The other day I went to this exhibition of sublime masterpieces. I was about to write a few comments, full of strange epithets and gushing praise, when a small girl came in with a lady. The child spoke so freely that I paused to listen. This was her criticism. "Oh, mother, what's that meant for? I can't see anything. Look at that lady! She's got no face at all. Oh, look at that other! She's funnier. What is she? A Spanish dancer? Do all Spanish dancers have knobbly faces like you might make out of a potato? What are those people skating on? Is it cotton wool? Oh, mother, look there! What an ugly lady! Why's she put all that red on her cheeks? What's all that other red there? Is it another lady? A church in Venice? What Olympia where you took me two years ago? Oh, mother, it can't be a church! Unless it's upside down. Or perhaps all the paints have run into one another like mine do. Oh, look! There's a picture of a washstand. Is it an advertisement of a furniture shop? Or is it meant for what father calls a slight wash in his water-colour drawings? What are those ladies dancing in sheets for? Is it sheets they've got on? Oh what a red face that gentleman's got! I don't think they paint very pretty ladies or gentlemen here. Oh, mother, look at that! Why it's the funniest of all! Who are the two ladies? Why are their clothes slipping down? Why are their faces all crooked, and their eyes sideways? Are they meant to be pretty? I don't think they are. What do you say it is? Meant to be painted on the wall of a room? Is that why they look so funny? Why they look like Aunt Kitty, when she's going to have a sea bath, and when——" Here the little maiden was suddenly dragged out of the room, and her shrill voice was heard no more. But her winged words are not forgotten by
A Crushed Critic.
AN EASTER 'OLIDAY.
(A Siesta Song, from the Burlesque Opera "Little Liberal Majority," performed at the Theatre Royal, St. Stephen's.)
Air—"Lazily, Drowsily."
When gaily dances the Easter sun,
And shelved is each bothersome Bill,
Then work and talk for a time are done,
And the lobbies are hushed and still.