A Plated Article.

THE War in the Plate is by no means so small an affair as our old friend the Storm in a Teapot. It was announced in the House of Commons the other night that neither of the belligerents had asked for mediation. It is evidently a case of war to the knife-in which, under the circumstances, the fork ought to be included. One would fancy, too, that hostilities in the Plate would give employment to the spoon, but it is to be hoped that the latter, being a stirring character, will not be placed in a position injurious to the rest of the service which as a dinner service, naturally expects to get its desserts.

Hints for Amateur Horticulturists.

SPORTING INTELLIGENCE. OPENING OF THE NEW SEASON AND THE FIFTH VOLUME OF THE NEW SERIOUS.

"That old man eloquent."-JOHN MILTON. Sonnet to the Lady Margaret Ley. BELGRAVIA.

SUBSCRIBERS ALL!-This is an occasion on which I prefer addressing of myself to you all, direct, instead of through the usual intermediacy of my good and gifted young friend, our noble and respected Editor, than whom I am sure a person more thoroughly kind at heart though perhaps a little too fond of writing me sarcastic letters not suited to my period, and making me feel nervous in my inside.

We stand, gentlemen, for such I will venture to call you, on the brink of a new volume, and, which it may well be called, by way of a joke, a horsepicious occasion. It is only natural that ye shouldest wish for a few familiar words of greeting from one who has now been your Prophet for two revolving years, and was previously employed much more respectable.

It has been said of SHAKESPEARE (and whom a namesake of his was first favourite for the Liverpool Grand National) that he was master alike of smiles and tears, and rules equally over the hearts of old and young. The same remark may fairly be applied to NICHOLAS, and perhaps, to NICHOLAS alone amongst all the Sportive Writers of the present day, than whom, though they may be very worthy fellows in their way, yet I would metaphorically, lick any one of them off his head with my right hand tied behind my back, though it may seem vanity glorious such for to say. And they know it, every man-jack of 'em! THE CHARM OF NICHOLAS FOR THE YOUNG.

The charm of NICHOLAS for the young is, that he, himself, retains so much of the innocence and of the bounding boyishness which used to please my dear mamma, now gone. Every youth in Great Britain, and likewise our terrestrial colonies, knows that in spirit NICHOLAS is as young as himself and when I say "in spirit," I do not mean to speak of the Prophet as though he were a nasty preparation in a bottle, nor yet as if he were far gone in drink, which, upon my sacred word of honour, gentlemen all, is at the present moment not the case, he having had nothing to speak of yet this morning beyond a few glasses of sherry wine; what the Prophet intends to convey-not as he is in the habit of carrying parcels, or such-is that his heart is still fresh and gay, and "good for any game you like, my boys," like Champagne Charley in the song, which a man outside is at present grinding it on his organ, and I wish he would leave off.

THE CHARM OF NICHOLAS FOR THE OLD.

The charm of NICHOLAS for the old is his wisdom, his leariness, his knowledge of the world and its ways. Why, bless you, I am sometimes almost terrified to think how much I do know! If I was to write down in a book, or put it into a play like SHAKESPEARE did, all the queer things I have seen on the turf, why, gentlemen, it would be unfit for publication, and hissed off the stage the first night. Society, as at present constituted, couldn't stand it. It would be too true! The wickedness, the recklessness; the downright dishonesty which have from a police-magistrate, though those gentlemen are tolerably familiar long been associated with my favourite pastime, would draw a shudder with the desperate iniquity of the human heart. Upon my conscience, gentlemen, and it is the best security I have to offer, the turf really seems to me to get worse and worse, more and more degraded every season. Such being the case, I hope to keep you well informed concerning all its movements, in which, as true-born Englishmen, you naturally take a deep and sympathetic interest.

During the coming season it is not improbable as I shall visit Paris, and if so, I promise to hang about all the French stables, and send you any news as I may pick up.

