Star.
London, England, 1831-08-22 00:00:00

' TALES OP THE nFrniuroxs.
TVS lIMICEXDIAIIT.
It would bass been observed that the last. No-
vember presented many fine days ; it will be also
recollected that the same month produced foggy'
evenings and dark nights.
The (dock of the village church had tolled the
hour of night, %%hen Frederick Morely, fatigued in
body, hartassed in mind, and disheartened with his
bad success—for he had traversed the whole neigh-,
bourhood, and found no work--was sauntering
sadly and slowly towards his mother's cottage.
As he passed the Blue Boar, he was hailed by a
fellow labourer. and called in to see something of
importance. He felt no curiosity, but on the call
being repeated, he entered the public-house. He
found the tap .room, which was tolerably capacious,
filled with labourers from all the neighbouring
farms, the greater number being men out of work,
and among the rest, those who had been that morn-
ing dismissed with himself. A man in a white
hat—no other than Mark Swing, Ng. was
treating the with jorums of double X. Fred
\tnrely was forced to sit down and join them : the
kader said he would sing a song—lie did so : it was
to one of those tunes which find witnesses of their
vulgar popularity in every band and barrel-organ
in the streets of London.

I'd be a minister, born la a nation
Where taxes, and pensions. and subsidies meet,
Grasping and griping without inoderation,
All the good gifts that are pretty and sweet..
I'd nes,. r sigh for reform of an evil—
What would reform do but lessen my pay
I'd let the labourers go to the devil,
I'd send the farmers to show them the way.
I'd be a Minister,
I'd be a Minister,
Dining with kings on a sunshiny day.
'llia stanza, which was intended to excite a sort
f discontented feeling, was followed by another,
wore calculated to raise a laugh.

I'd never go to the city to dinner.
I'd not be pelted for sake of the Mayor.
What, it my own turde soup should be thinner.
Roast beef and safety are very good fare.
•

I'd make my men dear the ditih-of the Town ;
I'd fill its stores with provisions and shot;—
I'd have the soldiers, and show 'em my power;
I'd send the whole opposition to pot.
I'd be a minister,
I'd be a minister,
_ _ _

Carrying measures through boroughs that rot ! ! I
This song was duly applauded by the whole
patty, and the last lines sung in chorus. More
ale teas brought, and the .en drank the singer's
health. The latter rose to return the compliment.
" And now," said he, " I'll tell ye what I wouldn't
be—l wouldn't be a poor devil of a labourer, able
and willing to work, and then not paid for it—l
wouldn't put up with nine shillings a week to keep
a wife and family—l wouldn't starve—l would'nt
stand no Jenny-darbies—l wouldn't pay no tithe.
—I wouldn't let no master of mine have a thresh-
ing machine—no, blow me if I would, not for no
man—l'd put an end to it at once, that's what I'd
do." "So we pill ! so we will I " was the cry ;
" we'll put an end it I" " That's right, my
friends,' vociferated the-leader, " and listen to
me. Look here, I've got a good sturdy band of
two hundred brave fellows like yourselves, and
they'll be here in• an hour; and we'll all go in a
body and break old Farmer Smith's threshing ma-
chine, and then we'll burn the parson's hay-rick,
and I warrant we'll get plenty of work to-morrow.
So, come cheer.up, my hearties, and in the mean-
while we'll take another jorum. Here, landlord,
bring us more ale." More ale was brought; and
the party continued drinking till near midnight,
when the two hundred " brave fellows " came up,
and the whole body left the Blue Boar ; and,
headed by Mark Swing, marched off for farmer
Smith's barn.

Frederick Morely had, for a few moments, hesi-
tated whether to accompany them or not; for
though the ale and songs had affected him, as well
as the rest, yet they had not deprived him entirely
of the right use of his reason. When, however,
he recollected that Farmer Smith's threshing ma-
chine was the very one that had deprived him of
his labour—and that the bay-rick, which they had
threatened to consume, belonged to the avaricious
rector who had taken his old mother's sow--a feel-
ing of retaliation, natural to man, rankled in his
bosom, and caused him to decide on joining the
gang of rioters.
Swearing against every one in authority, tithes,
machinery, and the currency-bill, the baud reached
the farm of Mr. Smith. Here they alarmed all
the fetidly, destroyed his threshing-machine, set
fire to two hay-ricks, and a considerable quantity
of corn. After this, they marched off for the
Parsonage. Here they were guilty cf the same
depredations; and on their way to the next town,
cried—" No starvation—no two-pence a day—
cheap bread—no machinery—no tithes !" &c. when
they were met by a body of special constables,
and some few retreated. The rest, however, kept
close, and were suffered to pass on unmolested.
But the constables thought proper to pursue the
fugitives, and succeeded in taking five or six :
amongst this number, was Frederick Merely.
To mothers who have watched over their chil-
dren with all the tenderness of parental anxiety—
v. have seen them grow like summer flowers
',hinted in a fertile soil, from the fragile buds of
infancy to the fairer blossoms of youth—and,
final y, to the maturer fruits of manhood—who
have been left in a cold and heartless world, with
no
other ties to bind them to society—no other joys
w gladden a widowed heart—no other comforts to
soothe a wounded spirit —who have borne the brunt
of the world's scorn for them, and are now in their
turn looking for their child's cherishing to gild
their last sky with some bright rays of happiness,
and dispel the clouds of sorrow from their sun
before it shall have sought it west—to such mothers
we leave the conception of Dame Morley's grief,
when her mind was filled with (lark and vague
doubts concerning the fate of all she most loved.
And to other younger beings—to the beautiful,
who are born in a world where they must link
heart and hand with the base—to those who have
loved mon, with a deep and absorbing love, that
carries madness to the brain, and delirium to the
heart—that builds a temple there, and wakes a
flame that must be kept alive by the sacrifice of
better things—by the outpourings of affection—
the reliance of hope—and the bright confidence
of fervor, truth, and trust; in a word, to those
who would part from all happiness, and yield every
good, and forsake every tie, for the one dear ob-
ject which their hearts have cherished..-we leave
it to imagine the weight of pain that oppressed the
lone PEGG T in her usoertninty ; and we call on,
them to admire the meek sweetness of her gentle'
spirit, es she smothered her owe grief, with an
effort that must have cost her agony, to calm the