SPORTING INTELLIGENCE. NICHOLAS ON THE RECENT FESTIVITIES. MY DEAR YOUNG FRIEND,- Had I the arms of a BRIAREUS, or even of a MORPHEUS, combined with the eyes of an ARGUS (by whom I do not mean the sportive correspondent of the Morning Post, though here is wishing him no harm)-and if you were likewise for to endow the Old Man with as many legs as used to meet in the Ruins, it would still be utterly impossible for NICHOLAS to cope with the rush of events, all demanding of either sportive or prophetic treatment. NICHOLAS, Sir, is a Prophet, and the best as ever prophesied, bar none; but I am likewise a British citizen, and-especially since the establishment of the Repository, than which I am sure a more excellent emporium though a little not much patronised as it ought to be-I have taken a warm interest in public affairs. I have as much right to do so as any other man, bar none. I contribute to the burdens of the State. I pay rates and taxes-or, to speak more accurately, the collector have twice threatened to summons me for not doing so, and I really believe as he would have done such had it not been for my timely stratagem of going to a foreign shore, meaning the Exposition. I am eligible for to sit as a jury; and which, my time being valuable, it is the firm intention of NICHOLAS for to find every man guilty right off, Under the new Reform Bill, I am not at all sure as I shall not stand for Parlia ment either for the London University, or Hackney Wick, which I am told by the public prints as they are two of the new constituencies. There are many Turf topics upon which NICHOLAS have keep his eyes not meaning that the Prophet takes out his orbs every night, like false teeth, and puts them down on a turf topic, but only implying that the gaze of the Old Man, which is not unlike that of an eagle, has been hovering, so for to speak, over Goodwood and such. In cricket, again, the heart of NICHOLAS have been filled with honest joy by the way in which we Gentlemen beat the Players, and will do so again. Come on, ye Mercenaries! The ancient aristocracy of Great Britain, with their fine Old Prophet for to back 'em up, are ready and eager for the fray. I pass, Sir, to a theme of more general interest. NICHOLAS AND THE BELGIANS. (From the Prophet's own Penny-a-liner.) Considerable excitement was recently occasioned, not a hundred miles from the neighbourhood of the Oriental Repository, kept by the well-known MR. NICHOLAS, in Horselaydown, by the appearance of a large number of the Belgian Volunteers. From circumstances which have since transpired, it is fully believed that had an alarming conflagration broken out at this moment, the flames would have lit up in bright relief the steeples of the neighbouring religious edifices, and that much praise would also have been due to the police for keeping off the pressure of the crowd. Fortunately, the devouring element was otherwise employed. [NOTE BY NICHOLAS.-Of course it was. There was a dinner at the Mansion House. That's the place that really stood in danger from the "devouring" element, not the Repository, where it is but little as I eat, goodness knows. Go on with the account now, MESSRS. Judd AND GLASS: On arriving at the Oriental Repository-a spacious building in no particular order of architecture-the Belgians were most warmly received by their entertainer, who addressed them in the French language with great fluency, and which, when it was interpreted to them, they expressed themselves much pleased with his truly intronational sentiments. The distinguished host stated his regret that he could not entertain them all at once; but added, that if they would go round to the "Admiral Keppel" in three distinct bodies, he would personally accompany each detachment, and make sure that the liquor was good by tasting it himself. This proposition being received with enthusiastic cheers, the first distinct body set out upon its march, accompanied by NICHOLAS and your Reporter. The proceedings at the "Admiral Keppel" were of a very satisfactory kind-very satisfactory kind—especially the rumand-water. The second distinct body was equally fortunate, and the proceedings at the "Admiral Keppel" were still satisfactory-still most satisfactory -and where is he who can deny such, especially the whiskey-toddy? and where is he who can deny whiskey-toddy? But it made the Belgians as tight-as-a-drum, you know-tightsadrum. Me and old NICHOLAS, being used to it, wasn't even touched-even touched. But you should have seen the third distinct body. Why, they were twice as numerous as the others; and not a man of 'em sober, except 1 and old NICHOLAS, in the third distinct—distinctive body. .me [NOTE BY NICHOLAS.