Town Talk.

BY THE SAUNTERER IN SOCIETY.

ANCY the consternation of those sportive M.P.'s who are anxiously looking forward to the 12th, when they see how the Upper House is manipulating the Reform Bill! Some people declare that their Lordships would have dealt more leniently with the Bill, if the reports of the grousedisease had not augured bad sport on the moors. The extraordinary position of the Ministry was never more apparent

than when it had to

oppose an amendment brought forward by one of its most powerful supporters, and backed by the party which Government is supposed to represent; and when it had to seek the aid of its political enemies to save, or rather try to save, it from its friends! It is greatly to be regretted that at so important a crisis LORD DERBY should have been kept from the House by that most Conservative and respectable ailment, the gout. Had he been present, the debate might have taken another turn, and the chances of a renewed agitation, which now seems imminent, might have been removed.

HDG

HONOURS are beginning to flow eastwards. The LORD MAYOR and the SHERIFFS are to be knighted, and a tardy recognition of ALDERMAN ROSE's Mayoralty is to be made. If the first-named three gentlemen are to receive the accolade, I must say I think the last deserves it, but it must be somewhat the worse for keeping. Knighthood is not like venison, it does not become any higher for being hung-up for a time! I SEE it is announced that ERNST SCHULZ will close his first season at the Egyptian Hall on the 17th, and I am glad to hear that his efforts to amuse and instruct have been thoroughly appreciated. The exhibition is a very curious and interesting one, and I can honestly recommend those who have not seen it, to seize the opportunity before the Hall closes. I presume the HERR will take a tour of the provinces before he opens again. His representation of "Joy and Sorrow"— one-half of his face sad and the other merry-is one of the most remarkable things I ever saw.

THE Court Journal, I suppose, did not mean to be as uncomplimentary as it read, when it said the other day that PRINCESS MARY OF CAMBRIDGE, when attending the requiem for MAXIMILIAN, "behaved with reverence and devotion throughout the service." As if that popular and amiable lady were in the habit of displaying levity in church! Our friend the C. J. should be more careful.

Now for the magazines. The Cornhill is very weak in its illustrations, but has an interesting paper of recollections of CAPTAIN MARRYAT. "Breech-loading Rifles" will, no doubt, be eagerly read by riflemen. "La Colonna Infame" is curious, and "Ave Maria," a too close imitation of BROWNING, has some merit. In London Society, "Mary Eaglestone" has one good illustration, but the landscape heading is very poor-the foreground reminds one of "new and beautiful scenery by GATES," at the Adelphi. "Dinner in the City" is good, and so are CLARENCE CAPULET'S "Three Furies," the illustration to which is disgracefally bad. The cuts to a very dull article called "Upstairs and Down" are also horrible. The lines called "Cheap at a Guinea deserve a better drawing, and MR. PASQUIER'S illustration of "Monsieur Rossuet's Ghost" deserves better printing and a better story than that weak imitation of GEORGE SAND. "Beautiful Miss Johnson' opens well, and has a spirited drawing of PINWELL'S. In the Argosy there's a clever picture by SMALL, an amusing paper "Mooning in St. James's Park," a capital bit of "LIEUTENANT Foozy"-ness, and a

most interesting article by Mr. MACCALL entitled "A Paris Diogenes." The Argosy verse is susceptible of improvement. The last lines of "My Love and I" run thus:

"His love is mine, and mine is his; We're ours-my love and ."

This reminds one of the poet (not "the Poet WORDSWORTH," who wrote "a thing of beauty is of joy for ever,") who propounded the puzzling query

"Supposin' I was you, and supposin' you was me,

And supposin' we both was somebody else I wonder who we should be!" Good Words contains some good illustrations—but why are they not better printed? The best work is thrown away when printed as the drawing to "Grace's Fortune," for instance, is printed. The literature is good of its kind, though the verse is weak. The same may be said of the Sunday Magazine. Where was ELPIS's sense of humour when he wrote in his serious "autumn poem ".

66

"And greens are tender in the dawning light?"

I suppose he does not mean cabbages, lettuces, and cauliflowers. Job's Son" is a readable little sketch, but J. C. KNOX is too chary of rhymes and too careless of rhythm in "Philip's Mission," the illustration to which is fine. That to "Helmsvale Sunday School" is also good. "Last come, last served"-the first number of Tinsley's Magazine. It is never fair to judge by first numbers, and the editor of T. M. has won his editorial spurs, and may be relied on to turn out an amusing periodical. The two leading stories open well, and the verse in this number is good, though I doubt if the general public will be much interested about "Dear Y" and "the sins of T-" as set forth in "The Recluse." The "Belgian Ball" and "Spithead Review" papers are not quite the things for a first number, as I daresay the editor thought. Only when an editor relies on one or two of his "best writers" for his first number, they are pretty sure to send him just exactly what he doesn't want. Let's hope T. M. will improve.