When the summer comes, you will find me at my old place at LORD'S Cricket Ground-not precisely in the Pavilion, for the M.C.C. have still declined to elect him, but yet talking on the friendliest terms with the secretary, MR. FITZGERALD, perhaps over a pot of stout.

In a few weeks, if ye keep a good look out, ye may descry my fine old form at Putney; but I shall not tell you at present whether I intend to stay at the Oxford "White Lion," or the Cambridge "Star

to it.
You must take your cues when to plant your peas.

It is not always that the produce of lawns (s) leaves a bishop-rick of hay.

A sharp speech will not cut grass though you may consider it a

bon mow.

"What a falling-off was there

MISS MENKEN is improving herself, we learn from a contemporary, in French elocution with a view to appearing in a speaking rôle in Paris. This will be a more pleasant performance than the rolls she has lately had on the French stage owing to her horse's falling.

the day of the race, look out for the Old Man, my boys, and give him a cheer after his severe indisposition.

Finally, Knurr and Spell will continue to have that attention paid which the noble and familiar old game have always received in these delightful columns. NICHOLAS.

"I've Schvear'd off!"

A REUTER'S telegram from Berlin informs us that :"PRINCE FREDERICK CHARLES has returned from Schwerin." We are glad to hear it, and hope he will not again resort to the profane practice.

MEN WE MEET.

BY THE COMIC PHYSIOGNOMIST.

SOME ENGAGED MEN.

specimen of his class, that they are infinitely less faithful-infinitely more Don Giovanni-fied in their moral character-than the apparently happy-go-lucky gentlemen who, giving no cause for distrust them-( selves, are less prone to suspect its existence in others. If the C. P. were engaged, he would be a happy-go-lucky lover, maidens. Here is a gentleman who is going to and, the C. P. regrets to say that he has marry for love. He is an old nobleman, been a very wicked old nobleman in his day. There was once a day-it's a long while ago when this wicked old nobleman (then a pretty good young nobleman) might have married any one of half the well-born young ladies of his day, for he was a handsome young nobleman, and a rich one too. But he neglected his chances until the black hair had to be replaced by the preternaturally luxuriant wig, and the black whiskers had turned a rich sea green; and now he thinks it is time he were settled, if the title is to go down to any one. So he has induced MDLLE. CORALIE DE LA BRABAZONNE, premiere danseuse of H. M. Theatre, to share his coronet; and a pretty life MDLLE. CORALIE DE LA BRABAZONNE will lead him, the C. P. hopes, trusts, and does verily believe.

THE C. P. often debates within himself the question whether he is a practical man or a theorist. He is, of course, anxious for the reputation of eminent practicability; but, at the same time, he does not wish to deceive himself on the point. He, in common with all thinking men, entertains theories on certain subjects of which he has not had the advantage of practical experience; and his theories on such points are particularly conclusive and indisputable, to his own perceptions. He has never been up in a balloon, but he believes that he could write you as vivid an account of an aerial journey as if he had been the chosen friend of CoXWELL, and the inseparable companion of GLAISHER, from his earliest youth to his present prime. He never happens to have hunted a gorilla, but he believes that M. DE CHAILLU himself could not beat him at a life-like description of that exciting sport. So far he is, of course, a theorist; and so far, every thinking man must be a theorist. But although the C. P. has neither travelled in balloons (he does not count a shilling ascent at Cremorne at the end of a rope), nor hunted gorillas, he has done so many things that other people have not done, that he feels justified in weighing his practicability against his theories, and of giving the verdict in favour of the former. And he is the more reconciled to this conclusion, as he finds that whenever he reduces a theory to practice, the deductions which he drew from the theory are almost invariably overthrown whenever he subjects them to an actual test. He stated in the first chapter of these papers that all that he had thereunto written on the subject of physiognomy was entirely wrong, although he introduced his ridiculous views on the subject with all the fanfarronade and bombast of absolute infallibility. The C. P. is particularly led to the consideration of these matters by the fact that he feels that he is about to treat of a subject of which he has had no actual experience. Two years ago this consideration would not have affected him in the smallest degree, and he would have discoursed on the advantages and the inconveniences of being in a state of probationary matrimony with an engaging assurance which would have carried conviction to the minds of all who had never had a practical experience of a state of betrothal. But he is a wiser man than he then was, and he cannot close his eyes to the fact that he is about to launch his literary bark upon unknown seas. But he has committed himself to the undertaking, and there is no help for it.

