There was a general laugh, and the Universal Smasher left the room, giving us, as he passed us, such a look that we felt we were doomed. That look clearly said—it pierced us like an arrow with a message tied to it—"To be smashed in our next." We hope all benevolent souls will pray for us!
"Who is he?" we asked, as soon as we breathed again.
"Don't you know?" said our neighbour, with the greatest astonishment. "He's Brown!"
"Who's Brown?" we inquired, in a faltering voice, and a cold shiver.
"It's strange you never heard of Brown! He's the editor of the Penny Whistle."
"Oh, indeed!"
We have inquired everywhere—we have offered any sum of money—we have begged and prayed of newsvendors and friends, and bookstall-hunters, to buy us, at any price, the Penny Whistle; but we have not seen yet that fearful work of extermination. We now offer a reward of 100l., and our blessing, to anybody who will send us a copy of it, no matter how dirty it may be. We shall not be happy till we know positively whether we are smashed or not!
THE RESPECTABLE MAN.
A highly respectable Man
Is Iscariot Ingots, Esquire,