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MRS. BROWN AND THE CLOTHES MAN. on, I was wrong to speak to sich a low character.” He says, “Go on

yourself, you wile old fish-fag.” He says, “I remember you now. I dd say as I never would sell nothin' to them Jews agin as goes Why, if you ain't old Mothe« Bossy, as was transported for robbing a-peddlin' about, for though I've know'd them fair dealin' in their a sailor down Ratcliffe-highway. You've come back, 'ave you ?" ways, yet the way as that last one served me was downright swindlin, Law, I thought I should have dropped, for there was a parcel of though I am sure a more 'ono abler old party never lived than old low-lived characters all round as begun a.groanin' at me. So I says, Mrs. Isaacs, as I'd ’ave trusted with untold gold, and did used to be “My name ain't no Mother Bossys. I'm a respectable woman, and in the second and line, and, I do believe, give a fair price for many never lived in Ratcliff-highway, tho' I certainly did 'ave a aunt as things as I 'ad by me as once belonged to my missus, as said I was to did.” “Ah!" he says, “all in the gang, no doubt. Why," he says, 'ave 'er clothes through a-livin' with 'er out Limehouse way, as 'ad a “I do believe you're the old woman as 'tices children up courts and cottage, and 'er son, a captain, and me with 'er till 'er death, not as I strips 'em." ever got what she meant me to 'ave through that Mrs. BLISeet and If you'd 'eard the yell as them fellars give, and a wild-lookin' dirty 'er one-eyed daughter, as was friends to Mrs. Edges, as were my wretch of a woman says, “Let me get at 'er," for she says, “ I'm missuses name, and reglar plunderers, as I caught 'em myself at 'er sure she 'ad a 'and in takin' my Tommy's boots," and if she wasn't adrawers, and if that Mrs. BLISSET didn't ’ave the face for to come to goin' to rush at me, as I could see were in liquor. the 'ouse the day of 'er funeral with Mrs. EDGEs own front on, as she What to do I didn't know, and quite give myself up, for I were must 'ave stole off the lookin' glass, where it was 'angin' when she that wedged in that I 'adn't even got free use of my umbrella, but I was took, and many other things missin', as I told the captain on my- got my back agin a street door as to keep them wretches at bay, leastself, but 'im that easy as he wouldn't make that old woman disgorge ways, would ’ave done so, only all of a sudden it opened through a not even the front, as didn't become 'er, though new, and only come little gal a-comin' out, with a jug in 'er 'and, and in I went flop on my 'ome from the 'air-dresser's two days afore she was took ill, in a blue back in that passage. box, and never on 'er 'ead but one evenin' as she 'ad friends to tea, I don't know what would 'ave been the end on it if I'd not 'ad the and only lay three weeks, through water a-settin' in on the chest, as presence of mind for to say, "Fetch Mrs. OBBS, as lives in Great I know'd it would when I see 'er ankles, as was mill posts for size, and Prescott-street, as known as I'm a respectable woman," for all them could 'ear 'er breathe down in the back kitchen with the doors shet. wagabones round the door kep a-sayin' I was a old thiof.

Well, as I was a-sayin', Mrs. Isaacs she gave a fair price and paid "Do you know Mrs. OBBS ?" says a wery nice speaking woman, as me 'onest, and certainly I never did taste anything more delicious than proved to be the mother to the broken jug. “Yes," says I: "and been a bit of almond puddin' she brought me, as she gave me the receipt acquainted over five-and-twenty years.' on as I've got somewheres, tho' not a thing as I'm likely for to want T'hen says she, “ Come in," and banged the door in the face of them thro' bein' only used at a weddin'.

blackguards, as knocked and rung for a minute or two, and then I do like their pickled 'errin's, likewise their passover cakes, as ’ave lewanted, no doubt, through the police. took tea with 'er myself their 'oliday times, as is werry singler in It took a good 'arf-'our for to set me to rights, and as to my welwet their ways, partick'ler in wearin' their 'ats in the 'ouse of a Friday cape, it was dreadful to see. evenin' as is their Sunday, and, bless you, wouldn't stir the fire nor I'd 'ad my redicule cut off my arm, and my umbrella was gone, and snuff a candle was it ever so. As of course is right if that's their I never could ’ave gone on Mrs. Obbs's if it 'adn't been for that ways, as every one did ought to act up to what they professes. good woman, as was named WALLCOT, a-goin' with me, for I was

But law, I'm a-talkin' of twenty year ago, and things is much afraid of being mobbed. changed everywhere now, and no doubt Jews with the rest.