-The account, allowing for a little exaggeration, is substantially correct; but where it says that he wasn't "even touched," why, I had-being a householder-to bail him out!] NICHOLAS SELF-POSSESSION. WHAT a painful thing is shyness It produces a depression It would really be delicious I have passed unheeded by! Would I win at public meetings Groans and hisses are my greetings Makes me hot as in Cabool, I would never venture more! For I dote on dearest Rose, I determine to propose. DEAR 'LIZA,-Never, except in the "Arabian Nights," has anythink like my adventures been wrote since my last letter, and all along of my having dressed myself in a cognishow, as the Italians, or some of them confounded foreigners, call it; though in my case it was a sort of Eastern disguise of a turban and settrer, as I told you before. The fact is that this place is a reg'lar maskorade, more so than ever I see at Highbury Barn that night as it was a benefit, when uncle took tickets for us; and as to what used to be at the Old Eagle in the City-road before it was altered to the Grecian, why it's nothing to the seens one takes part in here. Before I can git any answer at the Post Restorong I shall be in Aldersgate again-me and the Sultan of Turkey and the Bashaw of Egypt, which I am in his suit-not in his clothes I don't mean, I only just wish I was, for they're covered with gold and pearls, his best is-grander a precious sight than the Sheriffs' liveries, or even the Lord Mayor's, as I'm proud to say I've seen here a-talkin' to the SULTAN himself like one o'clock, and him reg'lar knockin' under and as polite as though butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. Which he's to be at a bankwet at the Guildhall, but that's neither here nor there. What I mean by bein' in the suit of their Highnesses is, that when I thought things had blown over and I shouldn't be reckonized, I went to see the Xposition again, and where should I find myself but in the Grant Vestibule, when a short fat dark portly sort of a gent, in a red skull-cap and a tight buttoned-up blue frock, goes by, and all the people looks at him and me, as I've let my beard grow and got up my complexion with warnut ketchup since to add to the delusion. Says I to myself, "SAM TROTTLE, now's your game," for I see what the people thought, and hears that the name of the short party was the VICEROY OF EGYPT, and others with him as was Bays-and precious green baize too I reckon, for they looked reg'lar comfoozled. Now there was no law against my being a bay too if I liked, and so I jist follows 'em about, and every where that we goes the people makes way for us. Lor' I've seen everythink,-and more than that; there was I amongst the nobs when the EMPEROR give away the prizes, for I had my turban washed, and put on a string o' beads like a mountebank, and takes my place close to the entrance, so as when the SULTAN comes up I mixes up with a lot of other chaps, and when the feller in uniform as was M. C. looks hard at me I shakes my head an' hollers out "PEGWELL BAY!" and he grins and bows and in I goes. If it hadn't a-been for that JEW ARIES we should have had no end of fates, but at present the fates has forbid, and I've been able to show BOB what I'm equal to, as he's been glad to come round, I can tell you, when he finds I've got the entry; and if we didn't meet old BOTTLEJACK and his daughter AMELIA in the Grand Vestibule the other day, as was bein' reg'lar crowed over by a French corporal as old BOTTLEJACK hollered at a good one, but couldn't make him understand. BoB's rather low, becos that gal I told you of, TREBELLINA, has run away with one of the waiters at the Rooshian tea counter, and he spends a good deal of time here along of me and the SULTAN, I mean in the Moreen Aqueeryum, which it reminds me of "Here in cool grot," as they used to sing at the Aldersgate Harmonic Union. It's pleasant, though a little too dull for my money, to set here and look at the sea fishes a-swimmin' about in plate-glass tanks such as I never knowd anywheres, except in the cellar at PAINTER's in Leadenhallstreet, where they keeps the live turtle. But lor' I shall be home soon, and then we'll show these precious Bashaws and such what the City can do.-Yours, as you won't know when you see me, SAM TROTTLE. P.S.-I should ha' liked to ha' seen LEWIS N.'s face when he was introduced to Alderman WATERLOO ! All's Fish that comes to the Net. that they are taken by the waggon-load. Ir appears that the Hudson river has become so full of gold fish Transatlantic cousins put them into circulation? Why don't our acute Such net-profits would be better than greenbacks. A Light Comedian ? We observe in the Era that a Glasgow manager wants a gentleman of ability as "Heavy Lead." We are led to believe-or perhaps we should say, we "zinc" he wants a man of metal. Ecco ! Ir we may judge from the fact that the two principal objects in the wrapper of a new journal are heralds, we should imagine that Echoes from the Clubs are trumps. THE BELGIAN INVASION. A LETTER FROM BELLA IN TOWN TO MAUD IN THE DFAR MAUD, we've just come from the City— If you made of her now the "diskivery." They came in such numbers immense, The Belgians, our friendly invaders. With ideas for a classical study. Of the Belgians, our friendly invaders! Balsam or Balm. HERE is a charming