AMUSING CHRONICLE, CHRONICLE,

A Weekly Repository for

MISCELLANEOUS LITERATURE.

No. XXI, Price 4d.) Feb. 8, 1817.

(Vol. II.

An out-line Print of Mrss MACALPINE, as ARIEL, accompanies this number.

The lines on "MASQUERADE" are mislaid. Indisposition has pre vented its being noticed earlier.

THE NARRATOR, No. XVII.

DISSERTATIONS

On Hobby-horsical Propensities,

CONTINUED.

The Eolussian Hobby.

"There is a humour in this man to turn aside propriety, and force Sir Gravity to forget himself."

B. and F.

Mr. Titus Twangdillo, a Cambrian philosopher, having met with misfortunes among his native mountains, resolved with all speed to remove his effects and his family to another quarter of the Island; to that end he crossed the Severn, and pitched his tents of repose within the vicinity of SevenDials, once the neighbourhood of princes. The hard rubs of fortune bring with them a healing balsam, when they instruct us to escape from future evils: this was happily the case with Mr. Twangdillo, for living soberly within the

Printed by T. Kaygill, 36, Frith-Street, Soho.

circle of his income, he recovered his embarrasments, and bid defiance to the efforts of the law, and the cruelties of care. To beguile, in a pleasant way, the progress of time, our philosopher once more embraced his favourite propensity, designated by him, "The Aeolussian Study," or the high fancy for collecting old fiddles, of which he had at one time in his possession, not less than one hundred and fifty. Although he knew no more of the divine science than an Hercynian bear doth of algebra, for all this, Mr. Twang found an exquisite gratification from the harmony produced by the north-wind on a tempestuous day, while playing on the strings of the favourites of his fancy: his method was to screw up the chords to a certain pitch, and then to dispose his fiddles in order, peculiar to himself, when throwing open all the windows of his chamber, to admit his friend' Eolus, Mr. Twangdillo retiring to a certain quarter of his fidlery, and drawing the bow over the viol on his arm, a sympathy of sounds took place, producing a soft and delectable unum. Thus, by the help of the north-wind and his own exertions, Mr. Twangdillo pursued the amusement so long known to be his hobby.

The late Mr. Wechel, admired for his great knowledge in the harmonic art, one windy day, paid a visit to this chamber of one hundred and fifty fiddles, and having every thing prepared for his entertainment, took his seat, and began to court the symptomatic sounds he had heard so much about among the sons of Apollo; it was his own invaluable instrument that received the probationary touch, when to the astonishment of that gentleman, his discriminating ear led him to notice the vibrations of a single croud, that wore the marks of many ages, when, with permission of the owner, he took the fiddle from the peg, examined its construction, and with a significant smile returned it to its station. At this instant, Mrs. Twangdillo entered the chamber, and placing her hands upon her sides, told her husband that he paid more attention to his fiddles than to his family, that his was ridiculous fancy, and would never turn him out, a solitary shilling; having thus discharged her spleen, she went off like a cracker, with a fiery hiss, and a loud bounce. The good-natured modest man, like Jerry in the farce, blushed at the words of the vixen, and turned once more to his hobby, which like the magnetic power that moves the nautical needle, drew him from reflection, and soothed his state of uxorious servility: Mr. Wechel saw the chagrin, took his leave for the present, and promised, with permissi

on of the philosopher, to return the next day, and bring with him a valuable friend to the Muses. This Mr. Wechel faithfully fulfilled, and they were together introduced to the Aeolussian mysteries. In the midst of these vibrations, which fully established the doctrine of the sympathy of sounds, or the unison of agreeable natural qualities, Mr. Wechel took down the instrument that had so attached his attention the day before, and put it into the hands of the Right Honourable the Earl of Uxbridge, who having examined it with his usual perspicuity, pronounced it to be a perfect Cremona. Mr. Twangdillo now learning the quality of his new visitor, begged his Lordship to accept the treasure, and he should think himself highly honoured by his condescention. At this instant, Mrs. Twangdillo, whose ears were those of the Lynx, exhibited her red face at the door, which she had opened but a little way, to shew her disapprobation of the gift, and with a portentous frown, or rather, as Milton has it

"Grinning horribly a ghastly smile,"

she closed the aperture of the chamber.

The Earl received the Cremona, and with his wonted liberality, gave the philosopher a draft on his banker for one hundred and fifty guineas; Mrs. Twangdillo looked in and smiled for the first time within the last circle of the four seasons. Mr. Wechel and his Lordship took their leaves, highly gratified with their discovery, and the hobby of the modest and humble Mr. Titus Twangdillo.

The Baculum Hobby.

The eccentric Mr. Harlow, of Snow Hill, had in his pos session as many walking-sticks as there are days in the year, and for every stick he had a different name. Not a quarter of the world where commerce had furled her sails, but had contributed to his hobby; his staff or baculus for his Majesty's birth day, was of heart of oak, surmounted with the portrait of his sovereign, in weight, about ten ounces of sterling silver; with this, he was sure to be seen on that anniversary, parading the streets, like a parish beadle before the children of a charitable institution.

He had one of ebony for the day Mr. Pitt made his exit; and another of brass for the birth-day of his friend the Lord