Here is a gentleman who is going to marry for money, and the C. P. is afraid that his bride will have a sad time of it. The poor old lady has to supply him with the means of continuing his amiable excesses, and as long as he finds that she is disposed to do this, so long will he con

Bal

tinue a bachelor, and she a spinster. But a day will come when the unhappy old maiden's patience will be exhausted, and he will have no alternative but to link her fortunes with his own. He has but one accomplishment, and that is a capital conjuring trick. He takes a handful of her money and a handful of his bills-he places them together and both disappear.

Here is a jealous lover. The C. P. wishes there were some better word for it than "lover;" but unless he goes to France for it-which he scorns to do-he will not be able to find one. All the expressions which go to describe the condition of a man who is about to be married have become so vulgarized by valentines and cracker-mottoes that they are simply unendurable to a mind that boasts of anything approaching to refinement. İn France they, at all events, have no valentines, which may account for the air of comparative refinement which envelopes any allusion to affectionate relations between man and woman in the French tongue. It is a peculiarity of most jealous lovers, and particularly of the jealous lover whom the C. P. has selected as a

Bas

ao

Bals

The sprightly-looking young man on the reader's left is a gentleman Here are two engaged gentlemen of distinctly opposite temperaments.

who is proud of being engaged, and the dismal-looking gentleman on the right is a gentleman who is ashamed of being engaged. The sprightly gentleman is proud of it because he has not yet had sufficient experience of his position to become aware of its inconveniences; and the dismal gentleman is ashamed of it because he is too selfish a gentleman to perceive its advantages. The sprightly gentleman is never so happy as when he is talking of his bride-elect, and becomes amiably wearisome in the readiness with which he will expatiate on her innumerable advantages to gentlemen who don't happen to be engaged to her. The dismal gentleman, on the other hand, resents any allusion to the tender topic of his approaching marriage as a direct personal insult. The chances are that after half-a-dozen years of married life these two extremes will meet at a half-way-house of amiable indifference to their respective wives and the sprightly gentleman (who will have lost much of his sprightliness) will declare that married life has not turned out to be everything that he anticipated; and the dismal man (who will have lost much of his dismality) will be equally ready to assert that he has found the life of a Benedict not half as distasteful as he expected that it would be.

The C. P. cannot close this chapter without adverting to a theory of his own, that bears upon the best means of securing conjugal happiness. It is that the husband should make a point of giving way to his wife-after a great show of allowing himself to be convinced-upon every point which is rot of the slightest consequence; so will he be able to insist, with apparent fairness, on having his own way in matters of vital importance.

WHY is a butcher-boy like a race for two-year-olds? Because he is a juvenile selling steaks.

e are those famous beauties?

ne for, I'm afraid,

with connubial duties.

remember Town,

ks so intensely dreary,
re my beard was grown,
aiden was a Peri.
radise I thought
1-mall I'd idly saunter,-
lling years have taught,
ly tempora mutantur.

s of martial fame,

s past and future glories,
er honour was the aim
hether Whigs or Tories.
, each man declares

work's non-intervention,
the state affairs

ly-place and coming pension.

monour then from youth,
ipsies talk'd slang lingo,
we told the truth,
swore by Jove or Jingo.
and was fogg'd with beer
synary eating,
tell some stories queer
that wouldn't bear repeating.

t matter? still I'll praise
■year, as a fair new-comer;
ns'd in various ways

s left with each old summer.
bottle round, my lad,

ON linger by his ferry

umper to your dad

ke a night on't and be merry.

ONLY A CABBY!

