"'Cause you can. Give me sixpence, and I'll shew him you, and say nothin'--not a word, my lady. Only round here--'tisn't a minute. I'll walk first." Without a thought, I was about to follow the child, when FREDERICK coming behind me, laid his hand upon my arm. "LOTTY, my dear," and without looking at him, I thought I should have dropped at his voice. "FREDERICK!" "Not going to have your fortune told?" and he glanced at the gypsey. "My dear FRED, this, you will remember, is the child that"-- "I know," said FRED, as the gypsey with a caper took to her heels. "I know; but LOTTY, my love, you have surely forgotten an old friend? My bridesman, TOM TRUEPENNY." It was MR. TRUEPENNY. He had come to Brighton upon business; FRED saw him as he alighted from the coach. "He didn't want to break upon us," said FRED: "for you know what a shy, modest fellow TOM is; but I said you'd be delighted to see him." "Delighted, indeed, FRED," said I. "Delighted, indeed," stammered MR. TRUEPENNY, colouring like a girl. "He has a little business to do, but has promised to join us in the evening," said FRED. "Oh, certainly, with pleasure--in the evening," said TRUEPENNY. "You'll not fail, TOM?" cried Fred, holding up his finger. "Depend on my punctuality," replied MR. TRUEPENNY. And then--strangely confused as I thought--he bowed to me, and hurried off. "He's an excellent fellow," said FRED. "It was very lucky that you met him, FRED," said I. "_Very_," answered FRED. * * * * * THE IRRESISTIBLES; OR, HORSE GUARDS (BLACK). It is to be hoped that all those cab-drivers who are dissatisfied with the Hackney Carriage Act will enlist in the British army. A regiment of these fellows would carry everything before them; no troops whatever could stand their charge. * * * * * NEWSPAPER PROMOTION.--The "ENORMOUS STRAWBERRY" to the columns of the provincial newspapers, _vice_ the "ENORMOUS GOOSEBERRY", broken for incapacity. * * * * * WHAT I SAW, HEARD, AND THOUGHT AT CHOBHAM. (_By one who has mentally been there_). I saw the Light Cavalry so heavily accoutred that it seemed a perfect farce ever to have ordered them on "active" service. I saw the Infantry dressed in such torturingly tight coats, that it appeared a bitter mockery to bid them "stand at ease:" and I thought that what made them smart on parade must make them anything but smart in actual service. I saw the troops generally learning to stand water as well as to stand fire: and I thought a drenching shower rather seemed to damp their military ardour. I thought that most of the regiments, in attacking a sham enemy, would be attacked by a real one in the shape of rheumatism: while many a brave fellow who never owned to a defeat would return to his quarters completely weather-beaten.