But law, it come 'ome to that Jew beautiful, for I was a stayin' up 'Ow I come to ’ave anythin' worth sellin' was thro' a gentleman as with my cousin near the Marble Arch, as 'ad a lot of things as she 'ad lodged with me, as went out to Indy and left a 'ole 'eap behind, wanted to dispose on; as the family 'd left behind, and was perquisites as I called in a Jew as kep' a-standin' opposite my parler winder, to the servants, and 'ad left 'em for Mrs. PADWICK to dispose on, a-touchin' 'is 'at that perseverin' as is their characters and brings 'em through a-goin' off to the Continong all of a 'urry. riches no doubt.

It was a eap, and some lovely things, as many a atleman would So I 'as 'im in at last, and show 'im the clothes. “Well,” he says, be glad to jump at. "ten shillin's for the lot.” I say, “Go along with you, why there's a So one mornin' she says to me, “I'm a-goin' to sell all them things, jacket as is good as new, and three white waistcoats.” I eays, “If and a party is a-comin' to look at em, as is the 'Ebrer perswasion." they ain't worth two pounds they ain't worth nothin'.” He saya, ""Oh," I says, “Indeed," and was just a-tellin' 'er 'ow I'd been "Two pounds! Bless the woman, why you'll ruin me." I says, served, a describin' of the feller. “I'm sure I don't want to, and you wouldn't let me if I did.".

She says, " I shouldn't wonder if it was the same," and just then a So we goes on a 'agglin', 'im a-askin' me if I 'adn't nothin' more knock come at the kitchen-door, and I gets a peep at 'im, and if it to sell, and at last he says, “I'll give you two pounds for the lot, wasn't the wery identical. but," he says, “I ain't got the money with me. Here, I'll tell you Mrs. Padwick wanted to send 'im off about 'is business, but I says, what I'll do ; here's five shillin' for this jacket”-as he'd been and "Not afore he's see the things," as I know'd would make 'is mouth slipped on 'is own back, a-sayin' as he wanted it for his-self—"and water. I'll bring you the

money for the rest as I'll come for in arf an 'our.” In he come to the room where the things was all 'eaped up, me aWell, he walks 'isself off, and there I kep' them things a-kickin' keepin' in the butler's pantry, as is next it, with a glass door, as I kep about my back parler three days and he never come for 'em, and I see open. thro' the trick as he'd got the best thing of the lot for five shillin's and He begun a runnin' the things down at first, but was wery much left the rest.

took with them, partiklar a lot of shirts, and 'ad just said as he'd give The way as I was pestered by Jews a-comin' arter clothes for a six pounds for the lot. fortnight arter was downright surprisin', as I think was an a gang as Mrs. PADWICK she says, “I must ask a lady fust if she'll let you must 'ave told one another.

'ave em.” So she says, " Step in Mrs. BROWN, will yer ?" I was certainly werry savage over that Jew's behaviour, but didn't In I walke, jest as he was a-beginnin' to gether up the things, athink much more of it after a week or fo.

lookin' on them as 'is own. I says, "You let them things alone this It must ’ave been three months arter as I was a-goin' to see Mrs. instant, and walk your chalks.” Law, he was took aback, and only OBBS, as lives jest by Great Prescott-street, and was a-walkin' along stared. I says, “Here Brewer,” I says, a-callin' to the odd man, by the Minories I meets that Jew as 'ad done me out of that jacket as was cleanin' out a cellar, I says, “show this feller out.” So the full but, as the sayin' is.

clothes man he says, “ My good lady, whatever do you mean P" "Why," So I says, “You're a pretty impident wagabone, you are, to come I says, "I mean to turn you out, and if you don't go I'N ’ave a policeand cheat me out of my property like that.” He says, " Why, vat's man in." the old woman a-talkin' about ? I never set eyes on you." I says, He sees as I was in earnest, so 'idz + say no more, but was off in a “Yon say that agin' with your 'at on,” for he'd been and took it off jiffey, and it's lucky as I was ti cre, or if Mrs. PADWICK didn't sell a-pretendin' to wipe his 'ead.

