THE DOOM OF WESTMINSTER BRIDGE.

A Bare Possibility.—The Russian Bear keeping the peace in Europe for long.

The Act has at length passed for the total destruction of Westminster Bridge, and another bridge is to succeed, which, if it is really to succeed, must be as unlike as possible to the existing bridge, which has been a complete failure. The career of this bridge has been downward from the first, and its continuance has been a phenomenon similar to that which is illustrated by the old saying that "a creaking door hangs long upon the hinges." Westminster Bridge has been, as long as we can remember, "going, going, going," and it has been a matter of constant wonder that it had never yet "gone." We have never on traversing it been able to look back upon it with the respect due to "the bridge that carries us safely over," for we have always felt that the safety was due rather to good fortune than to any merit the bridge itself had to rest upon.

We cannot help feeling delighted that an act of Parliament will at last put this unhappy old bridge out of its misery, instead of sanctioning the further infliction of the painful operations to which it has been subjected. The poor old bridge is no longer to be maimed and mutilated, but it is to be made away with once and for ever. It has already undergone the process of trepanning, by having something removed from its crown, and it has long ago been able to boast of nothing better than wooden legs, by the process of giving it timbers to stand upon, as well as wooden arms, by the substitution of wood-work for its old original balustrades. We are delighted that the old nuisance will not be suffered to die in its bed, or rather in the bed of the river, into which it daily threatened to tumble. Westminster Bridge has, indeed, had a fair trial, for it has been tried by its piers, and its condemnation has been the inevitable result, for its piers have been, perhaps, the chief cause of its downfall.

Miss Laura Tremaineto her Sister, the Wife ofAugustus Flopp, Esq., M.P.

"My Dearest Louisa,

"Certainly, of all the unkind, and churlish creatures that ever lived, the House of Commons contains the very worst specimens, and, my dear, they are all alike, so there is no use in your making a protest on behalf of your own Honourable Member. Not to take you to the Spithead Review, and then to plead, as an apology, that there were no ships for your accommodation! And this is the omnipotent Parliament, that has only to say that coals shall not smoke, and they instantly emit nothing but perfumed incense; that cabmen shall not cheat, and they at once become as polite as guardsmen (and a great deal politer); that candidates shall not bribe, and they immediately begin to pay the voters who have opposed them, just to prevent the poor men from being unlawfully rewarded by their own friends. And yet this wonderful Parliament pretends that it cannot find a ship or two to take its own wives to see the Queen review the fleet! The men must think you are perfect geese, my dearLoo, to offer you such rubbishing excuses. It is very well forAugustusthat he married you and not me, as he was once inclined to do (hewas, so you need not make a face), for you accept 'the House' as an excuse for everything, and are afraid to look at the newspaper in the morning to see what hour Parliament rose, for fear you should discover that hecouldnot have been waiting for a division at three. And you believe, too, that it is necessary for him to be full dressed for a debate, and that it produces just the same effect upon him as champagne does upon ordinary men. O,Louisa! But youlikeit, I believe.

Well, as I have not got anAugustusto tell me stories and leave me at home, I went withLady de Gulesand her sister to Portsmouth, and every kind of care was taken of us. We went from the hotel (where I hear they were demanding unheard-of prices from strangers, and charging them five guineas for leave to pass the night on a hob, with the run of the fender for a dressing-room), and some naval officers whomLady de Gulesordered up for our service—her brother, you know, is a Lord of Admiralty—escorted us through the dockyard, and had a boat waiting at the stairs to take us to a great steamship lying in the harbour. Now, I should like to know why the wives of Parliament could not have had this very ship. There was plenty of room, nothing could be nicer. We had an awning over us, and the Captain ordered one of the cannons to be taken in, so that we had the porthole for a window, and there we clustered,Lady de Guleshaving shawls and things put upon the cannon, and perching herself on the top. There were a few good people on board, but I rather think that at the last moment, when the Admiralty authorities found that they did not want the tickets, they flung them to the local folks, who came on board very fussy and angular—horrid men, all in black at ten in the morning, and women covered with jewellery, which one of the little middies said they bought cheap of the Jews in the High Street—itdidlook like it. However, they kept at a respectful distance, and sneered at one another. Some of the officers on board were very attentive, and if I wanted to marry a man in uniform, I would sooner have the sea-livery than the land. They are fresher, and much pleasanter to talk to than the hardened army men, and really think more of you than the other spoiled creatures do. It was quite delightful to see them fly about to make you comfortable, doing things the soldier-officers, as your dreadful child calls them, would faint at the idea of—except at Chobham, where I admit they behave very decently. I should think it was not impossible for a woman to get to like a sailor pretty well, if she saw nobody else.

About the sight itself, my dearLoui, you had better ask somebody who understood it—your husband, perhaps, for he was in theBulldog, which behaved dreadfully ill, breaking the line, or some fearful seawater crime. First, when theQueencame in her yellow yacht, the guns were fired, and then there was a long pause, while she visited theDuke of Wellington, a monster of a ship with, I think they said, eleven hundred and thirty-one guns, or tons, or something; but you must not take figures from me. Then we all went away in a sea-procession, which was very pretty, the great ships in long lines in the middle, hundreds of steamboats and thousands of yachts following in a miscellaneous crowd, the sun shining very brightly, and the sea as green as grass.Lady de Gules, like a goose, fancied herself sea-sick, which I believe she would do if a glass of salt-water were set upon her dressing-table; but we would not pity her, and she thought better of it. While we were at lunch—at which the officers behaved with great devotion, and a disinterestedness remarkably unlike something you and I have seen—it seems that the fleet was cannonading an enemy, but I looked out of window and could see nothing but smoke, so we stayed where we were.

sketch of smoke cloud.

