The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1843-06-02 00:00:00

NEW SONG,

Old Rosin the Beau. American air. Written by J. B. Buck
atone, Esq. Liverpool : Rime and Son.

This capital song, which Mrs. Fitzwilliam sang with so
much applause at the Liver Theatre, has been published,
with a portrait of the songstress on the title page. It is one
of the heat songs of the sort we have heard, and never fails;
if sung with humour, to excite much amusement. It is quite
as good, in fact better, than Jim Crow and fifty others.

A FLIGHT IN THE AERIAL

(Franz Tail's Magazine for June.)

" It's no use, gentlemen," said Henson, pleasantly but
firmly. " We're ready to start. A great problem in science
is on the eve of being solved. I put it to you as men of
education, as philanthropists. Will you, for a small matter
of personal comfort, delay the great experiment ?"

4; Oh, it," exclaimed the modern Hogarth, " science
is all very well, and philanthropy may be so too—although I
never knew a philanthropist yet that was not a scoundrel—
but I'll see them both at the bottom of the ocean before I'll
consent to be shut up in a furnace, like Monsieur Chabcrt.
I'm not a salamander."

" It is most probable that we shall all be at the bottom of
the ocean if you or some other of our friends don't accept
the vacant shovel," said Henson, smiling. He stepped back
and called down something into the engine-room ; then ad-
vancing to the end of the cabin, he lifted a hatchet that was
lying beside a large pin, around which was coiled a cable of
the thickness of your arm, and with two rapid strokes cut
the rope in two. That instant the vessel shot forward like
an arrow. Cruikshank disappeared under the table, I was
projected into Lever's lap, Ainsworth and Jenkins embraced
each other on the floor.

" Now, gentlemen, settle it among yourselves," said Hen-
son, taking his seat very quietly between the tiller ropes.
" We are off, and must have a stoker."

" Remonstrance was now fruitless. We therefore picked
ourselves up and proceeded to draw lota for the vacant posts
with the best grace we could. Meanwhile Cruikahank kept
muttering dark sayings about ' unhandsome advantage,' and
making gestures typical of a desire to have a little fancy
sparring with Mr. Henson. But when he drew the steward's
place, the berth which he had previously destined for himself,
he became wonderfully tranquil, nay, even smiled at Ains-
worth's look of horror, when the dreaded post of stoker fell
to his lot. I drew the cook's place, Jenkins the cabin boy's;
and that the joke might be thoroughly kept up, Lever under-
took to be the gentleman of the party.
" Ainsworth, my lad, let me mix you a tumbler," said
Cruikshank, who bad by this time ensconced himself behind
a chevaux-de.frize of bottles, flanked by two enormous
bastions of loaf-sugar, and garrisoned with a large supply of
shot in the shape of limes. "It will do you good before you
turn in for the night. Warm work, you know I"
"You'll excuse me, Mr. Cruikshank ; I've had one stoker
tipsy to-night already," here broke in our conductor. " Not
a drop till daylight. Mr. Ainsworth, the tire's getting low,
I see," he continued, as he glanced through a wicket behind
him, which commanded a view of the furnace. " You'll
require to turn in and watch it."

" Good night, my dear fellow," said we all, pressing round
the author of Itookwood, and shaking him affectionately by
the hand. "It might have been our own case, you know."
" I wish to heaven it had!" said William Harrison, dash-
ing into the engine-room, which Henson deliberately locked
behind him.

Upon my soul, Duggjne," said I, " our friend Ainsworth
was much to be pitied. I dare say he would rather hare been
in his own Well-hole. But the bottle's done. Capital wine
this, is it not? Lisschen, mein Liebeskind, kommen Sic
&rant Ein anderev Finschen Geigenheirner 1"

" Vergiiiigen!" replied the pretty Lieschen, our land-
lady's daughter, placing another flask on the table. "Schrneckt
do: I Nicht trahr 1"
" Himmlisch Well, and how did you get on, after Ains-
worth entered upon his fiery task I"
" Why, the fact is, after that we turned to, and made our-
selves as comfortable as possible. Lever told capital stories
—Cruikabank brewed capital punch ;—as for Jenkins, we
despatched him to the steward's room to wash the dishes and
clean our boots, for fear of his dragging our conversation into
his next book. The motion of the vessel, which pursued i•s
way steadily through the air, became very pleasant, after a
little, and we were as merry as possible. I soon became very
drowsy. Perhaps it might be the rarefied air that overcame
me, although 1 believe we took no great altitude at first
either ; or perhaps it might be the punch, or both ; but I
believe I fell asleep about eleven, singing the chorus of ' We
tly by night,' which Henson led off with great taste and no
small execution."

