"SHE-THAT-OUGHT-NOT-TO-BE-PLAYED!"

A Story of Gloomy Gaiety.

PART I. Led by the Nose.

I HAVE agreed to write down my terrible experiences. A will stronger than my own desires it. I can but obey. If I could, would refuse. For I had hoped to have done for ever with the novelist who revels in gore. Moreover, I have quite forgotten the incidents of the particular book that has been "dramatised by permission," and then" re-written and adapted" by an author, a stage

arms were tattooed after a decidedly modern fashion. Then came a gorgeously apparelled dame, who, from her proneness to spout without danger of interruption (in a tone that might mean a fortune to a curate reading the funeral service) what seemed to me to be lengthy leading articles on more or less interesting subjects, and from her fondness for, and power of keeping well in the limelight, II recognised as "the One who must be obeyed.' And the lady in the limelight stabbed the ancient Greek with the modernly tattooed arms, and the Curtain fell for the first time. It would have been better for my peace of mind if the Curtain (so far as that evening was concerned) had fallen for ever! But no; I had to suffer for hours longer! Suffering to be heard through the years-heard through the years! PART III.-Seen by the Eyes.

I was in HOLLY's Rooms at Cambridge. HOLLY, I found, wearing a maroon-hued velvet coat, and puce-coloured black-striped trousers! And then came the infliction of inflictions! JOB, the would-be comic servant! Oh, how hard it was to bear! How hard! Even now, I shiver and turn cold when I think of him! They were joined, these strange ones, by the ancient and portly Greek with the modernly tattooed arms. This last was now dressed in a rather horsey costume of the nineteenth century; and then a strange thing happened. Without contradiction he declared, in spite of his portliness and other appearances distinctly arguing to the contrary that he was only fiveand-twenty! Then this trio examined a box, and in the boredom that followed, a feeble glimmer of recollection of having read something somewhere like it before floated through my weary mind. Then the trio got on a Dhow of peculiar construction, and there was a mutiny and the stage became very dark. Then a strange thing happened. The crew, seemingly with considerable exertion, pulled the ship to pieces, and then drew a carpet over the remains. And the carpet was violently agitated, and the trio reappeared in a boat, and in the distance was the painting of the head of a comic negro! And a sense of deep relief filled my soul as the Curtain descended and allowed me to see no more! Oh, the weariness of that which had been seen by the eyes--seen by the eyes!

PART IV.-Caught on the Cheek.

Then came several hours in the land of Kor. I have a recollection of a lady wearing white muslin and a serpent, who wandered about always, always, in the limelight. I fancy she must have spoken for a very long while. And the ancient and portly Greek in the horsey clothes and tattooed arms, he, too, seems to have had a great deal to say. And I recall to mind an old man who got a laugh by calling the person in the puce-coloured and black-striped trousers a baboon." And I have a vision too of some mild dancing by a small and select corps de ballet. And then I have standing out distinctly in my mind the black shadow of the greatest bore of them all. JOB! JOB! JOB! Oh, the feeble "jokes," oh, the melancholy "wheezes!" And I know that there must have been several scenes, even if there were but little action. Stay, did I not see HOLLY dangling in mid air, supported by an iron wire attached to a hook? But my mind seems to have partly slumbered until I came to "The Cavern of the Fire of Life." Ah, I remember it well. It was an unusual cavern, and now and again there was a whistle that somehow or other recalled "She-that-must-be-obeyed." to me the joint forms of the stage-manager and the prompter, and manager, and a lady with the sometimes frequently-reiterated name then followed a rumbling noise attended by a puff of steam, that of CLO. My memory is a blank, save that I have a feeling of gentle suggested to me a suburban laundry on a slack washing-day. And pain, as I indistinctly recall a prosy leader-spouting sorceress, who, at length the lady (who, I gathered, had lived for more than two to the best of my recollection, before dying turned into a monkey, thousand years in the limelight), divested herself of most of her and a man who was called HOLLY, to give opportunities for the per-white muslin and all of her serpent, and disappeared in the fumes of petration of mild puns upon his name, and a terrible bore, called JOB. the suburban laundry. And immediately there was some shouting, Ah, yes, I remember the last! A nightmare, a horrible nightmare! and a pleasantly-fat person in grey rags and a white wig staggered -feebly humorous, insipid beyond conception, stupid to the last in from the wings and fell on the stage, and was soon hidden from degree! And was I to see all this? Oh, horror! Led by the nose! view by the distinctly welcome Curtain. And there was applause. Then a young lady in a costume of masculine cut, walked across the stage, accompanied by an elderly gentleman. And more applause followed, and various members of the cast crossed the stage, inclusive of the lady of the limelight. And then a strange thing happened. The pale person in a pince-nez, in the apparently inconveniently crowded private-box, suddenly appeared in the front of the loge alone, and began to address us. He told us that he believed the piece we had just sat out with so much weary patience would "make, with a few alterations, an exceedingly fine play," and said something complimentary about the performance of the lady in the limelight. And this was the great comic effect of the evening! The speaker who thus praised the story I was told was the author of the story himself! Caught on the cheek! Caught on the cheek! Caught on "-the cheek!

