Professor Ketch hastily repossessed himself of the
cocoa-nut, and drew forth the skull, in mistake for which he had
exhibited it. A most interesting conversation ensued; but as there
appeared some doubt ultimately whether the skull was Mr. Greenacre's, or
a hospital patient's, or a pauper's, or a man's, or a woman's, or a
monkey's, no particular result was obtained.'

* * * * *

'I cannot,' says our talented correspondent in conclusion, 'I cannot
close my account of these gigantic researches and sublime and noble
triumphs without repeating a _bon mot_ of Professor Woodensconce's, which
shows how the greatest minds may occasionally unbend when truth can be
presented to listening ears, clothed in an attractive and playful form.
I was standing by, when, after a week of feasting and feeding, that
learned gentleman, accompanied by the whole body of wonderful men,
entered the hall yesterday, where a sumptuous dinner was prepared; where
the richest wines sparkled on the board, and fat bucks--propitiatory
sacrifices to learning--sent forth their savoury odours. "Ah!" said
Professor Woodensconce, rubbing his hands, "this is what we meet for;
this is what inspires us; this is what keeps us together, and beckons us
onward; this is the _spread_ of science, and a glorious spread it is."'

THE PANTOMIME OF LIFE

Before we plunge headlong into this paper, let us at once confess to a
fondness for pantomimes--to a gentle sympathy with clowns and
pantaloons--to an unqualified admiration of harlequins and columbines--to
a chaste delight in every action of their brief existence, varied and
many-coloured as those actions are, and inconsistent though they
occasionally be with those rigid and formal rules of propriety which
regulate the proceedings of meaner and less comprehensive minds. We
revel in pantomimes--not because they dazzle one's eyes with tinsel and
gold leaf; not because they present to us, once again, the well-beloved
chalked faces, and goggle eyes of our childhood; not even because, like
Christmas-day, and Twelfth-night, and Shrove-Tuesday, and one's own
birthday, they come to us but once a year;--our attachment is founded on
a graver and a very different reason. A pantomime is to us, a mirror of
life; nay, more, we maintain that it is so to audiences generally,
although they are not aware of it, and that this very circumstance is the
secret cause of their amusement and delight.

L