MRS. BROWN ON GAS.

I DON'T think as ever I know'd anythink much wuss than the way as the streets is lighted all over London, and partik'ler out our way, as is darkness wisible all over the place, and I'm sure the gas in my kitchen burns that dismal as mend her stockings by it the gal can't thro' a-wearin' black in mournin' for her father as was took sudden thro' disease of the 'art, as is all my eye, for the publichouse was 'is end, as it is of a good many more. Not as I'd ever allow a servant for to wear black stockings, and so I told 'er, but of course for the fust three months, as is only natural grief, as did ought to be showed thro' respect. Not as any one could respect 'im, as were a downright disgrace and had got her out of one or two places thro' a-comin' and ringin' the bell far gone in drink, and a-demandin' on 'er as his child, and come that caper with me once, as pretty soon settled him, a-sittin' on my doorstep a-cryin' and a-sayin' it were 'ard to part a father and child, and 'er, poor thing, a-'idin' behind the washus door thro' fright of him as 'ad laid 'er mother's head open with the dust shovel the week afore she left 'ome. So I jest marches myself out and calls to a policeman as were a-passin', and says if this feller stouches my bell-handle again lock 'im up, as he did accordin', and so WARDIN, as were 'is name, never come nigh me agin, but 'is fool of a wife come and said as he'd took cold in the perlice cells as 'ad struck to 'im, and p'raps he did, but it was no cold as killed 'im, but constant gin and beer, as 'ad quite underminded his constitution.

life

As I was a sayin', the gas is a downright disgrace all about us, and I'm sure they're always a-tearin' the road up to look to them pipes, and lets a lot of it escape as the smell on is enough to knock you down, ando it did me close agin Lambeth-walk, where they'd been and digged up the pipes and not left room for any one to pass without walkin along the bank as they'd made in throwin' up the earth on the wement shameful. It's all a job, no doubt, and how they gets their vin, the same as the water and the drains, as they're only too glad exense to dig the place up, as is work for 'undreds, the same as down the Commercial-road three years ago, as nearly cost me da many more. For I was a goin' out in the evenin' for to purchases, and 'ad got into the Commercial-road and a the drain was up all over the place, with the earth mountains 'igh he pavement as we was all obligated for to walk along the top tho' pools of water on the pavement. A lot of idyots was a standin' there a watchin' the men at work, as is always the way with them is idle, and I was in a 'urry and says, "Oh, do let anybody pass!" One says, "Why didn't you send word you was a-comin ?" Another says, "Make way for the lady maress!" all a-jeerin' at me. Well, jest then if one of them men as was working down below didn't break open a water-pipe with his pickaxe, and up comes the water like a fountain a-delugin' any one. I was obligated for to step back like, when I heard parties a-hollerin' "Hi! hi!" and felt myself reg'lar swep' off my legs, and down I goes with a many more into that there drain, a-top of the workmen, and it's a mercy as I pitched into where it was soft mud, or I might 'ave broke my back.

59

Well, them navigators as they calls them as were at work tho' a rough lot, was werry kind a-liftin' of me into dry ground agin, and I says, "Whoever was it as shoved me into the drain ?" So a chap says, "Why, that ere moke" I says, "Who's a moke?" "Why," he says, "'Im with the pannyers," and so it proved to be a donkey, for if one of them costers 'adn't come along the path behind us with 'is donkey as the pannyers on had knocked every one into the drain in a row till stopped by a tinker as 'ad a pot of fire, with a 'ot iron, as pretty soon waked that coster up, and a nice fight there was. I'd a good mind for to jump into the drain agin, as I should have been knocked into but for the perlice, as come up, but 'ad to turn back' ome bedaubed from head to foot, and lumps of clay a-stickin' to me, as dried as hard as flint and stuck like wax.

Well, I was a-walkin' down Lambeth way the other evenin', and they was a-takin' up the gas-pipes as I'd smelt for ever so far, and they was a-tryin' of the pipe all along with a bit of rope as they'd set light to, when all of a sudden it flared out that wiolent as made me back sudden, and down I went. I thought as I fell wonderful soft, and felt as I'd gone into something as wasn't paving stones, and I heard sich a cryin', and a old man and a young gal a-screamin' at me and tryin' to pull me up. I says, “Let me alone, I can get up," but no I couldn't, for I seemed stuck like. The young gal began abusin' me frightful, a-callin' me a stupid old hass. A young feller as were passin' says, "Up with you, mother, you're a-crumplin' the linen," and up he jerked me that wiolent as seemed to hustle my bones. I says, "Whatever do you mean, a-usin' sich wiolence to a lady as 'ave only got summer things on as'll tear like tinder ?" "I should like to tear you to tinder," says the gal, "Look here, a whole week's work

ruined!"

