TOWN TALK BY THE SAUNTERER IN SOCIETY. OOR LORD RUSSELL is not being received very cordially. The Times welcomes him with a hug like that of a bear; you fancy you hear his ribs cracking and nobody seems very delighted to hear of his preferment. And yet we ought to be-for it removes him from that temptation of pen and ink which was always before him at the Foreign Office. I SEE that Bethnal busy about "Everybody's Business." I wonder whether "Everybody's Business" is to look after "Somebody's Luggage." I rather guess there's a connection. But then "Rates and Taxes!" What is the meaning of that? I call it cruel: we shall all have our Christmas bills in, and those dreadful claims for rates and taxes will be among them. What it is to be I can't guess-a book, I suppose. Yes, but what about? I have tried to find out, and have heard of its being the work of various people of a gentleman connected with the bar, in which case it might be a legal handbook; of one connected with a public department, in which case it might be an official publication touching the revenue; of a dramatist, when it might be a sensation drama with a hero with the water cut off; of gentlemen connected with comic, a daily, and an evening paper, in which case it might be a collection of essays and leaders or anything. But I suppose we shall learn in time. a The winter art campaign is about to commence. MR. WALLIS has removed his exhibition to Suffolk-street, and MR. GAMBART opens an exhibition of his own at the French Gallery, and rather disingenuously calls it "the thirteenth" instead of "the first" exhibition. Both are filled with good works by the best artists of the day. Green has not made IL N'EST JAMAIS TROP TARD POUR RACCOMMODER! much progress, in spite of the attention drawn to it some time since. MR. CHRISTIE, the inspector of nuisances, appears to be the incarnation of all that a Board of Guardians could desire. A child died in one of eight houses which have been, so the evidence stated, in a most insalubrious condition for eight years. MR. CHRISTIE "can't help that"-he only goes and reports when he is "called in." "Was it your duty," says the coroner, "to attend only where there was a complaint ?" Observe the way in which the inspector dodges the question. "My instructions were to attend on those who made complaints." Yes, MR. CHRISTIE, but not only on those-you have eyes, sir, and should be able to see and attend to other cases, unless you want to make us believe that complaints are so numerous, your whole time is taken up with them; in which case the parish does you credit, as an inspector of nuisances of some years standing! The coroner learns that the neighbourhood has not been inspected for ten months, and says this state of things will not satisfy the public if it does the vestry. Then speaks the parochial mind, in the person of MR. CHRISTIE, "I have nothing to do with the public. I do not care whether the public are satisfied or not. You should go and do it yourself!" That, MR. CHRISTIE, is rude, you know-and what is more, stupid, for if you don't care for the public the public will care for you, and the results may be unpleasant. And the public quite agrees with the jury's verdiet and its addendum :— "And the jurors do further say that the conduct of MR. CHRISTIE, the inspector of nuisances, is reprehensible for neglect of duty." THE parochial mind is wonderfully constituted! The other day there was a fatal accident in the Marylebone-road, and it was alleged at the inquest that the state of the road at that part was disgraceful, and the jury "presented" the St. Pancras Vestry to DR. LANKESTER accordingly. Whereupon there is a meeting of the vestry, and a great clucking and cackling, as of a body of respectable turkeys-and an exhibition of about as much sense and temper as you would expect of those birds. This conclave of nobodies take it into their heads that the coroner and the jury have a spite against them, and protest, and abuse, and justify in the most absurd manner. And then they go and look at the road-with their eyes shut-and declare it to be "the best bit of paving in all London!" If they had not been incompetent noodles they must have seen that this excess of praise rather damages their case. However, because they choose to believe that a coroner, who knows them only by their works, has a personal grudge against them, the road will be left as it is until another accident occurs there. A noble thing is the parochial mind! AUSTRIA and Prussia, encouraged by their success in Denmark, are about to repeat the performance. The little free town of Frankforton-the-Maine allowed the Congress of German Deputies to assemble, and the two bullies protest against its freedom in so doing, and threaten to take its government into their own hands. The plucky little town is going to give them a smart answer-they may have might on their side, but Frankfort has Maine-and is right in the main too. As Christmas draws near sundry single line advertisements in the papars set people puzzling. For the last few days everybody has been A DRAMA IN FOUR ACTS. WITH APPROPRIATE MUSIC. Enter the Hox. MR. WINCHESTER, TOM ROBINSON, and JOSEPHS. HON. MR. W.-I am going to Australia, so I shall go and learn how to shoe a horse. [Exit Hon. Mr. W. Music "Harmonious Blacksmith." JOSEPHS.-I am a poor boy, and have stolen a potato! Enter GEORGE FIELDING. GEORGE FIELDING.-I love Sewsan Merton, but I am a beggar. MERTON.-I cannot allow my Sewsan to marry a beggar. Music-"Blow, blow, thou wintry wind." MERTON.-Earn a thousand pounds, and you shall have her! GEORGE.-Agreed! Music "Give me your hand."-Bohemian Girl. WILLIAM.-George, borrow some money for me! SEWSAN.-Don't! Music "Battle of Prague." Enter SEWSAN. Enter MR. MEADOWS and CRAWLEY. MEADOWS.-I am a villain, and I love Sewsan. CRAWLEY.-I am his tool. Where shall we all go to? Enter ISAAC LEVI. [They fight. [They don't. SEWSAN.-Don't! GEORGE. Yes, I shall. [Goes to Australia. [Goes to Australia. Music "Off, off, said the stranger." MEADOWS.