I send you a sketch of it from memory.Entre nous, I was not quite unprofitably engaged. I do not know whether it will come to anything, but just askAugustus,from yourself, whether the Shropshire branch of theLartonburyfamily is the right one, and if he knowsHenry Lartonbury. Swanby House, or Hall, or something, is, I think, the family place, but I have some idea thatmyLartonburysdon't live there. Until I know this, of course, I can say nothing, but it is astrong case, and he can wait with great safety. Be sure you askAugustus, and write to me directly toLady de Gules's.

"We came to town by a special train with lots of Members of Parliament. I could not seeAugustus, my dear, but the others did not look so unhappy at being without their wives as you pathetically tell me he looked on leaving you. O you sillyLouisa!

"I hope I have given you a full account of the day's proceedings, but the newspapers will tell you the rest—one of the writers was in the carriage with us—I had no idea they were such nice clean people, and he knew more than all the Members put together—there, don't look angry.

"Ever your affectionate,

"Laura."

"Gules House, Saturday."

"P.S.—Be particular about theShropshirebranch, because there are some HerefordLartonburyswho won't do at all, and who ought to be made to change their name. Light hair, dark eyes, and a very affected manner, but not a bad style."

There is a curious epidemic flying about—we hardly know what it is—but it attacks principally the highest and the middle classes. So very contagious is it, and so certain in its effects, that, to our knowledge alone, no less than 5632 families, principally residing at the West-end, have been ordered by their physicians toleave town immediatelyfor "change of air."

Screaming.—A term generally applied to refractory children, and Adelphi farces!

IMPORTANT MEETING OF SMOKE MAKERSIMPORTANT MEETING OF SMOKE MAKERS.

Immense excitement prevails among an important class of manufacturers—those engaged in the manufacture of that atmospheric canopy, the sable expanse of which extends over London and its environs, serving the inhabitants of the whole metropolitan district as a parasol. The cause of this commotion is the Smoke Nuisance Bill—so called; against which a number of gentlemen, and others, professing the principles of Free Carbon, met last night to protest, at the Hole-and-Corner.

The chair having been taken byMr. Sutkins, the business of the meeting commenced with uproar. Comparative silence having been obtained,Mr. Longshaft, brewer, rose to move a resolution, that the principle of the Smoke Bill was at variance with the constitution of England. At a time when London was much more smoky than it is now, it was said that "Liberty is like the air we breathe." Could any atmosphere be more salubrious than that air? Smoke possessed curative properties, especially in reference to hams; and the very essence of smoke was applied for the cure of kippered salmon. He had sent some bottles of smoke from his own brew-house to a celebrated German chemist, who had written him a certificate in the form of a letter, to the effect that he had analysed the smoke, and found it to consist principally of carbon, which possessed antiseptic properties; sulphurous and carbonic acid gases: the former of which acted as a tonic, whilst the latter constituted the enlivening element of bottled ale and stout, ginger beer and soda water. The philosopher had accompanied this statement by a declaration that he, for his part, liked the smoke as a perfume, and would be glad to be supplied with a few more bottles of it for his personal use. Hitherto this beautiful smoke had been allowed to waste its sweetness on the London air, which was now threatened with the deprivation of that singular advantage. The loss of the smoke would not affect him individually much, as he lived some distance out of town; and could only indulge in a whiff now and then, when he went to his place of business. He regarded the attack upon their chimneys as the commencement of an invasion of their hearths; and exhorted all who meant to defend the latter to rally round the former. (Great applause.)

Mr. Funnell, Captain of a Thames steamer, seconded the resolution. In his situation he had good opportunities of hearing the expression of public opinion about the Smoke Bill. People said if Parliament objected to volumes of smoke, why did they publish so many Blue Books? If they wanted to prevent chimneys from puffing they shouldn't have took off the Advertisement duty. What was the use of emancipating Blacks abroad if they wasn't to enjoy freedom at home? That was what the Public had to say about the matter. For his part he looked on the separation of fire and smoke as a unnatural divorce. Consume his own smoke! Why they might as well ask him to consume his own wife. Fire without smoke—by-and-bye, he supposed, it would be bread without butter. What? he expected the next thing would be your scientific legislators would bring in a bill for dividing thunder and lightning. He called this here Smoke Bill the Repeal of the Union. A little smoke on the river was wholesome. A stream that had such a lot of sewers flowing into it required fumigation. He had heard passengers returning from Kew Gardens talk about plants there that lived upon air. In course, the more substance there was in the air the more nutritions it must be both for wegetable and hanimal life. Legislation was going too fast. Ease her! stop her! take a turn astarn! As to this tyrannical and arbitrary Bill ofLord Palminster'sfor the consumption of smoke, he should give it every opposition: and he hoped through their united efforts it would be brought to end in that wery identical object it was directed agin. (Much cheering.)

Mr. Cowlhad the honour to belong to a branch of the medical profession. His practice was the cure of smoky chimneys. He protested against a measure which would deprive him of his patients; and if the Smoke Act was enforced he hoped at least he should receive compensation.

Mr. Gentletwas a producer of smoke. He supposed his interests were affected by this measure, which required the producer to be also the consumer, but did they call that political economy? To be sure he was not the proprietor of a chimney; but he possessed a nose: which came to the same thing. The very occupation he pursued was that of smoking. It was the employment of his life. It might not be a very useful branch of industry: but it was an ornamental one. They knew by the smoke that so gracefully curled from the end of his weed that a Pickwick was near. They knew that a gent of fashionable exterior and elegant manners was nigh likewise. If he was obliged to consume his own smoke, how could he continue to diffuse fragrance in society? He identified himself with the party of smokers; as he was a smoking party himself. If smoke was such a nuisance, why did they make so much the other day at the review at Spithead? Let them put that question in their pipe—and, he would add, smoke it. Talking of pipes, he would tellPalmerstonthat his idea of a chimney consuming its own smoke was a mere sham.

[The speaker resumed his seat amid great laughter, principally from himself, and the meeting terminated as it began, with clamour.

