TOWN TALK BY THE SAUNTERER IN SOCIETY. FUN. T happens most unfortunately for us that, CAPTAIN reason to disbelieve Northern accounts norance of the fact that the Federals 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- 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 Enter LEONE SALVIATI, disguised as an improvisatore. Have I well earned my money? ALL.-You have! LEONE.-Have I told you enough? Bianca, the daughter of the Duke d'Albizzi, Cosmo's deadly foe; and murderer is planted at every corner, I begin to think that I am MYST. P.-I have spared him because I shall inherit his wealth. LANDLORD.-I have been and murdered somebody in a wood. LEONE.-I am tired. LEONE. So do I. What can it be? ACT II.—Apartment in the D'Albizzi Palace. Enter MYSTERIOUS P. 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, 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. MYST. P.-It works bravely! ACT III.-The Deepest Dungeon beneath the Castle Moat. 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? 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? 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, 1 (to BIANCA). [LEONE changes to Harlequin. [BIANCA changes to Columbine. [WIDDIGOMB changes to Pantaloon. [MYST. P. changes to Clown. (to MR. WIDDICOMB).— (to MYST. P.)--- Rally. Coloured Fire. Comic Business. "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 very coolest "appeal" ever made in the interests of (veterinary) BETTER LATE THAN NEVER. Said WADDELL, the captain, politely, "Old hoss, The Donegal's captain smiled not in the least, "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." 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. |