I'm sure the life as the boys 'as led me since I've been 'ere nobody wouldn't credit but them as see it, for as to tellin' about 'em it ain't no use, for even BROWN, he only laughs at me, a-sayin' as boys will be boys. I says, "Let 'em be with all my 'eart," and a nice trouble, too, even in infancy as will seldom cut their eye-teeth without conwulsions, and 'ave knowed 'em myself at death's door in being weaned, as shows temper from the cradle, for I've seen my Joe would pull a cup of tea scaldin' 'ot all over you in a instant the day as he were short-coated, and only six months, and there was poor MRS. 'ARPER as took a pride in her fust, and would make 'im wear caps with a noble cockade, as he'd tear to ribbins in no time, and dribble himself through and through with a silver coral as 'is god-pa give 'im, and got a topper with it over 'is bald 'ead thro' not a-knowin' 'ow to 'old a child, and lost 'is tembur and throwed 'im on to the sofy that wiolent as might 'ave broke is neck, and no loss neither, for he turned out a bad lot, and run off to Australier, and is livin', I'm told, in style, as 'll be sure to come 'ome to 'im in the long run, no doubt.

As I was a-sayin', of all the limbs of Sattin its 'Merrykin boys as 'll haim at you with a loaded pistol and then turn round and say as it were only the bow on the crown of my bonnet as they wanted to see if they could cut off sharp over the pailins' and me a-standin' on the steps awaitin' for MRS. SKIDMORE, and made sure as I was dead, with the bullet stuck fast in the back-door, as I'd shet behind me through only a-puttin' my nose out for to see if it was that cold as I might require another shawl at night a-comin' 'ome.

It give me that dreadful shock as go out I could not, and when MRS. SKIDMORE went round 'erself to complain to their mother as is a quaker she called me a old flat to wear sich a thing on my 'ead, as is a lovely bonnet, and did used to be all the rage when I fust married, as I've 'ad it turned and altered thro' 'avin' been one as bent down in front like what Queen Caroline wore the day as she went down to be crowned at Westminster with the church door shet in 'er face, as she took it so to 'eart, and never 'eld up 'er 'ead again, tho' they do say a-takin' of laud'num on the top of magnesia were 'er 'ead, and 'er name struck out of the prayer book as was werry wrong, for if a bad woman she wanted their prayers all the more, not as the 'Merrykins knowed anythink about 'er no more than if she 'adn't never lived, and in course thro' not 'avin' no Kings and Queens is that ignorant, but I'm sure any one as is King over them did ought to 'ave a loaded cannon constant ready every instant, for if he didn't blow them to atomies they would 'im pretty quick, as was obligated to be shot down by 'undreds, as MRS. SKIDMORE'S Own aunt see 'em 'erself last July four years from 'er bedroom winder as wanted to burn all the little black babies as is orphins in their beds.

But as I were a-sayin' the boys is that awful in their behaviours as it ain't no wonder they grows up what they are, as goes to Sunday Schools werry reg'lar but never learns their duties, but only a-larkin' about, and the gals dressed up like as if they was a-goin' to dance on the tight-rope.

Since the frost 'ave set in I do think as it 'ave froze up all them boys' manners, as goes on like downright lunatics, a-slidin' all over the pavement, and wuss than that 'ave got little sledges as they drives all along without never a-carin' a bit where they're a-goin' to, or who's in front on 'em, as 'appened to me the day afore yesterday, when freezin' was a fool to what the cold was, and me got to go across the ferry to New York, as is full of ice, the boats a-bumpin' and acrunchin' thro' it that wiolent as you can't 'ardly keep your legs. Well, the ferry as I had to cross for to get over to New York is down a steep 'ill, as were that froze as you might slip from the top to the bottom and never feel your feet.

I ain't one as is much give to sliding, for when a gal I shall never forget the crack as I come on the back of my 'ead a-slidin' along the gutter in front of our 'ouse, as wasn't nothink to the bangin' as my dear mother give me with the hearth broom for playin' in the streets, as were a thing as she never allowed, and quite right too, for I'm sure them 'Merrykin boys and gals is downright ruined by that werry thing.