" I dare say your airial chant was regarded as the music
of the spheres by any gentleman of a poetical turn who may
have heard you."
" Very possibly. But if you're done with that bottle ?
Thank you 1" Duggins refreshed himself with a potent pull
at theGeisenheimer, and continued.

" When day dawned we found ourselves skimming over
the blue waters of the Mediterranean sea. The prospect
was divine. To the east, on the very verge of the horizon,
Malta appeared like a black speck against the brilliant orange
hue which the rising sun sent forth as the precursor of his
coming. To the west lay the Sierras of Spain, still wrapped
in the fog and gloom of night; whilst Ow snowy tops of the
Atlas range, towards which we were approaching, shone with
that rosy light, which the denizen of the Alps beholds, ere,
girding himself for the pursuit of the chamois, he prefers his
prayer from the lowly valley to the blessed saint, whose star
rests like a halo upon the Jungfrau'suntrodden summit !"

" That's very pretty, Huggins," said I, with a slight yawn,
" but we hau'n't time for that sort of thing just now ; so
pray keep to facts, will you, and we'll imagine the poetry."
" Having satiated my curiosity with a view of the external
landscape, I next directed my attention to my fellow-voyagers.
Lever lay sound asleep with his legs stretching across the
table. A purple velvet nightcap and gold tassel gracefully
concealed his right eye; and the butt end of a cigar, with
about an inch of grey ashes, was firmly fixed between his
lips. The head of Cruikshank lay upon the table, under
shelter of his right arm. Upon the thumb-nail of his left
hand, which grasped an empty tumbler, I observed a sketch
of myself. It was wretchedly drawn, and therefore, before
awakening him, I took an opportunity of erasing it. At the
extreme end of the car sat Henson, wrapped in a huge pilot
coat, his vigilant clear eye dilated with the consciousness of
superior genius, and the tiller ropes noosed around his arm.
" Good morning, Master Huggins !" said he. " You've
slept well, considering the precious row we had on board last
night."
" Gracious heavens !" said I, " did anything go wrong with

the machinery

" Shiver my vanes! no," replied Henson ; " we've had a
glorious run of it. Light airs and catspaws from the north-
west by north, since two bells. Only, d'ye see, there was
something like a mutiny on board. Our stoker was going to
strike work, because we refused him an allowance of grog ;
but I beat all hands to quarters, and we soon made hint belay
his jaw. lie's quiet enough now, I reckon."

"A horrid suspicion seized me. Could they have pitched
Ainsworth overboard? I believe the thought was legibly
grub
written on my countenance, for Henson gave a short
laugh, and continued— _

" Why, no—we didn't do that exactly, for we couldn't
spare him ; but we shut him up in the boiler, and told him.
that if he didn't work there like a good 'un till seven bells,
lie had very little chance of ever tagting half-and-half again.
He roared a good deal for the first half-watch, and wouldn't

poke the fire, bnt I tinted in a jet of steam upon him, and I
that settled the business. He does his work now as handy
as if he had been bred to it. Boiler, ahoy !"
" Boiler it is, air !" replied a faint voice from the interior.
" Chuck on another half hundred-weight of coke, will you,
and then you can have a mouthful of fresh air!"
" A sudden scrambling and scratching in the bowels of the
copper cone evinced the increased activity of its occupant.
1 " Ha! Duggins, my hearty, how are you?" said Lever,
awaking. " Henson, my trump, how do you find yourself
Where the deuce may we be now ? over the Mediterranean,
eh ? Well, that's some fun! That's Algiers, I suppose, ill
the distance,—suppose we stoop down and take it from the
French ? Hallo! Cruikshank, my buck ! waken up, will
you, and give us a bottle of soda-water with a bottom of
brandy in it."

