I sometimes speculate as to what little boys at school now-a-days talk about, as to what form the chief subjects of their amusement. It is sadly to be feared, that the innocent and ingenuous ignorance of my school-days has been exchanged for a culpable smattering of sophisticated knowledge, foolishly so called. Oh! who could wish when he calls to mind the days of his boyhood--at least, who that has a particle of romance, the smallest dash of sentiment, in his heart, could wish, that the boys of the present day should be sceptical as to the soothing belief then so prevalent, that the luscious preparation of sugar and peppermint which they eat, is really and truly a portion of "Gibraltar Rock;" or that the "brandy balls," with which they beguile their happy hours, and _clart_ their fingers' ends, are indeed remnants of the lot of those very "Nelson's bullets" which spread destruction on "Egypt, Hafnia, Trafalgar." Some of my readers may perhaps know--I confess my ignorance on this point--what boys now are. Whether a Doudnean tunic and variegated cap of divers kinds of cloth warm the possessor of as much solid understanding, as the honest pepper-and-salt clothes and undoubted beaver hat did in times gone by. I will, however, endeavour to illustrate what boys were in the last generation. And first, you shall agree that they excelled as a body in the inventive faculty. I scarcely need instance Walter Scott--the following story will establish my point without further aid. Let us suppose the scene--a moderate-sized room--with eighteen beds or so in it, and the same number of boys in them, varying in age from eight to twelve, with every variety of nightcap, from the cosey linen one fitting "snod" to the head, and tied well under the chin, to the dignified and manly double cotton with long tuft; these enclosing all the varieties of hair, known as turnips, carrots, candles, &c. "Now Grant," shouts the biggest of the lot, "it's your turn to tell a story to-night--don't be afraid, (he was a new lad,) any thing will do, so fire away, and I'll thrash the first that interrupts him." The youth thus addressed, having evidently prepared his story, begins slowly and argumentatively thus:--"Well, once upon a time there was a mill" (it was considered a solecism to omit a mill or a castle,) "in a great plain--and a family lived there--well--and so there were three men, and they went out one night and walked across the plain--and it grew quite dark;" (here, one of the youngest lads, frightened at the fearful ideas conjured up by the last words, gives a faint sigh;) "and so after a bit they began to feel hungry--and one said Look! there's a light! and they all swore a solemn oath that they would go to where it was, and get something to eat, or else kill one another." (Here evident proofs are given that the greater portion of the audience are deeply interested in the progress of the tale, for various small sighs are heard, indicative either of sympathy