| FRONTPIECE II. | [SHOOTING] |
| TITLE PAGE II. | [VOLUME II.] |
| PLATE XIII. | [WATTY WILLIAMS AND BULL] |
| PLATE XIV. | [DELICACY!] |
| PLATE XV. | [Now, Jem, let's shew these gals how we can row] |
| PLATE XVI. | [STEAMING IT TO MARGATE.] |
| PLATE XVII. | [PETER SIMPLE'S FOREIGN ADVENTURE. No. I.] |
| PLATE XVIII. | [PETER SIMPLE'S FOREIGN ADVENTURE. No. II.] |
| PLATE XIX. | [DOBBS'S "DUCK."—A LEGEND OF HORSELYDOWN.] |
| PLATE XX. | [STRAWBERRIES AND CREAM.] |
| PLATE XXI. | [A DAY'S PLEASURE. No. I.—THE JOURNEY OUT.] |
| PLATE XXII. | [A DAY'S PLEASURE. No. II.—THE JOURNEY HOME.] |
| PLATE XXIII. | [HAMMERING] Beside a meandering stream ] |
| PLATE XXIV. | [PRACTICE.] |
| PLATE XXV. | [PRECEPT.] |
| PLATE XXVI. | [EXAMPLE.] |
| PLATE XXVII. | [A MUSICAL FESTIVAL.] |
| PLATE XXVIII. | [THE EATING HOUSE.] |
| PLATE XXIX. | [SCENE X.(b)] This is a werry lonely spot, Sir] |
| PLATE XXX. | [GONE!] |
| PLATE XXXI. | [THE PRACTICAL JOKER. No. I.] |
| PLATE XXXII. | [THE PRACTICAL JOKER. No. II.] |
| PLATE XXXIII. | [FISHING FOR WHITING AT MARGATE.] |
[WATTY WILLIAMS AND BULL]
"He sat, like patience on a monument, smiling at grief."
"He sat, like patience on a monument, smiling at grief."
WATTY WILLIAMS was a studious youth, with a long nose and a short pair of trowsers; his delight was in the green fields, for he was one of those philosophers who can find sermons in stones, and good in everything. One day, while wandering in a meadow, lost in the perusal of Zimmerman on Solitude, he was suddenly aroused from his reverie by a loud "Moo!" and, turning about, he descried, to his dismay, a curly-fronted bull making towards him.
Now, Watt., was so good-humoured a fellow, that he could laugh at an Irish bull, and withal, so staunch a Protestant, that a papal bull only excited a feeling of pity and contempt; but a bull of the breed which was careering towards him in such lively bounds, alarmed him beyond all bounds; and he forthwith scampered over the meadow from the pugnaceous animal with the most agile precipitation imaginable; for he was not one of those stout-hearted heroes who could take the bull by the horns—especially as the animal appeared inclined to contest the meadow with him; and though so fond of beef (as he naturally was), he declined a round upon the present occasion.
Seeing no prospect of escape by leaping stile or hedge, he hopped the green turf like an encaged lark, and happily reached a pollard in the midst of the meadow.
Climbing up with the agility of a squirrel, he seated himself on the knobby summit of the stunted willow.