" Cruikshank did as he was desired, and Lever rattled on—
" Devilish good stuff this, after a hard night's swizzling !
Duggias, do you think you could knock off a spatch-cock, or
a kidney with a slight sprinkling of cayenne? Try it—that's
a good fellow. I say, Henson,—what the deuce have you
made of Ainsworth ? I could hardly get a wink of sleep for
his confounded bellowing in the boiler."
" I dare say, Master Charley," said Cruikshanlc, a little
offended at the cavalier manner in which Lever seemed dis-
posed to treat his friend ; " I dare say you'd be rather apt to
bellow yourself, if you were shut in there without a drop of
anything to wet your whistle. He hadn't six stiff tumblers
and a snooze after them to keep him fresh."
" Which you had, at the very least, friend George," re-
torted Lever. " But, hang it, after all, it's not right to
muzzle the fax that treads out the coke, eh? I say, Henson,
do you think it would be safe to let the poor devil out for an
hour or so? We can easily shove him in again, you know,
when he's wanted."
" Henson swept the horison with his telescope, noted down
some figures on a scrap of paper, and then appeared absorbed
in calculation.
" By the quadrant less seven," he said, after a pause. " I
think he may come out now. There's no chance of a squall
on this side the equator, and there's fuel enough in the fur-
nice to keep us going as far as the mountains of the Moon.
Tumble out, my kiddy !" and he drew hack the bolt.
" Poor Ainsworth ! When he entered the Aerial he was
in ripe and ruddy condition, plump as a Dunstable lark, and
full of fun and frolic. Now, he crawled out from his den, a
spectral emaciated figure ; his long hair, matted with ashes
and sweat, hung around his cheeks like a bunch of tallow
dips tied together by the wicks ; his face was streaked with a
fancy ochre formed by the combination of steam and cinders;
and his elegant apparel, which might formerly have electri-
fied Piccadilly, was now woefully soiled, and in some places
burned into patches. His first action was to clutch convul-
sively at a jug of beer which he drained to the very dregs.
He then threw himself upon a sofa and scowled moodily
around.
" Ainsworth, my fine fellow !" said Lever, by way of
soothing him, " you've had a long spell of it, and we all feel
devilishly obliged. Take a drop more beer. Cruikshank,
look sharp, wilt, and handle the tap."
" William Harrison glared wildly at him. He said nothing,
however, hut took the beer.
" When I was a child," said I, cheerfully, hoping to allay
the irritation of my friend, "quite a little child, you know—
n thing full of life and joy—l remember to have tumbled, on
a rainy day, over a heap of ashes, and to have been very
much in the same plight with yourself. Would you like to
wash your face, my dear fellow ?"
" Driz my kemesa !" said Ainsworth, savagely. " Give
us none of your gammon, Master Duggins, for I won't stand

no nonsense."
" Quite right." said Lever ; "devilish spirited answer. I
say, Duggina, where's that spatch-cock you promised to
make about an hour ago ? Look sharp, will you ? Why,
confound it, man, are you to sit there all day with your hands
in your pockets, doing nothing? Joint-stock work, you
know—division of labour, eh ? That's it. Ladle away with
the cayenne. Cruikahank, I'll thank you for another glass
of soda and cogniac ; (a light for my cigar, Jenkins!) and
then squeeze a lemon or two into that bowl,—a glass of weak
rum-punch will do us no harm, eh, Henson ? and I've a
notion we shall find it confoundedly hot in crossing the great
Zahara desert. Ainsworth, my good fellow, 'pon my soul
you'd better dip your head in that bucket. You'd improve
your appearance vastly.—Eh ! what was that ?—a cannon-
shot ? By George ! we're above Algiers ; and these con-
founded French are firing at us!"
" Sure enough a cannon-ball came whistling up within
three yards of the larboard sail, and reaching its upmost
_point of elevation, about a hundred feet above us, turned in
the air, and fell straight down with immense velocity to the
earth. It went crash into a minaret.
" There's a muezzin done for !" cried Lever, who had been
staring down through a telescope.
" Henson grew pale.
" It' they hit the engine," said he, " or even shiver the
canvass, it's all up with us. Blast them ! there's another
fellow below pointing a gun !"
" Short sixes, I perceive," said Lever. " Hand me that
rifle, will you ?—bang l—there goes the artilleryman on the
rampart, tumbling over like a dolphin with a hole through
his jacket; and I guess, by this time we're pretty well out
of their range."
" And so it proved. Five more guns were tired at us from
the batteries of Algiers ; but the shot, as Lever predicted,
fell short of the mark, and no injury ensued. I must con-
fess, however, that I felt rather nervous until the roar of
the artillery was silenced."

VARIETIES.

