Chapter XX: Act THREE (8)

We thought we had heard enough of the rows with the Caffres at the Cape; but there have lately been some Caffres cutting the oddest capers at Hyde Park Corner. It seems that a noble Caffre chieftain has entered into an agreement for himself and a few of his tribe to howl, leap, brandish tomahawks, and indulge in other outlandish freaks, coming under the head of "native customs," for a year and a half, during which period the howlings, tomahawkings, &c., are to be the exclusive property of an individual who has speculated on the appetite of the British public for yells and wild antics. Things were going on pretty comfortably, with the exception of an occasional "outbreak"--which means the breaking-in by a Caffre of some other Caffre's, or somebody else's head--when the chief was seized with a generous desire to make a gratuitous exhibition of himself, and accordingly NKULOOCOOLO--as the chief calls himself--took a turn in the Park on Thursday last with four of his fellow countrymen.

The proprietor of the yells and native dances, fearful that the gilt would be taken off the gingerbread complexions of the Caffres if their faces were made familiar to the public in Hyde Park, sent a policeman to take the "chief" into custody. NKULOOCOOLO, however, who seems to take the thing coolly as well as cavalierly--or Caffrely--refused to walk in, but stood outside the door, rendering it hopeless that anybody would pay half-a-crown to "walk up," when the chief was to be seen "alive, alive" for nothing at the threshold. The proprietor endeavoured to push the chief inside, but the chief gave a counter-push, and there seemed a probability of a war-whoop being got up at the expense rather than for the benefit of the enterprising individual who had engaged the whoopers. Upon this the chief was taken into custody and charged with an assault, and with having desired the proprietor (in Caffre) to "look out"--an expression which, though not very alarming in English, seems to have had in Caffre a very frightful effect on the mind of the hearer. Perhaps, being familiar with the club exercise of the Caffres, he might have reason to fear that their "native customs" would make them rather awkward customers.

The complainant was, however, most properly told by the Magistrate that the Caffres cannot, by law, be restrained from going wherever they please, though they may have agreed to whoop and yell, but their whooping and yelling can only be enforced by civil process. If a Caffre chooses to take a walk in the Park, or anywhere else, he has a perfect right to do so, if he does not break the law by tomahawking the public, or any other "native" eccentricity. The "proprietor" seemed to feel himself rather aggrieved that he could not dispose of the Caffres in any way he pleased, but it would be rather too absurd, that the principle of slavery and absolute control over the person of a human being should be recognised for the benefit of an individual who has speculated in the attraction of savage yells and barbarian antics.

* * * * *

THE PARSON'S PARLIAMENT.

Every now and then we read in the papers an account of the Convocation of Prelates and Clergy, at which, by general consent, nothing seems to be done, and nobody appears to be present. If this assembly, which never assembles, and a body, which nobody troubles himself to form, is supposed to represent the Church, we must admit that the representation is--as far as sinecurism is concerned--a very faithful one. The proceedings at the last meeting consisted of a rather dull duett, between the Archbishop's commissioner and his Grace's registrar. The latter in a lengthened solo gave the whole writ of prorogation at full length, and the former chimed in at the conclusion with an announcement that the business of the day was ended. The scene of this melancholy farce is always the Jerusalem Chambers. It would perhaps give life to the scene if MR. COOK would lend from ASTLEY'S a Jerusalem pony or two by way of affording a little fit companionship to the commissioner and registrar, who must be rather sick of each other, and might be glad to welcome a little congenial society. The addition we have suggested might be sanctioned, under the plea that the Vicar of Bray would then have a representative.

* * * * *

OUR CITY ARTICLE.

The present financial crisis appears to demand from _Mr. Punch_ one of those Money Articles with which he has stepped forward in other times of difficulty, and which have instantly restored stability and confidence. Regardless, therefore, of his own personal comfort, he attended the Stock Market one day during the past week.

