⁂ As to the question which opened these Papers,—why, I must leave it to the jury. Is the jesting, revelling, rioting Falstaff, broken of fortunes, luckless in life, sunk in habits, buffeting with the discreditable part of the world, or the melancholy, mourning, complaining Jaques, honourable of conduct, high in moral position, fearless of the future, and lying in the forest away from trouble,—which of them, I say, feels more the load of care? I think Shakspeare well knew, and depicted them accordingly. But I must leave it to my readers, si qui sunt.
FAMILY STORIES.—No. V.
HON. MR. SUCKLE-THUMBKIN'S STORY.
THE EXECUTION.
A SPORTING ANECDOTE.
My Lord Tomnoddy got up one day; It was half after two, He had nothing to do, So his lordship rang for his cabriolet.
Tiger Tim Was clean of limb, His boots were polished, his jacket was trim; With a very smart tie in his smart cravat, And a smart cockade on the top of his hat; Tallest of boys, or shortest of men, He stood in his stockings just four foot ten; And he ask'd, as he held the door on the swing, "Pray, did your lordship please to ring?"