him a trick, we stuck some glass crackers in the candle, which, in about an hour, exploded with a loud report, blew out the candle, and left us in the dark. A particle of glass hit his forehead. He cried aloud, and said it was his opposite neighbour who had a design upon his life, and had fired a pistol at him! When in the company of females he was dreadfully embarrassed. To put his gallantry to the test my. friend C borrowed his sister's clothes, and personated a young lady leaning on the arm of a gentleman, who waited upon him to be taught French. On seeing a petticoat enter the room, he was alarmed, and turned his back upon the visitors. The lady expressed a wish to be taught some lessons. Kershaw firmly replied he never taught ladies. As the fair one approached, he receded into a corner, when, laying hold of his arm, she said she would not be denied. He screamed out in an agony of fright, and we, pretty fellows, burst out in a roar of laughter as the strangers fled from the room. Our valiant teacher did not overget this insufferable attack upon him for some time, nor did he ever make out who had assaulted him in this abominable way. This scene was in the last act of my schooldays, which terminated with more fun than discipline.

CHAPTER VI.

CORBET-MR. BENTLEY-INDUSTRY-THE CRANKY MISS B.

KICKED DOWN STAIRS.

Among the public characters mentioned by Throsby, in his History of Leicester, is William Corbet, a little prig of a man, who lived with Mr. Bentley, the draper, was the only tradesman who discounted paper money, there being no bankers in Leicester till the time of Carr and Hodges. Corbet was his servant, for more than forty years, and proved an honest, obsequious creature. Being very fond of dress, he selected from his master's shop a variety of articles with which he adorned his diminutive person, and, in full costume, looked very much like a large dressed-up doll. Though a bachelor of sixty years' standing, such were his womanish habits, that, from his youth, he had employed himself in making his own clothes, shirts, and every domestic article in which the needle was employed. Indeed, he was one of the exquisites of the day. At Mr. Bentley's decease he set up housekeeping himself, but kept no servant, as he shunned the society of females. At Corbet's death, Throsby says, "his house was found stuffed with clothing of every description. The sale of his goods afforded much amusement. He had forty suits of clothes, twenty dozens of shirts, 120 table-cloths, and

as many napkins; fifty pairs of sheets, fifty dozens of purses; besides innumerable other instances of his patient industry."

We had in Leicester another singular character of the opposite sex-Miss B.-an old maid, described in a paper of that day, as one of the most cranky, illnatured, maggoty, peevish, conceited, censorious, outof-the-way, never-to-be-pleased, good-for-nothing creatures that ever appeared in the world. Her cold commanding brow put to flight everything mild and cheering. She was rich, and that for Corbet was sufficient attraction. It was whispered that she had taken a fancy to him on account of his saving disposition, and that, if he could get introduced to her, the lady might be won. Miss B. was of a robust, masculine make, strong both in body and mind. She had more of the rough-and-ready even in her little finger, than the insipid Corbet in his whole body. By an extraordinary effort of courage our hero waited upon the lady, and met with a tolerable reception. In his eagerness to recommend himself, he began to descant upon his money, and modestly hinted at the shirts, sheets, and napkins, which he could lay at her feet on the wedding day, all the product of his own hands. Alas! this display of his notable industry excited only her contempt. She arose with the utmost indignation, and marched him out of the room. In his hurry and fright, he fell down stairs; but from the passionate violence of the lady, the general belief was, that she

24

JOURNEY TO DUFFIELD-PONY.

Chap. 5.

kicked him down stairs. This is the incident referred

to in the following song:

SONG (PAGE 38.)

When late I attempted

Your passion to prove,

Why were you so deaf to my prayers?

Perhaps you were right,

To dissemble your love,

JOURNEY TO DUFFIELD- -PONY-GALLOWS-BIRSTALL SANDSDERBY-BOOTS AND SPURS-ANDERSEN.

1778.-When I was eight years old, I prevailed upon my parents to let me pay a visit to my grandmother at Duffield, in Derbyshire. A neighbour offered to lend me his pony, and as it was very tractable, I was permitted to venture upon this exploit by myself. Long before the day arrived I dreamed of nothing but my journey; nor was I sure of the promised pleasure until I felt my feet in the stirrups, and heard the creaking of the new saddle on which I had mounted. It was dark when I set off in the morning, and by the time I had reached Belgrave, it occurred to me that the road passed close to the gallows, where I had lately seen a woman hanged for