PEASANTS osi POOR SPAIN.—The number of spanish
peasants who come over the mountains here from Aragon
add very much to the enjoyment of the place. Their dress,
particularly that of the men, is more picteresque than any
fever saw, though I thought none could be more beautiful
than that of the Catalonians we saw in the valley of Aran.
These wear a high conical hat, with a broad brim, embrodered
and tasseled; a coat of green velvet, witd richly embroidered
collar and breast ; a waistcoat of brocaded satin, a red or
sometimes blue silk scarf tied round the waist, brown striped
callottes, garters embroidered in gold, blue stockings, and
sandals. Some have a large brown cloak hanging over one
shoulder, which does not conceal their brilliant attire, and
they hold it with such a graceful and regal air, that one can-
not imagine those majestic and most independent looking
beings can be peasants.—Lady Challerton's Excursions
into Spain.
SKETCH OF A MANCHESTER WAREHOUSE.—The old-
established firm of Anthony Chuzzlewit and Son, Manches-
ter, warehousemen, and so forth, had its place of business in
a ♦ery narrow street, somewhere behind the post-office ;
where every house was in the brightest summer morning
very gloomy ; and where light porters watered the pavement,
each before his own employer's premises, in fantastic pat-
terns, in the dog days ; and where spruce gentlemen with
their hands in the pockets of symmetrical trousers, were
always to be seen in warm weather contemplating their
undeniable boots in dusty warehouse doorways, which ap-
peared to be the hardest work they did, except now and then
carrying pens behind their ears. A dim, dirty, smoky, tum-
ble-down, rotten old house it was, as anybody would desire
to see; but there the firm of Anthony Chuzzlewit and Son
transacted all their business and their pleasure too, such as
it was ; for neither the young man nor the old had any other
residence, or any care or thought beyond its narrow limits.—
Martin Chuzzlewit.

AN OLD THIEF'S TRRASURI.—For some weeks past the
guardians of the ditTerent markets of the Quartier des Inno-
cens had remarked the constant presence of a woman named
Lecointre, whose manners and language excited their suspi-
cion. They accordingly resolved to watch her narrowly, and
detect her if they could in some of the acts of which they sus-
pected her to be guilty. They had not long to wait before
they discovered her in the act of committing a robbery of
money and jewellery. When she was taken before the com-
missioner of police she confessed that she had several times
been convicted, and that she was still under surveillance,
which prevented her from going to Paris. Having traced out
her retreat they proceeded to search the premises, but found
nothing, until it occurred to the commissioner to examine
the bed ; upon which the woman cried out—" Don't touch
my bed ; there is nothing suspicious there ; but you have no
right to seize anybody's bed. The law respects the bed of
the poor." The commissioner, however, told her she was
mistaken, and continued the search ; the result of which was,
that tkey discovered the end of a stove-pipe under the mat-
tress, containing the produce of a great many robberies com-
mitted by this woman. Amongst the property were three
gold watches, five valuable brooches, a quantity of rings, ear-
rings, necklaces, and other articles of jewellery, besides a sum
of about 3000 f. in gold and silver monies. On being asked
to explain how she came into possession of. property so little
according with the wretchedness of the room, she invented
an improbable tale about a man whom she had known in her
youth having given it to her. The money she pretended to
have earned by her labour ; but neither of these improbable
stories being believed she was sent to prison, and the property
taken possession of by the proper authorities.—Paris paper.
THE WAITER.—He attributes all virtues to everybody,
provided they are civil and liberal ; and of the existence of
some vices he hat no notion. Gluttony, for instance, with
him, is not only inconceivable, but looks very like a virtue.
Ile sees in it only so many more " beefs," and the generous
scorn of the hill. As to wine, or almost any other liquor, it
is out of your power to astonish him with the quantity you
call for. His " Yes, sir," is as swift, indifferent, and official
at the fifth bottle as at the first. Reform, and other public
events, he looks upon purely as things in the newspapers,
and the newspaper as a thing taken in at taverns for gentle-
men to read. His own reading is confined to "accidents
and offences," and the advertisements for butlers, which
latter he peruses with an admiring fear, not choosing to give
up a " certainty." When young, he was always in a hurry,
and exasperated his mistress by running against other waiters,
end breaking the " neguses." As he gets older he learns to
unite swiftness with caution ; declines wasting his breath on
immediate answers to calls ; and knows, with a slight turn of
his face and elevation of his voice, into what precise corner
of the room to pitch his " Coming sir." It you told him
that in Shakepeare's time waiters said, " Anon, anon," he
would he astonished at the repetition of the same word in
one answer, and at the use of three words instead of two, and
he would justly infer that London could not have been so
large, nor the chop-houses so busy in those days. He would
drop ono of the two syllables of his " Yes, sir," if he could ;
but business and civility will not allow it, and, therefore, he
does what be can by running them together in the swift
sufficiency of his " Yezzir." " Thomas!" " Yezzir." "Is
my steak coming?" " Yezzir." " And the pint of port ?"
" Yezzir." " You'll not forget the postman i" " Yezzir."
For, in the habit of his acquiescence, Thomas not seldom
says " Yes, sir," for " No, sir," the habit itself rendering
him intelligible.—Leigh Hunt.