WWHY should young ladies in distress commit suicide, or turn governesses in genteel families, when they might earn a decent competence by penny-a-lining? Can they? Why yes, to be sure they can. For example, here is a piece of that work as characteristic as crochet:—

WHY should young ladies in distress commit suicide, or turn governesses in genteel families, when they might earn a decent competence by penny-a-lining? Can they? Why yes, to be sure they can. For example, here is a piece of that work as characteristic as crochet:—

"The Moors.—This morning, with the break of dawn, the quick report of the rifle would be heard on all the moors of Scotland, and before this sheet is in the hands of our readers, many thousand boxes of birds will have been bagged by the keen sportsmen."

"Many thousand boxes of birds," each box containing several, will have been "bagged by the keen sportsmen;" every single bird almost out of the several thousand bagged on "the quick report of the rifle." For, you see, the rifle could not, except very rarely, kill two birds with one bullet: so that a brace of grouse dropping to the "quick report of the rifle" would be a rare occurrence. Pop goes the rifle; down goes the bird, perhaps; but that is all, in general. As the keenest sportsmen, however, sometimes miss, and rifle balls have a longish range, the sporting on these moors must have been rather dangerous to unfeathered birds as well as to game. Six shots might "achieve;" but the seventh, at least, would, in all probability, "deceive," as the British melodramatist says inDer Freischütz. But we are ourselves firing wide of our mark, or digressing from the point: which is, that the above paragraph, copied from theStirling Journal, is evidently the production of a lady. The sex of the writer is betrayed in the vague allusion to "the rifle." A masculine scribe, with that precision in reference to shooting that cannot be expected from the female mind, would have been more specific, and would have told us whether these wonderful Scotch rifles that brought down so many grouse wereMiniérifles or American revolvers.

A Cabman was summoned before theLord Mayor—The report in theTimesmay be found—For refusing to take in his carriage a fare,Which to do he was legally bound.The cab of defendant, complainant averred,That he saw, disengaged, on the stand;And to hire it proposed, but defendant demurred,And declined to accord the demand.But only to think, now, how gentle, how mild,How pleasant a Cabman can be!As he made the objection, he quietly smiled,And observed that he wanted his Tea.In the same airy strain and light jocular mood,Which we cannot too highly admire,Did the gentleman not, he politely pursued,That refreshment himself, too, require?But how shall we ever the sequel relate?This behaviour, so worthy of praise,Procured—it is really distressing to state—Twenty Shillings—or else Fourteen Days!

A Cabman was summoned before theLord Mayor—The report in theTimesmay be found—For refusing to take in his carriage a fare,Which to do he was legally bound.

A Cabman was summoned before theLord Mayor—

The report in theTimesmay be found—

For refusing to take in his carriage a fare,

Which to do he was legally bound.

The cab of defendant, complainant averred,That he saw, disengaged, on the stand;And to hire it proposed, but defendant demurred,And declined to accord the demand.

The cab of defendant, complainant averred,

That he saw, disengaged, on the stand;

And to hire it proposed, but defendant demurred,

And declined to accord the demand.

But only to think, now, how gentle, how mild,How pleasant a Cabman can be!As he made the objection, he quietly smiled,And observed that he wanted his Tea.

But only to think, now, how gentle, how mild,

How pleasant a Cabman can be!

As he made the objection, he quietly smiled,

And observed that he wanted his Tea.

In the same airy strain and light jocular mood,Which we cannot too highly admire,Did the gentleman not, he politely pursued,That refreshment himself, too, require?

In the same airy strain and light jocular mood,

Which we cannot too highly admire,

Did the gentleman not, he politely pursued,

That refreshment himself, too, require?

But how shall we ever the sequel relate?This behaviour, so worthy of praise,Procured—it is really distressing to state—Twenty Shillings—or else Fourteen Days!

But how shall we ever the sequel relate?

This behaviour, so worthy of praise,

Procured—it is really distressing to state—

Twenty Shillings—or else Fourteen Days!

POR DON VELASQUEZ CROCKER, UN INGENIO DE ESTA CORTE.

The manuscript of the following "True Discovery of Iximaya," by "a wit of this court" (as the old Spanish dramatists would have said), was brought toMr. Punch'soffice, together with three pounds of chocolate and a box of cigars, by an unknown hand.Mr. Punchforgives the mixed jargon of the verses, being moved thereto by the integrity of the chocolate and cigars, which were entirely Spanish; but, as his readers have not tasted of the one, or inhaled the fumes of the other, he has employed three of the best Spanish scholars in the Foreign Office (placed at his disposal byLord Clarendon) to prepare the annexed translations of his correspondent's most recondite phrases.

