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And out of the window he flew like a shot,
For the foot flew up with a terrible thwack,
And caught the foul demon about the spot

Where his tail joins on to the small of his back.

And he bounded away, like a foot-ball at play,
Till into the bottomless pit he fell slap,

Knocking Mammon the meagre o'er pursy Beephglor,
And Lucifer into Beelzebub's lap.

Oh! happy the slip from his Succubine grip,

That saved the Lord Abbot, though, breathless with fright, In escaping he tumbled, and fractured his hip,

And his left leg was shorter thenceforth than his right!

On the banks of the Rhine, as he's stopping to dine,
From a certain Inn-window the traveller is shown
Some picturesque ruins, the scene of these doings,

A few miles up the river, south-east of Cologne.

And, while "saur kraut” she sells you, the Landlady tells you
That there, in those walls, now all roofless and bare,
One Simon, a Deacon, from a lean grew a sleek one,
On filling a çi-devant Abbot's state chair.

How a ci-devant Abbot, all clothed in drab, but
Of texture the coarsest, hair shirt, and no shoes,
(His mitre and ring, and all that sort of thing

Laid aside,) in yon Cave liv'd a pious recluse;

How he rose with the sun, limping " dot and go one,"
To yon rill of the mountain, in all sorts of weather,
Where a Prior and a Friar, who liv'd somewhat higher
Up the rock, used to come and eat cresses together;

How a thirsty old codger the neighbours call'd Roger,
With them drank cold water in lieu of old wine!
What its quality wanted he made up in quantity.
Swigging as though he'd fain empty the Rhine!

And how, as their bodily strength fail'd, the mental man
Gain'd tenfold vigour and force in all four :

And how, to the day of their death, the "Old Gentleman"
Never attempted to kidnap them more.

And how, when at length in the odour of sanctity,
All of them died without grief or complaint;
The monks of St. Nicholas said 'twas ridiculous
Not to suppose every one was a Saint.

And how, in the Abbey no one was so shabby
As not to say yearly four masses a head,

On the eve of that supper, and kick on the crupper
Which Satan received, for the souls of the dead!

How folks long held in reference their reliques and memories,
How ci-devant Abbot's obtained greater still,
When some cripples, on touching his fractured os femoris,
Threw down their crutches, and danced a quadrille.

And how Abbot Simon, (who turn'd out a prime one,)
These words, which grew into a proverb full soon,

O'er the late Abbot's grotto, stuck up as a motto,

44

Who suppes wyth the Deuylle sholde haue a long spoone."

THOMAS INGOLDSBY.

THOMAS NODDY, ESQUIRE.

THE Noddys are a very numerous and ancient family. Garter derived Sir Anthony Noddy, who was seneschal to the Duke of Buckingham, temp Ric. III., from King or Duke Nod, great-grand-son to Phut, ruler of the land of Nod, and who slept with his fathers, after giving his name to the country, in the fifth generation from the Noachic Deluge. Clarencieux could not, however, trace the race higher than to Guy Noddie of Noddington, Beds. one of the first two knights returned to Parliament for that county A. D. 1265. His greatgrandson, Ned Noddy, accompanied Edward the Third in his invasion of Scotland, A. D. 1356, and on the retreat of that monarch was left, as the genealogical tree states, "wounded behind;" meaning thereby that he was left behind, wounded, and without any disparagement of his conduct or courage. This Ned Noddy settled in Ayrshire, and was the founder of the Scotch branch of the family, upon whom was written that famous song by King James the Fourth,

"And we're a' noddin,

Nid, nid, noddin,
We're a' noddin

At oure house at hame."

This branch became extinct in Sandy Noddy of that ilk, who deceased about the time of the Union, having suffered long and much from the musical disorder of the country, (which he used to play to the foregoing tune,) and died without any other issue. Of the Noddys of Ireland little is known, except that a small sept of them settled on the edge of the Pail, or Pale, and, after giving their name to a sort of carriage peculiar to the nation, assumed an Irish title with a great O in front of it, and became, by living in Irish air, very restless and distinguished agitators.

