with our hearty approval, and
we earnestly hope to see it put to the excellent use for which it is
designed without further delay. Manager DALY is now offering to his
patrons the new comedy of _Man and Wife_. The old-fashioned play of that
name, which is daily acted everywhere about us, is usually more of a
tragedy than a comedy, but Mr. DALY'S _Man and Wife_ is comedy, farce,
muscular christianity, and paralysis pleasantly mingled together. As
thus:

ACT I.--GEOFFREY DELAMAYN _and his brother are seen conversing in an
arbor. (Don't let the printer imagine that I mean Ann Arbor. It was bad
enough in_ WILKIE COLLINS _to banish his dramatis personae to Scotland;
but he was nevertheless too humane to send them to Michigan_.)

JULIUS DELAMAYN. "GEOFFREY, you really must do something. The unmannerly
people who are just coming into the theatre make such a noise that I
couldn't be heard if I took the trouble to preach to you for an hour, so
I won't attempt to make my meaning any clearer."

GEOFFREY. "I will or I won't, I forget which. However, the audience
can't hear. We've got a pretty good house here to-night I wonder if my
muscles really show to any extent. Here comes LADY LUNDIE and her
friends."

LADY LUNDIE. "I choose everybody to play croquet on my side. The rest
may play on BLANCHE'S side. Miss SYLVESTER, you look as if you could not
stand alone. Therefore I order you to play."

ANNIE SYLVESTER. "Madame, I will. GEOFFREY, meet me here in ten minutes,
or you'll be sorry for it." (Exit everybody. ANNIE and GEOFFREY
returning on tip-toe.)

ANNIE. "You must marry me this afternoon. Meet me at the inn on the
moor."

GEOFFREY. "I won't cross the moor with you. DESDEMONA foolishly crossed
the Moor, and came to grief in consequence. I take warning by her. I
hate you, but I suppose I must marry you, or you'll sell all my letters
to the _Sun_."--(_They go out to be married_.)

ARNOLD _enters and makes love to_ BLANCHE. SIR PATRICK _does the comic
business with_ LEWIS'S _usual humor_. (_What a nice man_ LEWIS _must be
for girls to quarrel with; he "makes up" so nicely--this is a joke_.)
LADY LUNDIE _enters and announces that_ ANNIE _is no longer her
governess, that misguided person having thrown up her situation, for the
irrational reason that it was an interesting one, and having fled in the
silence of the after-dinner hour. Shrieks of horror from the young
ladies, who desist from knocking their croquet-balls into the