Belated Orator (perorating to an embarrassed stranger on a seat before him, under a muddled impression that he is addressing a spell-bound multitude).  I tell yer—­yes, hevery man, and hevery woman among yer—­(Here he bends forward, and touches his hearer’s right and left elbow impressively) don’t you go away under the impression I’m talking of what I don’t understan’! (The Stranger shifts his leg and looks another way.) I speak sense, don’t I? You never ‘eard nothin’ like this afore, any of yer, ’ave yer?  That’s because I read between the lines! (Waving his arm wildly.) An’ I want heach man and boy of you to ’member my words, and hact upon them when the time comes!

    [Here he staggers off with a proud and exalted air, to the
    immense relief of his hearer.

A Professional Pietist (with a modest working capital of one hymn and a nasal drone).  “My richest gynes” ... (To Charitable Passer.  A copper, Sir? bless your kind ’art!) “I cayount” ... (Examining it. A bloomin’ French ‘ap’ny!) ... “but loss; And pour contemp’” ... (Call yerself a Christian gen’lman, yer—­&c.) ... “on a—­a—­ll my proide!”

    (Here the Reader will probably have had enough of it.)

* * * * *

A REAL TREAT.—­Advice to Covent-gardeners.—­If Carmen is to be done again this season with the same cast as it had on Saturday last, no one who cares for an exceptionally first-rate performance should miss this opera-tunity.  There is no better representative of Carmen than Mlle. ZELIE DE LUSSAN,—­how can there be, since the Spanish Gipsy heroine of the plot is herself a Loose ’un?  Madame MELBA was charming as Mickie Ella, the Irish girl in Spain.  M. LASSALLE appeared as Escamillo. the bull-fighter, in a novel, and doubtless a correct, costume, and his great Toreador song was vociferously encored.  Then, finally, JEAN DE RESKE, who made of the usually idiotic Don Jose a fine acting as well as a fine singing part.  It drew a big house, and would have been a pretty dish to set before an Emperor on Wednesday, if, on that occasion, the Opera itself were the only consideration.

* * * * *

THE FIRE KING’S ABDICATION.

[Illustration]

  “My palate is parched with Pierian thirst,
    Away to Parnassus I’m beckoned.” 
  I sing of the glories of Fire King the First! 
    (Who’s fit to be Fire King the Second?)

  Captain EYRE MASSEY SHAW is a “Sovereign” indeed,
    Abdicating?  Alas! that too true is;
  For he’s a Fire King of a different breed
    From the Monarch described by MONK LEWIS.

  No mere King of Flames, fiery-faced a la SKELT,
    Inhabiting regions most torrid,
  With a breath that is warranted copper to melt,
    And eyes indescribably horrid.