MRS. BROWN AND THE EGGS.

I 'ADN'T been over the door, as the sayin' is, for more than three weeks, and thought as the air were that balmy as I'd take a turn, not as ever I trusts them mild days in March, as is not to be trusted, as comes in like a lion o' pork and goes out like a quarter of lamb, as I remember did used to be said; though I 'ave heerd say as arter illness in spring you didn't ought to go out afore you can put your foot on six daisies at once, as I'm sure you can't do nowhere near London now, through the pavin'-stones as covers the place; but, law, if you waits for them things you'll never get out at all. So I dresses myself warm, and out I goes, and called in at MRS. CHANDLIS, as only lives round the corner, for to speak about the milk, as was what I call reg'lar skyblue; but, bless you, she were as short as pie-crust, as the sayin' is, and says, "If you don't like the milk as I sends get it elsewheres." So I says, "MRS. CHANDLIS, it's 'igh time as you give up a milkwalk and kep' your carriage, as can't speak civil to a customer, for though it is only 'arf a pint in the mornin' and a haporth of a arternoon, with a little extra now and then for a puddin', it's not to be despised, for we all knows as the sea itself is only made up of drops," I says; "and as to your eggs, there was three musty and one downright addled; so,” I says, “you do not ought to talk, for we've 'ad more milk lately, through MRS. MUGGRIDGE a-stoppin', and 'avin' 'ad two or three to tea." Not as I means to go on like this, for a spare room is a down-right nuisance, and 'ave it no more I won't. Not as I wants to move, though the drains is downright pison at times, and I don't fancy the 'ouse somehow, yet, bein' our own, don't like to part with it.

Well, MRS. CHANDLIS, she said somethin' about a grumblin' old fool, and walks into 'er back parler; so I thought as I were out, I'd look out for a fresh egg myself, and walks down the road to where the shops is. I come to a cheesemonger's where there was chests of eggs put out with eighteen and twenty a shillin' marked.

I says, "They must be rubbish; but," I says, "'ave you got any fresh?" The young man, he says, "There's beauties at twelve a shilling, new laid." "Ah," I says, "with a chicken in 'em no doubt." He turns away for to speak to another customer, and I takes up a egg in my 'and for to look at it, when a feller inside the shop hollers out to me, “Put them eggs down, none of that." "None of what ?'' says I. "None of your purloinin' ways 'ere."

I says, "You're a' insultin' blackguard. Who's a purloinin' your eggs? as wouldn't be worth stealin'; as is a rotten lot, any one can see with 'arf a eye." Out he comes a bustlin', and says, "Now you walk on; you're sent here by my wixen of a wife to annoy me."

I says, "Me sent by your wife? Why, I never set eyes on your wife, nor you neither, afore." He says, "I knows better; you're the old woman where she lodges."

I

says, "Me a' old woman; you must be a born fool, as well as a' insultin' blackguard, to talk like that. I don't let no lodgin's to the likes of your wife; as must be a beauty if she's anythink like 'er husband." "Now," he says, "I won't 'ave you a-comin' 'ere, so walk;" and if he didn't take and give me a shove.

Well, I'm a 'ot temper when provoked, so turns round sudden and fetched 'im a good swipe across the legs with my umbreller, as come down pretty sharp on 'is foot, as were a gouty one, with the shoe all cut, as I didn't see afore. The roar as he give lions was a fool to, and he give me a wiolent back'ander in the chest, as knocked me backards slap into that chest of eggs. I heard 'em a-crackin' and a-crashin' under me, and the more as I struggled to get up, in course, the more they broke. There was that young shopman and a boy a-laughin' like mad, and couldn't pull me up; and that old cheesemonger a-stampin' and swearin' like mad.

I thought as my back was broke through a-comin' with that force agin the division as there is in them egg-chests; I give another struggle and if I didn't slip chest and all on to the pavement, and if it adn't been for two ladies as pulled at me with all their strength, I don't know where I might not 'ave gone to.

Says that cheesemonger, "Oh, you wile old 'ussy, you did it for the purpose." "Did it for the purpose," says them ladies," and ruin a beautiful welwet cape like this," as was covered with 'is beastly eggs. I says, "Ladies, don't say a word to the old reprobate as I'll punish." says, "I've sent for a policeman." I says, "Ave you, I'm glad

He

on it."

