ADDIO, ADELINA!
As Madame Patti would have said, if she had thought of quoting Bacon last Tuesday week, and as somebody probably will say after reading this, and then send it, a few months hence, to Mr. Punch as quite new and original, "When my Kuhe comes, call me." And when her Kuhe (English pronunciation) did come, she came up to time and tune, and came up smiling. Of course with such names as Mmes. Patti, Trebelli, Messrs. Lloyd and Santley with Miss Eissler on the violin, Mr. Leo Stern ("Leo the Terrible") on the 'cello (sounds uncomfortable this), Miss Kuhe on the pianoforte (unpleasant position), Mr. Ganz as "accompanyist," (what an ugly word!) and the Great Panjandrum himself, Mr. W. G. Cusins (Sir W. G. Cusins as is to be,—which was our Jubilee Midsummer Knight's Dream) as Conductor, what could the result be, but success? Every seat taken; up gets the Conductor, "Full inside, all right!" and on we goes again! And after this, off goes Madame Patti to America to earn any amount of dollars by singing her well-known répertoire, which, with one or two exceptions, she may leave t'other side of the Atlantic, and return to tell us of "The songs I left behind me," and to chant with feeling "I cannot sing the old Songs." Au plaisir! Adelina, and all good Engels guard thee! I beg to sign myself, re-signing myself to the absence of the Diva,
The Critic on the Harp.
THE FISTIC CRACK, SMITH.
Air—"The Village Blacksmith."
Before the applauding British P.
The fistic crack, Smith, stands,
Jem Smith a mighty man is he,
With smart and smiting hands;