_Mr. Punch_ was struck by the exceeding helplessness of the gentlemen in whose hands is the political thermometer, better known as the Funds. They displayed an avidity in grasping at the slightest hint, which was only equalled by the hurry with which they sprang away to do something, before they comprehended the real bearing of the information. Indeed, if these gentlemen of the Stock Exchange waited until they understood the actual tendency of the events upon which they deal, some of them might wait long enough. _Mr. Punch_ casually remarked to a friend that "ABERDEEN was out this morning," and there was a rush of fifty men eager to buy on account of the good news. Had they paused to hear _Mr. Punch_ add, "walking in Kensington Gardens," they might have spared their trouble. Subsequently, the same gentleman was heard to say, "Not so tight as it was." Away hurried the correspondents of the papers, and told everybody that the tightness of the market was disappearing. _Mr. Punch_ merely alluded to his hat, which had been a little uncomfortable until he had his hair cut. "Will open flatly," an observation _Mr. Punch_ simply applied to the Princess's Theatre, was construed into a prophecy of the state of the Market next day, and business was done accordingly. But the greatest _coup_, and one for which MR. GLADSTONE owes _Mr. Punch_ a good turn, was the latter gentleman's saying, as he left the Exchange, "Those new Stocks are the best, because they always keep up so well." The new creations, for whose non-popularity the CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER has been much twitted by financiers who do not know discount from premium, immediately sprang into activity, and yet _Mr. Punch's_ remark was simply _apropos_ of his friend's wearing a rather seedy tie round his neck. He hopes that Exchequer Bill, as the RIGHT HON. WILLIAM is rather irreverently called in the City, will remember this good service next time _Mr. Punch_ hints that it is time the duty should come off paper.

While the news was favourable to Russia, the Bears were very elate, but as soon as it was known that _Punch_ had declared against ABERDEEN and for an English policy, the Bulls exulted. SHAKSPERE was quoted at random, but usually wrongly. The jobbers were scarce, owing to the Irish Brigade being out of the country. There was a rumour that a large operator had come, but it turned out to be only a fat surgical practitioner who had mistaken his way, and was, of course, exposed to the graceful jocularity of the House. A Bank Director came on and made some practical jokes, from which it was surmised that the Bank reserve was very small. Prices jumped about on every side, and so did little boys, whom the beadle chased, declaring he would have them there at no price. Some of the speculators appeared very uneasy, especially those who had a good way to go home, and thought it was going to rain. Finally, _Mr. Punch_ was informed that things closed with much firmness at four, but he believes this must apply to the gates.

Under all circumstances, _Mr. Punch_ strongly advises holders to be neither rash nor fearful, while sellers should abstain alike from temerity and timidity. All parties had better be guided by circumstances, and not attempt to lay down Medo-Persian rules for themselves. Let Prudence be their beacon, and Wisdom their chart. They will do well to watch the course of events, but not to surmise that they understand them, while at the same time taking care not to shut their eyes to contingencies. A thing may happen, or it may not, but the wise man will discern the signs of the times. By following this advice, which _Mr. Punch_ has carefully framed upon the model of what is given by all the recognised financial authorities, he has no doubt that through the shoals of the present crisis the Bark of Public Confidence may be steered into the haven of prosperity.

* * * * *

THE IMPERTINENCE OF SCIENCE.

Somebody has invented an instrument which he calls a Lunarium, and which is calculated to look so very closely into the Moon's face, that the Moon's age--exact to a quarter of an hour--may be discovered. Really this seems hardly fair towards the Moon, for it ought to be remembered that

"Luna, Luna, Luna's a lady."

and no lady--at least none of our acquaintance--could stand against the force of an instrument so powerful as to detect every furrow, wrinkle, or even crease in her countenance. It is all very well for the sons of science to be continually staring Luna in the face, through the medium of powerful telescopes; but having satisfied themselves of the "Moon's Age," they might surely be satisfied without continually publishing the fact for the gratification of an impertinent curiosity.

* * * * *

MODERN MYTHOLOGY.

One of our serious contemporaries, in recording a fashionable marriage, describes the bride as "led to the hymenaeal altar." The nuptial rites were celebrated at St. George's, Hanover Square; and we are further informed that the REV. BERRY M. HUNTINGDON officiated. We did not know that the priests of Hymen were styled Reverend, nor were we aware that the divinity in question had any altar in St. George's church.