The genealogy of Thomas Noddy, Esquire, is thus limited to the English pedigree, and we find it rich in characters, of worth and dignity. Abbot Noddy was the celebrated churchman for whom Cimabue painted his famous picture of Somnus, son of Erebus and Nox (not now in the National Gallery); and Prior Noddy was dispossessed by Henry the Eighth of the Priory of Sleepsley, valued at the time of its dissolution by that dissolute monarch at the annual sum of thirteen pounds four shillings and threepence. In the cultivation of science the Noddys were equally renowned. Notwithstanding the ridiculous claims of Mesmer, Baron Dupotet, and Dr. Elliotson, it is well known that Professor Noddy was the real discoverer of animal magnetism; the idea of somnambulism having occurred to him on witnessing the effects produced, when, preaching, by his father, Bishop Noddy.* The manuscript revelation and proof of this fact may be referred to in the British Museum. See COTTON, Lib. Jul. Cæs. No. III. 483. Dr. Noddy, author of the "Treatise on Laudanum, with remarks on the cognate qualities of Poppies and Lettuce," was another ornament of the house of Noddy. He was the first after Esculapius to introduce composing

* It was from this holy man and pious divine that assemblies of the clergy were styled Sy-nods.- Vide Archæologia, vol. i. p. 1.

draughts into the system of physic, and it is confessed that no greater improvement has since been made. Of the Noddys who have shone in the legal profession, we shall only mention Justice Noddy, the immediate progenitor of Thomas, than whom a more re. spectable judge never sat upon the bench. He lived to a very old age; and his strong opinion, just before he died, against Mr. Wak-ley, the present M. P. for Finsbury, had great influence in deciding the famous cause in which he was plaintiff. His only son, Ralph Noddy, who held the sinecure office of Clerk of the Peace, having been previously cut off by apoplexy, he was succeeded by his grandson Thomas, only child of the said Ralph, by Margery Lazenby, daughter of Theodosius Lazenby, of Lazenby Hall, Linc. who thus became heir not only to the estate of Noddy-cum-Slumbers, but co-heir to Lazenby i' the Fens.

Our hero was at this period twenty-three years of age, and, but for an accident which happened to him in his infancy, might probably have been a marvellous proper man. But it seems (as we have it from his nurse) that shortly after her confinement Mrs. Noddy took the baby out with her for a drive in the pony chaise, when, unfortunately falling asleep in the heat of the sun, she dropt her poor little son Tom out of the carriage, and one of the ponys trampled upon his neck just before a wheel ran over his body. The child lived, but the consequences were distressing. His head was twisted awry, so that whenever he did or said a silly thing, jocular people pronounced it to be turned; and it was besides so oddly and loosely confirmed upon his neck, that he ever and anon, as it were, involuntarily jerked it down with a wink of his eye, the most unmeaning meaning that ever was seen. On the demise of his grandfather he took possession of the fine mansion built by him on the river Mole, near the Dorking, (originally Darking,-see Doomsday Book,) and resided there during the ensuing summer and autumn. In September and October he attempted the sports of the field; but his exploits in the shooting line were particularly unsuccessful. is true that when birds rose he shut one of his eyes, and presented his piece in their direction; but the unlucky twist generally occurring at the same instant, though he sometimes hit a tree, a turnip, or a gamekeeper, he never hit a hare, a partridge, or a pheasant. In fishing he was a little more prosperous; for if the twitch happened to coincide with the rising of the trout, the contemporaneous motion hooked him to a certainty, and Mr. Noddy had the pleasure of landing some two or three dozen of finny captives from the Mole and the Thames.

But the rural season closed, and the town season opened. Squire Noddy, like other squires, removed to London, and located himself in Dover Street. Henceforward nothing but misfortune befel him. His unhappy peculiarity brought him into endless troubles; and, blest with youth, abundance, and the fairest of prospects, ultimately made him the hero of our tale as the last of the Noddys!

It is necessary for us to recount a few of the incidents and adventures which led to this melancholy issue.

The first public act in which, owing to this cause, he figured, was on the debut of Mr. Otway Marlowe in the arduous part of Hamlet. The public having been excited into due curiosity and expectation by preliminary puffs and paragraphs, Mr. Noddy was but too lucky

in being able to secure a front-seat in the stage-box for the occasion, paying Mr. Munchausen, the lessee, a guinea therefor. And the price was surely moderate when it is considered what an excellent son Mr. Otway Marlowe was, and on that account, how likely to be unpar. alleled in wringing his mother's heart and avenging his father's murder as the Prince of Denmark. Alas! he was never destined to reach those grand points in the play: he was damned by Mr. Noddy in the very second scene with the ghost. At that interesting moment all eyes were turned towards the stage, and, of course, the stage-box, where sat our hero in his conspicuous position. By a deplorable coincidence, the Ghost stood directly between him and Hamlet, who apostrophizing the solid shadow of his hapless papa, in the agony of his grief, and di recting his looks alike to Ghost and Noddy, exclaimed, "why, ay, ah, ah

'If thou canst nod, speak too!'"*

The ludicrous effect was instantaneous, and roars of laughter shook the theatre. It was impossible to restore a tragic sympathy, and poor Mr. Otway Marlowe was the victim of a few unintentional nods and winks. The fuss, complaints, and row the next morning may be conceived by all who are acquainted with theatrical matters. Mr. Noddy was glad to compromise the affair by the payment of one thousand pounds, of which the lessee pocketed eight hundred for the loss incurred by the theatre, and Mr. Marlowe two hundred for the damage he had sustained; and all the newspapers rang with varied accounts of the malignant and unprincipled conduct of an unknown assassin, no doubt employed by the rival management.

