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planet just discovered, his Royal Highness would have evinced "considerable knowledge" of all its plains and mountains, besides a very intimate acquaintance with some of the principal inhabit
THE HEDGEHOG LETTERS.
Containing the opinions and adventures of JUNIHEDGEHOG, cabman, London; and written to his relatives and acquaintance in various parts of the world.
LETTER I.—To Peter Hedgehog, at Sydney.
DEAR PETER,-at last I'm settled at my heart's content. For fifteen years and more, I've been fighting, and punching, and screwing, and doing -the Lord forgive me!-all sorts of mean tricks to be respectable; and now I'm happy, for I've given the thing up. I've got rid of every bit of the gentleman, and drive a cab. Ha! you don't know-you can't think-what a blessing it is to get rid of all cares about what's genteel. It's like taking off fine tight boots, and stretching yourself in comfortable old slippers. How respectability did pinch, and gall, and rub the skin off me, to be sure; but I've done with it. I've given
up the trumpery, for the good, stout, weather-proof character of cabman.
Respectability is all very well for folks who can have it for ready money; but to be obliged to run in debt for it-oh, it's enough to break the heart of an angel. Well, I've gone a good round, and it's nothing but right that I should be comfortable at last. Wasn't all the sweetness of my little boyhood lost in an attorney's office? At a time of life when I ought to have been bird's-nesting, shoeing cats with walnut-shells, spinning cockchafers on pins, and enjoying myself like any other child of my age—there I was half the day wearing out a wooden desk with my young breast-bone, and the other half running about, like a young cannibal, to serve writs: sneaking and shuffling, and lying worse than any playbill, and feeling as happy as a devil's imp on a holiday whenever I "served" my man. Yes, Peter, that I've any more heart than an oyster left me, is a special favour of Providence; for what a varmint I was ! If it hadn't been for the playhouse, I should have been ruined. Yes, Peter, but for the Coburg Theatre, I have no doubt that at this time I should have been a sharp attorney, not able to smell as much as a lucifer-match without the horrors. 'Tis a great place for morals, the playhouse, Peter. As I say, it quite drew me back into the paths of virtue.