COY CLIENTS. In the new Commercial Court. A thin sprinkling of Juniors, one or two Q. C's, Ushers, and the usual contingent of people from the street who are glad of shelter and a seat, and who do not even pretend to take any interest in the proceedings. The Judge. Odd, that the mercantile community does not even now seem attracted to this Court. You are sure, Mr. REDBAGGE, that the inducements which we offer to litigants are widely known? Mr. Redbagge, Q. C. The officer of the Court tells me, m'lud, that he has sent round circulars to every mercantile establishment in the City. The Judge. Our scale of commissions is surely generous enough! By the new Rules of Court which I have made, a bonus of £500 is offered to any merchant who swears, on affidavit. that he was about to resort to arbitration but decided to come here instead. Then I think the plan of giving his head clerk one year's rent of his dwelling and a free fortnight at Yarmouth for himself and his family, as a reward for influencing his prin cipal to resort to us, was rather adroit-eh, Mr. REDBAGGE? Mr. Redbagge, Q. C. Excellent! And the boxes of chocolate to his door-keeper, and free tickets to the music-balls for other subordinate members of his establishment, ought to have brought a plethora of business to this court. The Judge. Quite so. Not to mention the fact that we pay counsel's and solicitor's fees out of public funds, instead of looking to the litigants themselves to provide them. If that isn't cheap justice, I should be glad to know what is. Mr. Redbagge (deferentially). And the mercantile classes must surely be aware that no Judge on the Bench has a greater knowledge of the law than your ludship. The Judge (ignoring the flattery). Unfortunately the mercantile classes seem also to have a knowledge of the law, and not to like what they know of it. So they resort to the ruinous-I repeat, the thoroughly ruinouspractice of arbitration. Mr. Redbagge. It is really a serious state of things, m'lud-for us, not for your ludship. "Those who live to plead, must plead to live" -and it's a little difficult to plead when(breaking down)-there are no clients. LINES IN PLEASANT PLACES. WHEN the sun was shining brightly, It was joy supreme, though fleeting, Happy he whom smile the Fates on, And, as off we'd skim cross-handed, How we gave evasive answers, All my heart, as I would hold her But, each time, what put a stopper Then the thaw came. Oh, the bother! 06 MRS. R. wants to know where that old quotation comes from, so applicable now ROBERT ON COUNTY COUNSELLERS. ME and BROWN, and sum two or three of our most intimet frends, has had a most liberal offer made to us, rite in the werry art of Sent Pancras, to go out a canwassing for the County Counsellers when the elections begins shortly. I need scarcely say as they havent made much effect upon me, as I knows em too well from what I hear about em at our own Gildall and the Manshun House, but the terrems is suttenly werry liberal, both in refreshments and in promisses, but they all depends upon their suckcess, and from what I hears that aint likely to be werry great. Of course in the grand old Citty that wont be not nothink, but ewen in Sent Pancras I hears as it wont be anythink werry grate. I've bin up to their own Gildall at Charing Cross again, but they does make sitch dredful long speeches that they quite tires me out, and they are all about such dredful tiresome subjecs that I soon gits weary on em. I was told down at Gildall that one of our most poplar aldermen had quite made up his mind to try and turn out the Prime Minister, Lord ROSEBERRY, I think his name is, from representing a County Council, but there must have been sum mistake sum where, for Prime Ministers aint exactly the sort of gents as is ginerally selected to represent her most gracious Majesty the QUEEN, as I spose as the PRIME MINISTER does, and to be a County Counseller as well. No, no, them sort of things dont exacly go together. Our Gildall peeple dont seem werry much alarmed about the fuss has has been made about their Unyfecation, as I think they calls it, which is supposed to mean that they are all to be turned out of Gildall, and all London to be created into one great body of Common