Senor Punch, amigo mio; cuyo sobremucho brioTodo triste enfado rio drives from out the heart of man!Judith, cuyo cor aïroso ofiende su esposo!YTobias, tan jocoso, de los canes Grande Can!Hear a singular narration of a long-lost Aztec nationIn a lonely situation dwelling on its ancient plan;I alone have entered into its forbidden lands by dint o'All the wit ofMendez Pinto, and the brass ofJonathan.In the town of Guatemala, sitting in the antesala(That you know's the tap-room parlour) of a queer old Spanish inn,While the portly Mesoñero—platicante el dineroDe tan rico forastero through his appetite to win—Brought from out the meagre larder of his precious poor posadaA sabrosa sazonada, mess of beans, in dripping fried;I was mindful of a greasy Padre, very fat and wheezy,Who, with action free and easy, came and sat him by my side;Saying, "Senor por mi vida, if I share your slight comida,It is not because I need a meal, but that I wish to showMi poquito de respeto por tan principal sujeto.""Tan afable y discreto Padre I am glad to know:You are welcome, father," said I; "my repast, you see is ready,So, if you will bless the bread, I gladly will the half resign."Thus we sat, some white wine sipping, and the pan bendito dippingin the unctuous beans and dripping, till I said, "O! Padre mine,Prithee tell me sin engaños why your old ciudadanosTwixt two large and fierce volcanoes chose to build this lordly town?[2]Uno d'agua rebienta; un con llamas atormentaEl Pueblo; both have sent a raging torrent rolling down.""Ah! amigo muy amado!" said the Padre; "AlvaradoEste lugar mas dichado chose betwixt each fatal spout,Thinking that whene'er they brought or floods of fire or streams of waterOn the town from either quarter, one would put the other out."Then I said, "I've heard men say a town entitled Iximaya,Never seen by white man, lay a few leagues off behind the hills.Is it true, Sir?" Said the Padre, "Por los ojos de mi madre,Vino con los contos cuadre! Talking, dry-lipped, nothing skills.Bring us, quick, some Ratafia and cigars,Doloresmia;Manana sera otro dia; all to-night we'll merry be.Yo estaba un chiquito (here he took a cigarrito)Algo de lo pastorcito, when its walls I chanced to see:'Twas from yonder high Sierra's cloud-encircled summit; where aVagabunda negra perra, which I loved, had gone astray,Sus esplandientes tejas, blancas como mis ovejas,I could see and count the rejas, tho' 'twas twenty leagues away."Struck by what the priest related, for a while I meditatedHow to find if what he stated were the very truth, or no.Then I said, "You live so near it, that methinks 'tis somewhat queer itIs not better known down here." "It, Senor," said he, "is not so!Por, sus gallos y gallinas, envueltos en basquinasViven en profundas minas, lest they should be heard to crow."Slily toDoloreswinking, straight I left the Padre drinking,And departed quickly, thinking, "I will make a journey there."Soon I paid the Mesoñero; sought me out an Arrièro,Asked the road, and hired a pair o' steady mules and paid the fare.Dificil y peregrino se mostraba el camino;Nunca Mulatèro vino on that lonely road before;Por las selvas mas obscuras, y profundas espesuras,Where the jaguar would be sure, as we appeared, to give a roar,Por los montes y fuentes, y arroyas sin puentes,Where the alligator spent his leisure hours, on we bore;Till the Mulatèro dying, I was forced to leave him, lyingOn the mountain after trying circulation to restore.Then for want of preparation for my novel situationI was threatened with starvation; ate the very clothes I wore;Comi yo de las albardas por el tanto Sol asadas;Cenè de las almohadas sodden in the streams I past;Till one day, desaliñado, flaco, manco, fatigado,I attained (A! desdichado!) Iximaya's walls at last.Ricos hombres, bellas damas, que con frescas verdes ramasGobernaron blancas llamas, came to meet me at the gate,En su lengua me hablaron, y mi garbo alabaron,(Though I must have looked a rare one) led me in, in wondrous state:Took me to the Casa Real, where the King and Queen at tea, allJoyful any white to see, allowed me there to stop and sup.Quando dormir partiamos, El Rey dijo, "Te amàmosAntesque al lecho vamos, let us take a parting cup!"Early the ensuing morning, I my person was adorning,When without the slightest warning, some one came into my room.Su semblante presumido, y su limpio vestidoCon toallas guarnecido, made me for a while presume'Twas the barber come to shave me, curl, shampoo, perfume, and lave me;But an awful turn it gave me, when I saw he had a knife.Thought I, "If it's not the barber, peor esta que estaba,Some designs they sure must harbour 'gainst my sad unhappy life,"Hombres de colossal talle metièron me en calle,Saying to each other, "Shall he cheat the sun and stars and moon?No! but at the rich and costly shrine ofHuetzilopoztli(That's the god they worship mostly) he shall be a victim soon."Y llevaron me eutonces to the temple, for the duncesDidn't know that more than once his life the stranger tried to beg.But a condor o'er me flying, just as I was sadly lyingOn the sacrificial stone and crying, let me catch him by the leg.One priest held me by the paletôt, but the condor soared in altoAire with me till, por falto de fuerzas, down he fell,And I woke in the posada, where my reverend camaradaAt the self-same almohada I was holding tugged as well.So if you should hear one day a little more of Iximaya,In the speaker's ear just say a single verse ofCalderon,"In this world, so full of seeming, all the sons of men live dreaming;That their dreams are true still deeming. 'Y sueños sueños son.'"

Senor Punch, amigo mio; cuyo sobremucho brio

Todo triste enfado rio drives from out the heart of man!

Judith, cuyo cor aïroso ofiende su esposo!

YTobias, tan jocoso, de los canes Grande Can!

Hear a singular narration of a long-lost Aztec nation

In a lonely situation dwelling on its ancient plan;

I alone have entered into its forbidden lands by dint o'

All the wit ofMendez Pinto, and the brass ofJonathan.

In the town of Guatemala, sitting in the antesala

(That you know's the tap-room parlour) of a queer old Spanish inn,

While the portly Mesoñero—platicante el dinero

De tan rico forastero through his appetite to win—

Brought from out the meagre larder of his precious poor posada

A sabrosa sazonada, mess of beans, in dripping fried;

I was mindful of a greasy Padre, very fat and wheezy,

Who, with action free and easy, came and sat him by my side;

Saying, "Senor por mi vida, if I share your slight comida,

It is not because I need a meal, but that I wish to show

Mi poquito de respeto por tan principal sujeto."

"Tan afable y discreto Padre I am glad to know:

You are welcome, father," said I; "my repast, you see is ready,

So, if you will bless the bread, I gladly will the half resign."

Thus we sat, some white wine sipping, and the pan bendito dipping

in the unctuous beans and dripping, till I said, "O! Padre mine,

Prithee tell me sin engaños why your old ciudadanos

Twixt two large and fierce volcanoes chose to build this lordly town?[2]

Uno d'agua rebienta; un con llamas atormenta

El Pueblo; both have sent a raging torrent rolling down."

"Ah! amigo muy amado!" said the Padre; "Alvarado

Este lugar mas dichado chose betwixt each fatal spout,

Thinking that whene'er they brought or floods of fire or streams of water

On the town from either quarter, one would put the other out."