-Crawley, he is loved by Sewsan-go after him and blight his plans. Draw on me for £1,200 a year. CRAWLEY.-Yes. Where shall we all go to! Music "Cheer, boys, cheer!" Enter Officers of Justice. OFF. OF J.-Robinson, you are wanted for a burglary; Josephs, you are wanted for a potato. [They arrest T. R. and Joseph. Music "Call me not unkind, Robin." A CURATE. He is dying. Enter a Curate. [Exit a Curate. [Sets him free. [A panel opens and Isaac Levi is discovered illuminated by lime light.] Music "A norrible tale." France. CRAWLEY.-Yes. Take it, and go to SEWSAN.-I am going to marry Meadows to day. MEADOWS.-Ah, Sewsan, come and be married! [Enter lads and lasses. Church bells ring a merry peal. Enter GEORGE and Toм ROBINSON. SEWSAN.-Oh! [Falls into his arms. MEADOWS.-Foiled! (To villagers) Tell them to stop those infernal bells! (The bells, which are several miles off, in an adjoining county, are stopped POLICEMAN. Meadows, you are wanted for stealing £7,000. Prove it! 215.-It's very hard-they gave me seven years' penal servitude for up in one of the walls with no other companion than a solitary but LEVI. Remark the determined behaviour of an implacable Israelite. He turned me from my home, so for seven years I have lived bricked effective lime-light; and there I have patiently awaited an opportunity for detecting him in his crimes. I saw him give the notes to Crawley! TOM ROBINSON.-That being the case, it will at once be patent to everybody that "IT IS NEVER TOO LATE to Mend." CURTAIN. Music "Love not-the thing you love must die." T. R.-There is gold on your estate. Let us find it! GEORGE. We will. FAITHFUL B.-Golly, massa, black feller knows where find big yaller stone. 'Pose black feller find yaller stone big as white feller's head, what'll white feller gib black feller? Yah! yah! T. R.-If you find me a lump of gold as big as my head, I will (in a burst of generosity)-yes, I will give you A BOX OF LUCIFER MATCHES! FAITHFUL B.-Golly, golly! 'Pose you wait a bit, buccra massa! [Finds a lump of gold, weighing several tons. FROM OUR STALL. No better locality than the Egyptian Hall could be found for the Sphinx. It would have been out of place in the Guildhall, or at the South Kensington Museum. In the stone quarries of the British Museum it might have found an appropriate residence, and congenial society, but still the Egyptian Hall, Piccadilly, has about it a solemn air of architectural elephantiasis which reminds the beholders of Ptolemy, the Nile, papyrus, and mummies most especially. Not that the Sphinx now exhibiting near St. James's Park has the remotest connection with that remarkable thing, which was either animal, vegetable, or mineral, or all three combined, and which-if we remember rightly, had the head of an owl, the body of "comet" port, and the legs of an American abolitionist. On the contrary, the new Sphinx resembles a closely-shaved head of one of that ingenuous race spoken of by MR. DISRAELI as Caucasian, and known to the observer unlearned in ethnology as sharp practitioners in the negociation of bills, or the sale of old clothes, new lemons, sponges, French prints, and mosaic jewellery. The new Sphinx lives, when he is at home, in a small green box, that COLONEL STODARE, the clever prestidigitateur, ventriloquist, and Bengal basketeer, places on a table, the legs of which are visible to the naked eye, as to the double-barrelled opera-glass. The spectator sees an Egyptian head, the eyes and lips closed and compressed. At the word of command from the gallant colonel, given in the trumpettone, which ere that gallant officer laid down the sword and took up the conjuror's baton, battalions obeyed, the Sphinx opens its eyes, CRAWLEY.-I have seen them take a nugget worth millions. I will turns its head from right to left, and smiles. Imagine a Sphinx steal it, and then George will not be able to marry Sewsan. Music "Wedding March." ACT IV.-FARNBOROUGH. smiling! The notion of the usual prim audience at Exeter Hall singing "Slap bang" would be nothing to it, and then it speaks, in a deep, measured tone, and with a cadence that would remind us of tragedians but that it emphasises the proper words, and seems to understand what it is saying. Why do they not engage it at one of our national theatres? Its performance is extremely meritorious, and short, and in the language of the ancestors of Artemus Ward, "well worth the money alone for to see." We advise everybody to go and see it who is fond of Sphinxes, and it has this great merit over the CRAWLEY.-I have just returned from Australia. Fielding has Sphinxes of antiquity that it does not ask riddles, and eats nobody found an enormous nugget, and is in this very village. MEADOWS.-I am going to marry Sewsan to morrow. I have stopped all George Fielding's letters, and spread the report that he has married an aborigine. Enter CRAWLEY. up, except with curiosity to know how it is done. Tomkins (to fair neighbour):-" JAY TELLMONG LER HABITOOD DE PARLY FRONSY QUER JER FAY MAY PROPER REFLEXIONG (Aside)— CONFOUND THAT FRENCHMAN OPPOSITE, WHAT'S HE GRINNING AT ?" PATROCLUS From an unpublished Edition of LORD DERBY'S Homer.* PATROCLUS BEDFORDIDES, who among The groves of Woburn had been reared when young- So have you seen upon the mushroom wick Of tallow dip, in a flat candlestick, It is generally supposed that his lordship has translated Homer in blank verse, but this, as will be seen from our quotation, is an error. The huge extinguisher at once descend, HERE'S a chance! What do our readers say to this? SINECURE, £150 a Year. Consideration nominal.-Applications, by letter only, to Mr. M. P-, Teddington, Middlesex. Generous Mr. M. P.! He knows where a hundred and fifty pounds a year will be paid a man for doing nothing and yet does not grasp it for himself, but nobly offers it to the world at large. Consideration nominal, indeed!-his consideration for the wants of others is remarkable, glorious, transcendental (whatever that means), and makes one almost believe in human nature. By the way Teddington is a fishing place and people, we have heard, catch flounders there. Now the flounder is a flat-fish. |