Counselmen! And what is to become of all our numerous Aldermen and Deppertys, and settera, not none of us knows a bit! But of course that's all nothink but mere nonsence, that helps to keep our reel gentlemen in good humer. They dont seem in werry bad sperrits, for sum of the most importentest of em all had a grand meeting on Tuesday last, and laid the werry fust stone of a butiful new Manshun, werry close to Gildall, which I am told is to cost about thirty-five thowsand pounds. and will take a hole year to bild, so that didn't look as if they were quite fritened out of their wits; and just to show the principle gents among em there wasn't not nothink to fear, the nobel Gent as took the chair inwited amost a hundred of em to dine with him in the most scrumpsheous way possible, and drunk their helths all round! There was only just about harf a dozen of County Counsellers present, and they was just about as quiet as they ginerally is when reel gents is with em. as BROWN tells me as how as he hears that the Prince of WALES is most strongly oposed to the Old Citty being interfered with, and that amost all the great House of Lords agrees with him, so there aint much fear of much being done, after all. ROBERT. The Judge (soothingly). We must think of some other plan of attracting them, I suppose. How would it be if, instead of troubling them to come here, the Court offered to go to their offices and sit there? Or perhaps a few baronetcies scattered about among them might have the desired effect. Well (rising) as there are no cases on our list, and no AN APPROPRIATE QUOTATION TO BE PLACED prospect of any, the Court is forced to Of course Freedom went into the free seats ON THE URN OF THE ASHES OF ONE CREadjourn! [Does so. (if any) and shrieked with delight. "And Freedom shrieked when PADEREWSKI played!" MATED.-"Well done!" AT THE OLD MASTERS. THE following selections may assist the Art-student visiting Burlington House: No. 3. By GEORGE ROMNEY. Not so much a "Rum Knee" as a queer left arm. Gout apparently, skilfully depicted. No. 5. By Sir HENRY RAEBURN, R.A. Lorenzo and Jessica, at 50 and 40 respectively. No. 9. By Sir JOSHUA REYNOLDS, P.R.A. Selected from Reynolds' Miscellany. Portrait of a gentleman in full uniform, out for a walk, on a stormy day, on the sea-shore. He is evidently saying, "Here's a nice predicament! I've powder on my hair, no hat, and it's coming on to pour cats and dogs." No. 13. By Sir JOSHUA REYNOLDS. A Portrait of The Marquis of Granby. Presented, of course, by Mr. WELLER, Senior. Probably the original sign of the inn of which Mr. W. was proprietor. No. 16. By GEORGE ROMNEY. Portrait of Mrs. Farrer. Charming. Might go Farrer and fare worse. No. 24. By GEORGE! ROMNEY. Portrait of Lady Hamilton. "Unfinished" but perfect. 66 No. 38. A Constable"-who arrests our attention. This, you may depend upon it, is a Constable with a warrant. No. 50. By REMBRANDT. Man DE GUSTIBUS. Little Binks. "I ONLY CARE TO TALK TO WOMEN WHO LET ME MAKE Lord Randolph Churchill. BORN, FEBRUARY 13, 1849. GONE!-like a meteor whelmed in night, So few and so infrequent are. The common soul with wonder thrills. Seemed herald of that steadier course, Which, drawing less the general stare, Spoke to the wise of light and force. Now all's extinct in early gloom, Eclipsed in shadow premature. A brilliant soul, a bitter doom! The brightness of that brief career The promise of the platform's pride Inspired a Party's youthful dreams, A FEELING PROTEST. But there is yet another reason why the And filled to flood their hope's high tide. He took a house in Hampshire. Why? cause he said he liked to visit his old Hants. does it matter to the accomplished traveller No. 94. By Sir THOMAS LAURENCE, P.R.A. 