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TOWN TALK

BY THE SAUNTERER IN SOCIETY.

FUN.

T happens most unfortunately for us that,
while we and the Americans are in the
position of a dog and cat, not quite
decided on the next move, on the ques-
tion of wrongs and redresses, as to
injuries inflicted by English - built
cruisers on the Federal merchantmen,
the Shenandoah should steam into port
and deliver herself up to us.
WADDELL's course has not been quite
straightforward. He might have had

CAPTAIN

reason to disbelieve Northern accounts
of Northern success (which certainly
was proclaimed long before it existed),
but his disbelief was too long-lived
and too unreasoning. Reiterated reports
of a thing not at all unlikely to take
place should have induced him to run
to a neutral port and learn the truth.
It is a little hard to believe that he
should have been so long in real ig-

norance of the fact that the Federals
had captured Richmond, and that the
Southern Confederacy had become a
thing of the past.

1

THE DUKE OF BUCCLEUCH-every one will remember how popular that nobleman made himself in reference to the Thames Embankment-has contrived to get his name mixed up with a queer scandal that is just now creating some excitement in the musical world. The University of Edinburgh have appointed to the Professorship of Music, rendered a certain MR. OAKELEY, whom they elect with a great fanfarade of vacant by the death of MR. DONALDSON, trumpets, about the difficulty of choice, &c. Among the candidates for the post were, besides others, HULLAH and MACFARREN, both known men-but the unknown relative of the bold-very bold, BUCCLEUCH, wins the day. The English School of Music has long been in a bad way, but the crowning insult has been reserved till now, when a university considers its interest of so little importance that it puts by recognised composers for a ducal duffer.

DOES anybody remember a brief but brisk battle between the artists and a pseudo art-critic, who went about hawking friendly notices to painters weak enough to pay an exorbitant price for a worthless series of lectures? I'm afraid he is almost forgotten; but I came on him again the other day in that refuge for the destitute the Times supplement. He is as fine as ever, gliding with a noble disregard of the common rules of composition from the dignified distance of the third person into the interested importunity of the first.

PARTNERSHIP. No charge to parties investing, nor any charge to parties re-
quiring partners unless business be done. Mr. B. C. J-, wants £5,000 to
£10,000 for a first-class brewery and an active partner; also several businesses for
clients with sums varying from £500 to £7,000. Send me nothing chimerical, as I'll
not touch any but bona-fide matters. No. 1,
etc.

He has evidently renounced art-criticism as a chimerical speculation, and is going in for malt and hops. Dear, dear! to think of the Censor on whose dictum depended a painter's fate-especially if he hadn't bought the lectures-descending to an agency for arranging Iartnerships in the coal and 'tater line, or bringing two active brewers together.

How

WHAT splendid speeches GLADSTONE has been making! Oxford must blush now to think she rejected such a scholar and such an orator for one who will do her most credit by his silence. The time will come when the speeches of our political Chrysostom, the Goldenmouth of Parliament, will be read by an enlightened and educated generation, that will wonder how we could talk of the orators of the past while his voice was ringing in our ears. Mind you, I say this with no reference to politics.

I SAID the other day I would take a survey of the Winter Exhibition at the French Gallery, and I have kept my word-and don't mind how often I repeat the process. SANDYS' "Mary Magdalen" is a picture such as one can expect to see about once in a lifetime. I'd give many of the much-prized Old Masters for it without grudging. Then there's a joint-production in the form of a screen, on which a friendly coterie have expended some good painting, and some quaint fancies. When I purchase it I shall have the quotations from SHAKESPEARE, given in the catalogue, illuminated on the gold frame, for they are very aptly culled from a writer who, in spite of the talk, is very little read. HOOK, HUGHES, CALDERON, WATSON, LUCAS, and DILLON

[NOVEMBER 18, 1865.

also contribute capital work. FRITH and WARD are vulgar and meretricious, and, in fact, the R.A.'s and "swells," as a rule, have failed.

proprietor of the French Gallery of disingenuously cribbing somebody WHEN I make a mistake I don't scruple to correct it. I accused the else's title, whereas it appears "The Winter Exhibition" is a title that has always belonged to 120, Pall-mall.

obliged to come out with a poor adaptation. This is disappointing to IN consequence of the retirement of MISS NEILSON, the Lyceum is those who, like myself, look to FECHTER for something good-but he plenty without that:-a new comedy at the Prince of Wales (though could hardly help himself under the circumstances. However, there's Lucia is attractive enough without any other aid), and Rip Van Winkle ought to be enough at one time. The world will be glad to learn that MR. JEFFERSON settles in England, whereby this country is the richer by a good actor.

theatrical manager has not been without its effect. A glance at the bills will show that "Never too late to Mend" is now prefaced every I AM glad to see that the lecture which FUN delivered to a certain night by "An Ample Apology." The Serf has been mercifully removed from the Olympic boards-if the new piece is no better, at all events, it can't be worse, and it will be new, which is a relief; after a long attack of neuralgia one is rather grateful than otherwise for a sharp twinge of rheumatism, if only for the change.