ihem werry things for eleven poun.cs fifteen to a worry respectable He says, “What's my 'at got to do with you F" I says, “ You put man, as proves there is fair dealin's with them, but wherever I falls it on." "Well,” he says, “ there it is on, and now what do you in with that one I'll show 'im up, and make him repent the as he want !" I say, “Do you mean to my as you never see me afore ?' insulted me. før I knowd their wayi. So ho says, "You're a worry foolish, ignons rant old woman u don't know manner, and did ought to po ashamed of yourself to stop any one like this." I says, “You pay no one

* Very like a Wail. pound fifteen as you owes me, ad como and fetah away your rubbish Typre, a cult in the French stable, is one of the prominent ! from my place.” So he says, “You're a nice one, you are, to sell me candidates for Derby honours next year; we trust that the public a lot of rubbish for ono pound fifteen! Why, you ought to be will not become possessed of the idea that he is a second Gladiateur, ashamed on yonsself.”

or there will be a feaffal amount of Typhtdo)us Fever throughout Well, there was gettin' quito a crowd round us, and so I says, "Go the country during the winter.

EVENING.
Ye birds, boneath your little wings

Go hide your little heads;
For oh! the pleasantest of things

On earth are feather-beds.
Go, seek your pens, my little sheep,

And slumber while ye may;
My own will rob me of my sleep

Until the purple day.

Shine on above the chimney-pots,

Oh placid Evening Star;
While, gazing at you à la Watts,

“I wonder what you are."
You rose on Eden, happy place !

And still your smiles relieve
The woes and wants of Adam's race,

Delightful Star of Eve.
The nightingales are all about

Their song is everywhere -
Their notes are lovely (though they're out

So often in the air).
The zephyr, dancing through the tops

Of ash and poplar, weaves
Low melodies, and scarcely stops

To murmur, “By your leaves !"
Night steeps the passions of the day

In quiet, peace and love.
Pale Dian, in her tranquil way,

Kicks up a shino above.
Oh, I could bless tho hour that brings

All deep and dear delight,
Unless I had a lot of things

To polish off to-night.

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A WORD FROM A WOMAN.

An Amey-able Couple.

A man named AMEY was recently charged at Marlborough-street DEAR FUN,-Mamma is inexorable, and refuses to listen to reason. with a brutal attack on his wife. He was ill-using the poor woman, I do so hope that you will take my part, and that of the rest of the whom he had knocked down, jumped on, and nearly strangled, when female prisoners in London, and gain us our liberty. I know, my dear

a favourite cat, named Topsy, jumped on him, and fixed with tooth old friend, that you have got some sense about you, and I have a and claw on his face. He was obliged to implore his wife to notion that if you could get away you would not object to green fields,

remove the animal. This is a startling example of a crime getting smooth lawns, fresh air, and nature. I think I can see you stretched punishment. Men who ill-treat their wives deserve the cat-AMBY out full length on a grass cliff, your cap and bells flung aside, and your got it! Puss passed a bill for his punishment containing ten legs kicking in the air ! I would not envy you your liberty. Plead for

clawg-es. ours!

If there were any reason for our staying in town, I should not so much mind. There are no amusements, no excitement, no dancing, no

Ass-ass-ination. flirting, no anything.

The police statistics of Paris return 226 horses and fifty-nine asses The other day Mamma was actually unkind enough to take me to a as killed in March. In April, the donkeys were only twenty-nine, drawing-room, and I had the humiliation of driving

down St. James's- and in May nineteen; while the horses consumed were nearly, the street in a string of about thirty of the most miserable hack-flies you same in number each month. If " dog doesn't

eat dog,” it is evident, ever set eyes on. Everyone turned out to see the “drawing-room also, that though hippophagists flourish, the donkeys don't eat their farce,” as CHARLBY COURTOWN calls it, and the remarks made upon the brothers. seedy cortège would have shocked even you. Don't talk about the State ball! I never was at such a slow entertainment in my life. No

Charlie is my darling. one to talk to, no one to dance with, old fogies and stuck-up dowagers and everybody looking as bored and out of temper as possible. And

NAPIER was not only a great military hero, but also, as turned out now they say that we are to stay in town because the Sultan is after his death, a "Poet (2)"as well. He was not, however, as has coming, and because some breakfast parties are to be given at Bucking. I been suggested, the author of " Campaign Charlie

is my Name." ham Palace, and we girls are wanted to teach the Sultan how to play croquet. Fancy playing croquet, with a Sultan in a back garden at

