The Sportsman is concocted out of excellent old material cleverly worked up, with only one new point in it, to which, as it has escaped the eye of the English adapter, it would be useless to draw his attention; yet, had he seen it, he might therefrom have developed a really original sequence of perplexing situations. The dialogue is not particularly brilliant; jerky, not crisp. But such is the "go" of the principals, and especially of Mr. HAWTREY, who is the life and soul of the farce, that the laughter is hearty and continuous.

raid on the gambling Club, and the husband escapes in any coat he can lay hold of, following the example of the unfortunate hero of Artful Cards, only that the situation at the end of that Second Act was far stronger in that play than it gains another. is in The Sportsman. In Artful Cards the unfortunate hero escaped, carrying a trombone, which turned up in evidence against him when he was inventing plausible explanations to his wife. In fact,

Briscoe, having lost one suit,

PATRIOTISM AT THE LAW COURTS.

(As we expect to see it.)

["THE INNS OF COURT AND THE VOLUNTEERS. -A Meeting was held yesterday afternoon in the Banqueting Hall of Lincoln's Inn for the purpose of taking such steps as might be deemed necessary to revive the former numerical strength of the Inns of Court Corps of Volunteers, now sadly below its proper strength."-Daily Paper.]

FREQUENT Meetings in the Banqueting Hall will soon rectify the "reduced condition," and, after a few gatherings, a gallant and learned Q.C. will don his ancient tunic, and present himself at Head Quarters.

99

"THE ETERNAL FEMININE!' (By a candid-if expricious-Conjugator.) Amo, amas-All love a lass! Amamus, amatis-Churls cry, jam satis! Amat, amant-But that's masculine cant! Amem, ames-We wish to please. Amemus, ametis-'Cos love so sweet is. Amet, ament-Man's never content! Amavissem-We yearn to kiss 'em. Amavisses-They accept our kisses. Ama, amato-Lips like a tomato. Amate, amanto-Move many a canto. Amare, amavisse-We marry sweet Missy. Amans, amaturus-Her charms to secure us. Amandum, amandi-As wives they come handy.

Amando, amandum-But we don't understand 'em.

Amandum, amando-Their novels are grand. oh! [slate you!" Amatum, amatu-Cries male critic, "I'll Amor, amaris, amatur-Woman goes like thunder when a starter! Amamur, amamini, amantur - And she swears she 'll lick us in a canter! Amemur, amemini, amentur - And 'twill take us all our time to prevent her!

O" atmospheric envelope" thy humour Is worse than-Blank's-if we may trust this [earth,

rumour.

Since microbe "humour" fills both air and
Farewell to honest fun and wholesome mirth!
Adieu to genial DICKENS, gentle HOOD!
Hail to the peddling pessimistic brood
Whose "nimini-pimimi" mouths, too small
by half

To stretch themselves to a Homeric laugh,
Mince, in a mirror, to the "Paphian Mimp!"
MOMUS is dead, and e'en that tricksy imp
Preposterous Puck hath too much native grit
To take the taste of OSRICK turned a wit.
Humour baccilophil, microbic merriment,
Might suit him better. He will try the ex-
periment.

His mirth's a smirk and not a paroxysm;

66

Papa, potatoes, poultry, prunes and prism" Do not disturb the "plie" of his prim lips, Neither do cynic quirks and querulous quips. Mirth would guffaw- when hearts and mouths were bigger, OSRICK would shrink from aught beyond a whim. snigger, Such as is stirred by screeds of far-fetched Ay! that's the humour o 't, sententious Nym. Let's hail a dying century's latest birth,The Newest Humour-purged from taint of Mirth!

MRS. RAM's practical knowledge of French is not marvellous. She was discussing the question as to whether the French Workingclasses cared for malt liquor as brewed in England. The excellent Lady observed-"I don't think so, because, if I remember rightly, when I was in Paris, I was told always to give the coachman money for drink, and this they called 'poor beer.' So they couldn't care for strong ale,' such as ours.'

VOL. CIV.