Then I said, "I've heard men say a town entitled Iximaya,

Never seen by white man, lay a few leagues off behind the hills.

Is it true, Sir?" Said the Padre, "Por los ojos de mi madre,

Vino con los contos cuadre! Talking, dry-lipped, nothing skills.

Bring us, quick, some Ratafia and cigars,Doloresmia;

Manana sera otro dia; all to-night we'll merry be.

Yo estaba un chiquito (here he took a cigarrito)

Algo de lo pastorcito, when its walls I chanced to see:

'Twas from yonder high Sierra's cloud-encircled summit; where a

Vagabunda negra perra, which I loved, had gone astray,

Sus esplandientes tejas, blancas como mis ovejas,

I could see and count the rejas, tho' 'twas twenty leagues away."

Struck by what the priest related, for a while I meditatedHow to find if what he stated were the very truth, or no.Then I said, "You live so near it, that methinks 'tis somewhat queer itIs not better known down here." "It, Senor," said he, "is not so!Por, sus gallos y gallinas, envueltos en basquinasViven en profundas minas, lest they should be heard to crow."Slily toDoloreswinking, straight I left the Padre drinking,And departed quickly, thinking, "I will make a journey there."Soon I paid the Mesoñero; sought me out an Arrièro,Asked the road, and hired a pair o' steady mules and paid the fare.Dificil y peregrino se mostraba el camino;Nunca Mulatèro vino on that lonely road before;Por las selvas mas obscuras, y profundas espesuras,Where the jaguar would be sure, as we appeared, to give a roar,Por los montes y fuentes, y arroyas sin puentes,Where the alligator spent his leisure hours, on we bore;Till the Mulatèro dying, I was forced to leave him, lyingOn the mountain after trying circulation to restore.Then for want of preparation for my novel situationI was threatened with starvation; ate the very clothes I wore;Comi yo de las albardas por el tanto Sol asadas;Cenè de las almohadas sodden in the streams I past;Till one day, desaliñado, flaco, manco, fatigado,I attained (A! desdichado!) Iximaya's walls at last.Ricos hombres, bellas damas, que con frescas verdes ramasGobernaron blancas llamas, came to meet me at the gate,En su lengua me hablaron, y mi garbo alabaron,(Though I must have looked a rare one) led me in, in wondrous state:Took me to the Casa Real, where the King and Queen at tea, allJoyful any white to see, allowed me there to stop and sup.Quando dormir partiamos, El Rey dijo, "Te amàmosAntesque al lecho vamos, let us take a parting cup!"Early the ensuing morning, I my person was adorning,When without the slightest warning, some one came into my room.Su semblante presumido, y su limpio vestidoCon toallas guarnecido, made me for a while presume'Twas the barber come to shave me, curl, shampoo, perfume, and lave me;But an awful turn it gave me, when I saw he had a knife.Thought I, "If it's not the barber, peor esta que estaba,Some designs they sure must harbour 'gainst my sad unhappy life,"Hombres de colossal talle metièron me en calle,Saying to each other, "Shall he cheat the sun and stars and moon?No! but at the rich and costly shrine ofHuetzilopoztli(That's the god they worship mostly) he shall be a victim soon."Y llevaron me eutonces to the temple, for the duncesDidn't know that more than once his life the stranger tried to beg.But a condor o'er me flying, just as I was sadly lyingOn the sacrificial stone and crying, let me catch him by the leg.One priest held me by the paletôt, but the condor soared in altoAire with me till, por falto de fuerzas, down he fell,And I woke in the posada, where my reverend camaradaAt the self-same almohada I was holding tugged as well.So if you should hear one day a little more of Iximaya,In the speaker's ear just say a single verse ofCalderon,"In this world, so full of seeming, all the sons of men live dreaming;That their dreams are true still deeming. 'Y sueños sueños son.'"

Struck by what the priest related, for a while I meditated

How to find if what he stated were the very truth, or no.

Then I said, "You live so near it, that methinks 'tis somewhat queer it

Is not better known down here." "It, Senor," said he, "is not so!

Por, sus gallos y gallinas, envueltos en basquinas

Viven en profundas minas, lest they should be heard to crow."

Slily toDoloreswinking, straight I left the Padre drinking,

And departed quickly, thinking, "I will make a journey there."

Soon I paid the Mesoñero; sought me out an Arrièro,

Asked the road, and hired a pair o' steady mules and paid the fare.

Dificil y peregrino se mostraba el camino;

Nunca Mulatèro vino on that lonely road before;

Por las selvas mas obscuras, y profundas espesuras,

Where the jaguar would be sure, as we appeared, to give a roar,

Por los montes y fuentes, y arroyas sin puentes,

Where the alligator spent his leisure hours, on we bore;

Till the Mulatèro dying, I was forced to leave him, lying

On the mountain after trying circulation to restore.

Then for want of preparation for my novel situation

I was threatened with starvation; ate the very clothes I wore;

Comi yo de las albardas por el tanto Sol asadas;

Cenè de las almohadas sodden in the streams I past;

Till one day, desaliñado, flaco, manco, fatigado,

I attained (A! desdichado!) Iximaya's walls at last.

Ricos hombres, bellas damas, que con frescas verdes ramas

Gobernaron blancas llamas, came to meet me at the gate,

En su lengua me hablaron, y mi garbo alabaron,

(Though I must have looked a rare one) led me in, in wondrous state:

Took me to the Casa Real, where the King and Queen at tea, all

Joyful any white to see, allowed me there to stop and sup.

Quando dormir partiamos, El Rey dijo, "Te amàmos

Antesque al lecho vamos, let us take a parting cup!"

Early the ensuing morning, I my person was adorning,

When without the slightest warning, some one came into my room.

Su semblante presumido, y su limpio vestido

Con toallas guarnecido, made me for a while presume

'Twas the barber come to shave me, curl, shampoo, perfume, and lave me;

But an awful turn it gave me, when I saw he had a knife.