story ready to the hand of HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN : "The garden of the Middlesex Hospital was thrown open for the flower show of the window-grown plants in the parish of St. Andrew's, Wella-street, on Tuesday. On this occasion the flower show for Christ Church, Down-street, was combined with it. The display of plants was very good, considering the badness of the season, and the show was crowded all the afternoon with the poor of the neighbourhood. The prizes were distributed by Lady Mildred Beresford-Hope and the Hon. Mrs. William Cowper-two out of a long list of patronesses. Among the prize-holders was one of the hospital nurses; and a prize was also adjudged to a balsam grown by a poor crippled boy by his bed-side in the Pepys Ward." Even old PEPYS himself might have been touched by this simple recital! Such peeps into the diaries of the life of the poor should do good. Let us hope our quotation of the paragraph will benefit so excellent a movement as that of "Window-grown Plant Shows." Ir's pleasant to get from the dust of the City That smothers the Park in the days of July; We'll see at the Camp how a shop-keeping nation Away with the spells of the fairest and sweetest, An Excuse. PROFESSOR BEESLEY has written to the papers trying to explain away the impression conveyed in his speech about the Sheffield outrages. When we remember at what college he was educated, we can quite understand that he occasionally is guilty of what Dundreary would call a little senseless Wadham-ontade. A FORCED ONE. THE WARBLING WARRIOR OF WIMBLEDON. A MERRY life the Volunteer He deals in bores both great and small- Is one of them, you'll find); And like a child, that's fond of sweets, How happy is this soldier's lot, And if a prize but pays his shot, Oh, isn't he a swell, With wreaths of laurel on his head, And lots of earwigs in his bed! A Poser for the C. S. Examiners. Q. NAME the first work on horology. A Spy-see Remark. WHY does a satirist treat his victims like telescopes ?-Because be draws them out-sees through them-and then shuts them up! A MISTER-Y.-Why SNOBKINS will insist on calling himself Esquire. Answers to Correspondents. [We cannot return rejected MSS. or sketches unless they are accompanied by a stamped and directed envelope.] NO ARTIST.-The subject won't draw. MADGE. The queer English to which you draw our attention is not quite our own Madge-estic language, but we cannot give the parties an advertisement gratis, voyez vous?" "THE APOSTLE OF THE MORMONS."-As you say you are More-money X. L.-Your joke would be X. L.-lent if you had not borrowed it. JACOB SCUD.-We can't find room for your ruminations, for you have been chewing someone else's (a) cud of sweet and bitter fancy. Those "little bills all over dew" which you take up as your own have been accepted as an old joke long since. AGGIE.-Aggie-ravating! A. B. (Manchester-street.)-Must look at our rules. We do not return M.S. save under the circumstances mentioned. L. Y. (Post-office, Edgware-road.)-Your "Popular Parodies" are to hand, but Sham Complexion" was done long ago in "The Elixir of Love" at the St. James's. HER A-DORA.-The only mystery we can see in the case is the lady's friends suffering such twaddle. We see no mystery about the dramatist's puffing. J. G. A. (Swindon.)-Thanks. S. H. (Post-office, Croydon) has done one of the funniest things we have met with of late. He writes that he "forwards the enclosed in hopes of insertion; any reply can be addressed to S. H., Post-office, Croydon." The enclosure is, "Dear Sir, I forward the enclosed in hopes of its being inserted in your paper. Any reply can be addressed to S. D., Post-office, Croydon." The dates and handwritings are identical, but the second letter is addressed to the editor of a contemporary, who no doubt received, the joke in duplicate! R. B. W.-MS. awaits you at the office. G. S. (Crewkerne).-We cannot lend ourselves to your local squabbles. Declined with thanks:-M. A. L. R.; W. P.; S. M.; Veritas; Billy; F. M., Sheffield; J. H. G., Putney; W. Brussels; W. Stoke; F. G. Č., West Brompton; W. G., Cheapside; T. E., Kent; J. H. T., Liverpool; W. G. S., Stanley-street; Vinegar Works; J. H., P-; S. W. L., Wallbrook; H. E., Islington; W. T. Lythan; P. W.; A. H. Donnington; A. C. Alloa; A. J., Mark-lane; J. C. P.; A. B. C.; Sarah Ann, Minories; R. V. S.; Rich-herd Robins-son; Fox-dog; W. A. B.; C. Mc., Liverpool; A Student; E. S., Bridgewater; Poste Restante; J. H. N.; J. B. W., Spalding; G. R. G., St. Andrews; A Poor Spinster; X. X. X.; MOTTO FOR THE MONEY-BOXES AT OUR HOSPITALS.