* * * * *

WHAT THE "BRITISH GRENADIER" IS INEVITABLY COMING TO.

Some talk of ALEXANDER, and some of PERICLES,
Of HECTOR, and LYSANDER, and such old Guys as these;
But of all the horrid objects, the "wust" I do declare,
Is the Prusso-Russo-Belgo-Gallo-British Grenadier.

* * * * *

Integrity of Foreign Powers.

The preservation of the integrity of the Ottoman Empire is no doubt a very important object; but a matter of no less consequence is the restoration of the integrity of the Kingdom of Spain, which it has lost in cheating its creditors.

* * * * *

PATRIOTISM OF THE FIRST WATER.

MR. FRANCIS MAGUIRE talks of "patriots of the purest water." Pity is it that such water so seldom comes out of the Liffey.

* * * * *

_Companion._ "LAW!"]

* * * * *

OUR TOURIST IN PARIS.--No. 7.

It would be a mistake for a person of taste to leave Paris without dining at PHILIPPE'S, the great artist, who dwells in the Rue Montorgueil. There is the very highest authority (an Ex-Chancellor, a Bishop or two, and my friend JOLLYBOY) for stating that this house is by far the best in the city; and so, Sir, having the interests of your paper and my country in view, I accepted the invitation of HARRY ORTOLAN, himself no bad judge, to meet a small party there. There were old MARTINGALE and SHEFFIELD HIGSON, and DE COURCY of the Embassy, a young Frenchman named MONSIEUR FREDERIC HULOT, protocol, DE FAULTER, and your Correspondent.

HULOT (a great ass) who dresses _a l'Anglais_ in a _pantalon a la gentlemens-rideres_, and rides a grey mare with very long legs in the Champs Elysees, fastened on to MARTINGALE, and gabbled away about _le Liverpool Stipple Chase_ and MONSIEUR MASON, wanting to know how much an English horse, pure blood, would cost. He was to be showy and very quiet. MARTINGALE rather bluntly told him, he had better learn to ride, before he thought of buying a horse. DE FAULTER invited your Correspondent to come and play _ecarte_ at the Cercle some evening. A very friendly nice fellow. He was in some cavalry regiment, but sold out. I forget why he left the Rag. Perhaps it was too noisy a club for him. SHEFFIELD HIGSON was holding forth, to the great disgust of DE COURCY, about the English constitution, maintaining the universal corruption of the Church and aristocracy, and looking forward to the time when MR. COBDEN should be at the head of Foreign Affairs, and MR. BRIGHT at the War Office; the revenues of the Church of England being divided _pro rata_ among the schools of various denominations. To confess the truth, HIGSON spoils the effect of his excellent political principles by the grossest toad-eating. He never can speak without mentioning some lord as his intimate friend. DE COURCY listened to his speculations in horror, and was quite unable to profess his own simple faith--that the House of Peers and the country gentlemen had an exclusive right to the government, and that the devil was the first Whig. He could only turn away, and mutter something about "an infernal snob." PROTOCOL was boring our host with his views on the Zollverein. Altogether we were uncomfortable together, and were all delighted when dinner was announced.

The _huitres de Marenne_, those genuine treasures of the deep, had disappeared when ORTOLAN, filling a glass of old Grave, said, "Do you know I hate a fellow who says he doesn't like a good dinner. It's generally humbug, and when it isn't that, it's something worse. It shows a want of humanity: he might just as well not like virtue, or be indifferent about cleanliness. A good dinner is better than a bad dinner, exactly as a good man is better than a bad man; and to be without a taste, is as much a defect as to be without a heart. An ancient philosopher" (ORTOLAN is literary, and has read ATHENAES) "has defined man as a cooking animal, with great justice. Advance in cookery accompanies advance in civilisation, and they doubtless will both reach perfection at the same time. The culinary art has a direct effect in refining mankind; in the beautiful words of the _Latin Grammar_, it is emollient to the manners; nor does it allow them to be rough." (HIGSON, who has no Latin, here sneered visibly.) "After this _potage bisque aux ecrevisses_, we feel our hearts expand in universal philanthropy. Who would grovel amid lower dirt when he can nourish his essence with stuff so ambrosial?"