THE WATCH CRY.

ACT I.-Interior of an Inn, terrace at the back. Beyond terrace, a hilly
country; below terrace, an underground cavern extending many miles
beyond the farthest hills. Peasants discovered drinking.
still I sometimes do a little in my old line of business.
PROPRIETOR OF INN.-Once I was a bravo, now I keep an inn. But

Enter LEONE SALVIATI, disguised as an improvisatore.
give you a bag of sequins.
ALL.-Tell us the story of the Five Brothers Salviati, and we will

Have I well earned my money?
LEONI. I will. Listen. The five brothers swore to defend Cosmo
di Medici. In doing so three of them were killed, and two survive.

ALL.-You have!

LEONE.-Have I told you enough?
ALL.-Quite enough!

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Bianca, the daughter of the Duke d'Albizzi, Cosmo's deadly foe; and
we have a child—a small boy. But nobody knows it!
LEONI (confidentially to audience). —I have clandestinely married
I will give you a bag of sequins.
Enter a Mysterious Person in a Mask.
MYST. P. (to landlord).-Go and murder somebody in a wood, and
LANDLORD.-I will.
· MYST. P.-Ha! ha! No one knows that I am Judael-but soft!
[Goes and murders somebody in a wood.
Enter COSMO DI MEDICI.

murderer is planted at every corner, I begin to think that I am
COSMO. As everybody is trying to assassinate me, and as a
betrayed.
MYST. P.-Here is a passport; it will take you across the frontier.
COSMO.-Thank you.
[Exit across the frontier.

MYST. P.-I have spared him because I shall inherit his wealth.
Enter LANDLord.

LANDLORD.-I have been and murdered somebody in a wood.
MYST. P.-Good!
LANDLORD.-Ha! I don't feel well. No matter.
[Poisons landlord, and exit.
Enter LEONE SALVIATI.

LEONE.-I am tired.
LANDLORD.-Have something to drink? (Gives him drink from
poisoned cup.) I feel very unwell.

LEONE. So do I. What can it be?
LAND.-Perhaps we are poisoned! In fact, I'm sure we are. [Dies.
LEONE.-Oh, agony, so we are!
[Falls senseless.

ACT II.—Apartment in the D'Albizzi Palace. Enter MYSTERIOUS P.
act. Cosmo rules in Florence, and is going to marry Bianca, the
MYST. P.-Fifteen years are supposed to have elapsed since the last
widow of Leone Salviati.

I

Enter Cosмo and BIANCA. MYST. P.-There is a page, Silvio, who is very fond of Bianca. [Exeunt Cosmo and BIANCA. think it is only right that Cosmo should know it. Enter COSMO and BIANCA. MYST. P.-In a casket in Cosmo's sleeping-room are some papers [Exeunt Cosmo and BIANCA. that will establish something. How shall I get at them? for fifteen years in the underground dungeons of this palace, so he is, Enter COSMO and BIANCA. of course, the very man for my purpose. Besides, he is dumb-so MYST. P.-I have it. There is a poor devil who has been imprisoned [Exeunt Cosмo and BLANCA. dumb that he can neither read nor write. [Exit Myst. P.

Enter SILVIO.

COSMO (to LEONE).

SILVIO (confidentially).—It is all right between Bianca and me, for I [NOTE-Unfortunately, on the occasion of our visit to the Lyceum Theatre,
the curtain fell a few minutes before the piese was finished, and the
am the son of the late Leone Salviati, and she is my mother, and a
following lines were consequently cut out.]
man may not marry his, but pshaw!
[Exit Silvio.
Enter MYST. P. and LEONE SALVIATI, chewing a straw to show that he
has been imprisoned for at least fifteen years.
MYST. P.-Go and take a casket from Cosmo's sleeping-room, and
you shall have your liberty!
[LEONE goes to steal the casket.
Enter Cosmo and BIANCA.
[Exeunt Cosмo and BIANCA.
[Enter LEONE with casket,
MYST. P. (taking casket).-Empty! Foiled! And I can establish
nothing!

MYST. P.-Ha! he comes!

Enter Cosmo and BIANCA.

