character. It is said that one beautiful morning he was deeply engaged in angling in the "silvery winding Trent," at Colwick, when he was approached by an individual, who was soon recognized as his parish clerk, who thus addressed him: " Please, sir, the place is full, and the people are waiting for you." "What place is full, and what people are waiting to see me?" "Please, sir, the church; and the congregation. It's Sunday, you know, sir." "Bless my life, I had forgotten it was Sunday; I will be there in a minute or two."

A PUGILISTIC NOTTS. SQUIRE AND THE NOTTINGHAM SWEEP.

The St. Louis Republican gives some graphic details regarding the Nottinghamshire Squire, John Musters, who married "Byron's Mary." The following is a selection from the condensed article in the Academy. :-"Jack Musters was known to the country round as the best rider, the best jumper, the best dancer, and the best pugilist the Nottingham region could produce. But in the art of self-defence he once met with more than his match. There was a certain 'boss' chimney sweep in Nottingham who prided himself upon his fistic skill, and determined to try conclusions with his aristocratic rival in that line of business. To bring about the contest he desired, he deliberately went to Annesley Hall, and sat down to fish in the private pond in the park, a little distance from, and in full view of, the mansion. The proprietor, happening to look out of the window, saw the sooty angler dropping his line in forbidden water, and without hesitation took a horsewhip and proceeded to interview the interloper. 'Mr. Sweep' was ready to receive company, for at the first cut of the lash he hit out from the shoulder, and sent his antagonist to 'grass' very handsomely. Musters rose, laid aside the whip, threw off his coat, told sweep to do likewise, and the battle lasted two hours. The chimney professor was victorious, but the badly-mauled Jack bore his defeat nobly, shook hands with the victor, took him into the house, gave him a glass of wine, and told him he had the pre-emption right to fish in that pond as long as he lived."

THE FOUNDER OF THE QUAKERS IN NOTTINGHAM GAOL.

It was at St. Mary's Church, Nottingham, that George Fox, the founder of the Society of Friends, intruded himself, and who, for

violently interfering with the Vicar in the performance of his duties, was forcibly removed and lodged in the town gaol. Of this enthusiastic act he has himself left the following notice in his journal:—“Now as I went towards Nottingham, on a visit in the morning with friends to a meeting there, when I came on the top of a hill in sight of the town, I espied the great steeple house; and the Lord said unto me, 'Thou must go and cry out against yonder great idol, and against the worshippers thereof."" Then he goes on to say, "When I came there all the people looked like fallow ground, and the priest, like a lump of earth, stood in his pulpit above." The said lump, it appears, was at that moment expressing his thankfulness for the possession of the Holy Scriptures; but even such a sentiment did not meet with Fox's approval, for he loudly disputed what the Vicar was saying. The result, however, of this attack, was as disastrous to himself as that of the Knight of La Mancha, when he charged sundry windmills under the impression that they were giants; for Fox adds, "As I spoke thus among them, the officers came and took me away, and put me into a nasty stinking prison, the smell whereof got so into my nose and throat that it very much annoyed me."

AN ATHLETIC BARONET'S FRIENDSHIP.

A baronet, who was a great amateur, and even a practitioner, in boxing and wrestling, was proud of imparting his knowledge to such as consulted him in those sublime sciences. A nobleman in his vicinity happening to call on him, they took a walk in the garden, when the baronet started his favourite topic. The peer, full of politeness, said he should like to see a specimen of his skill. Without more invitation, Sir Thomas Parkyns (we believe this is the name of the athletic baronet) suddenly seized him from behind, and threw him over his head. His lordship, as soon as he could recover his feet, appeared all in a flame at the fall he had received. The gravity of the baronet was not to be altered. "My dear lord," said he, "this is a proof of my great friendship for you. I have never before shown this master-stroke to any person living."

Once, at Holland House, the conversation turned upon first love. Tom Moore compared it to a potato, "because it shoots from the eyes." "Or rather," exclaimed Byron, "because it becomes all the less by pa[i]ring."

SAMUEL FOX AND THE IDLE LADS.

"Old Sammy Fox" (as he was, and is, commonly called) was a good old quaker, of whom Nottingham may be proud, and of whom the following story is told :—One day, about the year 1830, a number of lads, somewhat tired with their play, were hanging about St. Mary's Gate, Nottingham. Samuel, in his usual brisk manner, walked up to them, and seizing one of the youths by the arm, said, "What art thou doing?" "Nothing," replied the lad. "Nothing, didst thou say? Nothing! What wast thou made for ?" asked Mr. Fox. "I don't know," was the answer. "Don't know," Mr. Fox exclaimed, "don't know ?" "Bear in mind, boys, we are all made for some good purpose. Time was when men shut themselves up in monasteries, because in ignorance they knew not what to do; but we have now learnt that there is something for everbody to do. Go, boys; let every one think what his mission is, see what he is best qualified for. Then let him set to work, and work with all his might." Then taking another boy by the hand, he added, for the benefit of all, "Thy duty is to be in the world, and of the world, useful in some capacity. Thou must try to leave this world better than thou found it. Some may misjudge thee, many who can do little themselves may misrepresent and malign thee-this is the common weapon of little and mean minds; but heed not, go on, and see how much of that which is good thou canst do."

