NOW WE'RE FURNISHED!
This is how the Guardians of the Midleton Union (County Cork) transact business:—
"Mr. Morrison (to the Chairman). You promised to write to the Local Government Board, and do it now. (Noise and interruptions.)
"Mr. Murphy (warmly). I say the whole thing is all humbug, and based upon humbug.
"(At this stage there was great noise and confusion, several gentlemen speaking at the same time.)
"Chairman (very warmly, and hitting the table). I say I am not a humbug, and I was never a humbug, and I hope I'll never have to be displaced from any public position because I was a humbug or a proved humbug."
Why did not the table turn upon the chair, and hit it back? This would have been a real case of table-turning. To parody Edward Lear's delightful Nonsense Songs,
Said the Table to the Chair,
"You can hardly be aware
How it feels when you come down
With your fist upon my crown."
"Menus Plaisirs."—One of the best menus of the season provided by the Lyceum House of Entertainment included, or rather did include, during last week past, such choice dishes, so much to the taste of everyone, as The Ris d'Ellen Terry à la Nance Oldfield and Tête de Mathias à la Henri premier. Appropriately, of course, did the orchestra, which plays before each performance, give the old familiar airs of "I would I were with Nancy!" and "The Bells are ringing for"—Mathias—not for "Sara."