"Well, for my part," said honest MARTINGALE, "I don't care about your French flummery--it's all to hide the taste of the meat. Give me a steak of good English beef, you know what you're eating then. Who knows what this patty has inside it?" "You old heathen," exclaimed the epicure with pity, "eat therefore without inquiry; you should never work your intellect at the same time with your digestion, or you will spoil the operation of both. Eat in silence, for it is good, and thank the happy age and country which puts such delicate things before its sons."

MARTINGALE grumbled about fellows worshipping a certain portion of their physical constitution, but devoted himself nevertheless to the suspicious _pate_ with great success. The enthusiasm of the less prejudiced part of the guests, amongst whom is of course to be reckoned your open-minded Correspondent, was quickened by some _foie gras_, and rose to the highest pitch over a _salmi_ of woodcocks, which even Martingale admitted to be no end of good, although the best woodcocks in the world were to be shot on the governor's manors in Lincolnshire. Protocol here drank the health of the _chef_ in a glass of CLIQUOT'S champagne amid general applause.

Your Correspondent is aware of the painful effect that would be produced on your readers, condemned to drag on a miserable existence on the indigestible products of an English kitchen, if he were to enumerate and describe the dishes that completed the repast--all light, savoury, succulent, and nourishing. But why, he begs to ask, is it, that with confessedly inferior materials a French artist can make up a dinner, and a good one, where an Anglo Saxon cook only furnishes instruments of stomachic torture? The fact is certain and the answer plain. A Frenchman considers his occupation as an art and throws his soul into it. Success is his ambition and, when achieved, his pride, and he pleases himself when he pleases you. Compare his enlightened enthusiasm with the view MARIAR or SOOSAN takes of her _metier_. Think of the impenetrable stupidity, the indolent unconscientiousness, the complacent conceit, and the obstinacy which hardens the hearts towards us of that matron and that maid, and by their hands infuses death into the pot. O MARIAR! O SOOSAN! be wise in time, learn your business, and be not slothful therein; listen to a voice of warning from a foreign strand, lest the day arrive when Missus is compelled to descend into the kitchen as Missuses used to do in times gone by, and your empire over your employers be broken up once and for ever.

The generous produce of a Burgundian autumn flamed in our glasses, loosening the tongue and not blunting the wit. The effect was varied and delightful. Old MARTINGALE, who had been very hard on the Lancers of the Guard, admitted that in a campaign the French cavalry might be awkward customers. DE FAULTER ceased his allusions to the card-playing at the Cercle, and his coups at NORRIS'S. ORTOLAN showed that he could talk on other subjects than gastronomy, and DE COURCY was civil to SHEFFIELD HIGSON, who, on the other hand, abstained from enumerating his acquaintances among that aristocracy with whose utter worthlessness and degradation he was so much impressed. Your Correspondent, who is always pleasant and equable, was, if possible, more so than usual, and in the intervals of his brilliant sallies, added by acute observation to those stores of limpid wisdom, whence he periodically dispenses to your readers.

* * * * *

SOMETHING IN A NAME AFTER ALL.

We see by the French papers, that an umbrella called _The Mushroom_ has been lately patented in Paris. We are not aware what new peculiarity of construction its inventor has discovered, but we think the name he has selected is a highly appropriate one, and might with exceeding fitness be applied, not to his alone, but to umbrellas generally. For as mushrooms naturally belong to that class of things which are "here to-day and gone to-morrow," we think their name may very properly be used to designate so fugitive a possession as an umbrella.

* * * * *

CRANKS AND CROTCHETS.--The introduction of crank labour into gaols has tended to corroborate the opinion, which is widely prevalent, that prison disciplinarians are apt to be what is vulgarly called "cranky."

* * * * *

GRAND DRAMATIC APRES DEJEUNER.

