perhaps interrupt the workmen; so, first glancing at the front of the house, which is covered with strips of muslin, and pausing for an instant just to get a peep at the face of that pretty girl, the première coryphée, who is practising a coup in short skirts and faded round-toed slippers, we will once more seek daylight, and leave the folks to rehearse the pantomime with a clear stage. Boxing-night! the theatres are besieged with applicants for box, pit, and gallery. It is not only the rabble mob that have turned out, but the flower of the nobility arrive in close carriages and tigered broughams. The private boxes sparkle with diamonds-the pit is a sea of heads-and the gallery reminds one of the clatter that "The shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest." Rows of pretty, plump, cherry-cheeked children are seen around the family range of boxes, teazing their mammas with questions, and laughing in joyous anticipation of the "fun to come." Tradesmen and their "nice-looking" daughters abound in the upper boxes; tall young men, with daintily-combed whiskers, and very large seal rings on their fingers, are making good use of their lorgnettes in the "stalls;" the gallery is a bewildered medley of dustmen in ancle-jacks, servant-maids, wet-nurses out of place, hawkers and greengrocer boys. All have come with the one sole object of having a good long laugh, and they generally accomplish it. The gallery folks, who are unfortunately remindful of such points, have taken care to provide themselves with flasks of gin and spirits, which they consult frequently during the evening. The more elegantbred private-box company have had little hampers supplied at "Fortnum and Mason's," and, in the shape of Neufchâtel cream cheese, potted shrimps for sandwiches, some marmalade and red currant jam for the children, with perhaps just a dozen nicely-pressed biffins, they enjoy a portable and savoury refreshment. The English understand the art of being comfortable under all circumstances, and of all their holiday entertainments, the yearly pantomime seems to possess more charms than the simple pastimes of domestic life. This is the only spot on the globe where the drafts of the firm of Clown, Pantaloon, &c., are freely honoured "at sight;" and in no country that, we have yet visited, did Harlequin strike us as more agile, Pantaloon never tottered with more maudlin step, Clown was never half so droll, and Columbine more aërial and graceful, than here. In these respects, England is truly "merrie." Martial's proverb, "Risu inepto res ineptior nulla est," is very good in its way, but like many other musty apothegms, it loses its point at the Christmas period. "Ride si sapis" is much better, and to be preferred; therefore let us smile, and "With mirth and laughter, Let old wrinkles come." THE UNFORTUNATE WANT OF PRIORITY. THERE is no help for it-singular things will happen! Of course. And if you've nothing better to do, dear reader, lend us your attention for a few moments. Miss Angelina Leonora Lipsy was a sentimental young creature; who had a narrow escape of being beautiful; that is to say, she had dark lustrous eyes, dazzling white teeth, rich ruby lips, a chiselled outline of oval countenance, but hang it all--her hair was picturesquely red! Cruel nature! why were ye so bountiful in every other respect, to blight by a crowning and ridiculous contrast? While ye were about it, why not make the job complete ?-why destroy so much harmony by a single error? Had the hair been deep brown, or black, all would have been well, or, for the matter of that, dark auburn; but red-unmistakable, decided, atrocious red-oh! it was too bad, and we must cry out against it. Nature ought to have known better; and when Miss Angelina Leonora was launched into vitality, she (Nature, of course,) must have been in a fit of peevishness, or felt wickedly unamiable at the moment. And Miss Leonora was not only within one of being bautiful, but we may apply the same remark to her accomplishments. She could execute crayon drawings with considerable skill, and showed grace in dancing-but her forte lay in the piano. This was her celestial harbour. How bewitchingly she would have sung if she had not lisped! Her voice, a mezzo-soprano of a fair octave and a-half, floated and quivered till the heart leaped with delight. Then her selection of pieces-bravuras, cabalet tas, ariettas, and ballads from operas, were heaped upon great racks invented for their reception. And Miss Lipsy's taste-how varied it was, to be sure! not tied down to Beethoven and Mozart, and circling only the difficulties of Glück and Doni. zetti-by no means! One moment she would soar in Astrifiamnanto's prettiest bit, and the next twirl the dying tones of "Daniel Tucker." It was now Lucia, and then "Look ye❞— from grave to gay "From lively to serene," &c. But our young friend, even with the drawbacks of florid locks and mincing articulation, had lovers; and it is of these lovers we would now speak. They formed an acquaintance with her at the same time at an evening party, and both had fallen in love with her at the same moment. Their six eyes came in simultaneous contact-Love's telegraph was at work-and it would seem there was power sufficient in her two to play the mischief with their four. It was a case of madly mutual love, without the graceful benefit of priority. So it stood. The younger of the suitors was a Mr. Thompson Thompsons -a poet, gentleman on town, and general beau. He gloried in plaid trowsers, salmon-coloured braces, dare-devil tile, and, in fact was fast! Between ourselves and the post, dear reader, he was the favoured one! The other, a certain James Crack, or as he was called for shortness, "Jim Crack," a watchmaker by occupation; a journeyman that could always earn his fifteen dollars a week as easily as "turn his hand over," if he would only "stick to work." But there was the trouble-he loved women better than watches, and preferred lips to levers. Strange that such things are, and "Overcome us like a summer's These personages were friends, or, more properly, acquaintances; and though it was heart-consuming for each to know that the other loved the same object, yet the passion had been kindled at the same moment and in the same place. Here each felt the unfortunate want of priority! "Crack, can't we arrange it somehow ?" Thompsons would say appealingly, anxious to buy off the love of his rival; "I think I love her better than you." "I'm confident you don't," Crack would reply; I'd go through fire and water to serve her." "I'd go the water, because I can swim," Thompsons would add; but for the fire-I'd rather decline that, as I'm anything but a salamander." It was the custom of the couple to meet every other evening at a bowling saloon in Broadway; and some six weeks after the match of passion had been ignited, Crack-who was sitting moodily in a fauteuil scanning his finger-nails, while Thompsons was rattling away in praise of a new ballad he had just written, in which constancy and devotion were prominently brought forward-started up as if possessed of a brilliant idea, and confronted his fellow-in-love. "Thompsons, I've a grand thought popping through me." "Is it possible?" "Yes; but first allow me to ask-as far as you can be, under the circumstances-you're my friend, are you not ?" "How can you ask?” "Good. Now listen to what I say." "Why don't you answer ?" asked Crack. "Alas! James Crack, a regard for the truth, instilled into my mind when I was still young and tender in years, compels me to say that we do. "It's a hard case," remarked Crack. "Devilish hard." |