Well, up come the police as said he didn't see the assault, and couldn't do nothink. I says, "Of course you can't, policeman, but I can and will too, for I knows the law as you ain't no right for to go a-layin' your eggs all over the pavement like this, and I'll make you pay for it as sure as eggs is eggs." For I know'd it well, through a fust cousin of mine as was a-walkin' through by London-road with a clump foot, and was that unmanageable as he kicked over a preambulator and two children into a lot of crockery as was spread all over the pavement, and a pretty smash it was, and a mercy as the children wasn't smashed as well, through the drab of a gal as was a-drivin' of

"That

'em bein' a-readin'. But he never paid a farthin' through it bein' agin the laws for to 'ave them things on the pavement at all. I went into a baker's shop as were close by, and a very civil woman she was, as did the best she could in wipin' of me down, as told me that old rascal of a cheesemonger was a downright bad'un, and 'ad turned his young wife, as 'ad been fool enough to marry 'im, out of doors, and would 'ave left 'er to starve but for the parish as interfered. I was that savage that I says to BROWN "I'll 'ave the law of that feller." He says, "Ave you got any witnesses?" I says, young man and the lady as lives opposite as was lookin' out of 'er parler winder." "Well," he says, "do as you like, but I don't like law myself." Says I "No, more don't I, but," I says, "one can't stand to be trod under foot by cheesemongers." "Well," he says, " do as you please.' I don't know as I should 'ave took no further steps about it, for I sent my cape to be cleaned, as wasn't much 'urt, and the gownd as I'd got on wasn't of no great walue, but about ten days arter I was a-walkin' past that shop and if the boy didn't holler out "There she goes. Who stole the bacon ?" a-jeerin'at me.

So I turns back and goes into the shop and there was that old wagerbone as was that bad with the gout as he couldn't move, a-settin' there a-grinnin' like a Cheshire cheese, as the sayin' is.

So I says, "I ain't thought it worth my while for to make you pay for them clothes as you spilte with your rotten eggs, but as you sets that boy on to insult me now I will be down on you." He says, "Get out of my shop, you old bladder of lard, or," he says, "I'll give you one for yourself with the butter spatters."

I says, "I ain't a-goin' to waste no breath on such a low-lived party, but," I says, "you shall 'ear from my lawyer," and out I walks and crosses the road for to call on the lady as lives oppersite as 'ad been a watchin' through the winder the day as I fell into the eggs. She come to the door 'erself and says, "What is it?"

I say's "What's what?" "Why," she says, "your business." "Well," I says, "my business is to ask you for to speak up as to what you see about a fortnight ago; when I was treated shameful and knocked back'ards into a box of eggs by that old thief of a cheesemonger oppersite."

"Oh," she says, "you're the old woman, are you, as was that disgraceful intosticated as was downright scandalous, and made all the row oppersite, as did ought to be ashamed of yourself?"

I was that took a-back as I didn't know what to say, and afore I could get my breath she slammed the door in my face. I see the good lady at the bakers as 'ad been that civil, a-beckonin' to me and went across.

"Law," she says, "why ever did you go there? "Why," I says, "I see 'er a-watchin' everythink as 'appened the week afore last, and wanted 'er for a witness, as I means to 'ave the law agin that old feller." "Law," she says, "that's MRS. WINDUS the publican's widder as 'as caused all the words atween old HASELWOOD and 'is wife, for she wanted to 'ave 'im 'erself. So," she says, "you did go and wake up the wrong passenger, as the sayin' is."

I says "I'll wake 'em all up afore I'm done, and they shall rue the day as they ever insulted me that gross, for to dare to say as I was intosticated." She says, "I can swear, mum, as you was as sober as a judge, and will do so with pleasure anytime."

I says, "So you shall," and wishes 'er a good day and 'ome I goes, a-wowin' wengeance agin that old HASELWOOD and the widder too, as is a foul-mouthed couple, and did ought to be 'ung by the 'eels to teach 'em not to be a-lyin' and a-slanderin' as is ways I don't 'old with and never gives in to.

THE SULTAN AT SYDENHAM. THE gathering at Sydenham to see the SULTAN or the fireworks, or both, was a wonderful sight, and must have brought grist to the mill of the People's Palace, since it was a day on which season-ticketholders even had to pay for admission. The weather behaved very queerly in the morning, but it cleared off towards evening, so that Beauty could display her rarest toilette, though not without occasional imploring glances at the doubtful sky.

The SULTAN, with the composure of a despotic potentate, kept everybody waiting about three hours beyond the appointed time; and the crush inside the Palace was tremendous. As the crowd was a welldressed crowd, with a large proportion of ladies, we need hardly say that it squeezed and pushed, and behaved with more than ordinary illtemper and rudeness. Very few, comparatively, listened to the concert-indeed, the noise and stir of so large a concourse rendered it an impossibility to hear the music.