Roasted with his Jacket on. Pimlico! The thing is absurd. Bother the Sultan and his breakfasts and croquot ! My dear friend, the place for croquet is the lawn at subsided, we would counsel Mr. Murphy, if he Whalley's his per

Now that the excitement attending the Birmingham Riots has Heatherleigh, and if you will come down there when we do get sonal comfort, not to deliver his lectures in other large towns, as we away, I will give you five hoops, and pass you in a canter.

have no wish to hear of his being received with & WHALLEY of Yours,

stones.

Flo FURBELOW. Would you believe it? Mamma made me sit out Le Corporal et la

Wanted, a Cæsar. Pays at the French plays the other night. I was so shocked, and did

The “ Young Men," who belong to a well-known Linendraper not know where to look, but Martma scolded me, and said that my establishment, and who are members of a Rido Corps, have recently modesty was all affectation. I don't know what I shall come to in found to immortalize the affair under the title of " De Bello

Can no modern Cæsar be time.

Calico ?

LITERALLY AND MILITARY.-The late CHARL 33.

OUR “ MUTE"-YOU-ALL-FRIEND : The Undertakor!

An Artless Statement. Tke Hanchester Guardian supplies us with the following curiosity :MATRIMONY...WANTED, a LADY, with a heart; widows need not apply.

Address H 90, at the printer's. It is clear the Man-chest-er is on the look-out for a female bosom that will reciprocate sentiment, but why he should refuse to treat with widows puzzles us. We have generally heard that widows were particularly remarkable for the number of (he)arts they possess. Should the advertiser meet with a lady without á heart, we are requested to state that the College of Surgeons will be happy to treat for the anatomical curiosity.

Thunderer or Blunder. COME, now, really the Times is a little too bad. It stated the other day that“MONSIEUR Heer, the Swiss envoy, was about to visit Munich to pay his respects to the King or BAVARIA." What nonsense ! Un. less the Swiss envoy is the direct descendant of Sir Boyle Roche's bird, how, we ask, can he be both Heer and there at the same time? It's impossible. (Loud cries of “Heer! Heer!” from our readers.)

A Stroke of the Imagination. RECENT explorations of the Gorilla country fail to confirm the early accounts of the animal given us by M. DU CHAILLU. The wonderful statement as to its beating its breast when enraged, producing terrifying sounds, must certainly be regarded as a coup manqué.

Our Tupper. The Proverbial Philosopher in his latest published work, declares that

A book is in no sort like a cable, to be judged by its weakest inch,

Neither has a hedge, nor has a wall, to be measured for its usefulness by gaps. This, we admit, is true. But a book may be measured for its tedionsness by gapes, Mr. M. F. T.; a writer may keep on too long "rythemicharping" on one string.

OUR BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY.

By Most OF OUR EMINENT AUTHORS.
EMERBON, RALPH WALDO. By Ralph Waldo EMERSON.

Ask not when the Poet's eyes,
Under grey Atlantic skies,
Opening wildly 'neath the morn,
Soapless, silent, and forlorn,
Token gave that a Bard was born!
A Bard at the sight of whose seeking,
The Grizzly grew silent and dumb;
At the sound of whose musical speaking,
The bee flew away with a hum.
Liston: I tell you an oracle :
Puny beginnings we had :
Look; ante-Cæsarean coracle
Leads to the last iron-clad !
Hither bring the Orphic runes,
Set to the latest Yankee tunes,
And I tell you the secret the pines told mno-
Whispered it, whilst I was sleeping-
Far in the woodland where gummy secretions
Slowly exuded,
As Nature concluded
That the type of the pine should approach its completions
Only by weeping
Gum from the tree !
Hist! an acorn fell!
Wonderful miracle !
What a deal there is, to be sure,
In most of the things about us!
And ain't it a lark, to be pure,
While the piny secretions endure,
And the orthodox heathen doubt us !
Hark: a wonderful mystery!
There is a honey-bee,
Whích never read ancient history,
Knows not its A, B, C:
And here is a titmouse, making
As much of a row as it can-
And my spirit with wonder shaking,
Out of its bonds awaking,
Blushes,
Flushes,
But candidly rushes,
To own it belongs t' a man!
Far in the sacred groves of Rome
Numa POMPILIUs had his home;
MAHOMET's native land
Was but a waste of sand ;
And there's a smack of SOCRATES
Amongst Athenian olive-trees!
But, lo! what a man am I!
I, the last-born of the ages!
I, who have filled several pages
With the often recurring cry,
“Lord, what a man am I!"
For hither the Muses led
Over Atlantic waves,
To Kentuckian Mammoth-caves,
Humanity, Asian-bred !
Out from Asia they enme ;
Into Europe they rushed;
Out of it did the same;
Later, in Boston, gushed! ...
They say I am like CARLYLE:
I've a hearty respect for Mr. C. ;
Yet do but listen a-while
While the titmouse whiddlog “Whee, whee!”
And twiddles again, “ Whee, whoe!”
With the greatest respect for THOMAS CARLYLE
The style that belongs to me
Is the style of the frantic
And urgent Atlantic
Over whose troublesome sea
Came oracular titmouses bringing
The voice of the Ages to me;
It is only “ Whee, whee!"
“Wheo, whee!”
N.B.
R. W.E.

