The native American., 1838-03-10
Ns From the Metropolitan Magazine.
EPHEMERA; OR ETCHINGS FROM LIFE
No. Ill.
(Continned from our last number.)

], sir, aid / don'tlike it,. Now this, Ithought
at least apocryphal, if not a ib for Bctsey is All
arrant ilirt in her heart. James, however,
she continued, was up early, and before he
tidyesl himself took care to clean your boots,
and brush your clothes. don't expect we shall
see any more Of my gentleman this blessed day;
for the French lady up stairs is just returned
without stitch to her back, except what's torn
to tatters-she had got two places, sir, in Fleet
street, that cost her husband, she says, six
guineas; thought can't believe it: for where
could the poor French creeturs get it? but in
trying to get them through Temple Bar, the
crowd was SO great and so rude, that she
lost her shoes off her feet, and in the confusion
she lost the poor little count too--and suppose,
the places into the bargain II
Such were the sounds that met my ear in
coming down to breakfast one well-remembered
yellow morning last month. The weather had
broken up, and fog mist, clammy damps, and
q lurid atmosphere, indicated that none Of the
usual concomitants Of Lord Mayors installa-
tion into Office would be wanting. In fact, the
festival promised its full share of the accustom-
ed severity Of the season. Though no rain fell,
nor did there appear any immediate probability
Of q shower, every thing exposed to the air
was beaded in pendant drops with damp, and
even within, the condensed fog ran in rivuIets
streaming down the windows as if the morning
was already in tears through anticipation Of gene
raj disappointment.
What can be the reason, thought to N.Y.
SELF that this day Of all days in the year is sure
to be wet? There seems to be spell about it.
Yet, what's that to me?-Im comfortable enough
by this good fre;' and incontinently | seized
the poker. and went to work, hardly conscious
what did, till the fender was full Of burning
cinders and my eyes full Of ashes. I'm very
snug here continued |, poking away at the
CRATE with the fdgetty vehemence Of man
who wishes to. persuade himself he is what he
knows he is not i shall not stir out till the
hubbub's over. will write. and employ my
self profitably till dinner, and then read the
account of it in all the evening papers, and just
as well-why not? They write their criticisms
on new plays and fresh performers some days
or hours before they ever appear. Sad dogs!
and vet they dictate to the town! Why should'n nt
they, if we pay them for it, With my eyes
fixed on the crate. went on musing, till the
black flakes, waving on the bars, and which
the superstitious in the north assure you poItend
strangers visits, became Of various colors, and
at length assumed the hrmorial bearings of the
different corporations of London The fire
blazing now brighter, d, mass Of fairy figures
appeared, and procession in miniature made
ing symbols-knights in steel and brazen ar
mor nor did awake from the agreeable reve-
rie, till saw the Lord Mayor of Lliput de-
scend from his tiny gingerbread coach, and step
into Childe's banking house at Temple bar.
This was too gross. oh, ho,' said |; !. Queen
Nab, see, hath been with YOU so wheel
ed round my chair to the breakfast table.
A round Of toast disappeared, an egg followed
and washing all down with large cup Of cof-
fee, jumped up, congIatnlating myself on my
comfortable determination to remain at home,
walked about the room, but could not for the
life of me prevent myself from humming, by
snatches, odd lines Of God save the Queen.
This is the DEVIL said |, and began an air from
Fra Diavolo,' which, however, soon died away
into the tiresome old crotchets Of the national
anthem. This is all very silly said to my
self; but it's not wonderful either, for there's
the Savoyard boy, with an organ, under tht
window, and the Darmstadt brass band up the
street, all grinding away at the same tune.
Took turn to the window--the cold fog was
slowly yielding to the influence of the westerly
wind, as would fain magine--it might be the
suns influence for what l cared. 1T would Ger
tainIy rain, and spoil all their sport, and then
took Sterne down from the book case. 'Ay,
said /, Sterne is the author! His cratic mus,
can always cntangle and fix the wandering i'm
agnation.
In five minutes, or less, the door was hurriedly
opened. s.
What! Lord Mayors day, and keep with
in doors, when SO many hundreds have travelle,
hundreds of miles to see the sight No, mol
come. The days as fine can be expected
for the season-on with your boots,' said livel,
Ned, my country cousin and let US see what
to be seen as well as others
What's to be seeni' said I, listessly turning
over another leaf of Tristram Shandy; have
not seen Lord Mayors days every year since
came to town? Don't | know the old Lore
Mayor and the new?-quiet, plain people
enough, when out Of their official feathers-it'
only the trappings that make an alderman
donkey. then he brays himself into senator
optat Ephippia bos,' till he is detected by NJ
bungling in a job, and the patriot is kicked ou
Of the house with the contempt OF both w Whlg
and Tories af y.
Hang the jobs and the patriots It's tn
Queen--shes the inducement upon this occa
sion. Leave off sermonisng--I know your
loyal, and must be gratifed to witness the specta