CONTENTS OF VOL. II.
| PAGE | ||
| Cases Worth Looking At: I. | ||
| Memoirs of an Adopted Son | [1] | |
| Sketches of Character: IV. | ||
| The Bachelor Bedroom | [30] | |
| Nooks and Corners of History: III. | ||
| A remarkable Revolution | [55] | |
| Douglas Jerrold | [75] | |
| Sketches of Character: V. | ||
| Pray employ Major Namby! | [95] | |
| Cases Worth Looking At: II. | ||
| The Poisoned Meal | [114] | |
| Sketches of Character: VI. | ||
| My Spinsters | [173] | |
| Dramatic Grub Street. (Explored in Two Letters) | [193] | |
| To Think, or Be Thought For? | [211] | |
| Social Grievances: IV. | ||
| Save Me from my Friends | [230] | |
| Cases Worth Looking At: III. | ||
| The Cauldron of Oil | [250] | |
| Bold Words by a Bachelor | [281] | |
| Social Grievances: V. | ||
| Mrs. Bullwinkle | [292] | |
MY MISCELLANIES.
CASES WORTH LOOKING AT.—I.
MEMOIRS OF AN ADOPTED SON.[A]
I.—Circumstances which preceded his Birth.
Towards the beginning of the eighteenth century there stood on a rock in the sea, near a fishing village on the coast of Brittany, a ruined Tower with a very bad reputation. No mortal was known to have inhabited it within the memory of living man. The one tenant whom Tradition associated with the occupation of the place, at a remote period, had moved into it from the infernal regions, nobody knew why—had lived in it, nobody knew how long—and had quitted possession, nobody knew when. Under such circumstances, nothing was more natural than that this unearthly Individual should give a name to his residence; for which reason, the building was thereafter known to all the neighbourhood round as Satanstower.
Early in the year seventeen hundred, the inhabitants of the village were startled, one night, by seeing the red gleam of a fire in the Tower, and by smelling, in the same direction, a preternaturally strong odour of fried fish. The next morning, the fishermen who passed by the building in their boats were amazed to find that a stranger had taken up his abode in it. Judging of him at a distance, he seemed to be a fine tall stout fellow: he was dressed in fisherman's costume, and he had a new boat of his own, moored comfortably in a cleft of the rock. If he had inhabited a place of decent reputation, his neighbours would have immediately made his acquaintance; but, as things were, all they could venture to do was to watch him in silence.