A QUAKER'S RETORT.

On one occasion, when the father of the "Sherwood Forester " was passing along a street in the lower part of Nottingham, and coming to a corner where a group of gossiping men stood, he was approached by one who meant to raise a laugh at the quaker's expense. Staring him impudently in the face, he said, "I say, master, how long have you worn that big hat?" Pausing for a moment, and looking at his questioner, he turned the tables by saying, loud enough to be heard by all, "I cannot remember exactly, but am afraid not so long as thou'st been a fool." Old Mr. Hall was an excellent pedestrian, and he seldom allowed any person walking the same way to pass him. One day a stout man, who came almost up to him near the seven-mile house, between Mansfield and Nottingham, and who had another person upon a pony for a companion, got so annoyed at his inability to go ahead,

as to get talking at the Friend somewhat offensively. At length, becoming even more personal than before, he shouted loudly, “If I'd that man's hat it would make two for me." "No," quietly retorted Mr. Hall, turning round, and looking calmly at the stout quiz, "it would take a larger hat than this to make two for one thick head!" while the man on the pony made the forest echo with his laughter, and his shout of "Well done, old quaker!”

THE WICKED LORD AND HIS PET CRICKETS.

It is related that the only companions of the "wicked” Lord Byron, after his murder of Mr. Chaworth (of which an account will be found in our Nottinghamshire Gleanings), were the crickets, which he used to feed with his own hand, and had so tamed that they crawled over him. If they misbehaved he beat them with a wisp of straw; and at his death they are said to have left the house in a body.

YOUNG BYRON AT THE THEATRE.

When Mary Gray, his nurse, took Byron to the theatre to see the "Taming of the Shrew," he watched the performance with silent interest; but in the scene between Catherine and Petruchio, where the following dialogue takes place ::

CATH.-"I know it is the moon.

PETRUCH.-Nay then you lie-it is the blessed sun."

Geordie (as they called him as a child), starting from his seat: cried out boldly, "But I say it is the moon, sir."

BYRON AT SCHOOL.

claimed

While Lord Byron and Mr. Peel were at Harrow together, a tyrant some few years older, whose name wasa right to fag little Peel, which claim Peel resisted. His resistance, however, was in vain ; not only subdued him, but determined also to punish the refractory slave, and proceeded forth with to put this determination in practice, by inflicting a kind of bastinado on the inner fleshy side of the boy's arm, which, during the operation, was twisted round with some degree of technical skill, to render the pain more acute. When the stripes were succeeding each other, and poor Peel writhing under them, Byron

saw and felt for the misery of his friend; and although he knew he was not strong enough to fight with any success, and that it was dangerous even to approach him, he advanced to the scene of action, and with a blush of rage, tears in his eyes, and a voice trembling between terror and indignation, asked very humbly if would be pleased to tell him how many stripes he meant to inflict. "Why," returned the executioner, “what is that to you?" "Because, if you please," said Byron, holding out his arm, "I would take half."-Moore's Byron, I.. 68-69.

BYRON AND THE SHOEMAKER.

During the residence of Lord Byron at Venice, the house of a shoemaker was destroyed by fire, and every article belonging to the poor man being lost, he was, with a large family, reduced to a most pitiable condition. The noble lord having ascertained the afflicting circumstances of this event ordered a new and supérior habitation to be immediately built for the sufferers. In addition to this, he presented the unfortunate tradesman with a sum equal in value to the whole of his lost stock-in-trade and furniture.

A WILD FREAK OF BYRON'S.

As an instance of Byron's wild mode of living as a young man, we give the following:-At the entrance door of the great hall of Newstead Abbey lay chained, on the right side, a bear, and on the left, a wolf; and in the hall itself the young inmates of the Abbey (Byron and his college friends) fired at a mark with pistols, so that anyone entering had to give notice of his approach by a loud cry, if he would not expose himself to the danger of a stray bullet.

BYRON'S FLUNKEY.

Lord Byron's valet grievously excited his master's ire by observing, whilst Lord Byron was examining the remains of Athens, "La me, my lord, what capital mantel-pieces that marble would make in England!"

THE WHITE LADY OF NEWSTEAD.

Amongst the quaint traditions that flit about the neighbourhood of Hucknall, it used to be related by the old inhabitants