PART II.-Heard through the Years.

Let me quickly get through my task. I was in the Temple of the Drama devoted to this fearsome work. I saw around me faces that I had seen before. In a large box, apparently inconveniently crowded, sat, or rather perambulated, a pale person in a pince-nez, who seemed to take the greatest possible interest in the proceedings, This pale person in the pince-nez fairly fascinated me, and, when I was weary of looking at the stage (and I confess I was often, very often weary), I fixed my gaze upon him. And then a wonderful thing happened. Whenever I glanced at him, whatever might have been the provocation-however dull and prosaic and profitless may have been the dialogue,-I never found him asleep!

But to my task,-a bitter one. I saw before me the interior of a Palace, that somehow recalled to me Nitocris at Drury Lane. There was one striking article of furniture, a modern reading-desk, that seemingly had become petrified into stone for the occasion. Then I noticed a man called the Keeper of the Queen's Records, and those Records I discovered were three Deeds, looking with their seals about two thousand years younger than they were represented to be. Then a portly person appeared, dressed as an ancient Greek, save that his

Doctrine v. Deed.

"LAISSEZ-FAIRE!" cries caustic BRAMWELL.
He can scourge a sumph or sham well;
But one law at least is there:

He can't yield to,-Laissez-faire!

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NOTICE.-Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will in no case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule

there will be no exception

B. & S.

(Extracts from a Diary of Travel.)

trippers. They come in thousands, every day from July through September. Oldham, Manchester, Wigan, Preston, Liverpool, Bolton, Blackburn, Stockport, pour in their tens of thousands from the over to S., and return, grievously ill all the way. Those that land at S., journey in the same way to B. Four hours they spend at either side, on sand or sea-wall. A pleasant sight to see. All dressed in their best. Mother and father, sons and daughters, and babies innumerable. As different from Margate as East from West. Quaint in speech, odd in man

ner, amazing in dress; all
honest pale-faced working men
and women, sniffing the fresh
air and gazing on the unaccus-
tomed scene with infinite gusto.
S. knows 'ARRY not, nor is B.
acquainted with 'ARRIET.

B. & S. are nothing to drink. So WILFRID LAWSON needn't "rise teeming mills. Those that land at B., presently take steamer, cross to order" any. B. is a rising town on one side of the Estuary of the Rubble. S. is a rising town on the other. B. looks down on S. S. loftily ignores B. Remember in days of earlier travel spending some time in town of St. Louis, U.S.A. Whiled away breakfast hour by reading what Kansas papers said of St. Louis, and what St. Louis journals said of Kansas. Month, September; flies abundant. Coloured gentleman told off with big fan to every couple in coffee room; fan always going in one hand, brushing off flies, whilst dishes served and removed with other. Newspaper controversy of the day turned on subject of flies. Kansas papers denounced St. Louis as fly-blown. When coloured gentleman temporarily removed flies from surface of St. Louis local journal, I read dignified deprecation of distinction thrust upon the city. We do not," wrote the editor, "deny an occasional fly in St. Louis; but there are times when the outlines of objects in the domestic economy of Kansas are literally obliterated by the pest. Recently, a citizen of St. Louis entered the principal hotel in Kansas, intending to take his breakfast. What have you got a black cloth on the table for?' he asked the boy. 'That's not a cloth,' said the boy, whisking his fan. That's flies.' And so it was."

B. & S. do not indulge in open recrimination like St. L. and K. But they think the more. The favours of the Estuary unequally divided. B. gets all the water; S. all the sand. B. has high tide twice a day; S. once a fortnight. S. says there's nothing like sand. "Water for me," says B. S. rigs up boats on wheels, and careers madly over the dunes. B. puts to sea in pleasure-boats, stepping right off its own sea-wall, and smiles with aggravating insolence at S.'s argosies. B. has a park facing the sea, enclosed within jealously guarded gates, accessible only to lordly residents. The sun arranges matters so that it sets full in sight of the park. Only Ireland between B. and the boundless Atlantic.

Late of Liverpool.

"Ireland in the way, as usual," said CLAUD
HAMILTON, who, when Member for Liverpool,
sometimes visited B.