Answers to Correspondents. [We cannot return rejected MSS. or sketches unless they are aooompanied by a stamped and directed envelope.]

D. O. N., Upper Baker-street.-D. O. N.-T! an answer that suits you to a T.

MONKEY GBORGE.-We are not in the habit of joking about religious questions; nor are you, to judge from the coatribution you sent us about St. Alban's, Holborn.

W. L. Skimmery, Oxford.—Your jokes about " cheese ” and “cream suggest the thinnest of skim milk. You were evidently tıying to make a butt-o'-milk, but like many dairymen have been too self-reliant, ond depended on the pump..

COBWEB.—Not suited to fill-a-mental corner.

A FRENCHMAN, Manchester.- We suppose from the broken English that you were trying to crack a joke.

QUALIFIED.--"With a D.-I.-S., with a Dis !" as the song says.

IN COPIA CAUTUS.--But you haven't caught us, and you won't catch us putting those jokes in!

W. J. S., Queen-street, Blackfriars-road.-See notice at head of answers.
.BEGINNER.-Should begin by being original.
R. H., Seymour-street. It is not worth noticing.
Box 27.-Thanks.
A HORNED OWL.-Your tu-whits are not a double meaning.

A TOXTkTH RANGER, evidently has only a limited range for he is wandering in his mind.

A. S. D.--Thanks.

THE SHADE OF MARS. You are right; we did tamper with the quotation, but you see we could no more think of rhyming * Fortunatos" with "potatoes” than we could of allowing the line to run as you suggest, “ Suè si bona norint."

COMET.--A coincidence.
E. J. M., Osborne Terrace.-M.S. awaits you at the office.
“THE FORCE OF FATE."-But unfortunately we don't see the force of it!
R. E. F:-Declined-no, we beg pardon-you won't be R. E. F. u-ed !

J. B. W.-We are not in the habit of buying our pigs in poker, or of taking wit on thrust, as the Irish would say,

S. M. C., Wandsworth-road.-We shall be happy to give you our opinion.
F. M. F.-In-F-ably stupid !
KNIGHT COMMANDER.- The suggestion had already reached us.

Declined with thanks.—Billy; D. N. D., Islington, Liverpool; Lobby; J. C. R. P., Dalston; Colonel P. P.; E. Ú. S., Caniden-town; A. D. B., Queen's-road; I. M.; P. P.; A Sufferer; J. A. M., Borth; W.G., Uxbridge; B.; J.H. W.,“Our Own Lion ;" Trivial; X.Q. R.; E.J. Little, Alie-street; S. G., Liverpool; A. G. S.; O. M. T.; J. G. L., Stanley-street; Seraphina Piralus; J. Ñ'C., Glasgow; H. A., Berners-street; A. Z., Durham; P. Y., Trumpington-street; W. J. K., Gray's-inn; D. S., Liverpool; Geo. H., Dover; M., Aberdeen; U. X. M., Halesowen; Lunatick.

THE SHEFFIELD OORE.---BROADHEAD and bloody-bones.