Since the practice of giving entertainments to those who entertain the public has been adopted by those who got up the recent _dejeuner_ to MR. G. V. BROOKE, it was determined by the friends of MR. STENTOR--the great interpreter of FITZBALL--to invite that gentleman to a grand Spanish onion feast, which came off at the Cinder Cellars and Dust-hole of harmony, near the New Cut, Lambeth.

The room was hung with some of the best specimens from the theatrical gallery of MARKS, and a magnificent portrait of HICKS, as _Ivanhoe_, picked out with tinfoil, and filled in with real red satin, occupied the centre of the wall over the seat of the Chairman. This masterly work of art was appropriately supported on its right by the well-known engraving of MR. G. ALMAR, as the _Knight of the Cross_; and on its left by the highly finished etching of MR. CROWTHER, as the _Fiend of the Sepulchre_. A group of Pantomime characters faced the door; and an equestrian piece representing "MISS WOOLFORD in her favourite act of _The Reaper_," formed a pendant over the chimney-piece.

The supper was of the choicest kind, and embraced all the delicacies of the season that could be procured at the figure per head, which was fixed at the moderate tariff of ninepence, in order to embrace as many lovers of art--and onions--as possible. The _piece de resistance_ was a bit of the roast beef of old England, to which Ireland contributed her national potato, while Scotland sent her broth, and Wales was represented by a magnificent Welch rabbit. Nor was the Continent behind-hand in doing honour to the feast, for in peaceful proximity to the onion of Spain, stood the roll of France, the sausage of Germany, a flask of Lucca's luscious oil, and a few of the world-renowned sprouts of Brussels. After the cloth--and the crumbs--had been removed, the Chairman proposed the health of MR. STENTOR, who had made the voice of the drama heard in the midst of the hoots of a threepenny gallery, and who had fought more combats, assisted more defenceless females, unmasked more villains, and danced more hornpipes than any man in Europe.

When the applause had subsided, MR. STENTOR rose and modestly alluded to his own proud position. He expressed the highest reverence for his art, and declared that he felt almost awe-stricken when he trod the same boards that had been indented by the honoured heels of HICKS, and looked upon the same sky-borders that had been shaken by the screams of CARTLITCH. He, MR. STENTOR, had had the honour of acting in the same company with those great men, and he must say that he felt his bosom swell when he remembered that the great CROWTHER had hung upon it when, as the tortured _Khan_, he lamented his "lost child;" and when he, MR. STENTOR, remembered that that "child" was no other than the illustrious HICKS, he, MR. STENTOR, felt that he had indeed, in the words of the immortal AMHERST (J. H.), been "in goodly company." He, MR. STENTOR, would not hope to equal these great men, nor would he ask that the mantle of any of them should fall upon him; but if either of them should have an old coat to spare, he did humbly ask that he might be allowed to aspire to wear it.

MR. STENTOR'S speech was received with the most enthusiastic clatter of pint pots, which lasted for several minutes.

The Chairman then pronounced a most impressive eulogium on WIDDICOMB, which was received in solemn silence.

This was responded to by a SHAKSPERIAN jester and clown to the ring, the friend and adviser of WIDDICOMB, who, among other advice, advised him to sit still and say nothing.

The Chairman, in the course of the evening, observed that "the drama could never be in a decline while it had the support of such lungs as those of his friend STENTOR."

After the health of MR. BIDDLES, of the Bower Saloon, who acknowledged the compliment with a neat nod, the party broke up at a late hour.

* * * * *

FURTHER PARTICULARS.

"A Medical Breakfast has come to be almost a part of the regular
proceedings of the British Association--and the last meeting at Hull
offered no exception."--_Athenaeum._

We understand that the bill of fare included Senna Tea, Cream of Tartar, Sugar of Lead, Butter of Antimony, Saffron Cake, Rhubarb Tart, and Antimony Wine. Spatulae were laid for forty.--_Punch._

* * * * *

PROSPECTS OF A HAPPY PATH OF EMPERORS.

A Duet.

NICHOLAS--FRANCIS.

_Both._ {Europe's little Farm we'll keep
{And our little girls and boys,
{Like little pigs or sheep,
{Serve, dare they make a noise!

