"QUITE A LITTLE (ROMAN) HOLIDAY."
(An Intercepted Letter.)
DEAREST BECKY,—I have had such luck! Oh, so fortunate! Fancy, we did get in, after all! You know Mr. TENTERFORE, of Somerset House, has a friend a barrister, and this friend said, if we would be by the door of the Court at eleven, he thought he could slip us in. And he did, my dear—he did! We got capital places, and as we had brought with us some sherry and sandwiches, we had "a real good time of it," as your brother calls it! We had our work, too, and so were quite comfortable. The night-charges were such fun! A lot of men and women were brought before the Magistrate for being "drunk and incapable" (that's a legal term, my dear), and got so chaffed! One of the women was very old—such a silly frump!—she was still dreadfully intoxicated I am afraid! Very sad, of course, but we couldn't help laughing! She was such a figure before they got rid of her! But this was only the overture to the drama. After the night-charges were over, the Court was cleared, but we were allowed to remain, as Mr. WIGINBLOCK (our barrister friend) declared we belonged to the Press! He said that MARY contributed to the Blood and Thunder News, and I to the Murder Gazette! I am sure it must have been in fun, for we have never seen the papers. When lunch was over, in came the Magistrate with a number of the "smartest" people! Really, I was quite delighted to be in such good company. All sorts of nice people. And then—oh—it was lovely! We saw her quite close, and could watch the colour come and go in her cheeks! She is rather pretty! She was wearing her ordinary clothes; not the workhouse, nor the ones with the blood on them, but some that had been sent in to her since the inquest. I tried your opera-glasses. They are simply capital, darling! We were much amused with his evidence; and it was really excellent fun to listen to the howls of the crowd outside! But I am not sure he cared for them! We got away in excellent time, and I hope to go again. I am trying very hard (should it come to anything) to be present at the last scene of all! Wouldn't that be lovely? I should have to be at the place, though, at ten minutes to eight o'clock! I don't think I should go to bed that night at all! If I did, I am sure I should not sleep! It would be so very, very interesting! And now, my dearest, good-bye.
Your ever most affectionate friend,
LUCRETIA.
"MINE EASE AT MY CLUB."—In its most useful and instructive theatrical column last Sunday's Observer (the only Observer of a Sunday in London!) inserted this notice:—
"Mr. H.A. JONES is to read a paper at the Playgoers' Club, Henrietta Street, Tuesday next."
Why announce it? Why not let the hard-worked HENRY AUTHOR JONES read his paper at his Club in peace and quietness? Very hard on poor HENRY DRAMATIC AUTHOR JONES, if he can't have a few minutes of peace (not "piece," bien entendu) to himself. Leave him alone to take his ease at his Club.