Thought I, "If it's not the barber, peor esta que estaba,

Some designs they sure must harbour 'gainst my sad unhappy life,"

Hombres de colossal talle metièron me en calle,

Saying to each other, "Shall he cheat the sun and stars and moon?

No! but at the rich and costly shrine ofHuetzilopoztli

(That's the god they worship mostly) he shall be a victim soon."

Y llevaron me eutonces to the temple, for the dunces

Didn't know that more than once his life the stranger tried to beg.

But a condor o'er me flying, just as I was sadly lying

On the sacrificial stone and crying, let me catch him by the leg.

One priest held me by the paletôt, but the condor soared in alto

Aire with me till, por falto de fuerzas, down he fell,

And I woke in the posada, where my reverend camarada

At the self-same almohada I was holding tugged as well.

So if you should hear one day a little more of Iximaya,

In the speaker's ear just say a single verse ofCalderon,

"In this world, so full of seeming, all the sons of men live dreaming;

That their dreams are true still deeming. 'Y sueños sueños son.'"

"Senor Punch, &c." My good friendPunch, whose superabundant pluck expels every sad annoyance, &c., &c.Judy, whose valorous heart disturbs her spouse, and thou, O, jocose Toby! of all other dogs, the grand dog (for the so-called Italian prince was but a type of thee)."Mesoñero, &c." The innkeeper considering how to win the silver of so rich a stranger."Posada." An inn where you should, but cannot repose.Lucus & non lucendo."Comida." Dinner, otherwise a periphrasis for beans and dripping."Mi poquito, &c." My little modicum of respect for so principal a person."Uno d'agua, &c." One bursts with water, the other torments the town with flames.

"Mesoñero, &c." The innkeeper considering how to win the silver of so rich a stranger.

"Posada." An inn where you should, but cannot repose.Lucus & non lucendo.

"Comida." Dinner, otherwise a periphrasis for beans and dripping.

"Mi poquito, &c." My little modicum of respect for so principal a person.

"Uno d'agua, &c." One bursts with water, the other torments the town with flames.

"O, wondrous policy! From North to South,Austria and France shoot in each other's mouth.

"O, wondrous policy! From North to South,

Austria and France shoot in each other's mouth.

"Este lugar." This delightful residence."Por los ojos, &c." By the eyes of my mother wine and talking go together."Manana." To-morrow will be another sort of day."Yo estaba, &c." I was a younker doing a little bit of the shepherd."Vagabunda, &c." A vagabond black female dog. "Sus, &c." Its shining roofs, white as my sheep. "Rejas." Windows."Por los gallos, &e." For the cocks and hens, with their heads wrapped in cloaks, live in cellars."Dificil, &c." The road proved strange and difficult. No muleteer had travelled it before."Arroyas sin puentes, &c." Rivers without bridges."Comi, &c." I dined on the saddles cooked by the heat of the sun. I supped upon their cushions, sodden, &c."Ricos hombres, &c." Noblemen and beautiful ladies, who guided milk-white llamas with fresh green boughs."Quando, &c." When we were going to bed the King said, "We love thee," and then followed in the language of the nursery rhyme, "Let's take a cup," said Greedy. "We'll sup before we go.""Su semblante, &c." His conceited look and white dress garnished with towels."Peor esta, &c." I am out of the frying-pan into the fire."Hombres, &c." Men of colossal figure put me into the street."Y llevaron, &c." And carried me off at once."Por falto, &c." For want of strength."Y sueños, &c." Dreams are only dreams.

"Este lugar." This delightful residence.

"Por los ojos, &c." By the eyes of my mother wine and talking go together.

"Manana." To-morrow will be another sort of day.

"Yo estaba, &c." I was a younker doing a little bit of the shepherd.

"Vagabunda, &c." A vagabond black female dog. "Sus, &c." Its shining roofs, white as my sheep. "Rejas." Windows.

"Por los gallos, &e." For the cocks and hens, with their heads wrapped in cloaks, live in cellars.

"Dificil, &c." The road proved strange and difficult. No muleteer had travelled it before.

"Arroyas sin puentes, &c." Rivers without bridges.

"Comi, &c." I dined on the saddles cooked by the heat of the sun. I supped upon their cushions, sodden, &c.

"Ricos hombres, &c." Noblemen and beautiful ladies, who guided milk-white llamas with fresh green boughs.

"Quando, &c." When we were going to bed the King said, "We love thee," and then followed in the language of the nursery rhyme, "Let's take a cup," said Greedy. "We'll sup before we go."

"Su semblante, &c." His conceited look and white dress garnished with towels.

"Peor esta, &c." I am out of the frying-pan into the fire.

"Hombres, &c." Men of colossal figure put me into the street.

"Y llevaron, &c." And carried me off at once.

"Por falto, &c." For want of strength.

"Y sueños, &c." Dreams are only dreams.

[2]The town stands between two volcanos: one of fire, the other of water.

There is this difference between the great tragedian at the Olympic and the great burlesque actor at the Princess's:—That whereasMr. Robsonelevates burlesque into tragedy,Mr. Charles Keanlowers tragedy into burlesque.

The seizure of the Principalities by the Russian bear was an act of aggression which must be allowed to be unblushingly bear-faced.

Pity.—We have a great pity for a man who is ruining himself, but very little for the man who is ruined.

AA Numerous and highly influenced meeting took place last evening at Glasgow, to protest against the proposed opening of the Crystal Palace on Sundays, as being likely to lead to that of other instructive exhibitions, tending to seduce the people from the spirituous observance of the Sabbath.

A Numerous and highly influenced meeting took place last evening at Glasgow, to protest against the proposed opening of the Crystal Palace on Sundays, as being likely to lead to that of other instructive exhibitions, tending to seduce the people from the spirituous observance of the Sabbath.