I looks round, and if I hadn't been and 'set down in a basket of clean clothes as that old man and the young gal was a-carryin' between 'em. I says, "Why did you get so close behind me ?" Says the old man, "You backed like a restive cart-horse." I says, "That's

nice manners, to compare a lady to a cart-horse." He says, "You'd of your impidence," I says, "I'd rather give you a shillin' for the be a fine lady, take you by the pound." I says, "I don't want none damage as I've done." Says the gal, "A shillin' won't pay mother, and won't she give it me!" I says, "Where does she live?" She as 'ave been a-standin' ironing these things till she's nearly dropped, says, "Close by." I says, "I'll come and see 'er," for I see the poor child were frightened, and as to the old man, as were her grandfather, he 'adn't no sense 'ardly.

I never see a cleaner place than that poor woman's, tho' only one room, as got 'er bread by ironing as is 'ard work, and no doubt tries the temper, and I sees as she were a bit of a brimstone, but law bless you, 'ard work and short commons, as the sayin' is, would try the I soon told MRS. PRESWICK, as were 'er name, all about it, and it was temper of a saint, and there ain't many of them about nowadays. as much as I could do for to make 'er believe as it warn't the gal's fault; as to the old man, he'd lewanted. So she says to me quite short, swelled a-standin' as I can't." I says, "Let's see 'em," so we opens the "Then I'll trouble you to iron 'em over agin, for my legs is that basket, and I pretty soon could tell as it wasn't worry deadly the 'arm bonnet and shawl. Says the woman, "You don't mean to say as you'ne as were done. So I says, "Put me down a iron," and takes off my a-goin' to try to iron 'em up I says, "No, I ain't a-goin' to try I'm a-goin to iron 'em," for the ironin board were ready. "Why,"I em look all the better. So she says, "Whoever taught you ironin'?" says, "I'll set 'em right in a quarter of a'our," and so I did, and made I says, "One of the best as ever lived, as were my own mother, as did used to get up lace for Court ladies as good as new." she watched me, and I says to er mother, "You're too heavy-handed I don't think as ever I see anyone stare more than that poor gal, with your starch, as a dampin' with a wet cloth will improve this ene abit shirt," and so it did. So I says, "Now, my dear, you may be off with them; where's you'r grandpa as you calls im ?" She run for to find 'im, and that poor MRS. PRESWICK told me 'ow she'd been deserted by her 'usband, and left with three, and ad er own troublesho bein' bad infer breath as the doctor tolder would tam to dropsy, as lived in the back kitchen with a mangle, think werry likely, and she said as she'd or father on 'er ande it be best-closer. I quite took to funt moman, and she was that was almost past work, and clean and ard-workin', so you see some good come out of the gas and no thanks to them, as is a set of cheats, a-comin' botherin' constant about their metre, as is always wrong, and I 'ates the nasty and stifling feeling of gas as ain't fit for anythink but shops and passages, and in a small room is a downright furnace, and spiles everythink and blacks the ceilin' like a chimbly and I can't abear it, and if it don't get better I'll go back to candles, as I shouldn't mind but for the snuffin', as is never endin' work, let alone the dirt.

TRANSPARENCIES.

BY A MAGAZINE POETESS.

Ir I were a jelly-fish great and good,
Oh, what a jelly-fish I would be!
But I can't be a jelly-fish e'en if I would,
And so, as a jelly-fish, look not on me!
To float away on the roaming wave
Whithersoever the wave might list,
That is the life that my heart would crave-
That is the spell I could never resist.
To swim, and float, and wander away

To no matter where-and no matter why,
Like yonder pale jelly-fish out in the bay,
That is the sort of existence, say I.
This may be poetry-may be it's prose
May be it's-anyhow, this is enough;
It will pass for a poem as poetry goes-
Jelly-fish fashion-transparentish stuff!

Unreported Dramatic Fact.