The Royal party entered the Palace via the ruins-an arrangement to which the Crystal Palace Company is probably indebted for its gift of one thousand pounds. It was rather hard upon those who had paid for a peep at the SULTAN that barriers were erected cutting off the whole of the space from the first courts to the ruins; for standingground was terribly limited in consequence, nor was that all! When the Royal party arrived they turned aside into the courts when so far off that not a third of those present obtained more than a glance of a red fez, or of the powdered heads of the PRINCE's footmen. The Royal Visitors proceeded to the Royal box, the ante-room of which was, if possible, more charmingly decorated than at the time of the Restoration Concert, although we cannot speak of our own knowledge. We had the requisite authority to view the decorations, but were stopped by the ignorant obstinacy of the usual Sergeant of the A Division.

The concert over, the SULTAN took his place in the gallery overlooking the gardens, an1 as soon as such darkness as a most brilliant moon would permit, set in, there was a most magnificent display of fireworks. In number and novelty the pyrotechnics surpassed anything that has hitherto been done at Sydenham.

Unfortunately, when the fireworks were over, and the public reentered the Palace, it was found that the chairs placed in the body of the building for the concert-reserved-seats had not been removed.

This rendered impossible the usual promenade, and caused an immediate push for the doors, and then commenced a scene of the wildest confusion! The enormous number of carriages rendered it almost impossible for those who had vehicles, to find them; quite impossible for those who had not, to procure them. Inextricable confusion and lamentable delay were the results, and we fear many a lady will owe a severe illness to this long wait on a cold and dampish evening on the brow of Sydenham-hill. The confusion and delay were chiefly due to the inefficiency and bungling of the police. Anything more disgraceful than the blundering stupidity which characterised the whole of the police arrangements we never saw.

Within the Palace, the constables were in every place where they were not wanted; without the Palace, they were not in any place where they were wanted. Inside, if there was a narrow passage or a difficult corner, there you were sure to find one or two burly fellows blocking up space, but not assisting the traffic; and this was specially the case at the doors, which the departing crowd found beset with grinning policemen incapable of giving either information or aid. Outside, there was scurrying to and fro of mounted police, and much gesticulation and purposeless running about of men on foot, all giving different orders, and all leaving the one thing which alone could really dissipate the assemblage-the calling of carriages-to loafers and boys. The police idea of getting the crowd cleared off seemed to consist, first, in trying to prevent people from getting into their carriages when found; and, second, in preventing their driving off when they were in them. We may also add that in too many instances the "active and intelligent officer" treated ladies who were compelled to wait by the road-side for their carriages, as it is his delight to treat the unhappy creatures who people Regent-street after nightfall. Any foreigner who happened to be detained (as every one was) for a halfhour or so outside the Palace, must have been rather startled to find that the chief characteristics of our much-lauded civil force are ignorance, insolence, and brutality.

As we are in the mood for candour, we will close with a hint to the Crystal Palace authorities. The British public is a much-enduring one, but it does not forget any apparent impositions played on it. We doubt if it be good policy to run the reserved-seats system too hard. When BULL, after paying the price demanded for admission, finds all the best places railed off, and further pulls made upon his pocket for

THE LAST LOOK.

FULL oft I've made a fuss,
A modern Tantalus

When joys have slipp'd one; And in simplicity,

Have dar'd to breathe a sigh,

For thoughts that hipp'd one.

Once in the nursery,
They told me not to cry
For Clara Luna;

That may be very well,
But I've a tale to tell,
Degraded spoon, ah!

From this old window-seat,
I watch the crowded street,
Four greys! a carriage!
Blue boys with whips in hand!
Idlers! a German band!

By Jove, a marriage!

Wild eccentricities
Are woman's wicked eyes
When full of fun, for

I am distracted quite,

My neighbour opposite
Is really done for!

Ah, yes! I see her face
Peeping from Brussels lace
And gloss of satin.

Married! a heartless joke,
Is it? You want to smoke?
Your pipe put that in.

Out on the balcony

See the eight bridesmaids cry,
Maids fill the rumble.
Coming! I hear the shout,
Old shoes! but how about

Your servant humble ?

Old friend, take my advice,
Girl's eyes are very nice

But often wary,
She'll have departed soon,
So, if you want to spoon
There's her canary!

the privilege of seeing that for a sight of which he has paid at the door, he is apt to grumble; he is not very demonstrative, but he grumbles-and doesn't come again. The system has further disadvantages-waiters and such persons imitate it, and have established a which would make a concessionaire at the Paris Exhibition sigh. And sort of reserved-seat system of their own, letting out chairs at prices the evil does not end here-people who let out chairs in this way fall into a way of thinking that everything must be paid for, and have to be bribed into mere civility. We wish so well to the Crystal Palace that we cannot help speaking plainly on these points, and we have fo often expressed our hopes for its success that our motives in speaking cannot be questioned.

