NO. By W. L. Macdonald, Esq., R. N. WHAT a train of reflections are set in motion on the rail-road of inemory by the simple monosyllable, No. Who among the many has not, in his boyish, or by-gone days often repented its too-ready utterance?-we can answer for ourselves: numerous are the instances of self-denial, either from coyness or a mistaken notion of politeness, in which "thank you" has been prefaced with a faltering "No," when we evidently intended "Yes," though resolution failed to bring it forth. How often has this folly been carried to an excess which tended to our own mortification and the risk of offending our host, who vainly attempted to press upon us the good things of this world? A perfect stranger may by accident tread on your corns-he begs your pardon, hoping he did not hurt you: the response is generally "No," though at the time, you are writhing with agony, and wishing the author of your torments in "No man's land." You are travelling in a stage-coach, perhaps in the dog days, with three of the fair sex, neither of whom have any pretensions to special tenuity, or with a waist among them at all definable; with a sweet smile you are asked if you have any objection to the other window being closed as the lady dreads another attack of the tic doloreaux. The appeal is irresistable, you answer with a smiling "No," drawn from the top of your heart, although the heat is already amounting to suffocation, and unfortunately there is No room on the outside. How many of the fair daughters of earth have repented, when to late, the hasty No, which has repaid an ardent attachment? In this matter, however, on an average, the ayes, as they should be, will be found above the Noes. How many men have taken bribes, and while the conscience whispered No,-the extended hand has falsely echoed Yes? A friend of ours, who is now No-more, had such a habit of saying No, that No other answer could be obtained: if you asked him to take a seat, it was, "No, I thank you:" "will you stand?" "No, I thank you :" "good day to you;" "No, I thank you," and so on. We were at a loss to christen him in order to cure this peculiarity some said, call him Mr. No-body: that, we found would never do, for he had a very corpulent body, and consequently, was a great man although of No notoriety. At last it was agreed, as his Alpha and Omega was No, that his cognomen should be No-all; and by its invariable use the habit was event ually eradicated, but whether or not curing, as in many other cases, caused dissolution, deponent knoweth not, farther, than that he soon passed to that bourne whence No traveller returns. We often see No. 1 over a door: figuratively speaking, No one is ever seen at that door, though it may be a gin-palace. Again, if a shop be vacant for any length of time, a board makes its appearance, with this momentous warning,-"Stick No Bills:" surely, the proprietors have no reason to suppose that any person in the three kingdoms, has the least desire to imitate our ancient foes across the channel: Because the French a target make of Phil, We remember once asking a naval officer, a bit of a wag, the reason a man-of-war's boat answered the sentry's challenge with No, No, although going to that vessel? to the best of reasons, said he;-do not two negatives make an affirmative? We were silenced, therefore, lest we should be charged of high treason, the above chorus boasts of three, which, by Lindley Murray and logic combined, constitute a decided negative. The same wag, when about to pass an examination for navigation, &c., applied to Mr. No-rie, a celebrated teacher of the naval sciences, to brush him up,' but found that he reversed his name in his actions, and wanted too much Rhi-no, so politely told him it was of No consequence. No-go, is often made use of by persons, who have not resolution enough to disturb the order of words and go on. It is said that an Irish beggar will not take No for an answer, and the following anecdote bears out the assertion. An officer, who had grown grey in the service without preferment, landing at the cove of Cork, was instantly beset by a host of persevering mendicants, and one old woman in particular followed him through the town, relating a most pitiful tale, and styling him Captain at every sentence. At last, the neglected veteran, worn out by her importunites, exclaimed,"my good woman, I am No Captain," "God bless your honour," she replied, "why you look old enough for an Admiral." No stands God-father to numerous relations, some named No-body and some No-thing, but the former predominate; there is sure to be one of the family found in every house, and there is No-thing evil that he cannot accomplish, whereas, anything good, is sure to find a more tangible author. The Nobook family existed before the flood, for No-body was saved, besides No-ah and his, in the ark, and No-doubt, No-body will see such a flood again. We have seen him in our time set the houses of parliament on fire, blow up the equestrian statue of William III., and last, though not least, refuse to be King himself. If No has No royal blood in his veins, his connection with No-bility cannot be questioned. He is like Napoleon, short in stature, and blunt in manner, and babes yet unborn may tremble at his name as a No-men (an omen) of fear. Finally, we have a No-tion (though No Yankee) you will guess what question that is, to which every one nolens volens, answers No:-you give it up? What does N-O spell? Finale Secundus; little bud, "YOUNG LADY'S MAGAZINE," may No evil come near your first blossoming; may your natal day be auspicious, and No sorrow cloud your dawn of life. We have No fear. THE FIRST DAY OF SPRING. "This is the day that the Lord hath made, we will rejoice, and be glad in it.' O Day of days!