It is notorious that the sobriety of Scotland, generally, is particularly exemplified in the statistics of drunkenness at Glasgow. The assembly of Sabbatarians was held in the building appropriately denominated the National Temperance Hall. There were about a thousand persons present, though a gentleman on the platform declared that he saw twice as many.

The chair having been taken by aMr. M'Glashan, orGregalach—we could not, as he himself gave the name, make out which—the proceedings commenced with an inarticulate solemnity. The Chairman then called uponMiss Smasher—as we understood. He meant, however,Mr. Maxswill, deacon and drysalter, who said—Gemman-ladies—hech!—that is, mabluvbraythren—an' sesthers—'a shink a neednafashmysel' to shplain zh' objeck o' zhis meet'n. (Hum!) 'Su mosportant objeck. Nashligion! Nashmorality! 'Scration o' Shabbas. Zha's zh' objeck—to preven' 'scration o' Shabbas (Hum-um-m-m-m!) Joost that. 'A shay, to preven' 'scration o' Shabbas. By op'nin' Crishlpalaceashunday. Na' ca' zhat 'scration o' Shabbas? Na' 'scration o' Shabbas?—then sh'like to ken wast ish. Not a Scosh quesh'n? Zha's an unco lee! Mosportant Scosh quesh'n. Joost your neebor's biggin in a low!—zha's a'. Infecsh'n spread like wildfire and brimson. Scotland catch't o' England (Hech! hech! and laughter). Open Crishpalace—open Brismusheum neist—open Nashgallery—open a' siccan places—enst'tutes—hawsoscience—aiblins leebraries—whilk is waur. Gar sinfuwretches taktobuiks! Sh' prospeck's awfu'! Hop a' shall nev' livetosee sic bocksli'nes i' Scotlum. Scosh a mol people. A molpeople an' ar'leegious people. 'Stroy 'leegion shap zh' varra base o' morality. 'MortalBurns(Cheers)—Cotter's Saturday Night (Immense applause) Eh? But open Crishpalace a Sun'ay and whosh's become o' Cotter's Sunday morrin'? Cotter's a' richt noo a Sun' mor'n. A'richt! Gin not at kirk—seekin' speeritchal cons'lation elsewhar. (Hech, hech! hum-um-m-m!) Takkin's nappie over his wee drappie in's ainhameithinglenook. Bet' be dune zhat zhan glowrin at peckturs, an' stotchies, an' stuff'dbirdies an' beasties, forbye lezzardancrawcadil deevles—objecks o' nashistory an' artanshiensh, an' ither warks o' darkness—o'zh Shabb's. Scollan ev' tollate sush 'scration o' Shabbash as zhash? (Never, never!) Weelzhen!—mush lay protest at zh' foot o' shrone. Temp'rate and 'shpeckful protesh!—mush be temp'rate and shpeckful! But firmansteady. An' plain—not be mishunstood. Joost as 'a stan' the noo o' mahurdies—joost as 'a shpeak—zh' firm and speckf'l temp't anshteady pro'st o' zh shober 'nabitantsh a Glassgie gains 'scration o' Shabbas. (Tremendous cheers.)

The speaker then proceeded to move a resolution, but found unfortunately that he could not see to read it. He was followed in speeches of a character similar to the above, byBaillie M'Bree,Mr. Sottie M'Quaigh,Mr. Pintstoupie,Mr. Williewaucht, and theRev. Mr. Toddiewhoskie. "We are na fou'" was then sung, and the meeting separated at a late hour in a state of excitement bordering ondelirium tremens.

A BIT OF SENTIMENTA BIT OF SENTIMENT.(Founded upon a Popular Song.)"Well, Frank! This delightful Camp is nearly over.""Hm, Haw! Ya-as! and if you'll allow me, I'll take a last Fond Look, and a—a—lean upon my what dy'e call it, as the song says, and a—wipe away a Te—ar!"

(Founded upon a Popular Song.)

"Well, Frank! This delightful Camp is nearly over."

"Hm, Haw! Ya-as! and if you'll allow me, I'll take a last Fond Look, and a—a—lean upon my what dy'e call it, as the song says, and a—wipe away a Te—ar!"

Sir J. V. Shelleyreads a circular in the House of Commons summoning certain members to attend on a certain occasion for a certain party purpose. The document bears the signature ofC. H. Frewen. It is couched in a spirit of low cunning, and tends to reflect great discredit on its author.

Mr. C. H. Frewenwrites toSir J. V. Shelley, demanding to know from whom he had received this circular; a private letter presumably given to him in breach of confidence.

Sir J. V. Shelleyreplies that the circular was a printed document, and therefore not entitled to be considered private. WhereuponMr. C. H. Frewen(who dates his letters from Cold Overton Hall) replies that, no matter for that, or in whatever way he got possessed of it, the man who would read such a letter in such a way

"Can have no pretensions to call himself a gentleman."

But stay. We do not say that all this is true. We only say that it has appeared in theTimes. For aught we know, theTimesmay be a facetious contemporary, cracking jokes on the head ofMr. Frewen, as if it were a thick one. We do not mean to say thatMr. Frewenmade such an ass of himself, as he did make, if his correspondence, as printed in theTimes, is genuine. But, however,Sir J. V. Shelley—always according to theTimes, mind—rejoins by desiring ofMr. Frewenthat the whole of the correspondence should be published, as the first letter had been, and declining to answer any more letters. And then:—

"Mr. Frewenreturns this letter unopened.Sir J. Shellyought to be aware thatMr. Frewencannot receive any more communications from him except through another person."

What doesMr. Frewenmean by this?—if the nonsense is his really? Surely not the old bluster, the obsolete bullying trick; Chalk Farm, pistols and coffee for two, with cock pheasant also if required for the satisfaction of a gentleman desiring a bellyfull for breakfast. Not an invitation to fight a duel; that ridiculous anachronism; the necessary consequence of which in these days, to the principal fools concerned in it, each of them, must be getting either shot, or imprisoned, or laughed at; most probably the latter. Shot by the other fool; imprisoned—if not hanged—for shooting him; or laughed at for neither having shot him nor been shot by him; but probably having simply exchanged with him a blank pop! IfMr. Frewenhas indeed been such a booby as it appears in theTimesthat he has,Mr. Punchcan only say that he would recommend him to change the designation of Cold Overton to that of Clod Hall, and to assume the name, together with the arms, ofBob Acres.