Answers to Correspondents.

[We cannot return rejected MSS. or sketches unless they are accompanied by a stamped and directed envelope.]

do se, and oblige yours, &c." Unfortunately, we don't do so. E. R. W. says, "If you think the enclosed worthy of insertion please SMALLBOY ought to feel very little.

A. W. (Silkstone).-It is coal'd comfort to tell you your MS. is screened from observation. W. H.-The ideas are comic, but the execution is downright murder. O. D. V. (Broadwinch).-Your acrostic is not a Co(g)n-ac-cepted. L. D. LE MANS.-You can send a sketch if you like.

YE MANNE OF BENGAULE.-Will not doe at aule!

EYEGLASS.-Your communication is illegible, even with the aid of a

microscope.

C. F. H. S. (Isle of Ely).-Your course was quite correct, but we have no opening for the article, being fully supplied.

BULLDOG.-In that line we are catered for already.

W. H. R. (Talke.)-Your Talkey-talkee is not original.

A LOOKER-ON probably sees most of the game he is after, we suppose, for we can't see his drift at all.

J. E. P. (Kilburn.)-Parody good-but can't be inserted for obvious

reasons.

A PORTUGUESE has already been answered.

Declined with thanks :-Etah; D. Q.; C. S., Notting-hill; G. D. E. P.; W. R. S.; G. R. J.; J. Y., Lamb's Conduit-street; H. C., Erith; T. N., Liverpool; J. F. C., Glasgow; J. B., Newcastle-on-Tyne; C. W., Holloway; H. B., Ashford; C. T., Guernsey; X. U. Y.; H. B., Kensington; Sultan; Mr. R., New Broad-street; Aladdin; F. W. F., Bristol; E. W. F., Cambridge; F. H.; Civis; Joss; T. S. D., Cheapside; W. P.; Sigma; A. B. C.; W. T. R.; J. T., Birmingham; H. P., Bradford Mensmans, Aberdeen; Slippery Sam; C. H. M.; H. C.; Rismenz; Ineszita; B. 06,569, Manchester; J. R., Rotherhithe; G. Modderst; F. A. F., Seaforth; G. F. S., Eversholt-street; F. H. N., Laurel-grove, Penge; R. S. C., Euston-road.

OUR LIBRARY TABLE.

The Story of Doom (LONGMANS, GREEN, and Co.), by MISS JEAN INGELow, is a more lofty and sustained essay in the regions of poetry than she has hitherto attempted. It is welcome as a sign of growing powers and a ripening reputation. It abounds in passages of exquisite fancy and happily-expressed thoughts. The story is the story of the Deluge, and is woven-up of three interests-the human, as shown in the love of JAPHET and AMARANTH; the Divine, in NOAH's mission and his wrestlings with it; and the supernatural, in the imaginative treatment of the old serpent and the diabolical machinery. This last element is, perhaps, the most difficult to manage:-it is not the least successful part, however, of MISS INGELOW's poem. In only one passage can we remember her making a mistake in its treatment-the passage in which, when the evil spirits seek an interview with the snake:"A thunder-cloud stooped low and swathed the place In its black swirls, and out of it they rushed."

This, it seems to us, is either making them rulers of Nature, or is making her their accomplice. To make thunder an evil power instead of a heavenly phenomenon is scarcely worthy of poetry. The language is at times a little grating, owing to the studied introduction of archaisms and biblical expressions, such as, "Well is thee!" How far MISS INGELOW's liberties with the character of METHUSELAH аre warranted we cannot say, but they are calculated to startle even DR. COLENSO.

Of the other poems in the volume, "Gladys and her Island" is far the finest. The "moral" reminds us of MRS. BROWNING, and shows flashes of a keen humour that is unusual in women.

"Remonstrance'

is a gem of the purest water; and "Songs of the Voices of the Birds" are full of beauty.

We are glad to record that with scarcely an exception Miss INGELOW's

THERE are some things we can't have enough of ;"Da capo," of them is our cry;

While others we get quantum suff: of,

With only one taste, just to try.
Above all there one thing of this kind is
That" once in a lifetime" will do-
And that, as you'll very soon find, is
A trip to a Naval Review!

At four in the morning awaking,

You dress and rush off to the train,
Scarce daring your fast to be breaking,
So you fast while you hasten amain.
Then off by the railroad they bowl you,-
A wearisome journey, say you,
But you have as a thing to console you,
The thought of the Naval Review.

