exquisite and perfect confusion, the sharp, shrill, continual notes of two undeafened attendants of the softer sex, engaged in an interminable duet, of which the first part says, "What a naughty boy!" and the second, "You little darling!" Yes, and now, audibly in the midst of the wild dissonance and uproar, I can catch the mild, pleasing, affectionate twang of the maternal voice the fond accents of my landlady herself, like the sea-music of the note of Mother Carey calling to her pretty chickens in the storm. What does she say? 'Ah, my sweet babes, so you are all merry-making together; I thought, as I came up stairs, I could hear your voices!" Dear young middle-aged lady! It was only a mother-and a fond one, too-who could have said that. She could just hear her cherubs fluttering their tiny wings, as she came up! What fine ears a mother's heart has! Smash-crash! That was a sound of glass. Master Tom, the top-spinner, has had a mull; and the top itself has flown through a large pane into the street, falling with destructive force upon the large family-pie which the baker, board on head, was just bringing to the door. And now, what a shout lifts up the roof of the house! what peals of ecstasy celebrate the exploit! But the soft voice of my landlady is not quite drowned either "My darling boy," it says, "what charming spirits you have! but don't break the windows, in case the draught should give you cold." If Young England in general should, in the slightest degree, resemble my landlady's lot in particular, why then I wish the Prince of Wales joy of his future subjects. They will be sure to make a noise in the world; and whoever may be the minister that shall have their "voices" in his favour, he will be stunned-that's all ! |