'The bells are a ringing for Sarah." Curtain rises and SARAH steps forward to sing. 66 No. 122. By JACOB JORDAENS. Splendid. Try our stout, JANE!" No. 126. By J. M. W. TURNER, R.A. Snowstorm." ." Wonderful!! But where was the artist when he took it ? Do not leave without closely examining No. 181, by FRANÇOIS CLOUET, "Portrait of a Princess." And do not neglect the gems of the collection" in the Water-colour Room. This is full of "interesting and been fully reported in all the remarkable cases" which have papers. The exhibition is open till March 16. Don't miss it. who "does know where he are" and where he will be, and has pre-ordered everything wisely and well ?), and so get up to Paris in time for a little late supper and an early bed? For those who value their digestions, and who love good food and drink, even when they have but a short time for refreshment, there is but one route to Paris from London, and that is via Calais, i.e. via the buffet. Only, cher messieurs les directeurs de la ligne du Nord, cannot you possibly manage to extend our luncheon-time at Calais to just three quarters of an hour, instead of giving us only a beggarly twenty-five minutes at best, and do the thing well while you are about it? As to the Boulogne route, well, one goes to Boulogne to stay, and so the buffet, en passant, is of small importance. May this reach the eyes and touch the hearts of all in authority, for it is a cri du cœur from AN INCONSTANT TRAVELLER. TO ATALANTA. That wondrous vision daunted, You instantly the race forbore, And gathered up the burden! You won a dearer guerdon ! ANIMAL SPIRITS. hugely it is GEORGE AUGUSTUS's righteous denunciation of "the A GOD IN THE OS-CAR. ["Amongst the candidates for the Regius Professorship of History at Cambridge is Mr. OSCAR BROWNING."-Daily Paper.] THE History Professorship Who 'll from the PREMIER get the post? But should Lord R. o'erlook his In Oh! will O. B. be wildly riled, claim, fact, will OSCAR BROWNING then Develop into OSCAR WILDE? OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. DELIGHTFUL reminiscences are these of GEORGE AUGUSTUS SALA'S, told in his own peculiar rattling-off, running-on, one-anecdotedown-t'other-come-on style. Of all people he has met" he has plenty to say, but nil nisi bonum; all writ with a magnum-b num pen. Once he was a "Gipsy King, ha! ha!" but, long ago, as he tells us, he renounced all claims to the throne of Bohemia, abdicated, retired, and, no more a Rad, has led a Reformed Club life. Who wrote the burlesque Eugene Aram verses, ending with,And GEORGE AUGUSTUS walked before, With gyves upon his wrist "? All the notabilities of his earlier days were mentioned in that poem, at least so I believe, for does it not belong to a date when the Baron had not come within measurable distance of his title when he watched the great guns from afar with awe: when he saw them in the Cyder Cellars and at Evans's, both of which night resorts he, having been first taken there by a kindly but injudicious man-about-town, subsequently patronised on such holidays as were offered to him by the jovial nights after the Eton and Harrow matches at Lord's, and on the eve of such a festival as the University Boat five-and-sixpence. But as I see that the Works Committee only Race. The Baron in those happy days and nights was attired in the costume in which RICHARD DOYLE has dressed young Clive Newcome when he accompanied his father, the Colonel, on that ever memorable evening to The Cave of Harmony, and heard the song that made him so wrathful. There are no Cyder Cellars, Coal Holes, and Evans's nowadays, which owlish resorts were strictly restricted to the use of the male sex, young and old. But even if a kind, considerate legislature does insist on extinguishing the lights, and turning us out in the streets at 12.30 precisely, are morality and health so very much benefited by the process? Isn't it cheerful to read of the pleasantly convivial late hours in the Georgian Augustan Era? The celebrities at home and abroad that he knew were legion, and I'll be bound (as the Book said) that he hasn't emptied his memory stores by many a cupboard full. There is one sentiment which appeals to the Baron's head, heart, and pocket, and delighteth him In the Baron's Good Books. QUEER QUERIES.-COSTLY COLOURS.-Could some reader inform me whether it would be of any use to request the Works Committee of the London County Council to paint my back door for me? It has become a little discoloured through age, and a local carpenter has offered to put on "two coats of good sage-green enamel paint" for spent £2,186 over the painting of Hammersmith Bridge, I fancy that it would be cheaper to employ them, if I could. It is pleasant to think what exceptionally fair wages they must have paid over this job (using the word in its natural meaning), and how much time the poor men engaged in it must have been able to give to their family circles. This is as it should be.