I 'adn't got werry far down that 'ill, as were downright glass for to walk on, when I 'eard a shoutin' behind me, I didn't dare to turn round for fear of slippin' but 'urried on, when there come such a shoutin' as made me turn round a little, and if I didn't see dozens of them boys a-layin' on their stomicks on them sledges a comin' slap at me full pelt.

I tried for to get out of the way, but law bless you the middle of the road was the only spot as I could keep my footin' on, so I tried for to run a little bit but 'adn't no time for to do nothink, for all them boys and their sledges was up with me in no time and seemed all to come behind me at once.

I was a-goin' to turn round and face 'em, but was swep' clean off my legs, and fell back'ards among all them boys, and away we all slid together ever so far and then upset.

Parties give a rush at me and dragged me up and sets me on my legs, and one says, "You're a nice old blather 'ead to go and set on boys like that as might have smashed 'em with your weight." says "Where's my umbreller ?"

I

They says "You've been and dropped it."

I says "It was knocked out of my 'and by them boys and I'll 'ave it;" but law bless you there ain't no law nor order to be 'ad, for when I told the perlice, as come up, he only says "You must go about with your eye-teeth skinned here or you'll lose your 'ead."

I was that shook with the fall, as if it 'ad been a Christshun country I'd 'ave gone 'ome in a cab, but there ain't sich a thing to be had, and when I come to look for it if my redicule wasn't gone, so I couldn't get across the terry thro' not 'avin' the money, as 'adn't no more about me, except what I carries about, sewed up where is best know'd to myself. I'm sure the work as I 'ad to get back 'ome, as only was managed by 'oldin' on to the railin's nearly all the way, for bless you, the 'Merrykins won't sweep away their snow from before their doors, as freezes over and over agin, and all I wishes is as them as don't sweep it up was the ones to fall, as never 'appens to them as it would serve right, but only to innocent parties as is took unawares.

But what aggrawated me with them boys was when I was a-walkin' up that 'ill, if they didn't take and foller me, a-'ootin' at me, and usin' such 'orrid low-lived expressions about me, and 'ad to crawl ome werry much shook, as was at fust afeard as my back was broke, the same as 'appened to poor MR. WALSH, as lived in Pitfield-street, 'Oxton, as did used once to keep a coal and 'tater shed in 'Oxton Old Town, and went to see 'is married daughter Boxin'-day, and stepped on a slide and fell that wiolent agin a man as 'ad a basket of crockery on 'is 'ead as sent 'im a-flyin' into a baker's winder, as were plate glass, as 'ad made a fortune with "down agin to even money," as I never could make out 'o sevenpence can be called even money, and 'ad to pay for the crockery as wasn't no great walue tho' a 'eavy load on the 'ead, and sp'ilt 'is pleasurin' with a lump on 'is back-bone spine as big as your fist, and never the man to walk as he did before, and never set up straight thro' want of strength; but MRS. SKIDMORE, she put me on a plaister as seemed to draw out the pain, tho' bruised frightful, as was no doubt thro' me a-comin' in that wiolent collusion with them boys agin the kerb-stone, as ketched me that sharp agin my 'ip, tho' I didn't feel it at fust as you often don't when that benumbed, tho' a frightful bruise, but was more of a eyesore than any real 'arm done, but all I've got to say is that 'Merrykin boys is that awdacious as will set their fathers at defiance open, and pay no more attention to a mother than if the wind was to blow, as is what I can't stand; but law, Joe's wife, she seems to like to see 'er eldest that cheeky, as she bust out a-larfin' at him when he says, "Ain't grandmother a big lump of a Britisher," as I didn't consider manners, but never said a word a-knowin' as she wouldn't like it, tho' I should 'ave corrected one of 'Liza's boys, but then it makes all the difference bein' my own daughter, as in course never can be a son's wife, but fully expects as that boy will turn out a limb, like the rest, some day, when least expected.