ONE thing connected with the recent interesting performances of Romeo and Juliet at the Adelphi has been most unaccountably ignored by the papers. We allude to the fact that MR. TOM TAYLOR played Nurse to MISS KATE TERRY'S Juliet. It is fit that so notable a fact should be put upon record, though that being done, little is needed by way of comment. Anything undertaken by MR. T. T. is sure to be done well. Briefly, then, the distinguished dramatist supported Miss TERRY admirably. His garrulity was simply wonderful, and his scolding was superb.

THE MODERN "FREE LANCE."-Gratuitous Vaccination.

No Act of Parliament was ever drawn up through which some ingenious person or other could not drive a coach-and-four. But we fancy the New Metropolitan Management Act is the first through which an umbrella could be thrust. A bewildered constable has just applied to us for advice under the following circumstances. The Act says, "The Commissioner of Police may cause any dog which has remained in the hands of the police for three clear days, unclaimed," to be sold or destroyed. Considering the Act first comes into force in the month of November, we think it likely that some trouble may be. caused by this clause. Three clear days in London in November are almost as difficult to find as grammatical Acts of Parliament.

Sun and Company.

We see it stated in a contemporary that a new type company has been started at New York, "for producing metallic type by means of sunlight." This surpasses the photographic feat-we should say hand-of History, who was seen, by Tox MOORE, "to write with a pencil of light." If the enterprising company can only carry their scheme a little further, and manufacture the requisite sunlight out of cucumbers, their success will be complete.

SHOOTING QUARTERS.-Autumn and winter.

FROM OUR STALL.

WE are told that our grandfathers-dear old three-bottled dogs, who staggered into the theatres with more wine than wit on boardactually trembled and grew pale over "The Miller and his Men." The late MR. FARLEY curdled the blood and elevated the hair of crowded houses as Grindoff, and MR. LISTON was extremely diverting as Karl. We are not like our grandfathers. MR. RYDER delights not us-no nor MR. J. ROUSE either-though, by our smiling, we might have seemed to say so. The band of robbers which is the terror of Bohemia seems to us (Bohemian as we are) inexpressibly comic, and the trials of Claudine and Lothair interest us no more than if we had cut the loving couple out of paper and slid them on and off the boards of a SKELT's miniature theatre.

But, as a curiosity, "The Miller and his Men" is well worth seeing, and we consider that MR. CHATTERTON has done a laudable thing in reviving the funny old piece at Drury Lane. There must be something very wicked in our modern burlesques, for they have taught us to roar at the noblest sentiments, even when delivered in the most unexceptionable English; they have made the virtuous Kelmar seem the prosiest of old pumps, and Grindoff the most conventional of ruffians. We like these people none the less, though, but rather the more, for laughing at them so heartily. The piece can never be dull to anybody with a sense of humour, and we advise all the town to go to Drury Lane and see it. SIR HENRY BISHOP's music is as fresh as a daisy, and some very pretty scenery has been painted for the revival. MESSRS. RYDER, E. PHELPS, BARRETT, and Rouse do their best (quite ineffectually) to make the characters look like life; and, played as an afterpiece, the melodrama goes well. It would go better if MR. EDMUND PHELPS could commit the words of his part to memory, and the figure that crosses the back of the stage in a boat could manage to row less violently.

This is a busy week for the critics. In six more nights the present writer will have been to six more theatres, or perished in the attempt. To die in our stall would be a noble ending.

Eloquence.

A PUBLIC spirited Bostonian has founded a tutorship of elocution at the Andover Theological Seminary, to train the students in the art of "apt, forcible, and convincing public address." We should think JUDGE PAYNE Would do admirably for the post. If not always apt, his addresses are always forcible, and generally carry a pretty strong "conviction" with them.

Answers to Correspondents.

[We cannot return rejected MSS. or Sketches unless they are accompanied by a stamped and directed envelope. We can take no notice of communications with illegible signatures or monograms.]

DRAMA (Reform Club).-If, instead of scribbling anonymous letters, you would come forward like a gentleman, we could point out your blunder in a minute.

A. K. (Lothbury.)-We must, though ourselves loth, bury your MS. in the W. P. B.

A JUNIOR.-There was nothing to take offence at, surely!

J. M. N. (Fulham-road.)-Please see our regulations.

THANK Q. (Glasgow).-Smart, but you must see that we can't use it. BOB informs us that he is suffering from ague in consequence of the trouble his joke cost him. The joke is very shaky, too! HARRY W.-Under consideration.