Less serious, but hardly less unpleasant, circumstances attended Mr. Noddy's every-day life. When at dinner with a company, threefourths of whom were absolute strangers to him, he would find himself drinking wine with persons to whom he had never spoken, interfering as a third party between each two who were endeavouring to perform the same social ceremony, and interchanging courtesies of the most intrusive and impertinent kind with every person at the table. It was a nod here, and a wink there. "Shall I have the pleasure of wine with you?" said with a tender voice by a lover-looking gentleman opposite to a beautiful girl by his side, would be met by a willing recognition from Mr. Noddy, and his head interposed would meet the adverse glance, and eclipse the fair one's countenance from the proffered compliment. He was obliged to eat of every dish offered to him; for, always appearing to give his assent, the plates were loaded and handed to him by the servants, astonished in their turn at the extraordinary politeness of the guest to themselves.

One day Mr. Noddy strolled into Harry Phillips' rooms in Bond Street, whilst that astute auctioneer was selling a valuable miscel laneous collection of china, jewellery, pictures, and plate. From some previous business at Noddy Grove, on the Mole, his person, though not his habit, happened to be known to Mr. Phillips; and when he began bidding like fury for every article put up, it rejoiced the heart of the seller. Competition was vain. Salesmen, brokers, and Jews, gave up in despair. The hammer descended on lot after lot; till, finally, two lovely figures of Chinese Mandarins The writer hopes to be forgiven for making a Hamlet of Don Juan, or some body else.

were exhibited, and as Mr. Noddy, disliking their appearance and action, quitted the room, they were knocked down to his last nod, for twenty guineas. Next day the wagon-load delivered at Dover Street, astonished his servants, who, in the absence of their master, took in and arranged the china, and the pictures, and the plate, and the jewels, in the best manner they could; but their astonishment was nothing to his own when he discovered that he had purchased these bargains to the amount of two thousand three hundred pounds and five half

crowns.

Shortly after this Mr. Noddy visited the Surrey Zoological Gardens, to witness the eruption of Mount Vesuvius. In the early part of the evening he walked about nodding at the monkeys, who nodded at him in return, and winking at the owls, who very graciously shut and opened their eyes in reciprocating the salutation. Some of the animals leapt more nobly, from side to side in their cages, as he gazed upon and twitched at them whilst the cockatoos on their pegs set up their crests and screeched as frightfully as if they had been perched on the top of the burning mountain. But the worst of all took place as Mr. Noddy was wending his way homeward. By an oversight, not altogether unprecedented in London, an opening to lay down gas-pipes had been left unwatched and unlighted in the street through which he was passing. No wonder that, with a very sidelong nod, he fell into the hole, to which his cries speedily brought the aid of the police. He was extricated in an almost sense. less condition, when these active and skilful persons, observing the twist of his neck, immediately concluded that it was out of joint, and began to pull it straight with all their might and main. The torture of the unfortunate gentleman was extreme, but he had to endure many a lug by the ears ere he could make his benevolent persecutors understand that they were endeavouring to rectify nature, and not accident. He was confined to his bed for a month.

On his recovery Mr. Noddy attended a levee. He was presented to her majesty by the vice-chamberlain, and gave her such a nod and such a wink, as she had not received since her accession, nor will perhaps meet with again during the whole of her reign. What would Lord Melbourne give to be allowed a like privilege? The Court Newsman was specially enjoined not to report the circumstance; but it was the gossip of the maids of honour attendant upon the queen at night, that she could not have been angry with Mr. Noddy, as in truth her majesty herself, on being put to bed, both winked and nodded after the very fashion of that loyal subject.

In the ball-room, it must be acknowledged, Mr. Noddy did not shine. There was a heaviness in his demeanour and a gravity which did not accord well with movements on the light fantastic toe. To Almacks, accordingly, he only went once; and was rewarded for his intrusion by the witty Lady at whom he winked, observing that the sleepy-headed fool was fit for nothing but doze-adoze.

*

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Going down Regent Street one afternoon, our friend met a goodlooking stout lady on the arm of a well-dressed man, who was evinc ing his perfect independence by smoking a cigar. The fashion of the former, and the superior breeding of the latter, could not restrain Mr. Noddy from his usual trick. A stare at the damsel was

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