In the Paper.

THE latest novelty in New York, so says an American paper, has been a "paper ball." It is stated that the quaintest, most coquettish, and magnificent toilettes were composed of paper, which admirably imitated the materials generally used in making up an expensive COBtume. We cannot see that this is a great novelty for the land of by means of paper made to imitate materials," generally known as greenbacks. For years past, people had been not only clothed, but fed

Spicy.

TIFTOFF & Swell and no mistake so identifies himself with the

NOT FOR LAMBETH.-The New Cut-Filet de Cheval.

SOMETHING LIKE A TRADES' UNION.

BY A REAL WORKING MAN.

I CAN remember, in my time, when everybody was advised by street boys and such to "Flare up and join the Union," and little did I ever expect to see the day when that advice would be in a manner took; and all them that belong to what of late years it's been the fashion to call "the people" and the "working classes," would have "flared" and joined it. There's been a goodish deal made one way or another out of us working men by them that have called us "the people," and spoke to us as the "people," and in general jawed at us off of platforms as the "people," and have took the liberty to tell us how we ought to mind our own business, without putting of us in the way of having any particular business to mind. Noble lords as take up with philanthropy and wants to get into Parliament have come and talked to us as if we was great babies, and read easy po'try to us, and showed us magic lanterns, and made genteel jokes for us to laugh at;

The Union that can do that would be something like a Trades' Union, and there's a many now of my opinion who wish hearty that the money that's been subscribed for to keep so many of us on strike and to pay delegates and such, had been spent in stores so that we might meet the times when our wage was low. This was my talk to the missis last Saturday as we was going to the "People's Market," where we live, down Whitechapel way, and she says, "You're right enough, the same as your words is proved true by this very place, which is all under one head, the same as it's under one roof, for where there's such a union of the butchers and the grocers and the cheesemongers and the butter trades as brings food to many that didn't know where to look for it; which, in my opinion," she says, "legs at six-and-a-half, and shoulders at six, with good beef marrow as is better than any butter, at sevenpence, and all sorts of comfortable pieces cut fair for a few ha'pence, is what the working man requires.' Well," I says, "but who's at the expense of it all? Where's the head-quarters of the charity ?" "Charity!" she says; "it ain't no charity. It's a

and parsons have now and again took us in hand, and men of the people as have feathered their nests pretty tidy out of half-a-crown and a blue check pocket-handkercher that they started in life with, has told us pretty sharp of our duties, and wanted to know why we couldn't all of us feather our nests similar. And then at last comes the delegates and the representatives and the regular organizers as nobody wouldn't have thought could set the Thames a-fire, as the saying is, but which has yet managed to set us a-flaring up and a-joining of the Union to such a tune as the burning of Rome with the Emperor a-fiddling wasn't nothing to. The worst sort of this flaring is, that when it's gone out it leaves us with empty fireplaces, and we ain't got much to fall back upon except the ashes and the cold hearth where we see our wives and little ones setting with hungry bellies and no shoes on their feet. This is what it seems to be coming to with most of us working class as have been talked to as "the people," just as if there wasn't any other people; and when all comes to all, even if we can ruin the masters, or send them abroad to find these other people, and there's no more work to do, the funds wouldn't hold out while we learnt fresh trades. It does seem to me that what's wanted is to put us in the way of getting work at reasonable wages, and when times is bad putting us in the way of buying things at a reasonable price.

private business done at a good profit and nobody don't feel no dependence, which is the thing the working man don't ought to want." And I says, "Right you are, old woman, as usual."

Not Nice to a Shade.

THE accession of MR. DISRAELI to the premiership is so remarkable an event that it deserves more than a passing notice. It appears to us to be an excellent opportunity for the adoption of new colours by the Conservative party. It would be paying a graceful compliment to the noble ex-premier if the old cry of "true blue" were superseded by a new one-Darby and Jaune.

