Little Britain.

LITTLE BRITAIN .

( Continued from page 402 . ) THERE are two annual events which produce great stir and sensation in Little Britain ; these are St . Bartholomew ' s Fair and the Lord Mayor ' s day . During the time of the fair , which is held in the adjoining regions of Smithfield , there is nothing going on but gossiping and gadding about . The late quiet streets of Little Britain are overrun with an irruption of strange

figures and faces—every tavern is a scene of rout and revel . The fiddle and the song are heard from the tap-room , morning , noon , and night ; and at each window may be seen some group of boon companions , with half-shut eyes , hats on one side , pipe in mouth , and tankard in hand , fondling and prozing , and singing maudlin songs over their liquor . Even the sober decorum of rivate familieswhich I must say is rigidly kept up at other times among

p , my neig hbours , is no proof against this Saturnalia . There is no such thing as keeping maid servants within doors . Their brains are absolutely set madding with Punch and the Puppet Show , the Flying Horses , Signior Polito the Fire-Eater , the celebrated Mr . Paap , and the Irish Giant . The children , too , lavish all their holiday money in toys and gilt gingerbread , and fill the house with the Lilliputian din of drums , trumpets , and penny whistles . ¦

But the Lord . Mayor ' s clay is the great anniversary . The Lord Mayor is looked up to by the inhabitants of Little Britain as the greatest potentate upon earth ; his gilt coach with six horses as the summit of human splendour ; and his procession , with all the Sheriffs and Aldermen in his train , as the grandest of earthly pageants . How they exult- in the idea that the King himself dare not enter the city without first knocking at the gate of Temple Bar , and

asking permission of the Lord Mayor ; for if he did , heaven and earth ! there is no knowing what might be the consequence . The man in armour who rides before the Lord Mayor , ancl is the city champion , has orders to cut down everybody that offends against the dignity of the city ; and then there is the little man with a velvet porringer on his head , who sits at the window of the state coach and holds the city sword , as long as a pike-staff—Od ' s blood ! if he once draws that sword , Majesty itself is not safe !

Under the protection of this mighty potentate , therefore , the good people of little Britain sleep in peace . Temple Bar is an effectual barrier against all internal foes ; ancl as to foreign invasion ; the Lord Mayor has but to throw himself into the Tower , call in the train bands , and put the standing army of Beef-eaters under arms , and he may bid defiance to the world ! Thus wrapped up in its own concerns , its own habits , and its own opinions , Little Britain has long flourished as a sound heart to this great funguous

metropolis . I have pleased myself with considering it as a chosen spot , where the principles of sturdy John Bullism were garnered up , like seed-corn , to renew the national character when it had run to waste ancl degeneracy . I have rejoiced also in the general spirit of harmony that prevailed throughout it : for though there might now and then be a few clashes of opinion between the adherents of the cheesemonger and the apothecary , and an occasional feud

between the burial societies , yet these were but transient clouds , and soon passed away . The neighbours met with goodwill , parted with a shake of the hand , and never abused each other except behind , their backs . I could g ive rare descriptions of snug junketing parties at which I have been present ; where we played at All-Fours , Pope-Joan , Tom-come-tickle-me , and other choice old games ; and where we sometimes had a good old English country dance , to the tune of Sir Roger de Coverley . Once a year also' the