Dear little maid.
"How are you off for ——?"—Messrs. A. and F. P-rs, a name which rhymes to the first and final word of the line, "Tears, idle Tears" (by the way, what a delightful song for a Radical to sing, "Peers, idle Peers!"), write to Mr. Punch, informing him of the supreme excellence of the P-rs' Christmas Number, asking him to notice it, as he probably would do, in his pages, and adding that "it is already out of print." Then what is the use of drawing attention to it? Of course, if being out of print makes it the more valuable, then lucky are the possessors of original specimens, and well indeed are they off for the material for which the Upper House or House of P-rs is famed.
The Silk Industry (not from the Board of Trade Returns).—Mr. J. F. Leese, Q.C., M.P., appointed Recorder of Manchester. Mr. Punch wishes this capital cricketer a long innings, and may Manchester have a Leese that will run for any number of years without expiring.
A CHANCE FOR THE BRIEFLESS.
Dear Mr. Punch,—I am a briefless barrister, and I wish to throw myself upon your generosity by asking you to allow me to make a suggestion which will be of great public interest, and incidentally help me to make my fortune. All London to-day is placarded with a thrilling picture of the Law-Court Scene in A Woman's Revenge. My suggestion is—Why not have real barristers? The theatre to-day is nothing if not realistic. Drury Lane has its race-horses, Ibsenity its ghosts—why should not the Adelphi take the town by storm with its barristers? The actor may, no doubt does, act the part admirably, but who can contend that he can possibly do so as well as could a real, actual barrister, who would know that he was striving not merely for the applause of the moment, but for the guinead briefs of the future? If Messrs. Gatti will undertake to accept the plan, I will undertake to provide the barristers. The programme would then run:—
Sir John Blacklock, Q.C. (Counsel for the Crown) . . . Mr. A. B., 102, Temple Gardens, Temple, E.C.