Done into Latin.

A YOUNG GENTLEMAN of our acquaintance, being asked to give a classical rendering of "Paddle your own canoe," promptly replied "Suum Caique!"

ON THE Square.-The First Life Guards-Fists.

SAY, can no effort prop the falling Stage;
No kindly knife the Dramas' pangs assuage?
Mine be the task, if not to wield the blade,
To scourge the men who should be first to aid.
Oh, critics, critics! who on first nights sit
And frame your judgments by a noisy pit-
Who take the verdict of a "paper" cram-
Whose praises are so faint they cannot damn-
Who dare not print the dulness you confess→→→
Sneer in the lobby-simper in the press :
To you I call-but since my call is vain,
I raise the lash, I trust, for wholesome pain.
Oh, scholar-I had nearly said, indeed,
"Oh, only scholar" of the Times-take heed!
The critic must not doze, though HOMER nod;
You bear the laurel, but you bear the rod.
That tender-hearted surgeon is a bane,
Who spares the cure, because he spares the pain!
What time a minor "critic" stole the pen
And won the laughter of all thinking men,
You had done well admonishment to take-
You, whom not nine times nine TOM TAYLORS make.
Borrow some gall from minor wits, to mend
The pen which never hurts or foe or friend!
Teach us the Times's criticism survives
For dramas as for Spiritual Wives!

Satire, of course, should only wield the scourge,
For giving bays excuses she must urge;
And yet the Daily News she'll praise, forsooth,
Because it says what it believes the truth;
And she will scorn no critic, so that he
Tell all the little truth that he can see.

The Standard's critic on occasion shows

How far much more than what he tells he knows ;
Chained by the custom of the critic tribe,
He glimpses at the faults he should describe;
Too ready ever on the generous side

To laud the merits, the defects to hide.

Would he but speak, more justice would he do
The stage-and his own reputation, too.
The Telegraph adopts the general tone-
Has seldom an opinion of its own;

Declares the door against that piece is slammed,
Which on the first night beyond doubt is damned;
And prophesies a run-or more or less-
For that which boasts legitimate success;
Winds in long-winded sentences about,
Which at the close would leave you in a doubt,
Save that like PLAGIARY'S "good-natured friend,"
Their kind intentions to discomfort tend.

Say, shall we pass-or is't to stoop too far?-
To note the critic of the Morning Star !
The Morning Star where erst an angry pen
Spluttered its comments upon rising men.
Who has ascended to the judge's throne,
Scarcely less shrewish, surely more unknown?
His latest notices proclaim at once

The private partizan or public dunce!

Who finds so much to praise in Daddy Gray,
Could scarcely note the minor sins of Play,
Unless some petty motives undefined
Disturbed the muddle which he calls a mind.

Farewell! oh, critics, till another day,
Meantime, like cricketers, just mind your play;
Condemn the bad with energy outright,
Praise not for favour-nor condemn for spite;
And so, perchance, your JUVENAL may say,
"Thank heaven! I've read a criticism to-day!"

FROM OUR STALL.

