Trying To Change A Sovereign.

blackened barrel , and smelling of recent discharge . " It was smohin' when it was given to me , " A . roars through the railings to the rally ing soldiers , looking eagerly behind as if to identify the individual who hacl thus enfeoffed him ; the sturdy working-man in the crowd ; half withdrawing as if bashful and ashamed of sudden notoriety , half advancing as if possessed of a curiosity too strong to be overcome , the idle artisan gazer at Royalty ' s gay progress who

hacl wrenched that weapon and its fellow hot from the wretch ' s hand ; he , frantically terrified little creature , whom the police drag with great difficulty through the narrow opening , closed by main force against the pressure of the indignant people by the guard within , pushed to in the faces of the roaring crowd whom the sentries without , strive , with crossed muskets , to force back from the iron barriers . Through this grille come the shrill screams of the women— "Monster ! "—the term was probably suggested by the remembrance of the infamous Renwick Williams , who , in 1790 , was convicted at the Old Bailey , of cutting ladies' dresses and wounding the fair wearers—innocent

ancl unsuspecting promenaders of London thoroughfares—in a peculiar and revolting manner , fifty years before ; but cockney criminal traditions are long-lived . "Monster ! " " Wretch ! " " Fiend ! " " Hanging ' s too good for him ! " " He'll be drawn and quartered ! " "Good job too ! " "I'll go

and see it for one ! " Then for- a background of sound you have the - hoarse adjurations of themen— "Kill him , guards !" " Bay ' net him on the spot ! " " Shoot him !" "Yah ! yah ! " "Why don't you order ont a firin' party , Cap ' en ? there ' s a nice brick

wall there , jist ' andy ! " "Cuss 'im , coward ! " ' and many other cockney imprecations . The piteousl y imploring object of this emphatic denunciation clings to his disgusted captors as his most trustworthy protectors . Do you want to know what he looked like ?

Well , I cannot exactly tell you . There is some idea on record of how he was imaged by the popular mind . It is HABLOT K . BROWNES ' S—our old friend Phiz ' s—sketch

of him from the engraving representing the interior of Mrs . Jarley ' s waxwork show , where dear little Nell , wand in hand , is describing the effigies . * Observe the white apron and pewter pot , accessories obviously intended to convey some connection with the licensed victualling trade . I think that on this memorable evening the bemauled potboy must have looked something like this . Well , he is hurried across the quadrangle ancl out , still in close custody of course , by another gate . By some artifice the attention of the mob is

distracteddiverted in another direction , and there is no longer any physical impediment to the stripling being " run in " to the Gardener Street Police Station , where he is presently charged before the inspector on duty—What with ? What had the trembling ancl whining figure been doing ?—the inspector says " up to ? " Throwing stones ? Breaking clown the branches of the trees ? Picking , or attempting to pick , promenaders' pockets ? Smashing ? f Well , something like it . Time was , not so very long before , when counterfeiting the king ' s coin , you know , or endeavouring to pass it as current , was a matter of High