Here is a gross libel or a fine satire:—

MR. R. L——, MEDICAL HERBALIST, 15,I—— Street, Roxburgh Terrace, begs respectfully to intimate, that as a great many Persons have been very desirous to see the Serpent which he extracted alive lately from the breast of a lady labouring under Cancer, he will be most happy to show it to those interested, any day from 10 to 12 o'clock, at his house, 15, I—— Street.Edinburgh, 12th August, 1853.

This is either a libel upon somebody or other, glanced at under the figure of the Serpent: or it is a satire on the gullibility of the inhabitants of Edinburgh, from theNewsof which city it is extracted. The modern Athenians, with all their acuteness, are said to be rather susceptible subjects for quackery.

We observe that at one of the Metropolitan theatres an endeavour has been made to dramatiseThe Times. We admit some curiosity to know in what way the leading journal has been adapted to the purposes of the Stage. During this hot weather it is of course impossible for us to visit the theatre; but in the mean time we have drawn upon our melodramatic reminiscences, and have sketched what we suppose must be the playbill ofThe Times. We are, however, open to conviction, should our anticipations have been inadequate.

ACT ONE.

Scene 1.—Printing House Square, by moonlight. A policeman on duty. Clank of the steampress heard amid the silence, and distant plash of the river. Coronetted carriage driven hastily in. Beautiful and fashionable lady, in opera costume, alights. Her agitation. "He must be saved." She dashes hastily into the building. Policeman saunters up and examines arms on carriage, and the next moment is recognised by the flunkey. "Ha! my Lord." "Silence, my faithfulJeemes." Resumes his walk. Lights seen along a passage—mysterious lady is being conducted to theEditorial Chamber!

Scene 2.—The Strand. Meeting of two Reporters, one coming up from the House of Commons, the other going down. "Likely to sit?" "Another hour—Irish row." "Bless those Irish!" "Amen." They part—exitReporter to the House. The other lights a cigar, and three ruffians spring out upon him. They have long Macintosh coats, but beneath the disguise is seen the glittering uniform of the Guards. "You bring the wepawt ofLord Namby Macpamby'sSpeech!" "I have." "Hand it over." "With my life only." They seize him, but he dashes his cigar into the face of the first, and wrestles with the second, but would be over-mastered by the third, when the latter is dashed to the earth. Two run away, the last is prisoner. "But, who is my preserver?" "Sir, I am but a numble actor, but you were once kyind to me in a notice of myClownin the Pantermine, and, believe me, Sir, kyindness is like the gentle jew from eaven, which droppeth, &c." They drag the prisoner beneath a lamp. "The Right Honourable the Marquis of Haughtycastle!Ha, minion!" "Nay, let him go—my numble Friend. I know the game.A Lady's Secret."

Scene 3.—Same as first. Beautiful woman comes out in tears. "He was most courteous, but firm as the monumental adamant." She enters the carriage, and throws herself sobbing on the cushion. Policeman springs in after her, and seating himself opposite, throws his bull's-eye full on her face. "My husband!" "Aye, wrrrretched woman. Drive on,Jeemes." (In a voice of thunder.) "HOME!" (With intense irony,) "Yourhome, Madam; yours,once lovedCoronettina."

ACT TWO.

The House of Commons. Very full. Cries of "Order, order!" Clamour increases, and no one can be heard. Fifty Members on their legs, trying to speak.Lord John Russellsprings upon the table and gesticulates violently; but all that can be heard from him, is "Obleege," and "Constitution."Mr. Disraelidashes his hand furiously upon the Green Box, which gives way, and all his oranges roll out. Scramble and comic business.Lord Namby Macpambyrises; dressed in the extreme of fashion, and also extremely tipsy. Terrific cries of "Spoke, spoke!" The Chairman of Committees falls on his knees and pleads for silence, but sinks beneath the volley of blue books, votes, and bills, instantly hurled at him from all the Members. Suddenly theSpeakerrushes in, seizes the mace, and lays about him on every side. Members are knocked over one another. Tremendous confusion! Fights!—and Curtain.

ACT THREE.

The Editor's Ante-Chamber. Several of the Ministers waiting to see him; some with glittering stars, blue ribbons, &c. A door opens (centre), and an eminent Stockjobber is kicked into the middle of the scene, and falls—a huge bag of sovereigns in each hand. Bags burst, and the gold strews the stage. "I offered £500,000 for leave to put in one article." Proud tribute to the British Press. Porters sweep up the gold, and throw it out at window, and the Stockjobber after it. EnterLord Asteriskdragging the beautiful lady. "Ha! you here, my lords! But 'tis well. She appealed to the "Times" and I have brought her hither." Lady on her knees—back hair down. "I am innocent—indeed I am innocent." "I am not to be juped, Madam." "I swear it." "I believe you not. Your adorers, in disguise, have been staining the pure streets of our proud Metropolis with ruffianism. But in vain, Madam." "In vain! Wretched me!" "Now by all that is sulphureous"—(he draws the sword usually worn by the British aristocrat)—"HOLD!!!" Awful appearance of theEditor. "Mistaken nobleman! She came but to save herBrother, Lord Namby Macpamby.He has spoken in the House to-night, and knowing what a dreadful fool he is, she wished his speech suppressed, thatyour brother-in-law'sidiotcy might not be published all over the world." "Her brother! And those Guardsmen!" "Her cousins." "Ow! ow! ow! Can you forgive me,Coronettina?" "Am I not your wife, dearest?" TheEditor, moved, tears upLord Namby Macpamby'sspeech. "One husk will not be missed amid so much chaff."

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