THE Morning Advertiser relates the story of a Parisian coachma who, having undergone amputation of the tongue for cancer, had t organ replaced by one of India-rubber. "Although he cannot speak the account goes on to say, "he tastes swallows and smokes his pi How he can smoke his pipe after he with apparent enjoyment."

tasted and swallowed it rather puzzles us.

ANY WIFE TO ANY HUSBAND.

My husband! every morn we part,

And my poor heart must bear its trial;
But moments come when tears will start,
And grief no longer brook denial.
And yet I ought, you often say

To try the aid of calmer reason,
Since soon will come the close of day
When purest love will have its season.

Then you will peacefully return,

And war no more our hearts will sever, Then bright your study hearth will burn, And smiles and joys be ours for ever. Then! then, ah! then I'll cease to fret, And on my lips receive your greetings; But, dearest, you will not forget

That little piece of fish from SwEETING'S.

Answers to Correspondents.

ome soon.'

LE LATE, BUT TOO GOOD TO BE LOST. Hater-MRS. SEAKOLE.

G. V. K.-Your acrostic on chignons is declined; no more on the thank you!

E. B.-We really cannot undertake to answer such questions space is valuable.

W. J. P.-Your chignon sketch is too scratchy.

FIRST WHIP ought to have been whipt first before sending halting verse.

If he has, the re SUCKING DOVE, Stead-street, Halifax, says he has "a re amongst his friends as an inventor of riddles."

is not his own, for half the riddles he sends us are cribbed. A. J.-Go on and prosper.

S. E., Cardigan, will doubtless open FUN crying, "Ah "the La
Well, it isn't in.
Porter'-is't-out?"

A POOR PLEADER.-To quote your own line:-
"Echo answered, No!"

We must say ditto to Echo.

C. T. W., Liverpool, sends us a joke of which "some time ago a Did C. T. W. really have the honour of his was an eyewitness." the lamented JOSEPH MILLER? W. H. R., Borough.-" The prices we allow for such contribu S. S., Canonbury, may be a great gun there, but we cannot yours-i.e., rejected ones,-are exactly £0 Os. Od. by inserting his copy.

PICKLES has written nothing worth preserving.

Declined with thanks-C. O. A., Denbigh-place; S. G. G. A. S.; W. P., Harrow; W. M., Whitby; E. G. M.; H. G.; Earnest; Frolic; J. W.; Ben; J. M. L., Edinb Engineer; Your P. D.; E. C., Ipswich; Rad; G. H. B., W. L., Golden-square; R. S., Stoke Newington; C. L. K C. W.; J. Fitz-C., Tenby; J. H. A., Southampton; C. J. R Park; C. W., Maida-hill; E. G. R.; R. E., Manchester; Nen H. N., Kew; G. C., Worcester; Notes; Issabeller; Tuft Mugby; Lancashire Lad; R. M.; L. E. R., Londonderry; C. Subscriber; E. S. M., Oxford; Mercury; O. S.; Phix; Southsea; F. L.; Dominie Ardudidasculos; T. W. F.; Belfast. Islington; C. D.,

THE BRUTES!

SPEAK!"

Second Ditto:-"So HAS MINE!"

FROM OUR STALL.

A CONDENSED adaptation of SAM FOOTE's Liar has been brought out at the Olympic, and promises to run for some time. The piece is well worth seeing, if only as a specimen of the lively dialogue that its clever and unscrupulous dog of an author could write when he chose. The character of Young Wilding fits MR. CHARLES MATHEWS to a nicety. The triumphant pirouette he executes on the exit of each successive dupe is as funny as the famous puppet business in the Game of Speculation. MR. ADDISON represented the dear old conventional father, threatening everybody with a big stick, and apoplectically gasping out, "Zounds, you rascal, I've a good mind to!" But ninetenths of MR. ADDISON's part were inaudible to the folks at the back of the dress-circle. MR. WIGAN, as the valet, and MR. MONTAGUE, as the fine gentleman, did all that was required of them, by revolving gracefully round the centre of attraction, Wilding, junior. MRS. CHARLES MATHEWS looked perfectly fascinating in powder; but the voice was not so thoroughly disguised as the figure in the last scene. The Olympic is giving us exactly the right kind of entertainment just now; and we sincerely hope that it will be a long time before the house relapses into melodrama.

