about to quote, strikes us as being a very peculiar and freeand-easy style for an author to address himself to a King of England. It is as follows:-

'Indeed, the whole chapter of 'Life in London' has been so repeatedly perused by your Majesty in such a variety of shapes, from the elegant A, the refined B, the polite C, the lively D, the eloquent E, the honest F, the stately G, the peep-o'-day H, the tasteful I, the manly J, the good K, the noble L, the stylish M, the brave N, the liberal O, the proud P, the long-headed Q, the animated R, the witty S, the flash T, the knowing U, the honourable V, the consummated W, the funny X, the musical Y, and the poetical Z, that it would only be a waste of your Majesty's valuable time to expatiate further upon this subject."

One notable effect of "Life in London," particularly in its dramatised form, must be recorded. It broke the heart of poor Billy Waters, the one-legged musical negro, who died in St. Giles's workhouse, on Friday, March 21, 1823, whispering with his ebbing breath, a mild anathema, which sounded very much like: "Cuss him, dam Tommy Jerry." Poor Billy, who was born in America, and lost his leg by falling from the top-sail yard to the quarter deck, in the Ganymede sloop of war, under the command of Sir John. Purvis, endeavoured up to the period of his last illness, to obtain for a wife and two children what he termed "An honest living by scraping de cat-gut!" by which he originally collected considerable sums of money at the West-end of the town, where his ribbon-decked cocked hat and feathers, with the grin on his countenance, and sudden turn and kick out of his wooden limb, and other antics and efforts to please, excited much mirth and attention, and were well rewarded from the pockets of John Bull. The burden of Billy's ditty "From noon to dewy eve," and from January to December was:—

Kitty will you marry me,
Kitty will you cry—
Kitty will you marry me,

Kitty will you cry! cry-cry!

Billy became unfortunate-his occupation gone. The fickle British public refused to be as liberal as they had been, which he attributed to the production of "Tom and Jerry," with whom he was made to take his Madeira and Champagne, also to complain when he had "No capers cut for de leg ob mutton, Bah!" "No real turtle, but de mock turtle ! No lem'un to him weal, no hoysters to him rum'-steak. Vat!" he was made to exclaim, "Vat's dat I hears! No sassingers to de turkey?— de Alderman vidout him chain. Damme, Landlord, me change my hotel to-morrow."

However, by a combination of events, Billy became very poor, and was obliged, prior to his going into the workhouse, to part with his old friend, the fiddle, for a trifling sum at the pawnbroker's; and the wooden pin (leg) which had so often supported Billy, would have shared the same fate, but its extensive service had rendered it worthless though it had twice saved poor Billy from the penalties of the Treadmill. He received a trifling pension after he left the naval service.

A short time prior to his death, Billy Waters was elected King of a party of Beggars in St. Giles's, in consequence of his notoriety.

Of all the occupations,

A beggar's life's the best;

For whene'er he's weary,

He'll lay him down and rest.

And a begging we will go, we 'll go, we'll go;

And a begging we will go

Billy was considered of sufficient public importance, when in the flesh, to be moulded and well baked by a Potter, who, taking up and moistening a lump of clay, said, “Be ware!” and then turned Billy out in one of his happiest moods and positions, with a broad grin on his black mug—a perfect image, suitable for a chimney or sideboard ornament; which found a ready sale at the time of its manufacture, but has now become very rare in perfect condition, and, much coveted by collectors to add to their Class, or Section of "ENGLISH CHARACTERS." Specimens of this style of ware are exhibited at the Brighton Free Public Library, by Henry Willett, Esq.

How delightful Pierce Egan's book was to the youths of England, and how eagerly all its promised feasts of pleasure were devoured by them, Thackeray has told us in his "Roundabout Papers-DE JUVENTUTE"-in the "Cornhill Magazine" for October, 1860.

Mr., afterwards Sir William Cubitt, of Ipswich, erected a treadmill at Brixton Gaol, and soon afterwards in other large prisons. A street ballad on the subject was issued from the "Catnach Press" and had a most unprecedented sale, keeping the pressmen and boys working for weeks

"And we're all treading, tread, tread, treading,

And we're all treading at fam'd Brixton Mill."

The treadmill-that "terror to evil doers"-excited much attention, and the inventor's name gave rise to many jokes on the subject among such of the prisoners who could laugh at their own crimes, who said that they were punished by the cubit! The following punning ditty was very popular at the period:

THE TREADMILL.

his Brixton Mill's a fearful ill,

This

And he who brought the Bill in,
Is threatn'd by the cribbing coves,

That he shall have a milling.
They say he shew'd a simple pate,
To think of felons mending:
As every step which here they take,
They're still in crime ascending.

And when releas'd, and in the streets
Their former snares they 're spreading,
They swear 'tis Parliament, which wills
They must their old ways tread in.
The Radicals begin to think

"Twill touch the Constitution,

For as the wheel moves round and round, It brings a Revolution.

But though these snarlers show their teeth,

And try to vex the nation,

Their actions soon are tried and judg'd,
And grinding is their station.

The Gambling swells, who near St. James'
Have play'd their double dealings,
Say 'tis not fair that Bow-street should
Thus work upon their feelings.

Tom, Jerry, Logic, three prime sprigs,
Find here they cannot come it,
For though their fancy soars aloft,
They ne'er will reach the summit.
Corinthian Kate and buxom Sue

Must change their warm direction,
For if they make one false step more

They'll have Cold Bath Correction.