To seek the politician's gain,
Were hateful:—ay, as though the priest
Took usury, within the fane!
OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
BARON DE BOOK-WORMS owns to being easily affected by a pathetic episode. He well remembers how years ago in the course of a discussion among literary men about books and their writers, the Baron acknowledged that in spite of his having been told how the pathos of DICKENS was all a trick, and how the sentiment of that great novelist was for the most part false, he still felt a choking sensation in his throat and a natural inclination to blow his nose strenuously whenever he re-read the death of Little Paul, the death of Dora, and some passages about Tiny Tim. There was no dissentient voice as to the death of Colonel Newcome; all admitted the recurrence of that peculiar choking sensation, read they their THACKERAY never so often. Now the Baron differs from Josh Sedley in, as he thinks, many respects, but he is almost as "easily moved to tears" as was that stout hero. Wherefore this preface? Well, 'tis because the Baron owns to having "snivelled," if you will, when reading a delightful story, published by MACMILLAN in one volume ("bless all good stories in one vol., clearly printed!" says the Baron, parenthetically), entitled simply, Tim. No relation to Tiny Tim already mentioned; quite another child. The Baron strongly recommends this story, and especially to Etonians past and present, as giving a life-like picture which the latter will recognise, of the career at that great public school of a fragile little chap entirely unfitted by nature for the rough and tumble of such a life. The considerate tutor, too, is no effort of imagination; he exists; and, perhaps, such an one may have always existed since the division between Collegers and Oppidans first began. The Baron in his own time, nigh forty years ago, knew an exceptional species of this rare genus; but there are plenty of witnesses to the truth of the Etonian portion of Tim. "Tolle, lege!" quoth the Baron, and be not ashamed if in reading the latter portion of the story you have to search for your pocket-handkerchief, and, glancing furtively around, murmur to yourself, "But soft! I am observed!" Then when unobserved, "wipe the other eye!" and thank the unknown author of Tim; at the same time not forgetting your guide, philosopher, and friend,
THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.