By no means. At least, not at the Princess's Theatre: there, the whole management is a management of pegs. What is poor Byron made of, but a peg—a mere peg—whereon to hang the fine clothes of a Sardanapalus? Plays, as mere plays, are not to be thought of; but pegs—pegs that will hold any number of fine suits, any weight of canvas. In fact, the peg is the play.
To return to the bonnet peg, it may be advisable for good housewives—visiting the Princess's—to follow the advice of Miss Martineau to travellers. She says: Fail not to take a few gimblets; they serve on board ship admirably for pegs. Perhaps the manager of the Princess's will make it known in future bills whether ladies with bonnets visiting his theatre may be permitted to bring their own gimblets.
A Devouring Flame.
Three removes, it is said, are as bad as a fire; but a fire is not so bad as an extravagant woman, by many removes. The one simply burns you out of house, but the other, if she is your wife, burns you out of both house and home; and then again, you may put out the former, but, as long as you have a place to live in, you have no chance of putting out the latter.
AWFUL CALAMITY IN BASS'S BREWERY.
Last week ten thousand barrels of ale—(just advanced 6s. per barrel)—in Bass's brewery were turned sour by the thunder of—the Times.
Scandal-mongers should take timely warning from the Chinese Rebellion, before the same law is enforced in England as in China; the summary punishment being instantly inflicted on every person who is convicted of being a tale-bearer.