obedience to the wish of the Home Secretary,
to support a petition that the honourable
House would reconsider its assent to the
establishment of Smithfield in Copenhagen
Fields, an assent to which the Government
was morally, but now unwillingly,
pledged. A brief discussion arose upon this
topic, from which it appeared that
Copenhagen Fields is a place situated among villa
residences near a handsome square, and by
no means out of London; that the Corporation
very prudently abstained, therefore, from
giving notice of its intention to remove the
market thither, lest the price of land should
be raised, and opposition be raised also before
the authorities in Downing Street, whose
assent to the whole scheme was made essential
by an Act of Parliament.

An honourable member had the audacity
to give a strange turn indeed to this astute
conduct of the Court, by telling them that
they had entrapped the Home Secretary into
a consent. This they indignantly scouted,
while they laughed very humorously at the
notion of allowing him, now that he had
heard the other side, to reconsider his
opinion. "We kept Smithfield as long as
we could," said an honourable Councilman,
"so you may know we liked our market; and
it's no mark of ill-will, gentlemen, since we
must move, to carry what we like so much to
you." Indeed the ruin of the valuable
property represented by the deputation, was
treated as a capital joke; and a jocular
tendency arose to put down the petition in a
summary way, first by "a count out," and
next by ordering it to lie upon the table;
but his Lordship in the chair, having stated
that he had received a letter from a noble
marquis to the effect that he would have
accompanied the petitioners if he could have
been in town, the honourable Court, with
the respect due at all times to rank, if not
to reason, referred the document politely to
a committee-room, with the understanding
that it would there be immediately put upon
the shelf. The question was, whether it
should be rudely laid upon the table, or
politely put upon the shelf. My heroes
generously ordered the petition to be put
upon the shelf.

Five hours had now elapsed since my first
entrance upon the scene, in a few minutes
it would be five o'clock, and by the
despondency upon his countenance it became
evident to me that the dinner hour of the
Chief Magistrate was five. The silent opening
and shutting of his mouth resembled
(I speak with respect) that of a young bird
which feels the want of food at an accustomed
time. Reflection on his worship's dinner caused
me at once to feel the want of mine. The
important labours of the City Parliament closed,
I believe, a few minutes afterwards; but I then
left, and reading again in Cardan as I passed
out of Guildhall, struck violently against a
golden man in a cocked hat. Then I looked
up, and saw the vision of a gorgeous coach —
the Lord Mayor's coach— before a file of
Hansom cabs. So, methought, is the
Corporation represented by his Lordship in advance
of all the movements of the age.

TAPPING THE BUTTS.
IN TWO CHAPTERS,— CHAPTER II.

I HAVE come to the conclusion that there
are districts in England which represent every
period of our history; that the Roses are still
fighting in obscure villages in Suffolk; and in
the heart of Warwickshire people are looking
out for news from the Crusades. It was quite
evident that three generations of such people
as inhabited the Butts would take us up a
great many hundred years; that their fathers
were redolent of Queen Elizabeth; and their
grandfathers very bitter against the usurpation
of Henry the Fourth. An English traveller,
in the year 1820, came upon a tribe of
Cossacks in the north-east of Russia, who were
celebrating with great triumph the news, that
day arrived, of the battle of Waterloo. It is
said that the bonfires for the restoration of
Charles the Second, were the first intimation
the inhabitants of Truro had of the great
Civil War and the reign of Oliver Cromwell.
How many Cossacks there are in these days
of illumination scattered all over the country,
who take years to learn the greatness of a
victory that has been won on their behalf!
How many wise men of Truro, who only learn,
from the signs of safety around them, the
troubles and dangers they have escaped by
which that safety was gained!

I am generally reflective when I am hungry,
and these thoughts came into my head while I
was waiting for dinner. You might have
supposed a couple of chickens and a cold ham,
which I had discovered through the glass door
of the larder, need not have taken long to be
placed on the table. But the motions of the
ostler — who was promoted to the rank of
waiter, and bore evident proofs both to eye and
nose of his former occupation— were as slow
as everything else at the Butts. In no placid
humour, I was watching the dilatory manner
in which he pitchforked the bread upon the
table, and currycombed the tablecloth, and
rubbed down the plates before he laid them
on the sideboard, when suddenly the door
opened, and my travelling companion, the
great Arabella, entered the room.

"You'll think me very bold," she said;
"but mamma insisted on my coming— for
duty, she says, is above all things. I heard
how delighted you were with the lecture—
didn't you admire Biddy Budd? Isn't Mr.
Slockum charming?"

"I don't think I made Miss Budd's
acquaintance, and I thought Mr. Slockum
very charming."

"And you're going to Mr. Mudd's? I'm
so enchanted— the Miss Boltons are his
nieces; amiable creatures— mamma and I