“Let us look down,” said Asmodeus; “what a wilderness of houses! shall I uncover the roofs for you, as I did for Don Cleofas; or rather, for it is an easier method, shall I touch your eyes with my salve of penetration, and enable you to see at once through the wall?”

“You might as well do so; it is pleasant to feel the power, though at present I think it superfluous; wherever I look, I can only see rogues and fools, with a stray honest man now and then, who is probably in prison.”

Asmodeus touched my eyes with a green salve, which he took out of an ivory box, and all at once, my sight being directed towards a certain palace I beheld * * * *

* * * * *

THE GATHERER.

A clergyman preaching in the neighbourhood of Wapping, observing that most part of his audience were in the seafaring way, very naturally embellished his discourse with several nautical tropes and figures.  Amongst other things, he advised them “to be ever on the watch, so that on whatsoever tack the evil one should bear down on them, he might be crippled in action.”  “Ay, master,” said a son of Neptune, “but let me tell you, that will depend upon your having the weather gage of him.”

* * * * *

  A poacher escaping one morn with his pillage,
  Unexpectedly met with the lord of the village;
  Who seeing a hare o’er his shoulder was thrown,
  Hail’d him quickly, “You fellow is that hare your own.” 
  “My own!” he replied, “you inquisitive prig,
  Gad’s curse, pompous sir, do you think I’ve a wig?”

* * * * *

ORIGIN OF THE PHRASE “TO BOOT.”

Bote or Bota, in our old law books, signifies recompense, repentance, or fine paid by way of expiation, and is derived from the Saxon.  Hence our common phrase “to boot,” speaking of something given by way of compensation.  P.T.W.

* * * * *

OLD SONG.

  “Syr Tankarde he is as bold a wight
    As ever Old England bred;
  His armoure it is of the silver bright,
    And his coloure is ruby red;
      And whene’er on the bully ye calle,
      He is readye to give ye a falle;
  But if long in the battle with him ye be,
  Ye weaker are ye, and the stronger is he,
      For Syr Tankarde is victor of alle.”

  “A barley-corn he mounts for a speare,
    His helmet with hops is hung,
  He lightes the eye with a laughing leere,
    With a carolle he tipps the tongue—­
      And he marshals a valyant hoste
      Of spices and crabbes and toaste;
  And the stoutest of yeomen they well can o’erthrow,
  When he leads them in beakers and jugs to the foe,—­
      And Syr Tankarde his prowess may boaste.”