THE revival of A Hundred Thousand Pounds and La Gazza Ladra draws plenty of good houses to the Prince of Wales's. In the comedy, MISS LYDIA FOOTE and MR. F. YOUNGE have succeeded MISS WILTON and MR. DEWAR; and the acting of the piece is as near perfection as formerly. MR. CLARKE appears to have elaborated the part of Pennythorne still more highly in honour of the occasion. MR. HARE'S Fluker afforded no room for further polish. The burlesque-one of MR. BYRON'S very best-goes as well in Tottenham-street as it went in the Strand, thanks to Miss MARIE WILTON, MR. CLARKE, and MR. F. YOUNGE. The lady was received with enthusiasm; we hope that she

VOL. V.

ANTICIPATIONS.

I AM thirty to-day, and my health
Will be drunk at our family party,
Where prophecies touching my wealth

And my fame will be fluent and hearty.
Then Fancy, excited by themes

That are born of the wine and the dinner, May bring back belief in the dreams

That I dreamed as a hopeful beginner.

Ah! my ballads, my songs, how I've yearned
For the time to collect you and edit
A book that perhaps would have earned,
Not a name, but a quantum of credit.
I'd christen it "Sweets for the Sweet,"
Or "The Lyrics and Lays of a Lover;"
And Simmonds's Poems Complete,

Should be printed in gold on the cover.
I have longed for the pleasures that gold
Can procure-and I freely confess it:
(For avarice grows, we are told,

As the ipsa pecunia crescit.)

If I had but a fortune-oh, then

I could finish my course pretty gaily, With lots of the cleverest men

In my circle to dine with me daily.

I should give up my bachelor life

When I met with a girl to adore me : With riches and fame and a wife,

What a path would be open before me!

My bliss would be trebly secure,

And my future unclouded and sunny,

She'd love me for love, I am sure;

And, if not, she could love me for money!

Ode to the North-East Wind.

"WELCOME, wild North-Easter!
Shame it is to see
Odes to every Zephyr,
Not a verse to thee."
So says MR. KINGSLEY,
Who appears to find
Something very bracing
In a North-East wind.
For my part, however,

Ere I'd write an ode
To the vile North-Easter,
Why, I'd see it blowed!

will think no more of abandoning burlesque, for ever so many rolling years. Really the public can't afford it.

MR. WEBSTER's illness has caused some delay in the long-promised production of Lost in London. In the interval, the public had an opportunity of seeing MR. TOOLE in Paul Pry, an opportunity they have not lost, to judge from the crowded houses. MR. TOOLE's performance of the part of Paul Pry is thoroughly humorous, and well deserved the roars of laughter with which it was received. His imperturbable gravity is admirable, and lends great force to his acting, both in this piece and in Mountain Dhu, which may be a good burlesque when viewed from the North, but seemed to us to owe the greater part of its excess to MR. TOOLE's extravagances. It would be well, perhaps, if some of the young ladies who act with him in the burlesque were to take example by his gravity-a giggle is not legitimate business.

B

St. George's (not) for Merry England. THE rich parishes of London, and the parish of St. George's, Hanover-square, among the foremost, are protesting against MR. GATHORNE HARDY's mild step towards the equalization of Poor Rates. They talk about the "confiscation of West-end property for the benefit of East-end property." It is well they should know this is not a question of property but of humanity-if such a word be recognised in the parochial dictionary.

On a Recent Resignation.
AN EPIGRAM BY AN OLD TORY.
To Government I really feel
I cannot give my votes-
For having had a General Peel,
Perhaps they'll turn their coats.