COSMO-Somebody has stolen a casket from my room, and I rather think it is Silvio.

Enter SILVIO.

SILVIO.-Nay, sire, I may have my faults, but (proudly) I am no burglar!

moat.

MYST. P.-No. The thief is here! [Pointing to LEONE SALVIATI. COSMO.-Away with him to the lowest dungeon beneath the castle [They away with him. Exeunt Cosmo and BIANCA. Enter MR. WIDDICOMB. MYST. P. (to Mr. Widdicomb).—Mr. Widdicomb, go to Silvio's ahamber-if you do not hear the Watch-cry "ARCHERS OF THE PALACE, WATCH!" in ten minutes, kill him. If you do, don't. MR. WID.-"Tis well.

[Exit Mr. Widdicomb.
[Erit Myst. P.

MYST. P.-It works bravely!
Enter LEONE SALVIATI, who is not dumb after all, but (no doubt for some
good reason of his own) has pretended to be so for fifteen years.
LEONE SALVIATI (to Sentry below the window).—ARCHERS OF THE
PALACE, WATCH!

ACT III.-The Deepest Dungeon beneath the Castle Moat.
SILVIO. I am suspected of being in love with my poor old mother,
Bianca. But a man may not marry his, but pshaw !
Enter LEONE SALVIATI.

LEONE.-Escape! I was confined here for fifteen years, and I know every stone in the place. It never occurred to me to do so, although it is the simplest thing in the world; but I had reasons of my own. SILVIO. But how?

LEONE.--You have only got to get out of that window, by tearing your blanket into strips. Notwithstanding that this is the deepest dungeon beneath the castle moat, there is a fall of a hundred feet or so from the window.

SILVIO. But who are you?
LEONE.— You are your mother's son !
SILVIO. Then you must be my father!
LEONE.-Yow!!!
LEONE.-NOW escape.
SILVIO-I will!

Enter Cosmo and BIANCA.

LEONE. My son is safe!

[They kiss each other frantically.

Enter MYST. P.

MYST. P.-Where is the prisoner?

LEONE. He has escaped.

MYST. P.-What-you are not dumb?
LEONE.-No.

MYST. P.-Then die!

LEONE-Not so. I have a sword.

[Escapes. [Exeunt Cosmo and BIANCA.

MYST. P. (aside).—There is a secret trap between him and me, I will lure him on to it, and he will fall in! (Aloud.) Are you aware that I am the cause of all your misery?

LEONE.-Yow!!!

MYST. P. (aside).-Good-he advances! (Aloud.)-I am the evil genius of your family. 'Twas I that strangled the family kitten! LEONE. YOW!!! yow!!!

MYST. P. (aside).-Good-he advances! (Aloud.) 'Twas I that filled your boots every morning with black beetles! LEONE.-YOW!!! yow!!! yow!!!

Your troubles now shall end, and joys begin,
So change at once to spangled Harlequin!

1

(to BIANCA).

[LEONE changes to Harlequin.
Bianca, with Leone you shall shine,
Change into graceful, sprightly Columbine!

[BIANCA changes to Columbine.
Now, Mr. Widdicomb, I'll change you soon
Into a feeble, crazy Pantaloon!

[WIDDIGOMB changes to Pantaloon.

[MYST. P. changes to Clown.

(to MR. WIDDICOMB).—

(to MYST. P.)---
Mysterious Person, roam about the town,
As merry, laughing, mischief-loving Clown!

Rally. Coloured Fire. Comic Business.
CURTAIN,

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"Egg of the Moa or Dinornis, from New Zealand. MR. J. C STEVENS has received instructions to offer for sale by auction at his Great Room, Covent-garden, on Friday, the 24th day of November, 1865, at two o'clock, a specimen, nearly perfect, of this very rare and remarkable egg, the bird of which is now presumed to be quite extinct. The egg has just arrived, per ship Ravenscraig, and is probably the Dinornis ingens of Owen. The egg will be on view the day prior and morning of sale."

(Here follows an account of the discovery of the egg, from the Wellington papers.)

