CHAPTER XXVI.
"See yonder beaux, so delicately gay; And yonder belles, so'deck'd in thin array-- Ah! rather see not what a decent pride Would teach a maiden modestly to hide; The dress so flimsy, the exposure such, "twould almost make a very wanton blush.
E'en married dames, forgetting what is due To sacred ties, give half clad charms to view.
What calls them forth to brave the daring glance, The public ball, the midnight wanton dance?
There many a blooming nymph, by fashion led, Has felt her health, her peace, her honour fled; Truss'd her fine form to strange fantastic shapes, To be admir'd, and twirl'd about by apes; Or, mingling in the motley masquerade, Found innocence by visor'd vice betrayed." AN agreeable lounge through the Parks in the morning afforded them an opportunity of recalling in idea the pleasures of the past Real Life in London, of which Tallyho had been enabled to partake, and during which he again signified a desire to change the scene, by a departure at an early period for his native vales, to breathe, as he observed, the uncontaminated air of the country--to watch the wary pointer, and mark the rising covey--to pursue the timid hare, or chase the cunning fox; and Dashall finding him inflexible, notwithstanding his glowing descriptions of scenes yet unexplored, at length consented to accompany him to Belville Hall, upon condition that they should return again in a month.

This mode of arrangement seemed perfectly satisfactory to Bob; and a view of the Panorama and a peep at the Tennis Court would have finished their rambles for the day, but at the latter place of amusement and healthful exercise, meeting with young Mortimer, a further developement of facts relative to Sparkle and his Bride transpired; in which it appeared that they had arrived at their place of destination, and had forwarded an invitation to his brother-in-law to ~405~~ pay them an early visit, and who proposed starting in a few days.
"Well," said Dashall, "we will all go together, and no doubt with our old friend Sparkle we shall be able to endure the unchanging prospects of a country life." "In the Country how blest, when it rains in the fields, To feast upon transports that shuttle-cock yields; Or go crawling from window to window, to see An ass on a common, a crow on a tree.
In the Country you're nail'd, like some pale in your park, To some stick of a neighbour, crammed into the ark; And if you are sick, or in fits tumble down, You reach death ere the Doctor can reach you from town." "Never mind," cried Tallyho, "a change of scene will no doubt be useful, and, at all events, by enduring the one, we may learn more judiciously to appreciate the other." "True," said Tom, "and I shall like myself all the better for being in good company.

But pray, Mr.Mortimer, what do you mean to do at the approaching masquerade ?" "Not quite decided yet," was the reply.
"You go, of course ?" "Certainly--as Orpheus, or Apollo.

But pray what character do you intend to sustain ?" "That's a secret--" "Worth knowing, I suppose--well, well, I shall find you out, never fear." "Time's a tell-tale," said Dashall, "and will most likely unfold all mysteries; but I always think the life and spirit of a masquerade is much injured by a knowledge of the characters assumed by friends, unless it be where two or more have an intention of playing, as it were, to, and with each other; for where there is mystery, there is always interest.

I shall therefore propose that we keep to ourselves the characters in which we mean to appear; for I am determined, if possible, to have a merry night of it." "On the lightly sportive wing, At pleasure's call we fly; Hark! they dance, they play, they sing, In merry merry revelry; Hark! the tabors lively beat, And the flute in numbers sweet, Fill the night with delight At the Masquerade.
Let the grave ones warn us as they may, Of every harmless joy afraid; Whilst we're young and gay, We'll frolic and play At the Masquerade." ~406~~ Tom's observations upon this subject were in perfect accordance with those of.