-TRUE PROGRESSIVE. NIAGARA HALL.-They say the sham ice here is almost perfect, very nearly as good as the real ice, in fact so little is the difference between the real and sham that a skater, unless he had tried it, would hardly real-ice it! The band plays, "Hwfa (Williams) of thee I'm fondly dreaming!" as the patineurs and patineuses who have paid their three or five shillings glide about at the rate of either eighteenpence or two-and-sixpence a foot. UNANSWERABLE.-The Archbishop of CANTERBURY, speaking at Folkestone last week, said that "The Disestablishment Bill does not need any answering: it answers itself." An' it please your Grace, if it does "answer," and answers its purpose, what more can be required of this Bill or any other? THE NEW WEATHER PROVERB. BRAVE GIRL -It never rains-but it snows! Millicent (from the country). "Now, MABEL! LET'S MAKE A DASH !!" OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. By the publication of The Play Actress (S. R. CROCKETT) Mr. FISHER UNWIN fully maintains the success attained by his Autonym Library. My Baronite is least attracted by the scenes which possibly pleased the anthor most-those in which he describes life in the purlieus of London theatres. Mr. CROCKETT is much more at home in Galloway, and with the people who sparsely populate it. The opening chapter, describing Sabbath day in the Kirk of the Hill is in his best style, as are others describing the Great Preacher's tender caring for his little grand-daughter. The Play Actress is just the sort of thing to buy at a book stall on starting for a journey. It will be felt to be a matter of regret if the journey isn't quite long enough to finish it at a sitting. In The Worst Woman in London ("and other stories," a subtitle craftily suppressed on the outside of the book by F. C. PHILIPS) the author gives us a number of capital detached stories of a most irritating abruptness. Almost every one of these stories is a novel thrown away; that is, every story is in itself the germ of what might have been a good novel. They are little more than "jottings for plottings." Yet, to be read with a pipe or small cigar, they just suffice to wile away time and obviate conversation. They are dedicated to Mr. WALTER HERRIES POLLOCK, who has on more than one occasion shown himself an adept at real good short stories-not merely as plots, but genuinely VOL. CVIII. QUEER QUERIES. FREEZING THE VERTEBRA.I am in the last stage of bronchitis, complicated with pneumonia, influenza, and asthma, and a friend has advised me to try the new French cure of applying ice to the spine. Will some obliging physician tell me whether he considers such a course safe? None but a recognised specialist need trouble to reply; and if he does so, I shall have the satisfaction of feeling that I have saved his fee, as well as my own life. My boy advises me to go skating, and "I shall be sure then to have my back applied to the ice," which he says is the same thing as applying ice to my back. But is it? A nephew who is staying in the house also kindly offers to "shy hard snow-balls at my spine," if that would help me in any way. It is a pitv that the newspaper (from which I derived this medical hint) was not clear as to details; for instance, when I have applied the ice, what is to prevent its melting and trickling all over me?-NON-PAYING PATIENT. Spread liberal dirt on the feminine skirt Is a sight for the gods, indeed! Both. Oh, isn't it glee to do it, and see Strephon. I frightened those horses, I'm much afraid,The excellent coachman's riled! Phyllis. And I've demolished a nursery-maid, I made that stately dowager jump, That leisurely cur, I'm inclined to infer, So side by side we merrily ride, And scatter the murmuring throng, Who think the police should compel us to JUST A LITTLE TOO MUCH.-When a parliamentary candidate or popular Member is received with a torchlight procession, it is almost unnecessary for his constituents to present him, on a dark night, with " an illuminated address." |