This egg, the bird of which is presumed to be extinct, which is nearly a perfect specimen, and is probably the Dinornis ingens, whatever that may be, of Owen, has no yolk inside it, and the shell is cracked, which cheering facts are supposed to increase its value in the eyes of a virtuoso or a collector. It-the egg, and not the virtuoso or collectorhas been insured for a thousand pounds. How refreshing it is to hear that it has "just arrived," per ship Ravensoraig (this ought to be Ravens(cr)egg), and is probably, &c." The estimated value of this exquisite specimen of what might have been a bird had it been hatched, and lived to have feathers and to moult, is enormous. One amiable enthusiast he is still at large, and treated in the kindest manner by his family has offered £250 for it, but that paltry sum has been refused indignantly, and the egg is still open to competition. No family should be without one, and doubtless the egg, which is " probably the Dinornis ingens of Owen"-remember that-will become the prize of some fortunate capitalist. It will be cheap at £500. Possibly if it fetches a decent price it will incite an emulation in the breasts of the natives of New Zealand to discover more Moas-may we say Moa Moas ?-indeed the sale by auction of the eggs of extinct birds is what London Arabs would call "a new lay."

Poor Deer!

"PROFESSOR GAMGEE is appealing to any public-spirited nobleman, who may be able to spare a deer from his park, to send one or two to the Albert Veterinary College, with a view to determine whether the

MYST. P. (aside.)—Good — he advances! (Aloud.) 'Twas I that animal is liable to infection by the cattle plague." Perhaps this is the
blunted the edge of your razors every morning!
LEONE.-YOW!!! yow!!! yow!!! yow!!!

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very coolest "appeal" ever made in the interests of (veterinary)
science. Cannot PROFESSOR GAMGEE rest satisfied with his licence to
kill, and to prevent all attempts to cure diseased cows and oxen,
without seeking an apology for the destruction of a distinct species of
animals, among which no symptom of the cattle plague has yet
appeared? We trust that all public-spirited noblemen, with more
deer than they know what to do with, will hit upon some better plan
of getting rid of them than sending them to try and catch the affec-
tion so learnedly and complacently pronounced by PROFESSOR GAMGEE
to be incurable. We also trust that our artists will miss the oppor-
tunity-valuable as it may be in an occasional dearth of subjects for
the weekly "cartoon"-of depicting MR. GAMGEE, in As You Like
It, addressing his "lords," the inspectors, as follows:-"Come, let us
go and kill us venison."

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BETTER LATE THAN NEVER.
THE Donegal's captain was walking the deck
With his Dolland tucked under his elbow,
When he was aware of a certain small speck
On the (which I'm unable to tell)-bow.
The look-out perceived it as well, and he cried
At once,
"On the deck there, below! A
Strange sail!" And soon after she came alongside
The Confederate ship, Shenandoah.

Said WADDELL, the captain, politely, "Old hoss,
I've just learnt that six months ago nearly
The Yankees have guv the Confederate goss,
So I guess I cave in purty clearly."

The Donegal's captain smiled not in the least,
But whipped under his elbow his Dolland:
Says he, "Have you heard that QUEEN ANNE is deceased,
And the Dutch have made capture of Holland?

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"CONINGSBY HARANGUES."

A COUPLE of years ago, one "R. CONINGSBY" made himself rather conspicuous by a letter to the Times, in which he declared that the working-men of England were indifferent to political reform, and preferred "reading PLATO in a translation."

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MR. CONINGSBY has since been the manager of what he calls an Anglo-French Exhibition," at the Crystal Palace, and he now addresses a circular to the exhibitors, from which we select a few delightful morsels. "The exhibition has been financially a failure," he admits. What of that? "I would, however, humbly submit to you that an undertaking like the one in which you, sir, and I, have been engaged, can scarcely be fairly judged from the pecuniary point of view." Why not? "The pecuniary point of view" is a test which we do not scruple to apply to MR. GLADSTONE, shall we be more squeamish with MR. CONINGSBY? "Under these circumstances, more especially when the costliness and horrors of war are considered, my committee believe that in this their attempt to celebrate a jubilee of peace by means of an international exhibition, their labour has not been altogether thrown away." We dare say it has not. MR. CONINGSBY is hardly a fool. But what is the meaning of the cant about "the costliness and horrors of war ?" prizes of intrinsic value." PLATO, if you like; but not silver plate, "Owing to the pecuniary embarrassments of the comoh! MR. CONINGSBY, however, is ready to give ". mittee, I regret to have to announce that they will be unable to give exhibitor to use the dies of the committee to have a silver medal struck permission to the if wished for." There is something rather neat in this idea, "every man his own medallist!" And finally the exhibitor is to be allowed be invited." We are rather curious to know the names of the "emito dine with MR. CONINGSBY on payment of five shillings. nent public men" who are anxious to have anything more to do with eminent public men have already promised to attend, and others will "Several MR. CONINGSBY.

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A LITTLE BEHIND THE TIMES.

Captain of the Shenandoah (to British Pilot) :-"CAN YOU TELL ME WHETHER QUEEN ANNE IS DEAD?"

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