ball of Indian rubber, on which was painted a not very flattering resemblance of the worthy vicar, executed under the direction of Mr. Seymour, by that inimitable artist, George Cruikshank. The ball was connected with an air-syringe, by which it was easily distended. It gradually increased in magnitude, swelling like the gourd of Jonah, as the inflation proceeded; and the countenance of the vicar progressively enlarged to the size of the full moon, without the least alteration in the character or expression of his features.

"I declare," said Mr. Seymour, "the vicar improves upon acquaintance."

"It must be acknowledged that you have puffed him into consequence," observed Mrs. Seymour.

The countenance had, after a short time, swelled to ten times its original dimensions; the children deafened Mr. Seymour with their shouts, and the good-humoured clergyman was actually convulsed with laughter. The stop-cock was now turned; the elastic bladder became smaller and smaller, and the features underwent a corresponding diminution, until they once again assumed their original dimensions.

"You perceive, my dear Sir, that I make you look small again."

"That is by no means an unusual effect of your pleasantry," replied the vicar.

"Now, Tom," said his father, "it is for you to explain the nature of the exhibition you have just witnessed."

Tom proceeded accordingly.

"The bladder was highly elastic, and therefore readily yielded to the pressure of the air, and became distended. As soon, however, as the pressure was removed, the air was driven out again with force, and the particles of the Indian rubber returned to their former condition. But I observed one circumstance which I do not understand," said Tom; "when you first turned the stop-cock, the air rushed out with great violence, and the ball diminished very rapidly; but it gradually slackened, until, at last, the bladder could scarcely be seen to contract."

"I rejoice to find that you were so observant," said his

H

father: "the effect you noticed depended upon a general law of elasticity. Elastic bodies, in the recovery of their forms from a state of compression, after the removal of the compressing force, exert a greater power at first than at last, so that the whole progress of restoration is a retarded motion."

The vicar, who had listened with profound attention to the explanation which the boy had offered, rushed forward at its conclusion, and clasping him in his arms, declared, that a first-class man of Trinity could not have succeeded better.

But let us now, if you please, Mr. Seymour, suspend our researches: recollect," said the vicar, "that your birds are, as yet, scarcely fledged; and they will, therefore, make greater advances by short flights frequently repeated, than by uninterrupted progression.'

We heartily concur in this opinion, and shall, therefore, terminate the chapter.

CHAPTER VI.

THE ARRIVAL OF MAJOR SNAPWELL, AND THE BUSTLE IT OCCASIONED.THE MAIDEN LADIES OF OVERTON PERPLEXED, BUT NOT SUBDUED.THE VICAR'S INTERVIEW WITH THE STRANGER. THE OBJECT OF THE LATTER IN VISITING OVERTON.-A CURIOUS DISCUSSION.-A WORD OR TWO ADDRESSED TO FOX-HUNTERS.-VERBAL CORRUPTIONS.-CURIOUS DERIVATIONS.-SOME GEOMETRICAL DEFINITIONS.-AN INSTRUCTIVE

ENIGMA.

As the maiden ladies of Overton were regaling themselves with a sociable dish of tea and chat, and like many other cackling old women, discussing the mysteries of Table-turning' and 'Spirit rappings,' (17.) the conversation was abruptly interrupted by the appearance of a chariot-and-four, that passed along the road with luxurious speed, and which, as Miss Kitty Ryland declared, announced, by the dignified suavity of its roll, that the personage it conveyed must be of superior rank.

"Those," exclaimed she, "who cannot at once distinguish such 'spirit-stirring' sounds from the discordant rattle of a plebeian chaise, deserve to wear the ears of Midas."

This extraordinary subtlety of Miss Ryland's ears is said to have been conferred upon them in her early days, by those universal promoters of bodily vigour, air and exercise, of which they had received the combined advantage by the ingenious habit of listening to whispers through a certain pneumatic apparatus, familiarly termed a keyhole. In farther proof of the fidelity and alertness of her auditory establishment, we may just state, that, on passing Doseall's shop, she never failed to distinguish, by the sound of the mortar, whether the medicines under preparation were designed for the stomachs of the rich or the poor. The vicar even admitted the correctness of her discrimination, for he had himself observed that the pestle beat dactyls in one case, and spondees in the other.

While the carriage was passing the window, the maiden companions were breathless with wonder, each catching a glance from the countenance of her neighbour, which heightened as it were, by reflection, the surprise depicted on her own.

"Overton," exclaimed Miss Noodleton, "is doubtless by this time honoured by the arrival of some distinguished stranger; but who he is, or what may be the object of his visit, I am at a loss to divine."

"Pooh!" cried Miss Puttle; "what a fuss is here about a green carriage and four hack horses! I doubt not but that it has conveyed some visitor to the vicar: had the Seymours expected any company, I must have heard of it yesterday."

"To the vicar!" exclaimed Miss Phyllis Tapps; "and pray, Miss Puttle, allow me to ask whether you ever heard of the peacock nestling with the crow ?"

"Or of the eagle taking up its abode in an ivy-bush ?" vociferated Miss Ryland.

Conjectures were vain, and the 'weird sisters' determined to consult their omens; prior to which, however, it was judged expedient to see and question Ralph Spindle, whom Dr. Doseall employed on the arrival of a stranger, as certain insects are said to use their 'feelers' to discover the approach of any prey that may serve them as food.

The stranger was soon discovered to be a Major Snapwell, a rich and eccentric old bachelor, who had served in various campaigns in different parts of the globe, and received a competent number of wounds in the defence of his king and country. His age was within an easy distance of sixty. His fortune was reported to be large, and it was said that he had not any near relative to enjoy the reversion, since his nephew had perished about two years before by shipwreck. The circumstances that led to this disastrous event were believed to have so affected the veteran, as to have occasioned a very serious illness, and a consequent state of despondency, for which his physicians advised a constant change of scene; so that he had been rambling about the Continent during the last year and a half, accompanied only by

his faithful servant Jacob Watson, who was as much attached to the Major, as was ever a Newfoundland dog to his master.

Such was the information derived from Annette, the vicar's housekeeper: what proportion of fiction was mingled with its truth, the reader will probably soon be able to dis cover. It is, however, necessary he should be early informed that this veteran officer received his education at Harrow, and had afterwards extended his cla sical scholarship at Cambridge, where he was remembered as the successful candidate for the Seatonian Prize Poem.

"Well, Jacob," said the Major, as his trusty but asthmatic valet was leisurely buttoning on the long gaiters of his master the morning after his arrival, "what do you hear about this village of Overton? Are there any sociable neighbours? I like the country; it is beautiful, Jacob, and the air appears mild: it promises to be the very place to rekindle the sparks of my expiring constitution; and should you, at the same time, get your broken-winded bellows mended, my vital flame might, perhaps, burn a little brighter. But tell me, what do you hear of it,

Jacob ?"

"Why, and please you, Major, I just now met an old crony of mine, Mrs. Annette Brown, at the Devil and the Bag of Nails

"And pray, Jacob," exclaimed the Major, "who taught you to speak thus irreverently of the village blacksmith?" "The village blacksmith! Lord love you, Sir, it is the sign of the village alehouse!"

Then it is a very odd one; but go on with your story."

"As I was saying, Major, I met an old acquaintance who is housekeeper to Mr. Twaddleton, a bachelor gentleman, and the vicar of the parish. She tells me her master is downright adored in the place: though he must needs be a queer mortal, for she says he is so fond of antics that he won't suffer a mop or broom in his house, lest, I suppose, it should spoil the hopping of the fleas, and put an end to the fly's rope-dance upon a cobweb."