F. A. O. (Chelmsford.)-A very old joke and a very poor sketch. F. C. E. (Kew Green.)-The notion may make Kew Green, but the general public would not smile even.

PERRY.-We must beg to decline the ex-PERRY-ment.

BETTY BLOSSOM must be nipt in the bud, or we shall come to blows. NUF. We have a-nuf without you, thanks.

X. Y. Z.-A B.C.-ly bad drawing.

long as the contribution you send, and quite as unmeaning. TRANSMAGNIFICANBANDANJUALITATAS.-Your signature is almost as

F. A. D. (Stoke Newington.)-We wish we could say you were a F. A. D. of ours, but we can't.

PSYCHE.-Oh, crikey!

SATYR.-We don't require jokes copied out of our back numbers. Declined with thanks:-R. W.; H. W. M., Hayes; A. H., Liverpool; A. B.; A. D., Glasgow; A. S., Cheltenham; W. W., Rugby; A. S., Paisley; Iota; W. B., Islington; L. J. C., Bedminster; F. S. B., Crosbysquare; E. H. C.; F. F., Jersey; C. E. N., Bayswater; Thomas, Wilderness-row; Charlie; Grim; Novice; Marmion; M. C., Acton-street; A Contributor; Asmodeus; J. P. D., Lee; Cub; G. C., Hyde Park; J. T. G., Balham; E. W. C., St. Paul's Cray; A. G. C.; A Middle-sex Person; One S. L. C., Kingston; W. S. M., St. Martin's-le-Grand; J. F. L., March Taken-in; H. B. M. G., Weston-super-Mare; T. W. J., Cheapside; A Enemy; L. S.; J. D. P., St. Luke's; J. A. H., Lytham; H. G., Brentford; A. Y., Old Broad-street; A. M., Pimlico; F. S. B., Crosby-square; J. G., Chelmsford; E. H. F.

FROM OUR STALL.

THE most exciting and poetical of sensation-plays, "Arrah-naPogue," suffers somewhat from the substitutions attending its revival. MR. G. VINING'S O'Grady is only pretty good, and MR. BROUGHAM'S was perfect. MR. GRESHAM, a clever actor in heavy business, plays the Sergeant with a terribly coarse kind of humour; the first representative of the character was admirable. Other alterations in the cast have taken place, few of them for the better. MR. and MRS. BOUCICAULT have resumed their old parts, and very charmingly they play them. MR. DOMINICK MURRAY, who has retouched and intensified Michael Feeny, was called before the curtain two or three times on the first night of the revival. By the way, the author has very judiciously substituted the "Shan Van Voght" for the "Wearin' of the Green." The treason of the former song is comparatively mild, and therefore less likely to stimulate the Fenians in the gallery to go into the streets and commit murder.

The pretty and comfortable Prince of Wales's has been re-opened with "Caste," which seemed to have got its second breath and gone in for another "spurt." MRS. LEIGH MURRAY is now playing the part originally given to MISS LARKIN.

MR. CAVE, the manager of the Marylebone Theatre, has just entered into the command of the Victoria. The house has been thoroughly cleaned, and everything about it looks very nice. A noticeable change has taken place in the behaviour of the "gods," who now listen soberly and sensibly to the pieces, instead of hooting, whistling, and fighting throughout the livelong performance. This improvement has been brought about by large placards, pasted against the gallery walls, which threaten instant expulsion in case of disturbance. We admire MR. CAVE's vigorous measures; he evidently knows bow to deal with a transpontine audience. The pieces at present on the Victoria bills are a melodrama called "The Sin of a Life," and the comic drama "Giralda," which are very respectably played. MR. LEWIS NANTON, who seems the favourite, is an actor who will make a name.

THE PATRON SAINT OF ENTOMOLOGISTS.-Good St. Antennæ.

VOL. VI.

Above Parr.

A REMARKABLE case of longevity has come under our notice. It is on record that "OLD PARR" attained the great age of 152 years nine months. Far be it from us to make light of so venerable a subject, still we may not be out of place in stating that this great fact has been completely cast into the shade by an acquaintance of ours-a chandelier manufacturer-who has already seen considerably more than thirty lustres, and, we are happy to add, has every prospect of witnessing as many more.