00:00:00

LAMBETH-STREET.

Yesterday John Allen, a singularly looking old man, was
placed at the bar, before Messrs. COOMBIS and HARD-
WICK, on a charge of stealing a watch from the person of
Daniel Thomas Boorack, a sailor, in Stepney Church on
the previous morning.
The complainant stated that while sitting in a pew in
Stepney Old Church, on Sunday marning, he looked at his
watch and replaced it, as he thought, in his fob-pocket. In
a few minutes afterwards, however, he discovered that he
had lost it.
The Rev. Mr. James, the curate of Stepney Church, here
intimated to the Magistrates that the robbery did not take
place during the service, but during the marriage ceremony,
and that the complainant himself was in attendance to be
married at the time.
Mr. CooMBEs (to the complainant)—Why it appears
you went to church to be married? Sailor—l suppose so.
—(Laughter.)
Mr. CoombEs—Why you left all that out. How was
it that you did not mention it in your statement ? Sailor
(after a pause)—l forgot it.—(Renewed laughter.)
Mr. COoMßEs—Was it before or after you were married
that you pulled out and looked at your watch ? Sailor—
It must have been before, for I missed it as soon as I was
married.
Mrs. Brown, one of the pew-openers, said she saw the
prisoner with a watch in his hand, and after showing it to a
man who stood by him he concealed it in his hat, and hur-
ried out of the church.
The prisoner denied the charge, and was discharged.

The beautiful little town cf Taunton, which has been
visited by many fatal cases of dysentery, is now restored to
the former salubrious state for which it has ever been noted.
MR•IRVING'S NEW ROMANCE," THE HUNTERS
or THE PRAIRIE."—There is about these pages the same
charm that belonged to those of the older trasellers—the
charm of wild adventure and of novel scenes. Mr. Irving
carries us completely along with him. In proportion as
society becomes more and more artificial, and the pathway
of every individual is chalked on in the beaten track,
works like the one now before us have a delight especially
their own. The Hawk Chief, the hero of the story, is a
fine specimen of a race that will soon he only a tradition ;
and he is surrounded by a group of hunters, trappers,
rangers,—wild inhabitants of the wildest scenes. If Mr.
Cooper will not give us any more of his Indian annals, we
congratulate the public that the mantle has fallen on such
worthy shoulders as those of Mr. Irving.—Literary Gazette.
THE RIVAL No vELI sTs.—Speaking of Mrs.
Hall's admirable new novel of " Uncle Horace," a clever
contemporary says—" As far as our own reading is con-
cerned, this novel has stood a test of the severest order. To
follow so closely upon the bold and varied delineation of
character presented us in the Stokeshill-place ' of Mrs.
Gore is to be subjected to as dangerous a comparison as
any lady-novelist would willingly encounter ; and we con-
vey indirectly the highest praise by the admission that
Uncle Horace' comes out of the ordeal without having so
much as a single grey hair singed upon his glorious old
pate.' He is a fine old English gentleman, and ought to
live on till the present age has become the olden time. If
he should not be alive a century hence posterity will be
the loser by its ignorance. His character is the crown and
flower of the work ; and truly he is worth a wilderness of
merchants, such as sometimes worry us in hooks, or bore
us in real life."

CAPTAIN MARRYAT.—We observe that a new
edition of Captain Marryat's new novel " Snarley Yow ;
or, the Dog Fiend" is announced for Saturday next. This
author well deserves the success he has met with. Every
one must remember the interest he excited in " Jacob
Faithful" by the history of the life of a mere waterman on
the Thames. To his genius all places seem alike. What-
ever he touches he adorns ; and in " Snarley Yow" he has
added another to his many literary triumphs. In all his
productions there is displayed an almost Shakspearean
knowledge of human nature, and his present work is such
as none but a master-hand could have penned.
A BLACK JOKE.—On Friday evening, about seven
o'clock, a sweep of the name of Clarke, went into Mr.
Denner's shop, pawnbroker, Long-row, to pledge a hat,
and being told they did not take such articles in, he l inqu •ed
what they did take. On being answered " What suitedr
them," he hastened off, and in a few minutes returned
with a bag on his shoulders, containinga a large quantity of
soot, which he threw on the counter, the same time ask-
ing what they could advance upon it. It was not until a
constable had been sent for that the nuisance was removed,
and there being a large hole in the ba g (no doubt made in-
tentionally) the counter and shop-floor were almost covered
with the black " cream of the jest."---Nottingham Review.