A COMIC OPENING.
A SUGGESTION FOR OUR PANTOMIMISTS.

UR pantomimists appear to have somehow
entirely overlooked one source of very
legitimate fun in their comic business.
Limited liability companies have afforded
so very little amusement to those who have
been unfortunate enough to become con-
nected with them, that it is only fair that
we should do our best to extract some fun
out of them as a compensation.
But our clowns appear to have missed
their tip on this point.

We would suggest that the scene should be the exterior of a city house of business. Enter clown, who goes through a little dumb-show, expressive of his desire to fill his pockets with money. He then takes the house of business by knocking at the door and lying down on the threshold. The landlord comes out and falls over him. Clown jumps up and exit into building, slamming door in proprietor's face.

Then presently re-enter Clown, got-up very "respectable." Dumbshow expressive of great business-ability, and strict honesty.

Enter Pantaloon, who desires to be taken into partnership. Clown asks for testimonials of probity and solvency. Pantaloon winks and slaps his pocket. They shake hands.

Clown points to the blinds of the house and signifies that the firm requires a name. His partner assents. Clown throws a summersault to signify that it is to be called the firm of "Overhead and Turney." Enter the British public, which deposits its money and receives bits of paper in return, which Clown represents to be shares.

LOOKS INTO BOOKS.

WE gladly welcome The Era Almanack, full of the most recondite and interesting information. The Calendar is compiled by MR. E. L. BLANCHARD, whose knowledge of stage history is unbounded, and this valuable feature is supplemented by amusing and instructive matter of every description. Mr. BYRON relates very comically the story of "The Rival Ritoorals," and MR. MURRAY discourses pleasantly about Milan Theatres. MR. HOWE notes down ably the history of the Opera Season of Sixty-eight, and MR. SAWYER sings his "Fairy Love musically. And in this way the contents are admirably varied, with regard to the utile et dulce. One of the funniest things in the Almanack, if you only picture to yourself the narrator going through the adventure he relates, is MR. BUCKSTONE's little story of the Havanna.

We think this might be introduced into one of our present panto

mimes with considerable effect.

mimes?

THE MOST SERIOUS PART OF THE PANTOMIME.-The comic "business."

"Two little babes dwelt in her humble cot,

THE BABY'S VENGEANCE.

EARY at heart and extremely ill

In a dirty lodging, with fever down,
Close to the Polygon, Somers Town.
PALEY VOLLAIRE was an only son
(For why? His mother had had but one)
And PALEY herited gold and grounds
Worth several hundred thousand pounds.

But he, like many a rich young man,
Through this magnificent fortune ran,
And nothing was left for his daily needs
But duplicate copies of mortgage deeds.

Shabby and sorry and sorely sick

He slept, and dreamt that the clock's "tick, tick,"
Was one of the Fates, with a long, sharp knife,
Snicking off bits of his shortened life.

He woke and counted the pips on the walls

The out-door passengers' loud foot-falls,
And reckoned all over, and reckoned again
The little white tufts on his counterpane.

A medical man to his bedside came

(I can't remember that doctor's name)

And said, "You'll die in a very short while

If you don't set sail for Madeira's isle."

"Go to Madeira ? goodness me!

I haven't the money to pay your fee!"

"Then, PALEY VOLLAIRE," said the leech, "good bye, I'll come no more, for you're sure to die."

He sighed and he groaned and smote his breast,

"Oh, send," said he, "for FREDERICK WEST,
Ere senses fade or my eyes grow dim,
I've a terrible tale to whisper him!"

Poor was FREDERICK's lot in life,

A dustman he with a fair young wife,

A worthy man with a hard-earned store,

A hundred and seventy pounds-or more.

Bal

FREDERICK came, and he said "Maybe,
You'll say what you happen to want with me?"
"Wronged boy," said PALEY VOLLAIRE, "I will,
But don't you fidget yourself-sit still.

"'Tis now some thirty-seven years ago

Since first began the plot that I'm revealing, A fine young woman, whom you ought to know, Lived with her husband down in Dram-lane, Ealing. Herself by means of mangling reimbursing, And now and then, at intervals, wet-nursing.

One was her own-the other only lent to her: Her own she slighted. Tempted by a lot

Of gold and silver regularly sent to her. She ministered unto the little other

In the capacity of foster-mother.

"I was her own, oh, how I lay and sobbed,

In my poor cradle-deeply, deeply cursing The rich man's pampered bantling, who had robbed My only birthright-an attentive nursing! Sometimes, in hatred of my foster brother,

I gnashed my gums-which terrified my mother.

"One day-it was quite early in the week-
I-in MY cradle having placed the bantling-
Crept into his! He had not learnt to speak,
But I could see his face with anger mantling.
It was imprudent-well, disgraceful, maybe,
For, oh, I was a bad, blackhearted baby!
"So great a luxury was food, I think

No wickedness but I was game to try for it.
Now if I wanted anything to drink

At any time, I only had to cry for it!
Once, if I dared to weep, the bottle lacking,
My blubbering involved a serious smacking!
"We grew up in the usual way-my friend,
My foster brother-daily growing thinner,
While gradually I began to mend

And thrived amazingly on double dinner.
And everyone, besides my foster mother,
Believed that either of us was the other.
"I came into his wealth-I bore his name,

I bear it still-his property I squandered

I mortgaged everything and now (oh, shame!)
Into a Somers Town shake-down I've wandered!
I am no PALEY-no VOLLAIRE-it's true, my boy!
The only rightful PALEY V. is you, my boy!
"And all I have is yours-and yours is mine,
I still may place you in your true position,
Give me the pounds you've saved, and I'll resign
My noble name, my rank, and my condition.
So far my wickedness in falsely owning
Your vasty wealth, I am at last atoning!"

*

FREDERICK he was a simple soul,

He pulled from his pocket a bulky roll,
And gave to PALEY his hard-earned store,
A hundred and seventy pounds or more!

PALEY VOLLAIRE, with many a groan,
Gave FREDERICK all that he'd called his own,
Two shirts and a sock, and a vest of jean,

A Wellington boot and a bamboo cane.

And FRED (entitled to all things there)

He took the fever from MR. VOLLAIRE,

Which killed poor FREDERICK WEST. Meanwhile VOLLAIRE sailed off to Madeira's isle.

Mark time!

SOME people have sneered because the Premier represents so small a constituency as Greenwich. They forget that it is an appropriate representation of one who has just reached the meridian of his power.

Be Blowed!

Or all pantomimic characters Pantaloon is most to be envied-he so often comes in for a "thumping" legacy.