G

A METROPOLITAN MAYOR'S NEST. ["The Common Council is stated to have appointed a 'Fighting Committee to oppose the Unification of London, and to take steps for the formation of separate Municipalities in different parts of the Metropolis."-Daily Paper.] Lord Mayor's Day.-Ah, if only we had not got Parliament to sanction the plan of splitting London up into distinct Municipalities, what a proud day this would be for me! As it is, must try and remember that I am not LORD MAYOR of London at all, but only Mayor of the new Corporate Borough of Cripplegate Without, one of the half-dozen boroughs into which the old City has been divided. The Show.-Well, thank goodness, we do keep that up! All the 674 Mayors of all the different districts of London take part in it. That reminds me that I must put on my Civic robes, edged with imitation ermine, and my aluminium chain of office, and prepare to start. A little hitch to begin with. Mayors all assembled outside Guildhall. Mayor of South-South-West Hammersmith tries to join us. Nobody seems to know him. Very suspicious, especially as, on referring to official records, we find that there is no such borough as South-South-West Hammersmith! We tell him so. He replies, sulkily, that it was created last night by a Special Vote of the South-West Hammersmith Town Council, who found the work getting too much for them, and that, anyhow, he intends to take part in the procession." Awkward-but we have to yield.

In the Streets.-The 675 Mayors don't inspire as much respect as I should like. Perhaps it is due to the fact that a regular scramble took place for seats in the old LORD MAYOR'S Coach, in the course of which the Mayor of Tottenham Court Road was badly pommeled by the Mayor of Battersea Rise, and the coach itself had one side knocked out of it. Also that we other Mayors have to follow on foot, and are repeatedly asked if we are a procession of the Unemployed!

At the Law Courts.-In the good old days Lord Chief Justice used to deliver a flowery harangue congratulating the Chief Magistrate on his elevation. But who is the Chief Magistrate now? To-day a free fight among the Mayors to get first into the Court. and threatens to commit us for contempt! Yet surely in former In consequence, Chief Justice angrily orders Court to be cleared, days a Judge would have been imprisoned in the deepest dungeons of the Mansion House for much less.

Evening. The hospitable custom of the Ministerial banquet still retained. Prime Minister adopts tactics of the Music Hall "Lion Comique," and, after addressing a few genial words to the guests assembled at the table of the Mayor of West Ham, jumps into brougham, and appears a few minutes later at Mayor of Shadwell's banquet, and so on to Poplar and Whitechapel, and as many as he can crowd in. Other Ministers do the same. Still, not enough Cabinet Councillors to go round, and to-night I am horrified to find that the assistant Under-Secretary to the deputy Labour Commissioner had been chosen to reply to the toast of the health of the Ministry at my banquet! Ichabod, indeed! [By the way, what a good name for a new Lord Mayor "Ichabod;" say, if knighted, "Sir THOMAS ICHABOD." Air to be played by band on his entering Guildhall, "Ichabody meet a body." But alas! these are dreams! Ichabod ! Yet, as the only building in which the Mayor of Cripplegate Without can entertain his guest is the fourth floor of an unused warehouse, perhaps we really don't deserve a higher official. Still, one can't help regretting that the City, in its natural dread of the so-called "Unification of London," persuaded the Government to agree to this sort of "Punification of London."

THE MAN FROM BLANKLEY'S.

A STORY IN SCENES.

SCENE V.-The Dining-room; walls distempered chocolate; gaselier with opal-tinted globes; two cast-iron Cavaliers holding gas-lamps on the mantel-piece. Oil-portait, enlarged from photograph, of Mrs. TIDMARSH, over side-board; on other walls, engravings- "Belshazzar's Feast," "The Wall of Wailing at Jerusalem," and DORE's" Christian Martyrs." The guests have just sat down; Lord STRATHSPORRAN is placed between Miss SEATON and his hostess, and opposite Mr. GILWATTLE. Lord Strath. (to himself). Deuced quaint-looking people wish they wouldn't all eat their soup at me! Why can't somebody say something? Wonder who's the Lady in black, all over big silver tears-like a foreign funeral. Don't feel equal to talking to MARJORY again till I've had some Sherry. (After sipping it.) Wormwood, by Jove! Champagne will probably be syrup-touch old GILWATTLE up if he isn't careful-ah, he jibs at the Sherry! Uncle Gab. Where

having this out with MARJORY. (Aloud.) Miss SEATON, isn't it rather ridiculous for two such old friends as we are to sit through dinner in deadly silence? Can't you bring yourself to talk to me? a ruffian-it would start us, at any rate! we shan't be overheard. You might tell me why you think me such