THE STORY OF A REFORMER.

BOBULI CHUNCHI BAY

Was the cook of the Caribees,

And dressed in the regular way

Whatever they chawse to cheese(I should say, chose to chew)And that way!-why this was it, The regular barbarous style They ran a chap through with his spit And left him to fry in his ile

And he took two hours to do.

BOBULI CHUNCHI BAY

Was a little before his time-
He wished a new dish to purvey
For the king of that cannibal clime-
(KING HOKEY WHANG THE THIRD).
He invented the barbecue,
And likewise the friccassee,
And a sort of an Irish stew,
And a filet de l'homme rôti-

Such a carte seems quite absurd!
BOBULI CHUNCHI BAY
When his cooking reform he tried
Found obstacles many lay

In the path that to tread he sighed.
They called him democrat!
For though folks did not object
To be burnt by way of a feast;
When garnished or otherwise deckt,
They did not approve in the least:
Perhaps there was reason in that!
BOBULI CHUNCHI BAY

Was far too stanch a Reformer
To mind being cooked in his gra-
Vy; his zeal growing warmer and warmer,
When people opposed him most.
So he offered himself for the trial,
And begged they would cook and eat him-
He wouldn't allow a denial,

And pointed out how they should treat himBoil, stew, broil, bake, and roast. They must scollop his fingers and toesAnd make of his head a ragoutOf his ears in a curry disposeAnd devil his drumsticks two

Then daintily roast his chine.

But he suddenly came to a stop
At this point in the bill of fare,
And sadly a tear let drop

As he said with a hungry air,

"I should like to be there to dine!"

BOBULI CHUNCHI BAY

As a banquet proved really great, At three they sat down, they say, And they did not leave off till eight(A really long dinner, by George!) And many of those who were there By BOBULI CHUNCHI's wish, Full justice to do to the fare, Partook of each single dish,

And committed a friendly gorge.

When BOBULI CHUNCHI BAY

Was dead-and was eaten too,

The Caribee people, they

Came round to their CHUNCHI's view, That the art of the cook is great!

His wisdom they all admitted,

And speaking with warm approbation, Declared he was thoroughly fitted

To be king of the Caribee nation

MORAL.

But, you see, it was then too late.

SPORTINO INTELLIGENCE.

NICHOLAS AT Goodwood.

BRIGHTON, SOUTH COAST.. MY DEAR YOUNG FRIEND,-It is all of no use.. Me and the Turf were made for one another, and we cannot be long divided. Business at the Repository would have got along tolerably well, I dare say, if I could have consented for to put my Pegasus in harness-and would back that animal, weight for age, against any other Pegasuses of the time, bar none; if I could have cramped my soaring aspirations, bottled up my ardent love for good society, and sunk to the level of a retail trader.

It was not to be. I did think of going in for civic honours at one time, but I am told as the Common Council is a low lot; and the sale of newspapers over a counter, my dear young Friend, although it may have tendencies for to improve the mind and such, yet it is very trying when the boys come in of a morning, and begin for to chivy you, so for to speak, than whom I am sure as one of them called me a bleareyed old leg, which is not merely insulting, but anatomically impossible.

The Repository, however, has its uses. Between ourselves, of course, Betting-houses have been long abolished, by the strong arm of the law; oh certainly, yes, my dear young Friend; and quite right, too. ting, as we all know, is immoral-ain't it, Sir? Twig?

Bet

There are lists at the Repository, gentlemen all; and the market rates strictly observed. You may trust MR. NICHOLAS with any amount. He pledges himself for to let you to do so-and when he says "pledges himself," he do not mean as he is in the habit of putting himself up the spout when in tempory embarrassment, but like signing your name when you write to a newspaper, "as a guarantee of good faith."

The Prophet does not-like MR. RICHARD WOOD-promise ye £60 for every £10 invested; he only offers ye the best advice that age and experience can give. He may be wrong, now and then; such things have occurred; but NICHOLAS do not pretend to be infallible; he only pretends to be gifted, sagacious, and good. Chorus, "For he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fellow," &c., &c., &c., and so on.