But when it comes to the seasons, S. has the
pull over B. B.

has a summer sea-
son. So has S., and
a winter season into
the bargain.
B., people lodge.
In S. they dwell.
"Good Americans

At

when they die, go

to Paris.' In the manufacturing districts of Lancashire, good general dealers when they retire, go to S. It is the very paradise of the bourgeoisie. Always looks as if it had just had its hands and face washed.

WHITLEY, another cheap tripper from Liverpool, with hands behind his back and smile on his face, says it reminds him of

66

the rose just washed in a shower Which MARY to ANNA conveyed." (COWPER was the poet of WHITLEY'S childhood; clings to him still.)

B. is an agglomeration of lodging-houses; S. is a congeries of residences. In new part of the town, every house is detached; everyone has a peaked roof; everyone is built of red brick; everyone has a grass plot in front; everyone has a little garden behind; everyone is prim and clean, and passing rich on the savings of a well spent life.

Also of Liverpool.

S., though it rather looks down on the summer, since B. shares its

Like to see this, dear TOBY,"
said W. F. LAWRENCE, bowing
gracefully to cheap trippers,
who looked as if they might
possibly be electors of the Abercromby
division of Liverpool. "Quite a change
from Salisbury Plain, which I am more
accustomed to frequent."

At B. came unexpectedly upon ADDI-
SON, Q.C., of Ashton-under-Lyne. Adds
the last touch of genial attractiveness to
the place. Pretty to see him standing on
marge of Ocean, regarding its going and
coming with friendly glance. Just the
same here as in House of Commons.
ADDISON, Q.C., walks up floor, beaming
impartially on crowded benches right and
left. House smiles back on him, and,
before he reaches appointed place, and
"A Constituent, I presume!"
his portly person sinks into seat, murmur
of welcoming cheer goes round. So it is at B. ADDISON, Q.C.,
standing with hands in trousers' pockets, and feet far apart, strides
and smiles on the Irish Channel. Irish Channel returns friendly
gleam of recognition; ADDISON breaks into ripple of happy laughter;
and the sea roars back a delighted guffaw.

Why this should be I don't know, any more than why ADDISON, Q.C., and House of Commons should always be smiling at each other. But so it is. B. and S. still divided by Estuary of Rubble, are momentarily united in happy effervescence while ADDISON, Q.C., standing on the prim sea-wall, looks across the Rubble at the yellow sands.

TYPICAL TOPICAL STORIES FOR THE DEAD SEASON.

REMARKABLE INCIDENT IN PALL MALL.

THE United Service Club (called by the Members of the Junior United Service Club "The Senior") was closed for repairs. Taking pity upon their miserable position-cold and coffee-room-less-the Committee of the Athenæum had asked the Members of the Senior to become for the nonce honorary guests of the more literary Club. The invitation had been accepted with avidity, and the staid-looking mansion standing at the south-west corner of Waterloo Place was crowded with elderly warriors belonging both to the Army and the Navy. As everyone knows, the Athenæum prides itself upon its Bishops. The Primate is, so to speak, the spécialité de la maison. But it was September, and few, very few, of the ordinary Members of the Athenæum were in Town. On the other hand, the invited warriors were present in abundance.

It was in the Coffee Room. An exciting scene was being acted. A waiter had produced an imperfectly cooked chop. The Generals and the Admirals were very wrath, and the use of the capital "D" had become most fashionable. It was then that the Bishop of entered the Coffee Room, and, listlessly seating himself at a table, ordered a chop. He was composing a sermon, and was unconscious of the noise around him. At length the should-be succulent viand was placed before him. He thrust his fork into it, and found that it was imperfectly cooked. He was about to utter an exclamation of anger when the steward interposed.

Nay, my Lord. Curb your profane tongue. See those innocents. Not before the (Naval and Military) boys!"

And suppressing an oath the good Bishop gave his blessing to the warlike throng, who sank on their knees to receive it. And it was at this point I awakened from my slumbers, and found that what I had witnessed was only a dream!

APPROPRIATE CANTATA FOR THE NEXT attractions and its advantages, is not above entertaining the day-QUIRES."-The Jackdaw of Reams.

FESTIVAL OF THE THREE

[A Charter has just been granted to the Imperial British East Africa Company. This Company will now administer and develop a territory with an estimated area of about 50,000 square miles, including some of the most fertile and salubrious regions of Eastern Africa.] From all earth's nations, Frenchman, Por- Whose minds are mainly set upon that love: tuguese, The Briton, proud as Egis-bearing Jove, Who deems her indevirginate, her eyes Being black and burning, like her own fierce skies.

THE force, O Muse, and functions now unfold
Of Afric's Venus, graced with mines of gold;
Who e'en in BISMARCK lights love's furious
fire,

And makes all men woo her with hot desire.

[seas,
From Yankee shores and from all Europe's
Adventurous patriots crowd to seek and share
Love of the Libyan Venus. Three there are