lmost invisible thief, the instigator of all the evil and magic. His
patches and rags have grown to symmetrical pattern, his loose doublet
has become this tight-fitting lizard skin of flashing gold and
colours, but his atmosphere recalls the great days.

To these enter 1830--Columbine--an early Victorian lady, who contrives
to look sweetly modest in the shortest and frilliest of skirts; she
looks like a rose, a rose on two pink stalks. She, being so different,
gives the picture just the air of magic incongruity. Once, years ago,
she was dressed in rags like Harlequin, but I suppose that the age of
sentiment clothed her in her ballet costume rather than see her in her
costly tatters.

We are a conservative nation, and we like our own old jokes so much
that we have kept through the ages this extraordinary pleasing
entertainment straight down, clothes and all, from the days of Queen
Elizabeth.

Even as we dream of this, and the harlequinade dazzles our eyes, the
dream changes--a new sound is heard, a sound from the remote past,
too. We listen eagerly, clown, pantaloon, harlequin, and columbine
vanish to the sound of the pan-pipes and the voice of Punch.

'Root-ti-toot, rootity-toot!' There, by the corner of the quiet
square, is a tall box covered with checkered cloth. Above a man's
height is an opening, and on a tiny stage are two figures, one in a
doublet stiffened out like a pea pod, with a ruff hanging loose about
his neck, bands at his wrists, a cap on his head--Punch. The other
with a linen cap and a ruff round her neck--Judy. Below, on the ground
by the gentleman who bangs a drum and blows on the pan-pipes stuck in
his muffler, is a dog with a ruff round his neck--Toby. And we
know--delightful to think of it--that a box hidden by the check
covering, contains many curiously dressed figures--all friends of
ours. The world is certainly curious, and I suppose that an
Elizabethan revisiting us to-day would find but one thing the same,
the humour of the harlequinade and the Punch and Judy show.

Now let us get to the dull part. If you wish to swim in a sea of
allusions there are a number of books into which you may dive--

'Microcynicon.'

'Pleasant Quippes for Upstart Newfangled Gentlewomen.'

Hall's 'Satires.'

Stubbes' 'Anatomie of Abuses.'

'The Cobbler's Prophesie.'

'The Debate between Pride and Lowliness.'

'The Letting of Humours Blood in the Head Vaine.'

'The Wits