At eleven o'clock at night, the royal family supped in public in the great state ball-room.

About one, the bride and bridegroom retired, and afterwards sat up in their bedchamber, in rich undresses, to be seen by the nobility, and other company at court. On the following day there was a more splendid appearance of persons of quality to pay their compliments to the royal pair than was ever seen at this court; and in the evening there was a ball equally magnificent, and the prince of Orange danced several minuets.

A few days before the nuptials, the Irish peers resident in London, not having received summonses to attend the royal procession, met to consider their claims to be present, and unanimously resolved that neither themselves nor the peeresses would attend the wedding as spectators, and that they would not send to the lord chamberlain's office for their tickets.*

THE "PAPEGUAY."

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.

Kennington, March 7, 1826. Sir,-The following brief observations on the sport mentioned at p. 289, may not be considered unacceptable; strange to say, it is not mentioned by either Strutt or Fosbroke in their valuable works.

This sport obtained over the principal parts of Europe. The celebrated composer, C. M.Von Weber, opens his opera of horrors, "Der Frieschütz," with a scene of shooting for the popingay. This is a proof that it is common in Germany,

where the successful candidate is elected a

petty sovereign for the day. The necessity and use of such a custom in a country formed for the chase, is obvious.

The author of the "Waverley" novels, in his excellent tale of "Old Mortality," introduces a scene of shooting for the popin gay, as he terms it. It was usual for the sheriff to call out the feudal array of the county, annually, to what was called the wappen-schaws. The author says, "The sheriff of the county of Lanark was holding the wappen-schaw of a wild district, called the Upper Ward of Clydesdale, on a traugh or level plain, near to a royal borough, the name of which is in no way essential to my story, upon the morning of the 5th of May, 1679, when our narrative commences. When the musters had

Gentleman's Magazine.

been made, and duly reported, the young men, as was usual, were to mix in various parts, of which the chief was to shoot at the popingay, an ancient game formerly practised with archery, and then with firearms. This was the figure of a bird, decked with party-coloured feathers, so as to resemble a popingay or parrot. It was suspended to a pole, and served for a mark, at which the competitors discharged their fusees and carbines in rotation, at the distance of sixty or seventy paces. He whose ball brought down the mark, held the proud title of captain of the popingay for the remainder of the day, and was usually escorted in triumph to the most reputable chargehouse in the neighbourhood, where the evening was closed with conviviality, conducted under his auspices." From the accuracy and research of the author, I am inclined to take it for granted, that this sport was common in Scotland.

prospectus proposed to their consideration. If each reader will only contribute something to the instruction and amusement of the rest, the editor has no doubt that he will be able to present a larger series of interesting notices and agreeable illustrations, than any work he is at present acquainted with.

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book. February 6, 1826.

Sir, I send you the account of two more games, or in-doors sports, in vogue among the country people in Cornwall. Of the latter, Mr. D. Gilbert has made slight mention in the introduction to his carols, second edition; but he states that these games, together with carol-singing, may be considered as obsolete, which is by no means the case: even yet in most of the western parishes, (and of these I can speak from personal observation,) the carol-singers, not only sing their "auntient chaunts" in the churches, but go about from house to house in parties. I am told the practice is the same in many other parts of the county, as it is also in various places throughout the kingdom. I have added a slight notice respecting Piccadilly, which (if worth inserting) may be new to some of your readers; but, now for our Cornish sports: I state them as I found them, and they are considered pro

vincial.

Fisrt, then, the Tinkeler's(tinker's) shop. In the middle of the room is placed a large iron pot, filled with a mixture of soot and water. One of the most humourous of the set is chosen for the master of the shop, who takes a small mop in his left hand, and a short stick in his right; his comrades each have a small stick in his right hand; the master gives each a separate name, as Old Vulcan, Save-all, Tear'em, All-my-men, Mend-all, &c. After these preliminaries, all kneel down, encircling the iron vessel. The master cries out, "Every one (that is, all together, or 'one and all,' as the Cornish say,) and I; all then hammer away with their sticks as fast as they can, some of them with absurd grimaces. Suddenly the master will, perhaps, cry out, "All-my-men and I;" upon this, all are to cease working, except the individual called All-my-men; and if any unfortunate delinquent fails, he is treated with a salute from the mop well dipped in the black liquid: this never fails to afford great entertainment to the spectators, and if the master is “"well up to the sport," he contrives that none of his comrades shall

escape unmarked; for he changes rapidly from All-my-men and I, to Old Vulcan and I, and so on, and sometimes names two or three together, that little chance of escaping with a clean face is left.

The Corn-market.-Here, as before, an experienced reveller is chosen to be the master, who has an assistant, called Spythe-market. Another character is Old Penglaze, who is dressed up in some ridiculous way, with a blackened face, and a staff in his hand; he, together with part of a horse's hide girt round him, for the hobby-horse, are placed towards the back of the market. The rest of the players sit round the room, and have each some even price affixed to them as names; for instance, Two-pence, Four-pence, Sixpence, Twelve-pence, &c. The master then says "Spy-the-market," to which the man responds, "Spy-the-market;" the master repeats, "Spy-the-market ;” the man says, Aye, sirrah." The master then asks the price of corn, to which Spy-the-market, may reply any price he chooses, of those given to his comrades, for instance,

Twelve-pence." The master then says, "Twelve-pence," when the man hearing that price answers "Twelve-pence," and a similar conversation ensues, as with Spy-the-market before, and Twelve-pence names his price, and so the game proceeds; but if, as frequently happens, any of the prices forget their names, or any other mistakes occur in the game, the offender is to be sealed, a ceremony in which the principal amusement of the game consists; it is done as follows,-the master goes to the person who has forfeited, and takes up his foot, saying, "Here is my seal, where is old Penglaze's seal?" and then gives him a blow on the sole of the foot. Old Penglaze then comes in on his horse, with his feet tripping on the floor, saying, "Here I comes, neither riding nor a foot;" the horse winces and capers, so that the old gentleman can scarcely keep his seat. When he arrives at the market, he cries out, "What work is there for me to do?" The master holds up the foot of the culprit and says, “Here, Penglaze, is a fine shoeing match for you." Penglaze dismounts; "I think it's a fine colt indeed." He then begins to work by pulling the shoe off the unfortunate coll, saying "My reward is a full gallon of moonlight, besides all other customs for shoeing in this market;" he then gives one or two hard blows on the shoe-less foot, which make its proprietor tingle,