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The Night Cab,


Pope Joan,

by R. B. Peake


The Haunted Mine,

The Revenge, by E. V. Rippingille,


Hours in Hindostan,

The Adjutant,


The Tank,

The Snake-Charmer,


A Suttee,


A Blue-Jacket's Adventure,


A Night well spent, :

The Microscope,

Cure for the Ague,

'The Waabee Arabs,

$ by H. R. Addison, 266
The Vision of Charles the Twelfth,
The Boar Hunt,

A Striking Incident,

Sudden Fear,

Placing a Nawab on the Musnud,

A Traitor's Doom,

Malay Vengeance,

Tiger Hunt, :


Netley Abbey,

Thy Thomas Ingoldsby.


The Norfolk Tragedy. by Thomas Ingoldsby,


Fidelity and Sagacity of a Dog,


The Village Inn, by Martingale,


My Honey-moon, by the author of “ The Comic English Gra



Hymn to the Virgin, by G. Cockburn Hyde,


Life and Songs of Anacreon, edited by Barney Brallaghan, 246, 452

The Fiddler of Marseilles,


The Dear-Slayer, by Albany Poyntz, ..

Minor Bodkin's Cure for Conceií, by Phelim O'Toole,


The Great Auctioneer, by John Jones, .


Familiar Epistles from an Elderly Gentleman on Hallipay,


The late Dr. Maginn, .


Hunting John Dory, by George Soane,


The Little Horse, an Équestrian Epigram,


In Praise of Porter, .


To **** *****

A Campaign with the Christinos, by Charles F. Fynes-Clinton,' 388, 484

The Two Gate-keepers,

The Youth's Death, by Mrs. Howitt,


Her First Visit Afloat-a Dialogue on the Deck, by the author of

“ The Naval Sketch Book,"


A Monumental Pic-nic,,


Ballad Literature of Ancient Greece, Chow Coole Tavlor LI.

cient Greece, by W. Cooke Taylor, LL.D.,

Leaves of Legendary Lore,


Paddy Carroll, the Piper, by Bryan O'Halloran,


A Junior Barrister, .


The Persian Spy, by the author of « The Kuzzilbash," '


The Mask of Mischief,


A Night in the Adriatic, by Mrs. Romer,


The Last O'Rourke,


Lines on Lord Vivian's Death, by Miss Pox,


Sir Archibald ! ! a Winter's Tale, by Dalton,


The Injured Individual,


Life in Hanover, by Dudley Costello,

The Harvest Home, by Paul Pindar,






On Friday morning we started from Philadelphia, by railroad, for Baltimore. It is a curious fact enough, that half the routes that are travelled in America are either temporary or unfinished, -one reason, among several, for the multitudinous accidents which befall wayfarers. At the very outset of our journey, and within scarce a mile of Philadelphia, we crossed the Schuylkill, over a bridge, one of the principal piers of which is yet incomplete, and the whole building (a covered wooden one, of handsome dimensions) filled with workmen, yet occupied about its construction. But the Americans are impetuous in the way of improvement, and have all the impatience of children about the trying of a new thing, often greatly retarding their own progress by hurrying unduly the completion of their works, or using them in a perilous state of incompleteness. Our road lay for a considerable length of time through flat low meadows that skirt the Delaware, which at this season of the year, covered with snow, and bare of vegetation, presented a most dreary aspect, we passed through Wilmington (Maryland), and crossed a small stream called the Brandywine, the scenery along the banks of which is very beautiful. For its historical associations I refer the reader to the life of Washington. I cannot say that the aspect of the town of Wilmington, as viewed from the railroad cars, presented any very exquisite points of beauty; I shall therefore indulge in a few observations upon these same railroad cars just here.

And first, I cannot but think that it would be infinitely more consonant with comfort, convenience, and common sense, if persons obliged to travel during the intense cold of an American winter in the northern states) were to clothe themselves according to the exigency of the weather, and so do away with the present deleterious custom of warming close and crowded carriages with sheet-iron stoves, heated with anthracite coal. No words can describe the foulness of the atmosphere, thus robbed of all vitality by the vicious properties of that dreadful combustible, and tainted besides with the poison emitted at every respiration from so many pairs of human lungs. These are facts which the merest tyro in human physiological science knows, and the utter disregard of which on the part of the Americans renders them the amazement of every traveller from countries where the preservation of health is considered worth the care of a rational creature. I once travelled to Harrisburg in a railroad car, fitted up to carry sixty-four persons, in the midst of which glowed a large stove. The trip was certainly a delectable one. Nor is there any remedy for this: an attempt to open a window is met by an universal scowl and shudder; and indeed it is but incurring the risk of one's death of cold, instead of one's death of heat. The windows, in fact, form the walls on each


side of the carriage, which looks like a long'green-house upon wheels; the seats, which contain each two persons, (a pretty tight fit too,) are placed down the whole length of the vehicle, one behind the other, leaving a species of aisle in the middle for the uneasy (a large portion of the travelling community here) to fidget up and down, for the tobacco-chewers to spit in, and for a whole tribe of little itinerant fruit and cake-sellers to rush through, distributing their wares at every place where the cars stop. Of course nobody can well sit immediately in the opening of a window when the thermometer is twelve degrees below zero; yet this, or suffocation in foul air, is the only alternative. I generally prefer being half frozen to death to the latter mode of martyrdom.