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A DAY AT MARGATE.

some people would be more interested in that than in disquisitions and

generalities about what “we” think. For our part we never cared much for Brighton, with its salt-water A youth of middle stature and pleasing exterior, in a light-brown Serpentine. But with Margate it is quite another thing. There we coat, blue tie, sprigged vest, and mauve unmentionables, might have can wander by the brink of the ocean and “gather shells," as the poet been observed about the latter half of the nineteenth century and remarks, "from youth to hage"-we always say hage at Margate -- near the end of the Margate pier. He attracted the attention of the and are reminded pleasantly of the Cockayne of our birth. Undiluted old and young-particularly of the fair sex. His manners were easy Nature—the seaside with the chill on-would be too unusual a diet. and engaging. He took the air until it was time to dine. And then We must have it mixed with a cockney flavour. A grog, composed of he dined frugally, but tastefully-wisely, but not too well. The bring water, the spirit of cockneydom, and the sweets of a holiday, is post-prandial Pickwick (it was a Havannah, but alliteration is the a refreshing beverage.

thing nowadays) graced his manly brow. (It is possible that “mouth” Well, we admit that we have heard fastidious people call Margate would be more correct, but it would not be so elegant as “brow" in vulgar. But as Popkins most justly suggests (he has just run up to that connection.). In the evening he went to the opening of the Hall town from Margato on business), "What do we care for 'ideous fast by the Sea, and 'listened with evident delight to the concert. He was people!" They are welcome to their opinion, and we shall stick to heard to express an opinion that Mr. Hall is an admirable chefours. Liberty of thought is the palladium of British liberty. Why d'orchestre ; that MADEMOISELL LIEBHART, if she wishes to cultivate an did our ancestors muet at Runnymede? Why did our forefathers engaging and attractive manner of singing, should study MADAME fight on Bosworth Plain? Why? In order that we might be free to Lemmens-SHBRRINGTON's style in preference to Mr88 ANNIB ADAMS ; have any opinions we choose as to whether Margate is vulgar or not. that MR. EDWARD MURRAY sings "Ruddier than the cherry” most Hang the vulgarity !-(that is Popkins again)—Margate is a very charmingly; that OFFENBACH's music is delightful; and that the Hall jolly, a very healthy, and a very pleasant place. We were once tra- this year is even more charmingly decorated than it was last season. velling in a first-class railway carriage, in which there were two Later in the evening his manly form was seen gliding through the persons who evidently knew each other tolerably well. Said A to B, giddy mazes of the dance. Save that he whirled his partner round “I hope goin' to Margate did your hankle good!" Said B to A, “I'm once in the Lancers with such celerity that her necklace broke, and much obliged to you for advising me to go there, I was well in a the beads, by centrifugal force, were shot in all directions, like shells week.” Said A, apologetically, " Ah, it's a 'ealthy place, is Margate, from the American Pivot-Continuous-Fire-Cannon, his Terpsichorean only it's so 'orrid vulgar!" To which responded B. "Well, now, Hi career was one brilliant success. didn't hobserve that!" And B was in the right, and A was like the That youth of middle stature, pleasing exterior, and light but not nian spoken of by the bard,

fantastic toe-(toes, ten of 'em, to be strictly correct)—that Adonis “He, who, in search of silence, “ silence !'' hoots,

was Popkins. Popkins is charmed with Margate-and really Popkins Is apt to make the hubbub he imputes."

is quite right. I agree with him and we agree with him. A was gnilty of vulgarity in condemning Margate as vulgar.

We-[Note to Eo. Look here, you know,- I can't go on "we"ing in this way. If you can't let me speak in the first person, you may

A P’int of Honour. write the rest of the article yourself. There !]

MR. M. T. Bass should have no empty honours for giving the good Yes, I did go to Margate the other day, and enjoyed myself very people of Derby six acres of recreation-ground. To empty hogsheads much; and if the absurd scruples of an editorial personage—to whom in his honour would be perhaps the most appropriate way of acknowI will not further allude-would allow, I would interest the public ledging his generosity. We hope the Derbyites—we don't mean the and witch the world with a description of my wanderings. I'm sure government-will record the gift by a fitting Bass-o relievo.

Lun. 0. :-Pru,ted b, ul DD x1 LASS, Pr@111x Works, St. Andrew's Hill Doctors' Commons, and Published (for the Proprietor) by W. ALTER, at 80, Fleet-street, E.C.

July 13, 1867.

BEESLEY ON BROADHEAD.

