Volume 25 — MRS. JANE GIMLET ON "STRIKES."

"Yeast Lane, Grinnidge, twenteseckundnowemberhatinfiftethre.

"Honnerd Mistur Punch,

"Umbly thankin u for puttin of my last in blak an wite, wich it were red in our lane an give grate satisfakshun, i make so bold as trubbel u wuns more. In coorse, Surr, the prise of coles cant be unbeknown to u, wich alone in this bitter wether is bad enuf, speshully to wan like me as takes in a litel washin wich i will be appy to get up yours at a shillin a dozzen, ceptin shirts an tabul linen, an have a good dryin ground an no washin powders, wich is a destruction to fine fronts, used, but am in consekens very subjick to goin out in the dryin ground without my bonnet, an ave the plumbago an Asiatick panes in my hips werry bad. To such as me dere coles is bad enuf, but wen they cum upon the quartern lofe at ninepenshapeny, dips at hatepens, wich may seme a lite matter, but is not, and all other things risin too for cumpany's sake, it makes me wunder how Jon an me an our siks shall hever get hover our merry Krismas and appy new yere, and the frost an starvashun an all the hother complemens of the seeson. An so the hother hevenin as me an Jon an our siks was all in bed afore our husiwal time, a goin to try if we could dreme of a warm fire an a bit of supper wich as dremes mostly goes by contrairies we wos werry like to do, I sez to Jon sez I, Wot makes coles so dere? Is it the Lord Mare a fetherin of his nest by taxin of em, an callin it his dooty? If wun of his dooties is taxin pore peepul's coles, I wunder wot the others is, I sez, or air the Turks an Rooshans a goin to fite by steme? I sez, not that i thort so, but i wanted to cheer up Jon who were terribul cast down, poor feller!

"No, sez Jon, it haint. Colliers have struk work and coles is riz accordin. Then, i sez, its a burnin shame an i wont abear it. It haint no ways strange that Turks an Rooshans who air heathens born should squabbel and fite, an raise the price o' bred for they air savages an 'tis their natur so,' as Doctor Wotsisname sez in the him, but that sum of our hone pore peepul as ave shared the bred of afflikshun with hus, wen their worn't too much to share neither, an nose wot our sufferins must be, should go an raise the price of coles upon hus, is agin all natur. But, sez Jon, colliers ave struk for wages an u cant blame them for that. Indede I do Jon, sez I, an I spoke hup for I new Jon an his mates wos thinkin of a strike. Indede I do, Wot good did strikes hever do the pore? Tisnt honely in coles Jon as strikes is goin on, but in hother trades, and in hall on em tis the men and their wives an children an not the masters as suffers. If the masters wanted the men werry much as they wood if trade wos brisk they wood ave riz wages without a strike, but hoffen an hoffen a strike helps masters to get rid of men they don't want, but wouldn't like to turn hoff. Strikes makes coles dere, and likewise heverything helse as the men gives hover makin. But who gets the hextra price of the coles and the factory goods? Why the masters that larf at the pore fules of men that air takin bred hout of their famlies mouths and hout of hour mouths too, to put it hinto theirn. But the men, Jon, gets nothin by a strike, but time to lounge about publicks, an spend their litel savins an spout their close an things, an drors on their club till they brakes it, and praps jines a riot an brakes the winders or the lor, an so gets theirselves into prizzen, an their families into that ouse of bondage the workus. An here I could speke no more for cryin, but woke our siks wich cried too, speshully litel Tomee, our heldest, as ave a broken chilblane, and air frakshus, an so we cried hourselves to slepe, an I ope u will print this letter that peepul may see were a strike falls hardest, and take warnin, tho it be from ure umbel chareoman.

"Jane Gimlet."

"Good" of the Gibbet.

A miserable Creature stole a watch under the gibbet at the late hanging. Alderman Humphery, on the Bench, said—"You came out to witness the execution of a fellow-creature, but it does not appear to have done you any good." How odd! Certainly, no good: for the thief, with his hand upon the watch, only thought of time, the hangman vainly preaching eternity.

When!—When a woman listens to you, she is criticising you.

"Please Marm, yer Bonnet's comin' off! Pitch us a Copper for telling yer."

SCENES AT THE JUDGES' CHAMBERS.

The "grandeur of the law," however obvious it may be when represented by ermine (at a guinea a yard) and horsehair (at fifteen shillings a pound) in Westminster Hall, is certainly not very adequately supported at the Judges' Chambers. These judicial tenements are situated in the vicinity of Clifford's Inn, and are, every afternoon, the rendezvous of much of the riff-raff of the attorneys' offices—for any seedy clerk is considered qualified to "go before the Judge" at Chambers.

Even the Judge himself appears to adapt his costume to his company, for the scarlet robe is usually superseded by the paletot, and those who see dignity in the full-bottomed wig look for it in vain in the brown scratch or the napless gossamer. The whole affair has the aspect of a crowd just rushed out of Holywell Street, or preparing to make an excursion to the Minories—an idea to which the abundance of Caucasian noses lends encouragement.

AN IMPORTANT NOTE AND QUERY.

According to the return moved for by Mr. Hume, we find that, including Porters, and Gentlemen to Great Seal, Sealer and Deputy Sealer, Chaffwax and Deputy Chaffwax, (what on earth is a Deputy Chaffwax???) Clerk of the Hanaper, and Deputy Clerk of the Hanaper, Ushers, Heralds, Garter Kings at Arms, Purse-bearers, Marshals, Lord Chancellors, Engrossing Clerks, Attorney-Generals, stamps, taxes, and other equally necessary and indispensable persons, places, and things—the making of a Baron is done for the trifling charge of £420. Thanks to Mr. Hume, we are put in possession of this Hume-orous document. But the most important question to an Englishman remains unsolved; and Mr. Bull requests us to make inquiries, whether it will cost him this great sum before he can make his appearance at the Royal table on Christmas Day next, as a Baron of Beef?

A Talleyrandism.—The worst form of borrower is he who borrows with the intention of repaying, for you know he intends to borrow again.