The steamer! on board you must hurry,
For fear of your missing the treat-
But you can't quite o'erlook, in the flurry,
The fact-you want something to eat.
But the ship they've provided no meal in-
Of course, there's a mess for the crew,
But not the same mess that you feel in,
Thus bound for the Naval Review.
Steam's up! there's no time for providing
A bit of a snack by the way-
From the harbour you're speedily gliding,
And wishing 'twere finer to-day-
The sea, from the land, appeared calmish,
But isn't:-your ship is a screw!
And before very long you feel qualmish,
And sick of the Naval Review.

In the offing some vessels are lying-
They tell you that that is the fleet:

And you smile at the news, for you're trying
To think it's a very great treat.

The firing commences-and quickly

You're gazing, your telescope through,

On a great cloud of smoke, hanging thickly-
And that is the Naval Review!

WHY does a man with a wooden leg limp ?-Because he's hobbly-gaited.

99

rhymes are true ones, and her lines musical. It is because they are so musical, indeed, that our attention is the more attracted when she falls into the error of making "fire" and "hour" dissyllables. When she has resolved to avoid this, and the repetition of some pet phrases-a "sea-bight" for instance the author of "Gladys and her Island will have taken her stand indisputably among the long grasses and sweet thyme on the goodly mount-"It is the hill Parnassus." THE CHARLES DICKENS" edition of the works of Boz, published by ME88RS. CHAPMAN and HALL, has reached its second volumeMartin Chuzzlewit. Who will not be glad to meet Pecksniff again, and to wander with Mark Tapley in the city of Eden-or, best of all, to drink fair with Sairey Gamp once more? It is like living one's youth over again to re-peruse such a book as this.

To be taken on Trust.

"COMMERCE and Liberty," says the Lord Mayor at the Guildhall Banquet to the Belgian Volunteers, "are the watchwords of the day." A West-end tailor writes to us to say that so far as his experience goes, the watchword of the present generation is-Tick!

NOTICE. Now ready, price 18, and may be obtained at the Fux Office, Lacy's Theatrical Warehouse, and all booksellers,

ROBINSON CRUSOE;

OR, THE INJUN BRIDE AND THE INJURED WIFE.

A Burlesque by H. J. Byron, W. S. Gilbert, T. Hood, H. S. Leigh, Arthur Sketchley, and "Nicholas."

Performed at Theatre Royal Haymarket, on Saturday, July 6th.

widowed mother of the late Paul Gray. N.B. The proceeds of the sale will be added to the Fund for the benefit of the

LET folks about to marry
Hear JOHN PARRY!

What a jingling and a tingling

Of the bells, bells, bells, bells; What a meeting and a mingling Of the tip-top swells!

What a murmur in the air,
Of the "Gushington affair";

What a rushing

And a crushing

Of the people

(Happy mortals)

To the portals

Of a building with a steeple
Near a fashionable square.

Over at last-the register signed-
The whole of the congregation
Rather impressed, and quite inclined
For something nice (of the GUNTER kind)
In the way of a cold collation.
Speeches-crackers-and sobs and sighs-
And a carriage and pair to Dover;
Farewell kisses-and last good-byes,
And the little affair is over.
Who painted us the wedding-day-
The bridegroom, bride, and déjeuner;
Who brought it all before us, pray?
My PARRY.

Who trotted MRS. ROSELEAF Out (To give a party or a rout); Who told us what she talked about?

My PARRY.

Who sang to us in sharps and flats,
Of Blue Beards, Whittingtons and Cats,
And Cinderellas? Bless you, that's

My PARRY.

A LECTURE on "Jamaica and the Late Outbreak" has been, so the Star reports, delivered at King-street Hall, Long-acre, by a Negro, G. W. CLARKE by name. This "black gentleman" is reported to have described "with some piquancy" his own seizure and the Provost's "un-English" conduct. Of course our friend in the dark was anxious to give the whites a touch with the tarring brush. to bring his hearers to a similarity of view, or of hue, with himself. But we must be allowed to consider his statements as coloured ones.

The South-Western Serenaders.

We observe that those well-known public entertainers, the Directors of the South-Western Railway, took the opportunity of the Review at Wimbledon for a display of their unpopular divertissement-a breakdown-which they performed with their usual aplomb. The spectacle was viewed by hundreds who were supplied with tickets-in the shape of the halves of return tickets to town, which were of no use for the purpose for which they were intended, but admitted their bearers to see the break-down.

A PRINCE OF GOOD FELLAHS.-The Viceroy.

VOL. V.