Attached to the Baltimore cars was a species of separate apartment for women. It was of comfortable dimensions, and without a stove; and here I betook myself with my children, escaping from the pestilential atmosphere of the other car, and performing our journey with ease enough. My only trial here was one which I have to encounter in whatever direction I travel in America, and which, though apparently a trivial matter in itself, has caused me infinite trouble, and no little compassion for the rising generation of the United States—I allude to the ignorant and fatal practice of the women of stuffing their children from morning till night with every species of trash which comes to hand. Whether this is a custom which they pursue at home as well as abroad, of course I cannot tell; but, travelling, it appears to be universal; and I have often felt as if I must lay myself open to the charge of impertinent interference, and remonstrate against the cruelty and folly of such proceedings. As surely as you meet an American woman travelling with a child, there is a basket or a bundle in their society well filled with greasy cakes, sugar-plums, apples, peppermintdrops, &c., &c. The little wayfarer generally makes its appearance with both fists furnished, and a mouth full of such matter, and as soon as this is despatched begins clamouring for more. Between each supply the child, of course, becomes more uneasy, the torments of a sick stomach being added to the irksome confinement of a coach or cabin; and by the end of the day screams of distress and ill-temper, engendered by nausea, flatulency, and every species of evil naturally resulting from such a day's diet, proclaim the mistake of the half-distracted mother, whose line of conduct was dictated by the laudable desire of keeping her child quiet. I once took the liberty of asking a young woman who was travelling in the same car with me, and stuffing her child incessantly with heavy cakes, which she also attempted to make mine eat, her reason for this system, she replied, it was to keep her baby good.' I looked at her own sallow cheeks and rickety teeth, and could not forbear suggesting to her how much she was injuring her poor child's health. She stared in astonishment, and pursued the process, no doubt wondering what I meant, and how I could be so cruel as not to allow pound-cake to my child. Indeed, as may easily be supposed, it becomes a matter of no little difficulty to enforce my own rigid discipline in the midst of the various offers of dainties which tempt my poor little girl at every turn; but I persevere, nevertheless, and am not seldom rewarded by the admiration which her appearance of health and strength excites wherever she goes.

I remember being excessively amused at the woful condition of an unfortunate gentleman on board one of the Philadelphia boats, whose

sickly-looking wise, exhausted with her vain attempts to quiet three sickly-looking children, had in despair given them into his charge. The miserable man furnished each of them with a lump of cake, and, during the temporary lull caused by this diversion, took occasion to make acquaintance with my child, to whom he tendered the same indulgence. Upon my refusing it for her, he exclaimed in astonishment,

Why, madam, don't you allow the little girl cake?' • No, sir.' • What does she eat, pray?' (as if people lived upon cake generally). *Bread and milk, and bread and meal! • What! no butter ? no tea or coffee ?

None whatever.' “Ah!' sighed the poor man, as the chorus of woe arose again from his own progeny, the cake having disappeared down their throats. 'I suppose that's why she looks so healthy.'

I supposed so, too, but did not inquire whether the gentleman extended his inference. All this may appear puerile, though I have little fear of those condemning it as such who have children of their own, and know the importance of both quantity and quality in this matter. I appeal, too, from those who consider this subject as trifling to the beauty, vigour, and activity of the children in my own country; results which are acknowledged with admiration by all foreigners who visit England, and are derived more from the careful system of physical education there pursued than from any other cause whatsoever. In this, diet forms a most important consideration, the neglect of which is to insure at once loss of health, and all the beauty that belongs to a healthy stomach, teeth, breath, and complexion.

We pursued our way from Wilmington to Havre de Grace on the railroad, and crossed one or two inlets from the Chesapeake, of consi. derable width, upon bridges of a most perilous construction, and which, indeed, have given way once or twice in various parts already. They consist merely of wooden piles driven into the water, across which the iron rails are laid, only just raising the cars above the level of the water. To traverse with an immense train, at full steam-speed, one of these creeks, nearly a mile in width, is far from agreeable, let one be never so little nervous, and it was with infinite cordiality each time that I greeted the first bush that hung over the water, indicating our approach to terra firma. At Havre de Grace we crossed the Susquehanna in a steam-boat, which cut its way through the ice an inch in thickness with marvellous ease and swiftness, and landed us on the other side, where we again entered the railroad cars to pursue our road.

It is now only five years since I undertook this same journey from Baltimore to Philadelphia, at the same inclement season of the year. We travelled over a dreary and horrible coach-road for three days, sleeping two nights on the way. We were once in such imminent peril of being overturned that ropes were fastened to the top of the carriage, by which men who ran on each side of it preserved its equi. librium. We crossed the Susquehanna at night, in an open boat, at infinite risk of being jammed to pieces by the floating masses of ice. which were sweeping down the river, and over which the oars of our rowers scraped with a most ominous sound. Only five years ago! and now the same journey is performed with ease between breakfast and dinner-time, and the passage of the Susquehanna, even though

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