A hussar has recovered the trumpet; he stoops over to the fallen captain, who is rubbing the seat of his injuries: 'I hope your honour is not hurt,' to which the fallen leader replies, 'I am not hurt, upon my honour!' The troopers are riding gaily on, exclaiming, 'Why, our captain needn't a fallen!' [Illustration: MISERIES OF LONDON.] _February 15, 1807._ _Miseries of Travelling; an Overloaded Coach._ Published by R. Ackermann. _February 18, 1807._ _At Home and Abroad._--A domestic interior; the servant is leaving the room with a warming-pan, and a lady, of the developed 'fat, fair, and forty' order, is preparing to go to bed; the partner of her joys, who is more youthful, has dropped his pipe and is sipping a bumper of wine; but, although evidently sleepy, he seems disinclined to follow the lady's example of retiring to rest. _February 18, 1807._ _Abroad and at Home_ is a complete contrast to the previous subject.--A handsome-looking man is reclining on a couch before the fire; on the table by his side are fruit and wine, on his knee there dallies an elegant creature; the lady's maid is figured in the background, regaling herself with drops on the sly. _February 26, 1807._ _Mrs. Showwell, the Woman who shows General Guise's Collection of Pictures at Oxford._ Etched and published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi.--This, like the companion print, bears the initials J. N. Esq. (John Nixon), 1807, but the style of execution is in Rowlandson's marked manner. Mrs. Showwell is a dwarfed, quaint old woman, of good-natured appearance, wearing a cap and hood; she is pointing out the excellences of a collection of old masters with a wand, and in her other hand is held the key of the gallery.[6] _March 1, 1807._ _The Enraged Vicar._ Published by T. Rowlandson, 1 James Street, Adelphi.-- To see them rattle, howl, and tear, By Jove, 'twould make a parson swear, A subject of wanton destruction, which forms a fitting companion to the invasion of the tulip-fancier's flower-beds by irrepressible butterfly-collectors, was published the year following, as _The Enraged Vicar_. In this case the horticultural tastes of the reverend gentleman have led him to turn the grounds of the vicarage into a picture of the most unvarying precision: clipped hedges, chopped borders of box, with yew-trees and evergreens, carved into wonderful imitations of impossible objects, form the passion of his heart. A hunted fox is darting through these wonderful works of art; the hounds are breaking over everything, and the whole field of fox-hunters are riding through the Vicar's boundaries, and pounding their horses over his cherished monstrosities. Judging from the frantic state of the dignitary, the reverse of benedictions seem likely to be invoked upon the heads of the intruders, who are wrecking the results of any amount of misdirected patience 'in less than no time.' [Illustration: THE ENRAGED VICAR.]