ENGLISH LITERARY CUARACTERSI.—Lady Blessington
is the widow of an earl, with an allowance of £l,OOO a year,
and, though she receives no ladies, she is visited by a circle
of men of rank and political eminence, who would, probably,
know little of her as simply the authoress of the works that
bear her name. Lady Stepney and Lady Charlotte Bury are
also women of rank, and the former gives very tine parties,
that certainly would not be drawn together by her mere lit-
erary fame over a cup of tea at the east end. Mr. Bulwer
comes of a very aristocratic family, is a member of parliament,
and has £1,200 a year for his private fortune, besides being
an elegant of the first water. Disraeli has married a very
rich and very fashionable widow, and in his beautiful mansion
in Park-lane, cares very little for any consequence given to
him as the author of " Vivian Grey." Lady Chatterton's
position is rather damaged than bettered by weak-tea scrib-
blings ; and the Hon. John Wilson Croker is a political
whipper-in, and inherits some of the tainted gold of his
friend, the dissolute Marquis of Hertford. Lady Morgan's
husband was knighted in a frolic by the lord-lieutenant of
Ireland, though we are not sure that Sir Charles does not
diminish somewhat the lustre of her very brilliant ladyship.
Lady Emeline Stuart Wortley's productions are the pungent
, mortification of her titled husband, and the naval authors
find in literature, as a social influence, neither an advantage
nor a detriment. Christopher North is a professor of moral
philosophy, and Lockhart married the daughter of Walter
Scott, and these are circumstances to which they owe some
of the advantages to their positon. These are most of those
among the literary notabilities whose standing in society is
mainly based on other than literary foundations. But there
is a large class merely distineuished as literary men, whose
social consequence is, in all its hearings, little understood
in this country. Thomas Moore, Mr. Wordsworth, Mr.
Proctor (Barry Cornwall), Thomas Hood, Mr. Ainsworth,
and some others, arc frequently guests at the tables of the
nobility and aristocratic gentry of England. But, at these
same tables, Mrs. Moore, Mrs. Wordsworth, Mrs. Proctor,
Mrs. Hood, and Mrs. Ainsworth are never seen and seldom
asked for or thoutht of. The author and his wife are not
one in the code of fashion ; but this humiliatiug distinction,
which at the first blast seems, as Dogberry says, " very tol-
erable and not to be endured," is, upon reflection, so niucli
a convenience to authors, that it is doubtful whether the habit
of inviting them singly did not grow from their own sugges-
tion and practice,—Brother Jonathan, edited by N. P.ll dhe.

SPORTING INTELLIGENCE.

EPSOM RACES.—TuRsnAT

The CRAVEN STAKES of 10 soya each, for three-year-olds,
Gat Blb ; four, Bst 10lb ; five, 9st 41b ; six and aged, 9st 101 b.
Craven course. 10 subs.
Lord G. Bentinck's Discord, 6 yr,
Lord Chesterfield's Knight of the Whistle, 5 yrs .. 2
The SHIRLEY STAKES of 25 sovs each, for three-year-olds
One mile. 5 subs
Lord Stradbroke's Evenus .........
Mr. Smith's Spiteful
Lord Exeter's Wee Pet
The WOODCOTE STAKES of 15 sous each, with 30 added, for
two-year-olds. T.Y.C. 7 subs.
Lord Albemarle's Delapre
(Whitehouse) 1
Sir G. Heathcote's ch f by Velocipede
Captain Daintree's f by Liverpool 3
Lord Exeter's f by Beiram
Mr. Hewitt's Midnight Star 5
•
Colonel Wyndham's c by Liverpool
The MANOR PLATE of £5O. Heats, two miles.
General Sharpe's Lara, 5 yrs
Mr. Cowley's Adrian, aged..
Mr. Booth's Donnybrook, 3 yrs
Mr. Kimberley's Viola, 5 yrs 0 4 d

(Nat) 1