THE LITTLE BIT OF TAPE.

BY RICHARD JOHNS, ESQ.

"Slow and sure" has been the motto of my family from generation to generation, and wonderfully has it prospered by acting on this maxim; the misfortunes of the house of Slowby having apparently been reserved for the only active and enterprising individual ever born unto that name. Reader, I am that unhappy man! Waiters upon Fortune, plentifully have all my progenitors fared from the dainties of the good lady's table; while I, in my anxiety to share in the feast, have generally upset the board, and lost every thing in the scramble.

Sir James Slowby, my worthy father, was a younger son, and his portion had been little more than the blessing of a parent, conveyed in the form of words always used in our family- Bless thee, my son; be slow and sure, and you will be sure to get on." He did get on; for was he not one of the feelers of that huge polypus in society, the Slowbys? Ways of making money, which other men had diligently sought in vain, discovered themselves to him; places were conferred on him, and legacies left him, for no one reason that could be discovered, except that he seemed indifferent to such matters, and latterly became so wealthy, that he did not require them. He was slow in marrying; not entering the "holy state" till he was forty. He did not wed a fortune: no! he rather preferred a woman of good expectations: and these were, of course, realised,—the money came "slow and sure." He lived to a good old age; but death, though slow, was sure also; and he at length died, leaving two sons: on one he bestowed all his wealth; the other, my luckless self, he left a beggarly dependent on an elder brother's bounty. The fact of the matter was, I had too much vivacity to please so true a Slowby as my father; while James was a man after his own heart: and, perhaps I had circulated a little too much of the old gentleman's money in what he strangely called my "loose kind of life;" but which I only denominated "living fast." He might have confessed that I was not altogether selfish in my pleasures. I often made my father most magnificent presents; and though, perhaps, he ultimately had to pay the bills, the generosity of the intention was the same.

The following letters were written just before our worthy parent's death, by his two sons. James was at the paternal mansion in Square, I at a little road-side public-house about four-andtwenty miles from Newmarket. I must premise that I was thus far on my way to London, in answer to my brother's summons; but, at" Ugley" over the post-chaise went-a wheel was broken, and so was my left arm. The post-boys swore it was my fault, because I had not patience to have the wheels properly greased; and I, because it was my misfortune to be obliged to delay my journey till the mischief was repaired-I mean as regards the WEAL of my arm, not the wheel of the chaise,-for, had I been able, I would rather have ridden one of the post-horses to the next stage, than not have pursued my route.

Y

Square. "MY DEAR BROTHER,-Your father requests that you will take an early opportunity of coming to town, as he is supposed to be on his death-bed. His will only awaits your arrival to receive signature. Should you solemnly promise not to dissipate money as you have heretofore done, he will leave you a gentlemanly competence. Dr. Druget is of opinion that our father may live till Sunday next; so, if you are here at any period before that date, you will be in sufficient time for the above-mentioned purpose.

"Your affectionate brother,

JAMES SLOWBY."

"DEAR JIM,-You might think it wise to delay my seeing our dear father, but I did not!-so started at once,-double-fee'd the post-boys, double feed for the horses,-away I bowled, till off came the wheel at Ugley Here I am, with a broken arm. Tell my father I am cut to the quick that we may never meet again. I'll promise any thing he likes. I now really see the folly of being always in such a devil of a hurry; particularly in spending money, paying bills, and that kind of thing: say that I will now for ever stick by the family motto, slow and sure.' Yours in haste,

"RICHARD SLOWBY.

"P.S. I send my own servant to ride whip and spur till he puts this in your hands; he will beat the post by an hour and a half, which is of consequence.'

This latter epistle never reached its destination,-my poor fellow broke his neck at Epping; and, as the letter was despatched in too great haste to be fully directed, it was opened and returned to me by the coroner in due course of post.