_Nich._ The trials I'll conduct;

_Fran._ The gaols I'll construct.

_Nich._ {In curbing bard and sage
{My lash will prove efficient;

_Fran._ {My halter, I'll engage,
{Will quell the ill-conditioned.

_Nich._ Now, slave, for back the knout!

_Fran._ Now, dog, the rope for neck;

_Both._ {And that's the way, no doubt,
{To keep mankind in check.

_Nich._ K with an N, N with an O, O with a U, U with a T;

_Fran._ And a R and an O and a P and an E;

_Nich._ K. N. O. U. T.;

_Fran._ R. O. P. and E.;

_Both._ {When we've trampled down the Free,
{Oh what jolly, glorious fun 'twill be!

[_Da Capo as lib._

* * * * *

THE LORD MAYOR'S SHOW FOR 1853!

We perfectly agree with MR. ALDERMAN SIDNEY--the Lord Mayor elect--that the great civic show of the Ninth of November is a vital element in our social and commercial life. WHITTINGTON'S cat still purrs encouragingly down generations. WALWORTH'S dagger is a bright and keen realty; and not the air-drawn blade that the utility-mongers would make of it. The influence of the Lord Mayor's Show is no doubt felt in the remotest parts of this island. The rumbling of the wheels of the state coach is heard in the dreams of youthful sleepers a-bed, it may be, in garrets at the Land's End. ALDERMAN SIDNEY feels all the poetry of this; therefore the City of London is safe in his enthusiastic keeping.

But MR. ALDERMAN SIDNEY--if we may believe a very general report--proposes to endow the Show with a purpose of instruction. He will inform outward bravery with an inward teaching. Thus, as a prosperous tea-merchant, the new Lord Mayor will have a new state coach built and ornamented as a magnificent tea-chest upon wheels; and will further have his coachman and footmen drest after the approved fashion of TIEN-TE, in remote but no less sincere compliment to Young China, _vice_ Old China chipped, cracked, and falling to pieces.

* * * * *

WHO IS THE MISCREANT THAT SENT US THE FOLLOWING?

As we know that the Russians require oleaginous food, is it not possible that, after devouring Turkey, the Czar may take a fancy to "Greece?" Should he do so, is it not probable that "GENUINE RUSSIAN BEAR'S GREECE" will no longer be a fiction?

* * * * *

RUSSIA IN LONDON.

It is said that the agitation for the constitution of a Greek empire is the politic work of Russia. That if others supply the eloquence, the Greek fire of talk--it is Russia that stands the shot.

* * * * *

_First Newmarket Boy._ "AWFUL WORK THIS, BILL. WE'RE A GOIN' TO WAR WITH ROOSIA!"

_Second Ditto._ "WELL, WOT ODDS?"

_First Ditto._ "WOT ODDS? WHY, THERE WON'T BE NO HEMPEROR'S CUP NEXT YEAR, THAT'S ALL!"]

* * * * *

THE TRUMPET OF BATTLE.

WHEN the trumpet's call to arms shall in Turkey's quarrel sound,
On the field of Europe's war shall JOHN BULL be backward found?
No, by GEORGE! to the fray like a war-steed let him bound,
Prepared to fall or conquer, with expensive laurels crowned.

Our heroes like water their blood abroad shall pour;
Our money shall also be scattered as of yore:
We have done it oftentimes, and we'll do it yet once more,
Even though we get worse off than we ever got before.

Should the nations draw the sword, it will be a grand affair,
With "Now or Never Liberty!" for a cry to rend the air:
Sore loss, whichever way it goes, ourselves will have to bear,
But that we've made our minds up to, and therefore need not care.

'Tis hard in others' quarrels to be forced to interpose,
But point me out the craven base that hesitation shows,
And I'll punch his wretched head and wring his despicable nose,
Forward! no matter how we swell the debt the nation owes.

Let the sword leap from the scabbard while the frantic bugles bray,
Draw, England, draw the purse as well that must be flung away,
Charge! and in charging never think how much you'll have to pay;
To the Brave there will be time to talk of that another day!

