COURT PHYSICIAN. "Your Grace is mistaken. True, your son lay dead for a month or two, but by a judicious application of four dozen bottles of my "Universal Hair Restorer and Consumption Cure," he has recovered. Here he comes."
DUCHESS. "'Tis he! 'Tis my son, though rather thin about the legs. RENE, I forgive you. Marry the gyurrll if you wish. Bless you, my children." Curtain.
FIRST USHER. "Go round, somebody, and wake the people up. If you don't, they'll sit here and snore all night"
SECOND USHER. "No they won't. They'll wake up, now the play is over."
And the event proves that he is right. Slowly and gapingly the audience arises, strolls sleepily out of the door, and entering wrong stages, is carried to all manner of wrong destinations. So strong is the soporific influence of the Phillipic drama, that not until hours after the play is over, does the average spectator become sufficiently wakeful to express an intelligible regret that Mr. WALLER and Mrs. MOLLENHAUER should not have made their reappearance on the stage in some drama in which they could have had an opportunity to act, and in which the public could have taken some little interest.
MATADOR.
OUR FILTHY LUCRE.
Messrs. BROCKWAY, brewers, have lately been subjected to law process for the impropriety of "cleansing" revenue stamps connected with the ale business, with the view of using them over again.
In one point of view there seems to have been a hardship in the case referred to. Millions of people are daily occupied in dirtying our lovely currency stamps, as well as in "using them over again," and yet nobody has ever been "brought up" for the diabolical act.