THE novel of Martin Chuzzlewit is too long and involved for dramatic treatment. Many of the characters diverge from the main road at an early stage of the story and return to it only toward the end. The book is full of episodes; a play that should follow all the intricacies of its plot and allow enough dialogue for anything like elaboration of its characters would require a whole evening for representation. At the Olympic we have a somewhat shadowy version of DICKENS; a recent reading of the tale is absolutely requisite for the full comprehension of the drama. The dialogue of the original is preserved as far as possible in this adaptation and gives it peculiar liveliness. With the acting of Martin Chuzzlewit we have little fault to find. MR. VINCENT must contrive to carry himself twenty-five years back in the article of dress; MR. ASHLEY must wash the stains of gunpowder from his visage, unless he wishes to give evidence against some Fenian who has fired five shots at him from a revolver, in the neighbourhood of Wych-street; and the lady who plays Mercy Pecksniff must show less of a remarkably handsome bust. MR. CLARKE is a lovely Sarah Gamp, snuffy-senile-and utterly heartless. MR. HORACE WIGAN represents admirably the passive side of Jonas Chuzzlewit's brutal nature, but he scarcely realizes the active portion of it; he dresses the part splendidly. MR. ADDISON is not sufficiently tall for the Pecksniff designed by PHIZ; this, however, is a misfortune and not a fault-so that MR. ADDISON may plume himself on playing the part as well as any actor of the same height possibly could play it. MR. SOUTAR makes up carefully for Mark Tapley, and plays as characteristically as the text of his part allows. MISS LOUISA MOORE is a fascinating Mary Graham, in spite of the hideous bonnet which archæology compels her to wear. (What guys the women must have been in 1843! Thank goodness we are not old enough to recollect the costume of that period). MISS FARREN as Young Bailey is worth going ever so many miles to see; the character exactly suits her, and she plays it with an enormous amount of spirit. Some very pretty scenes have been painted for this drama.

At Drury Lane a piece by COLONEL A. B. RICHARDS has been brought forward. MESSRS IRVING AND MCINTYRE do all in their power to make it go. The piece is evidently written by a gentleman of refined and even poetic mind, but the melodramatic tendency of its plot renders it unfit for any prominent place in the Drury Lane bills; it has a transpontine smack about it.

We were happy to see a full house on the occasion of the MAY benefit at Drury Lane the other morning; and we must congratulate the promoters of the entertainment on the result of their praiseworthy exertions.

Answers to Correspondents.

[We can take no notice of communications with illegible signatures or monograms. Correspondents will do well to send their real names and addresses as guarantees. We cannot undertake to return unaccepted MSS. or Sketches, unless they are accompanied by a stamped and directed envelope; but we cannot enter into correspondence regarding them, nor do we hold ourselves responsible for loss.]

ALEPH.-It is rather late in the day to find fault with the writings of Francis Quarles.

PAX.-Peace!

A. B. C. (Post-Office) has the coolness to tell us that "the following occurred to him this morning"-the following being the ancient definition of "Matter-never mind," and "Mind-no matter."

PECKHAM RYE.-The "Saunterer" is much obliged to you. "LEAP-FROG IN THE CIVIL SERVICE" would, we think, hardly be permitted under "KING STORK (8)."

CORA L.-Lines not suitable. Fun's "mowing" is more nearly related to mopping than to cropping.

PETER PIPER writes us an abusive letter and asks, "Will you have the pluck to publish this ?" To which we answer "Yes, if he will have the pluck to come and acknowledge writing it."

A FREE-TRADER (New-square).-The epigram is too personal, the lines not good enough.

C. J. G. (Dublin).-The title of the cartoon you mean was simply "Recreation."

P. L. C. (Liverpool).-We are much obliged.
K. (Erskine-street, Liverpool).-Thanks.
ZERO is left out in the cold.

MONS. PARTURIENS.-Your song is most ridiculus mus-ic, but not quite suitable. Next time you strike the lyre we'll hope it will prove a hit.

Declined with thanks:-A. H., Maida Vale; Lutterworth; L. B. P.; E. H., Dublin; Brooks; J. P., Old Broad-street; D. J. F.; H. B. R., Bishop Stortford; Leonard; I. R. Z. A. B.; B. C., Wallingford; P. V., Macclesfield; A. W. O., Cambridge; W. P., Fulham; Truro; Cantab, J. B., Jun.; R. B., Torquay; G. G. F., Liverpool; J. C. R., CamdenHammersmith; A Fact; A Constant Reader; J. H. N., Houghton; square; J. B. T., Brighton; S. G., Liverpool; Tyro; G. M., Bedford-row; J. T., Bristol; J. T. L., Lincolnshire; A Lady Subscriber; E. C., Kensington; C. A. B., Temple; Claude, Dublin; Delta; Nemesis; Mercredi, Liverpool; R. D. B., Clapham; Mary Hann.