"In Nubibus."—Wright, the convict and ex-solicitor of the Liberator Building Society, said in the course of examination at the London Bankruptcy Court that he was "formerly tenant of Cloughton Castle in Ireland. That was only a small place, but it was customary in Ireland to call almost everything a castle." Quite Wright. Home Rule is now one of these Châteaux d' Espagne in Ireland, and "to let."
THE GENERAL ELECTION.
Oh pity an unhappy man
Reduced to desperate dejection!
There's nothing happening but an Election.
Eternally it worries me,
Inducing cerebral affection,
This never-ending topic the Election.
I don't love politics, or care
A pin for Liberal defection,
Or if the Tories gained in their Election.
Unworthy citizen, perhaps
I need reproof and stern correction,
Indifferent to any chap's Election.
Unless I flew beyond the sea,
I'm certain that in no direction
Could I escape at all from the Election.
For no one writes, and no one speaks,
Of anything but in connection
With some loquacious man who seeks Election.
I try my club; though men may come
And men may go, there's this objection
To all alike—they talk of some Election.
I go to bed; no rest for me,
I'm roused by yells, with shrill inflection
Of "Extry midnight speshul, the Election!"
The papers, taking any side,
Of any party, any section,
One sort of news alike provide—Election.
I'll go to see my love, and kiss
Her pretty face, her sweet complexion,
At least she will not talk of this Election.
"YOU ARE MOST APT TO PLAY THE SIR."
Othello, Act ii., Sc. i.
Friday, July 19, 1895, memorable in annals of British stage as a day set apart for one of the greatest triumphs of the Drama. Sir Henry Irving, fresh from the honours of Royal Windsor, received a further distinction at the hands and hearts of his "brothers and sisters" in that profession for which he has done so much. Squire Bancroft was the eloquent spokesman for the enthusiastic audience of comedians and tragedians which filled the Lyceum; yet before and behind the footlights there was not a suggestion of histrionics. Unlike, too, the great unpaying, who have the dulness of their order, the guests of Friday were remarkable for the tremendous energy of their goodwill. If this theatre had not long been seasoned to the sounds of vociferous cheering, the demonstration might "have brought down the house" literally. Mr. Punch takes this opportunity of joining in the demonstration, and drinks to Sir Henry Irving. May the Knight of the cheerful countenance prosper according to his deserts. And, if that wish is realised, the lessee of the Lyceum will be one of the happiest men on record.
STAMBULOFF.