The Recent Prize-Fight.—What the French thought of it: an In-Seine proceeding.
OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
I have just come across something on Modern Wiggism in the shape of an amusing advertising book on the Wigs supplied to leading actors by the theatrical perruquier Fox. "Nothing like leather," said the tanner; and judging from the collection of illustrations and notices, it is, in Mr. Fox's opinion, more what is outside the head than what is in it, that insures success on the Stage. The perruquier makes the wig, and the wig makes the actor. There are portraits of various theatrical celebrities, including one or two of Mr. Toole, in various wigs, whose presentments in these pages may entitle the work to be called Fox's Book of Martyrs—willing martyrs, of course, and many of them after they've strutted and fretted for several hours on the stage, quite ready to go cheerfully to "The Steak."
Mr. Frederick Barnard's Character Sketches from Dickens have been republished. They are the work of a true artist; but he should have left Mr. Pickwick alone. Who cares for an artistic Mr. Pickwick? No; let him ever remain the burlesque eccentricity invented by Mr. Seymour, and founded on Dickens's creation. But Mr. Barnard's Mrs. Gamp and Bill Sikes are both quite truly Dickensonian. Baron de Book Worms.