-"When you're C. J. C., Birkenhead; A Punster; Bill Brown; Bonne Femme; Qualipassing my way-drop in." fied; E. G. C., Bedford-row. WHEN a man is as "cool as a cucumber," may he be said to be in a cucumber-frame of mind? URBS REDIVIVA. OLD London is alive again, Or will be by to-morrow, From courtly cups we quaff champagne, Instead of sups of sorrow. If folks don't care for midnight hours Or headaches-more's the pity, Belgravia scatters fruit and flow'rs And calipash the City. The plan to give guests bed and board The Viceroy's tumbled on "a WARD," A day at Kew, with time to bait, And "tramp o'er moss and fell, oh!" An opera visit paid in state, To witness Masaniello. A night for Islington's "kick-up," A gorgeous day on Sydenham Height, The town has been a dream to me, I never take my gaiety Alone or single-handed. A little arm to twine in mine Most fascinating fetter A word, a look from ISOLINE There's nothing suits me better! London:-Printed by JUDD & GLASS, Phoenix Works, St. Andrew's Hill, Doetors' Commons, and Published (for the Proprietor) by W. ALDER, at 80, Fleet-street, E.C.— July 20, 1867. THE HUNGRY BRIGADE. HALF a loaf! half a loaf! Regiments to Hounslow. Forward! said GENERAL HODGE, Eating to right of them, Not a man plunder'd. Stroll'd the six hundred! Yell'd all their voices there, Wild oaths-by no means rare, Who could have wonder'd? Pall Mall and Horse Guards! All who have blunder'd, When can their sorrows fade? Honour the words they said, FROM OUR STALL. THE BELGIAN RECEPTION. It is pleasant to reflect, when one remembers how very badly matters have been managed generally during their stay, that our Belgian friends must have been flattered by their visit to the Alhambra, where, as they supposed, real Cavalry Colonels had been expressly engaged to receive them! A DOMESTIC drama from the pen of MR. HENRY FARNIE has been brought out at the Strand. The piece-by name Reverses-is in two acts; neatly written, and well constructed as far as the plot goes which is not very far. Three or four of the sentences are quite epigrammatic, and three or four epigrams form a very fair allowance for a domestic drama nowadays. MR. EMERY, MISS ADA SWANBOROUGH, and Miss E. JOHNSTONE are the principal performers in Reverses. MR. EMERY is powerful, but coarse; his character is a brutal one, but he exaggerates its brutality to a painful pitch. We dislike making personal allusions, but MISS ADA SWANBOROUGH must allow us to suggest that the enormous chignon which becomes her so admirably in the first act is utterly out of place in the second. Chignon, perhaps, is not the term to apply to a head of hair which we have reason to believe natural; but the exuberance of locks which befits a drawing-room is rather too showy for a poverty-stricken cottage. Apart from this trifling incongruity, the lady's performance is charming. MISS ELIZA JOHNSTONE plays admirably as a stilted and Pharisaical "companion;" and MR. F. ROBSON-who reminds us more and more of his father every time we look at him-throws plenty of humour into the part of a servant. The first scene of the piece is very nicely set. MR. BYRON'S Fra Diavolo has been revived at this theatre, and follows the new drama. We never grow tired of the Critic, though the satire of it is mostly inapplicable to present theatrical circumstances. The breed of tragic authors, like that of spotted dogs, is rapidly becoming extinct; and few people have taken the trouble to read any of the precious productions that passed for tragedy in the days of SHERIDAN. But the wit of the first scene remains as fresh as ever when a few judicious alterations in the text have been made. By the way, MR. CHARLES MATHEWS-whose doubling of Puff and Sir Fretful Plagiary is a real treat should not, in the Year of Grace 1867, allude to the press-gang and the Morning Chronicle as existing facts. The performance of the Critic at the Olympic is, on the whole, satisfactory; but is it quite fair to put SHERIDAN at the end of the bill and play people out with him? MR. HORACE WIGAN was the Sneer, MR. CLAYTON the Dangle. MESSRS. D. MURRAY, VINCENT, and MONTAGUE, played the leading parts in the tragedy; and MISS FARKEN fell in love-went mad-and wore the prettiest imaginable dresses-as Tilburina. MISS M. OLIVER, who has persevered through two long and laborious parts for the last eight or nine months, has at last found it necessary to yield her part in Meg's Diversions to MISS CARLOTTA ADDISON, and we feel sure that MISS OLIVER is too firmly established in her position as a foremost London favourite to feel that we pass any slight upon her when we say that the piece has neither benefited nor suffered by the substitution. MISS ADDISON plays the part in every respect as well as MISS OLIVER-she does not play it better, because it would be simply impossible for anyone to do that. MISS CARLOTTA ADDISON is rapidly rising to an important place in her profession, and we venture to predict that she will, before many months have passed over her head, take a leading position in it. There is a fund of quiet fun in her comedy, and of deep, earnest feeling in her pathetic situations-a combination which is rare indeed, nowadays. MISS OLIVER has it, Miss NELLY MOORE has it, MISS MARIE WILTON has it (as all who saw her play in the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet, at the Strand, some years since, must admit), and Miss CARLOTTA ADDISON has it-and who besides? |