-The ancient woods are ringing One rich, one soft, but solitary flute (The Merle's deep tone of love, and languor,) yet Sweetest of days!-The amber sun-light streameth Her joy, her love,-a glad mysterious thing, Most beautiful of Days !-hearts, worn, and weary, M. L. B. NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOURS. THE house on our right hand had stood untenanted for some time, but was at length destined to stand so no longer; to the great joy of my family, it was taken by those "very pleasant people the Chatterly's-our intimate friends,"-of whom we knew nothing; that is, nothing of the ways and means by which they lived,-nothing of their domestic economy, and arrangements. These things, I do not pretend to say, are always necessary to be known of our neighbours, on the contrary, I deprecate a prying, gossipping spirit; but, touching the Chatterly's vouz verrez. Mrs. Chatterly, soon after her satisfactory settlement in her new abode, avowed an intention of "living with us, on the most neighbourly terms," to which hinted proposal, like green geese, we assented; for we did not know till then, that "living with," meant so, in its actual interpretation, as well as in its collateral sense, living upon; nor had we at this period, the most distant conception, of how "a very pleasant family," could be, by an unlucky degree of proximity, metamorphosed into a herd of bores, or how, "the best neighbours in the world," could become the very worst. Mrs. Chatterly it seems, for she told my mother, her daughters told my brother, and her sons told my sisters, and me (none of them could keep their family affairs to themselves, for one half hour), Mrs. Chatterly, I say, was one of those truly to-be-pitied women, who, from adverse pecuniary circumstances, was always swimming in the troubled waters of life; always contending with those billows, which tried to beat her back, when she wanted to go forwards; and always striving to "get on," in life, though, excepting in years, her meritorious exertions scarcely seemed to be crowned with their deserved success. Hard is the fate of women like her, who, born in, and to, a genteel station of life, possess not the means to support it, and yet laudably endeavour so to do, for the sake of their connexions, and their children; with such, the whole of existence is,-a struggle ! Mrs. Chatterly, always a very handsome, joyous hearted, sweet-dispositioned, young female, early in life (for she had married early), became a widow, being left with a numerous family, and losing with her husband, who was a clergyman,almost every penny necessary to the support of this family: how she "muddled on" for years, after these melancholy deprivations, nobody knew, for nobody enquired; whether they fan cied it would hurt their own feelings, or the decayed lady's to pry into her poverty-stricken estate, I cannot take upon myself to decide; but confess, a third reason for their indifference has always struck me as the most plausible, viz. : that Mrs. Chatterly, having soon after her husband's demise, sold her London house, and furniture, and gone into the deep retirement of a cheap, out-of-the-way county, with her children, she became quite forgotten by those metropolitan friends, to whom she could not send by way of reminder, bride-cake, because she did not marry again, nor the country delicacies of poultry, game, honey, eggs, butter, cheese, flowers, and fruit, because she could not afford them. Some years afterwards, however, the ci-devant friends of the handsome widow, most of whom, when she went into retirement, were not too old to be living when she emerged from it, were astonished, and of course delighted, to renew their acquaintance with her in town; she was returned to reside in London, for the express purpose, she said, of introducing (and establishing, but this was an aside), her daughters;-beautiful, shewy, captivating girls too, they are; but none are yet married, and I rather imagine they mar their own matrimonial prospects, by their amiable candour in declaring poverty to be the besetting sin of the family; whilst their extraordinary domestic proceedings as indubitably confirm the fact. Do what they will, however, the Chatterlys are so lively, good-humoured, and delightful, that it is impossible to be seriously angry with them, and I verily believe, that their consciousness of this circumstance, makes them, as our next door neighbours, so irresistibly encroaching and troublesome. Three years have the Chatterlys now resided beside us; and it is difficult to state the series of domestic annoyances we have, during this period, received "all in a neighbourly way," i. e. : per courtesy, through begging, borrowing, prying, peeping, and tattling. Whether they keep in pay (for the express purpose of holding over us, the terrors of espionage) Argus, Peeping Tom, or Paul Pry, I do not know; but certain it is, these our friendly neighbours often know quite as well as ourselves, sometimes better, what we do, or are thinking of doing (servants, by the way, are unconscionable gossips). Should we be meditating a party, the Chatterlys of course are aware of it, as well as of its arrangements, when as yet they are all undetermined by ourselves; and when they apprehend their own exclusion from the same, Mrs. C- no-wise daunted; Mrs. C, I say, who in her superfluity of good-humour never |