Is murder in the fashion,

When our BEESLEY in a passion, With a bloated aristocracy declares,

That the ruler of Jamaica,

With propriety should take a
Place by BROADHEAD and the infamy he bears ?

Of the workman's wrongs redressor,

Oh! illogical professor,
You have rather made a mess of it this time;

You're a pretty sort of teacher,

Of such rampant bosh the preacher,
When you cannot see there are degrees in crime.

The workman at your blunder,

Must have stared aghast in wonder,
And from cachinnation scarcely could refrain :

When for all your education,

With your blatant declamation,
You were suffering from nigger on the brain.

That BROADHEAD, wretched sinner,

Should so publicly be winner,
Of excuses made by BEESLEY's a disgrace;

And the artisan, disgusted,

With the teacher that he trusted,
From his leaders the professor should efface.

'Mong the pious men of Wadham,

As of old in sinful Sodom,
Are there ten just men and upright to be found ?

When we've Beesley from that college,

Who abuses so his knowledge, 'Mid the working men who stare and shout around.

With CONGREVB who's a Comtist,

FREDERIC HARRISON the promptest
To declare Trade Unions must from guilt be free ;

Will the Radicals say spilling

BEESLEY's blood would not be killing,
If some BROADHEAD was to "pot” PROFESSOR B. ?

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What entertainment are you reminded of by the opening day at Wimbledon ? The Monday Pop.

THE LATEST FROM WEATHER-COCKAIGNE. A Cockney friend wishes to know whether we consider this a beauty that is on the wane.

FROM OUR STALL.

MAYBURY. W& are always pleased with MR. BUCKSTONE when he digs up one

In the midst of an airy of the old comedies and puts it on table at the Haymarket. The

And vast cemetary, revived comedy of Who Wants a Guinea ? is hardly up to the second

O'errun by gorse, bramble, and blackberry, Colman's usual standard ; but, though inferior to the Heir at Law,

Stands a building alone, John Bull, and the Poor Gentleman, it is racily written and full of

Which is thereabouts known broad fun. GEORGE COLMAN dashes off dialogue as easily and spon

As the College-Dramatic-of Maybury. taneously as FARQUHAR or Sam Foote. It is horse-play, no doubt, beside the polished sentences of CONGREVE or SHERIDAN, but, at least,

It's really past joking it is off-hand, and suggests no painful racking of the brain, and no

To live there at Woking, ruinous expenditure of the midnight oil. Compressed into three acts,

Where someone they day after day bury. the comedy goes very well. Its story is not one of absorbing interest,

Such a brilliant look-out but its leading characters-or caricatures—are well represented by the

Must be pleasant, no doubt, Haymarket company. MR. KENDAL played the part of a dashing

For the people residing at Maybury. Irish baronet, Sir Larry McMurragh ; Mr. BUCKSTONE was a village busybody, one Solomon Gundy; MR. CHIPPENDALE and Mr. COMPTON

Men, whose lives have all been personated respectively a boorish but benevolent cockney tradesman

Of excitement the scene, and a drunken gamekeeper; and very well they all acted. MBSSRB.

One should scarcely, I think, in this way bury! Howe, ROGERB, and CLARK also contributed to the general efficiency

For a kind of exilium of the performance.

Is this domicilium Of The Coquette we cannot speak half so highly; indeed, we can

So far out of London as Maybury. hardly speak of it all, as we have only seen the last act. The dialogue, to judge from the specimen which came under our notice, is of the

Oh, Council, in season

Give ear unto reason, meanest kind—full of the baldest platitudes and Tupperisms imaginable ; and the versified "tag" which brings the curtain down is

No more these old sons of the play bury. laughably innocent of point or epigram. Mi88 AMY SEDGWICK did all

Where they like let them liveshe could with a French countess, who goes as mad as Tilburina, but

Small annuities givealtimately recovers her senses, and speaks in rhyme to prove her

And shut up the College of Maybury. Banity; but all the talent in London might have striven in vain against the overwhelming weight of such dialogue. The last scene

Over Sensitive. was nicely set.

At the Olympic Betty Martin has been revived. The chief cha- We know a gentleman so guarded in his remarks, lest he should racter is played by Miss E. FARREN with unflagging spirit; MR. G. wound anybody's feelings, that he will not even use a Personal VINCENT and Miss MARIA HARRIS also appear in the resuscitated farce. ( Pronoun !

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