Take a consummate puppy—­M.P.s preferable (as they are generally the softest, and don’t require much pressing)—­baste with self-conceit—­stuff with slang—­season with maudlin sentiment—­hash up with a popular publisher—­simmer down with preparatory advertisements.  Add six reams of gilt-edged paper—­grate in a thousand quills—­garnish with marble covers, and morocco backs and corners.  Stir up with magazine puffs—­skim off sufficient for preface.  Shred scraps of French and small-talk, very fine.  Add “superfine coats”—­“satin stocks”—­“bouquets”—­“opera-boxes”—­“a duel”—­an elopement—­St. George’s Church—­silver bride favours—­eight footmen—­four postilions—­the like number of horses—­a “dredger” of smiles—­some filtered tears—­half-mourning for a dead uncle (the better if he has a twitch in his nose), and serve with anything that will bear “frittering.”

A SENTIMENTAL DITTO.

(By the same Author.)

Take a young lady—­dress her in blue ribbons—­sprinkle with innocence, spring flowers, and primroses.  Procure a Baronet (a Lord if in season); if not, a depraved “younger son”—­trim him with ecarte, rouge et noir, Epsom, Derby, and a slice of Crockford’s.  Work up with rustic cottage, an aged father, blind mother, and little brothers and sisters in brown holland pinafores.  Introduce mock abduction—­strong dose of virtue and repentance.  Serve up with village church—­happy parent—­delighted daughter—­reformed rake—­blissful brothers—­syren sisters—­and perfect denouement.

N.B.  Season with perspective christening and postponed epitaph.

A STARTLING ROMANCE.

Take a small boy, charity, factory, carpenter’s apprentice, or otherwise, as occasion may serve—­stew him well down in vice—­garnish largely with oaths and flash songs—­boil him in a cauldron of crime and improbabilities.  Season equally with good and bad qualities—­infuse petty larceny, affection, benevolence, and burglary, honour and housebreaking, amiability and arson—­boil all gently.  Stew down a mad mother—­a gang of robbers—­several pistols—­a bloody knife.  Serve up with a couple of murders—­and season with a hanging-match.

N.B.  Alter the ingredients to a beadle and a workhouse—­the scenes may be the same, but the whole flavour of vice will be lost, and the boy will turn out a perfect pattern.—­Strongly recommended for weak stomachs.

AN HISTORICAL DITTO.

Take a young man six feet high—­mix up with a horse—­draw a squire from his father’s estate (the broad-shouldered and loquacious are the best sort)—­prepare both for potting (that is, exporting).  When abroad, introduce a well-pounded Saracen—­a foreign princess—­stew down a couple of dwarfs and a conquered giant—­fill two sauce-tureens with a prodigious ransom.  Garnish with garlands and dead Turks.  Serve up with a royal marriage and cloth of gold.