of Hessy what-do-you-call-him was in England on his travels.

2d Waiter. Get a newspaper. Look in the newspapers. Susan. Fiddle of the newspapers, who else can it be? Both. That is very true (gravely).

Enter Landlord.

Landlord. Here, Susan, James, Philip, where are you all? The London coach is come in, and there is Mr. Fillaside, the fat passenger, has been bawling for somebody to help him off with his boots.

(The Chambermaid and Waiters slip out.) (Solus). The house is turned upside down since the strange gentleman came into it. Nothing but guessing and speculating, and speculating and guessing; waiters and chambermaids getting into corners and speculating, ostlers and stable-boys speculating in the yard, I believe the very horses in the stable are speculating too, for there they stand in a musing posture, nothing for them to eat, and not seeming to care whether they have any thing or no; and after all what does it signify? I hate such curious- odso, I must take this box up into his bed-room-he charged me to see to it myself -I hate such inquisitive-I wonder what is in it, it feels heavy (reads) "Leases, title deeds, wills." Here now a man might satisfy his curiosity at once. Deeds must have names to them, so must leases and wills. But I wouldn't-no I wouldn't-it is a pretty

box too-prettily dovetailed-I admire the fashion of it much. But I'd cut my fingers off, before I'd do such a dirty-what have I to do-curse the keys, how they rattle-rattle in one's pockets-the keys and the halfpence (takes out a bunch and plays with them). I wonder if any of these would fit; one might just try them, but I wouldn't lift up the lid if they did. Oh no, what should I be the richer for knowing? (All this time he tries the keys one by one.) What's his name to be? a thousand names begin with an H. I hate people that are always prying, poking and prying into things,-thrusting their finger into one place-a mighty little hole this-and their keys into another. Oh Lord! little rusty fits it! but what is that to me? I wouldn't go to-no no-but it is odd little rusty should just happen. (While he is turning up the lid of the box, MR. H. enters behind him unperceived).

Mr. H. What are you about you dog?

Landlord. Oh Lord, Sir! pardon; no thief as I hope to be saved. Little Pry was always honest.

Mr. H. What else could move you to open that box! Landlord. Sir, don't kill me, and I will confess the whole truth. This box happened to be lying-that is, I happened to be carrying this box, and I happened to have my keys out, and so-little rusty happened to

fit Mr. H. So little rusty happened to fit!—and would not a rope fit that rogue's neck? I see the papers have

not been moved: all is safe, but it was as well to frighten him a little (aside). Come, Landlord, as I think you honest, and suspect you only intended to gratify a little foolish curiosity—

Landlord. That was all, Sir, upon my veracity.

Mr. H. For this time I will pass it over. Your name is Pry, I think.

Landlord. Yes, Sir, Jeremiah Pry, at your service. Mr. H. An apt name, you have a prying temper. I mean, some little curiosity, a sort of inquisitiveness

about you.

Landlord. A natural thirst after knowledge you may call it, Sir. When a boy I was never easy, but when I was thrusting up the lids of some of my school-fellows' boxes, not to steal any thing, upon my honour, Sir, -only to see what was in them; have had pens stuck in my eyes for peeping through key-holes, after knowledge; could never see a cold pie with the legs dangling out at top, but my fingers were for lifting up the crust, -just to try if it were pigeon or partridge,—for no other reason in the world.

Surely I think my passion

for nuts was owing to the pleasure of cracking the shell to get at something concealed, more than to any delight I took in eating the kernel. In short, Sir, this appetite has grown with my growth.

Mr. H. You will certainly be hanged some day for peeping into some bureau or other, just to see what is in it.

Landlord. That is my fear, Sir. The thumps and kicks I have had for peering into parcels, and turning of letters inside out, just for curiosity. The blankets I have been made to dance in for searching parishregisters for old ladies' ages,-just for curiosity! Once I was dragged through a horse-pond, only for peeping into a closet that had glass doors to it, while my Lady Bluegarters was undressing,-just for curiosity!

Mr. H. A very harmless piece of curiosity, truly; and now, Mr. Pry, first have the goodness to leave that box with me, and then do me the favour to carry your curiosity so far, as to inquire if my servants are within. Landlord. I shall, Sir. Here, David, Jonathan, -I think I hear them coming,-shall make bold to leave you, Sir. [Exit. Mr. H. Another tolerable specimen of the comforts of going anonymous !

Enter two Footmen.

1st Footman. You speak first.

2d Footman. No, you had better speak. 1st Footman. You promised to begin.

Mr. H. They have something to say to me. The rascals want their wages raised, I suppose; there is always a favour to be asked when they come smiling. Well, poor rogues, service is but a hard bargain at the best. I think I must not be close with them. David-well, Jonathan.

Well,

1st Footman. We have served your honour faith

fully

to

2d Footman. Hope your honour won't take offenceMr. H. The old story, I suppose-—wages?

1st Footman. That's not it, your honour.

2d Footman. You speak.

1st Footman. But if your honour would just be pleased

2d Footman. Only be pleased to

Mr. H. Be quick with what you

am in haste.

1st Footman. Just to

have to say, for I

2d Footman. Let us know who it is

1st Footman. Who it is we have the honour to serve. Mr. H. Why me, me, me; you serve me.

2d Footman. Yes, Sir; but we do not know who you are.

Mr. H. Childish curiosity! do not you serve a rich master, a gay master, an indulgent master?

1st Footman. Ah, Sir! the figure you make is to us, your poor servants, the principal mortification.

2d Footman. When we get over a pot at the publichouse, or in a gentleman's kitchen, or elsewhere, as poor servants must have their pleasures-when the question goes round, who is your master? and who do you serve? and one says, I serve Lord So-and-so, and another, I am Squire Such-a-one's footman