By Theodore Hook.
[The following excellent scene is extracted from Mr. Hook's last new novel of Jack Brag, a work full of the author's well-known peculiarities, and radiant with wit and humour. It was published here at the commencement of "the crisis," and fell, still-born, from the press—an unavoidable, but undeserved fate.
The hero's mother, a tallow-chandler's fat and vulgar widow, has married her apprentice, James Salmon, and with her boy-husband and her dashing son, is passing the honeymoon at Lewes, a provincial town in England.]
Jack BRAG and his father-in-law proceeded to the theatre, where Jack, by dint of certain flourishes, secured one of the stage-boxes, which luckily for the gratification of his ambitious heart, had been given up only a few minutes before by a very distinguished country lady, who was unable to occupy it, because her ninth child had been suddenly attacked with scarlatina.
In turning away from the door of the playhouse, Jack was struck by the well-turned figure of an exceedingly smartly-dressed woman, whom by her gait and manner, taken in connexion with the locality, he was induced on the instant to set down in his own mind as one of the actresses. Jack was right; it was one of those fair and fascinating creatures, who, as Gay says of wemen in general,
"... seduce all mankind ;"
but his surprise was inconceivably great when he saw her, the moment she recognised his companion, hasten up and hold out her hand towards him with all the warmth and cordiality of "old friendship."
"Why, Mr. Salmon," said Miss Roseville, "what brings you here?"
"Chance, and a little business together," said Salmon; "twig?"
"I hope you mean to come to the play to night," said Miss Roseville, with one of those looks which it is beyond the power of pen to describe.
"We have just taken a box," said Salmon.
"Where are you staying?" said Miss Roseville.
"At the Star," was the reply.
"Do you stay long "
"No," said Salmon ; "go to-morrow."
"Oh, you naughty thing!" said the lady. "Well good bye, if I don't see you till the evening;-I lodge at the milliner's, just opposite, good bye."
Her departure was a considerable relief to J. S., who was kept in a state of perpetual twitter during the brief parley between them. He would willingly have given five pounds not to have encountered the fair syren while in the society of Brag; and would now have readily given twice as much to insure his silence upon the subject when they got home.
"Why," said Brag, "you seem quite free and easy with that young creachur—who is she?"
"That," said Jim, "is Molly Hogg. I've known her these three years;–she is engaged at one of the Minors, and calls herself, in the bills, Roseville, it sounds better than Hogg;-very good-natured girl."
"She seems so," said Brag, "and no mistake." "I'm sure I didn't think of finding her here," said Salmon : "I haven't seen her now for a good while."
"Uncommon pretty," said Brag. "I suppose I have seen her before—don't recollect, see so many—eh?"
"Well," said Salmon, evidently nervous, "shall we go and do this bill? I'll give you the check; or, if you like, I'll draw it in town to-morrow, and cross it to your banker's—save another stamp—twig And, John—there's no harm in what I'm going to say— only you can do me a favour."
"What is it?" said Brag, "name it, and it's done,— straight up, right down, and no mistake."
"Why," said Salmon, looking uncommonly sheepish; "there's nothing in it—but—I–wish you would'nt say any thing to Titsy about my meeting little Hogg."