I did not get to town till long after the death of my father. The will signed at last, my absence being unaccounted for, gave my brother the whole property; nor did he seem inclined to part with a shilling. A place in the T-, which the head of our ancient house, Lord Snaile, had bestowed on my father, and still promised to keep in the family, might yet be mine,-I was his lordship's godson, and had a fair chance for it; but the now Sir James Slowby, second of the title, and worthy of the name, would not withdraw his claim as eldest born.

"I won't move in the matter, Richard," said my slow and sure brother; "but if my lord gives me the offer, I will accept it. I am not greedy after riches, Heaven knows; but it would be tempting Providence not to hold what is put into my possession, nor freely take what is freely given. His lordship has requested, by letter, that we both wait upon him in Curzon Street, no doubt about the appointment; he makes mention of wishing to introduce us to the ladies, after the despatch of business.' Our cousin Maria used to be lovely as a child, and, though not a fortune, may come in for something considerable, ultimately."

Such was my brother's harangue. Sick of his prosing I left his house, comforting myself that I had, at least, as much chance of the appointment as he had; nor was I altogether without my hopes of supplanting him with Maria, though he might be thought worthy of wedding her at Mary-le-bone; and I, even with her own special licence, would have to journey on the same errand as far as Gretna.

I dined that day at Norwood with an old schoolfellow. At his house I was to pass the night, and on the morrow, at two o'clock, my fate was to be decided. On this eventful morning I was set down in Camberwell by my friend's phaeton. I had seen the Norwood fourhorse coach start for town long before we left home, and had given myself great credit for not allowing it to convey me, that I might have from thence been enabled to intrude on Lord Snaile's privacy an hour or two before I was expected. But I recollected I had annoyed his lordship on more than one occasion in a similar manner, and I seriously resolved that I would no longer mar my fortunes by my precipitation. It was now, however, within two hours of the time of appointment; my friend's vehicle was not going any farther, and I might, at least, indulge myself by reaching Oxford Street by the quickest public conveyance. Omnibusses had just been introduced on that road; and the Red Rover, looking like a huge trap for catching passengers, was drawn up at the end of Camberwell Green. "Charing Cross, sir!"-" Oxford Street, sir !"-" Going directly, sir!" was music to my ears, even from the cracked voice of a cad, and in I unfortunately got; and there did I sit for ten minutes, while coaches innumerable passed me for London. Still I preserved my patience, firm in my good resolves. At length another Westminster omnibus drove up.

"Are you going now; or are you not?" said I, very properly restraining an oath just on the tip of my tongue.

"Going directly, sir-be in town long before him, sir," said the cad. pointing to the other 'bus, for he saw my eye was turned towards it.

At that moment a simple-looking servant-girl with a bandbox came across the Green, and a fight commenced between the conducteurs of the rival vehicles for the unfortunate woman, in which she got not a little pulled about. The Red Rover, however, won the day; and glad enough was I when we started, at a rattling pace. But my pleasure was of short duration.

"Where are you going?" asked an old woman opposite me, who knew the road, which I did not.

"Going to take up, ma'am," said the cad. "We shall be back to the Green Man in ten minutes if you 've left any thing behind." "Where is my bandbox?" said the girl.

"I knows nothing about it, not I; I suppose it went by the other 'bus if you arn't a-got it. Why did you let it out of your own hands, young 'oman? That 'ere cad is the greatest thief on the road."

The girl began to cry, and declared she should lose her place; and I to swear, for I thought it very likely I should lose mine. But we at length once more passed the Green, and tore along at the rate of ten miles an hour, till we set down passengers at the Elephant and Castle. Reader, do you happen to know a biscuit-shop occupying the corner of the road to Westminster, opposite the aforesaid Elephant and Castle? There it was, the Red Rover drew up, and the cad descended to run after a man and woman, who seemed undetermined whether they would take six-pennyworth or not. My patience was now quite exhausted. A four-horse Westminster coach was just starting across the way, and, determined to get a place in a more expeditious conveyance, I dashed open the door of the omnibus just. as the conducteur's "all right" again set the carriage in motion; he,