The advent, Sir, of glorious Goodwood brought matters to a crisis. Your aged man shut up the Repository for a day or two-several deposits having been made there-and he rigged himself up with the funds thus obtained in a style which, he flatters himself, was tolerably "down the road." When you are a public character you must manage to keep up appearances. It's all very well to say that beauty when unadorned is adorned the most; and the old man will honestly confess that he likes to see the dears in their low dresses; but then, personally, I am more remarkable for intellect than what I am for beauty, though still a good-looking old chap for my period, if I may say so without being vanityglorious, and have never been done justice by the artises, they always representing NICHOLAS as though he had been partaking of too much for to drink.

But oh, my dear young Friend, what trials awaited my proud spirit! I was once, as you are well aware, hand-in-hand with my country's youthful aristocracy, than whom I am sure a finer set of young fellows, though a little gay; but the noblemen and gents which gladly fraternised with MR. NICHOLAS the eminent Turfite, would have nothing for to say to MR. NICHOLAS the honest retail Trader, and the proprietor of

a Repository than which I am sure anything more truly an emporium.

The Dooк OF RICHMOND himself was at first detained in London on account of that precious Reform Bill, a fact which may perhaps account for NICHOLAS not receiving of an invitation for to stay with the family; but I am bound to say that even when he arrived he did not offer your Representative that cordial hospitality which one eminent public character has a right to expect from another. In fact, my dear young Friend, he cut me dead; and so did a set of youngsters which, though bearing them no malice, I am glad to observe as they lost heavy during the meet, and pleased for to know as some of them will soon have to get rid of the ancestral hoax, and probably go through the Court. H.R.H. himself-my once bosom friend-still gave me a friendly nod as I lifted off my hat: but the CAMBRIDGES never noticed me at all, nor yet did TECK.

This comes, Sir, of being lured by wily Relatives into compromising of my position as a gentleman on the Turf, and a man, one of whose ancestors was under Government in the Custom House itself-compromising of my position, Sir, and entering into trade. For it is, after all, Sir, a satisfactory thing to a man who loves his country, that princes and nobles will have nothing to say to traders, such as merchants and Repositorians; but that they will sit down with bettingmen, and hob and nob with money-lenders, and smoke with trainers, and slap boy-jockeys on the back as they ply them with champagne I think, my dear young Friend, as I shall have for to cut the shop, and get back into society. NICHOLAS. P.S.-I am stopping here at a very comfortable hotel, and which I have told them as I am your Representative, and they will send the bill to the office according.

DREAMS.

DREAMS are the very strangest things,
Sometimes so lifelike and so real-
Sometimes (when Fancy tries her wing)
So wild, fantastic and ideal.

Oh! many-many a dream of mine

Has been so truthful in its seeming That-but for some betraying sign

I ne'er had known that I was dreaming.

I dreamt that I was in the House

Heard GLADSTONE's arguments discerning, Heard BRIGHT's declaiming, Dizzy's nous, MILL'S logic, and Lowe's classic learning. I listened with delight intense,

Ne'er thinking 'twas but fancy's schemingTill hearing WHALLEY talking sense,

I guessed at once that I was dreaming!

I dreamt that I was at the play

The piece's int'rest was unflagging,

The language faultless in its way,

From first to last no sign of dragging.

In stall or box, on gallery bench,

The audience with delight were screaming.
TOM TAYLOR's!-and not from the French?
I felt at once that I was dreaming!

I dreamt a picture gallery then
I wandered through,-an exhibition
Where MARKS showed mediæval men,
And WARD showed stagey composition.

Before one picture I stood still

With every excellence 'twas teeming ! The Catalogue! By PICKERSGILL?

Well, that convinced me I was dreaming!

I dreamt I was in MUDIE's shop,

That all the last new books were brought me-

The season's largest, latest crop !

Its quantity well nigh distraught me!
A volume 'twas my luck to choose
With poetry's rare jewels gleaming!
True poetry-and TUPPER's muse?
I felt assured that I was dreaming.

Les Braves Belges.

A CONTEMPORARY informs us that:

"The Belgians have been better treated in England than is generally supposed. L'Escaut announces that a lieutenant of the Garde Civique has secured during his brief stay here an English heiress and a thousand a year. This matrimonial nugget was discovered by the fortunate Belgian whilst smoking his cigar in Kensington Gardens.

We fancy people are more likely to take the air than the heiress in Kensington Gardens. We would warn our Belgian friend that he will do well, before he marries, to make quite sure that he has acted on the old recipe and "first caught his hare"-ess. It would be a sell if his expectations of the matrimonial nugget should prove to be nugget-ory.