The revolution is at an end; and, thanks to the fire-engine, our
old constitution is still preserved to us.
* * * * *
RECOLLECTIONS OF A TRIP IN MR HAMPTON'S BALLOON.
IN A LETTER FROM A WOULD-BE PASSENGER.
My dear Friend.--You are aware how long I have been longing to go up in a
balloon, and that I should certainly have some time ago ascended with Mr.
Green, had not his terms been not simply a _cut_ above me, but several
gashes beyond my power to comply with them. In a word, I did not go up
with the Nassau, because I could not come down with the dust, and though I
always had "Green in my eye," I was not quite so soft as to pay twenty
pounds in hard cash for the fun of going, on
[Illustration: A DARK (K)NIGHT,]
nobody knows where, and coming down Heaven knows how, in a field belonging
to the Lord knows who, and being detained for goodness knows what, for
damage.
Not being inclined, therefore, for a nice and expensive voyage with Mr.
Green, I made a cheap and nasty arrangement with Mr. Hampton, the
gentleman who courageously offers to descend in a parachute--a thing very
like a parasol--and who, as he never mounts much above the height of
ordinary palings, might keep his word without the smallest risk of any
personal inconvenience.
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