Miss Seaton. I don't want to be started-and if you really don't know why I hate your coming here in this way, Lord STRATHSPORRAN, it's useless to explain!

I

may be very dense, but for the life of me I can't see yet why I Lord Strath. Oh, we got as far as that upstairs, didn't we? And shouldn't have come! Of course, I didn't know I was in for this exactly, but, to tell you the truth, I'm by way of being here on business, and I didn't care much whether they were cheery or not, so long as I got what I came for, don't you know!

Miss Seaton. Of course, that is the main thing in your eyes - but I didn't think you would confess it!

Lord Strath. Why, you know how keen I used to be about my Egyptian work-you remember the book on Hieroglyphs I always meant to write? I'm getting on with it, though of course my time's

Lord Strath. (ambiguously). Oh, not at all! [Turbot and lobster-sauce are taken round, and conversation becomes general).

Conversational Scraps. Assure you if I touch the smallest particle of lobster it instantly flies to my... Yes, alive. A dear friend of mine positively had to leave her lodgings at the seaside-she was so disturbed by the screams of the lobsters being boiled in the backkitchen... I was reading only the other day that oysters' hearts continue to beat down to the very moment they are being assimilated... What they must suffer, poor dears! Couldn't there be a law that they should only be eaten under chloroform, or something?... I never get tired of turbot-cod, now, I don't care for, and salmon I like-but I can't digest-why, is more than I can tell you.-(&c.) Miss Seaton. (to herself.) To see DOUGLAS here a-a paid parasite and actually seeming to enjoy his food-it's like some dreadful nightmare-I can't believe it! But I'm glad he hasn't the face to speak to me !

Lord Strath. (to SEAKALE offering Hock.) If you please. (To himself, after tasting.) Why, it's quite decent! I begin to feel up to

a good deal taken up just now. And, whether I get anything out of these people or not, I've met you again, MARJORY-I don't mind anything else!

Miss Seaton. Don't remind me of -of what you used to be, and-and you are not to call me MARJORY any more. We have met-and I only hope and pray we may never meet again. Please don't talk any more!

Lord Strath. (to himself.) That's a facer! I wonder if MARJORY's quite

is this the effect of that infernal influenza?

Mrs. Tid. (to him in an undertone). You and Miss SEATON appear to be on very familiar terms. I really feel it my duty to ask you when and how you made the acquaintance of my daughter's governess.

Lord Strath. (to himself). The governess! That explains a lot. Poor little MARJORY! (Aloud.) Really? I congratulate you. I had the honour of knowing Miss SEATON in Scotland a

year or two ago, and this is the first time we have met since. Mrs. Tid. Indeed? That is so far satisfactory. I hope you will understand that, so long as Miss SEATON is in my employment, I cannot allow her to-er-continue your acquaintanceship-it is not as if you were in a position

Lord Strath. (with suppressed wrath.) Forgive me-but, as Miss SEATON shows no desire whatever to renew my acquaintance, I don't see that we need discuss my position, or hers either. And I must decline to do so.

Mrs. Tid. (crimsoning.) Oh, very well. I am not accustomed to be told what subjects I am to discuss at my own table, but (scathingly) no doubt your position here gives you the right to be independent-ahoo!

Lord Strath. I venture to think so. (To himself.) Can't make this woman out-is she trying to be rude, or what?

Uncle Gab. Hullo, your Lordship's got no Champagne! How's that? It's all right- FIZZLER, '84," my Lord! Lord Strath. I daresay-but the fact is, I am strictly forbidden to touch it.