* * * * *

THE DREAM OF A BAGPIPE.

The EARL OF ABERDEEN, at the late Privy Council, looked very much pressed and flattened. It is said that, for some weeks past, the noble Earl has suffered a nightly dream, in which he believes himself turned to a bagpipe, with the EMPEROR OF RUSSIA, horned and tailed, playing upon him.

* * * * *

QUESTIONABLE ADVERTISEMENTS.

The present mode of advertising seems to be by asking a question and, from the general use of the process, we presume that the questioning is found to answer. Somebody asks us every day, "Who would be without a dressing case?" and another attempts to tickle our vanity by addressing to us the inquiry, "Do you keep livery servants?" and suggesting to us the _eclat_ of an imaginary retinue. Another wants to know, "Why pay more than sixteen shillings for your trowsers?"--a question we hardly like to dwell upon, for it presents to our mind the still more interesting question, "Why pay anything at all, and why not victimise your tailor?"

Talking of advertisements reminds us of one which daily offers to dye our hair, including the whole head for a crown, and our whiskers for "a shilling upwards." It would be important to know how far "upwards" we could have our whiskers dyed for that moderate sum, as it would be awkward to have them a rich Prussian blue about the jaw, a piebald in the middle, and a good old natural grey on the cheek-bone. The same accommodating person, who promises to dye us permanently for five shillings, offers, if we don't like the look of ourselves when we've been regularly done, to give us our money back again. This would be but a sorry compensation for one who had exchanged the simplicity of nature for the variegated hues of art, and who, in the hope of becoming once more the youthful beau, had qualified himself for the part of the rainbow. Before, standing the "hazard of the dye," we, like RICHARD THE THIRD, had rather see "HASTINGS'S head," or anybody else's head, a month after the operation.

* * * * *

PRESENT TO MR. GLADSTONE.

A few days ago MR. GLADSTONE received, carefully packed in an oaken box, and nicely enveloped in many folds of tissue paper, a massive handsome silver poker. It bore on the squared end this inscription:--"Presented to stir the Minister to stir himself to enable the country to stir a cheaper coal."

* * * * *

"I will Fight! He Hit me First!"]

* * * * *

THE INN-FLUENZA.

We have had our attention called to a complaint which, it seems, has long been prevalent throughout the kingdom, although but little notice hitherto has publicly been taken of it. It threatens now, however, to become as prolific a source of correspondence as the Cholera; and scarcely a _Times_ passes, without at least a column of "Constant Readers" on the subject.

We are not aware if a specific name has as yet been found for it; but we think it may be best described, perhaps, as a sort of Inn-fluenza, although it certainly in some degree resembles also a remittent fever, seeing that the sufferers cannot generally make progress without a remittance. And it partakes still further of a febrile character, since it usually is attended with irritation in the patient.

Of the symptoms which lead to it, perhaps the most painful is a species of opthalmia, which commonly afflicts the patient with the most distressing ocular delusions. He has been even known, under its influence, to declare that he can see only a pint of wine in a decanter, which his attendants have assured him contains a bottle; and candles, which he similarly has been told are wax, he has frequently been found unable to distinguish from composite. The sense of taste, too, it seems, is similarly affected. When offered pale ale, the patient not unfrequently will pronounce it to be swipes; and in some cases he has actually mistaken that for Cape, which is warranted, and even charged for, as Madeira.

We trust that the urgency of this complaint being now admitted, efficient means will be at once devised to stop it. There is little doubt, we think, that the sufferers hitherto have been bled too freely, and another course of treatment should be certainly adopted. We do not generally advocate the use of the knife, but in this complaint decidedly, wherever any person is attacked by the symptoms which may lead to it, we do not know if we can well prescribe a surer remedy than cutting.

* * * * *

RANDOM RECORDS OF A RUN THROUGH CERTAIN CONTINENTAL COUNTRIES.

(_By the Author of "All the Great Metropolises"._)

[We rather think the following letter has reached us by mistake, and
must have been intended for one of our morning contemporaries.
However, we print it.--ED.]