larly free from affectation, and, while we are at one moment
rapt in wonder at her chaste and vigorous description of the annoyances
of a female in the autumn of life, training up a large family in the
limited accommodations afforded by a common shoe, we cannot but feel a
twinge of compassion for the singular Mrs. HUBBARD and her lovely dog,
who "had none," only to have those tears chased away by the arch and
guileless portrayal of the eccentric JOHN HORNER.

That we cannot to-day gaze upon the classic lineaments of her who welded
such a facile pen, is a source of the most poignant regret. It is a
crying shame, for I think I am correct when I say that there does not
exist on the civilized globe a statue of this peerless woman, but she
will always live as long as there are infant minds to form, or tender
recollections of childhood to remember.

P.S.--I forgot to say that I hold a copyright of old GRANNY GOOSE'S
works. I have just got it renewed, and it is as vigorous as a
kicking-mule. Send in your orders. Contributions to the old gal's statue
will be duly acknowledged, and deposited with my tailor.

* * * * *

THE PLAYS AND SHOWS.

JANAUSCHEK is a Bohemian, and with the Bohemian propensity for picking
up things, has picked up the English language. The public is somewhat
divided in its estimate of her skill in speaking English. One-half of
her average audience insists that she speaks better English than
nine-tenths of our native actresses: the other half asserts that she is
at times nearly unintelligible. Neither of these statements necessarily
contradicting the other, they might both be easily true. The fact is,
however, that she speaks English like a foreigner. Mud itself--or a Sun
editorial--could not be plainer than this definition of her exact
proficiency in our unmelodious tongue.

If we go to see her play "Lady Macbeth," we meet evidences at every step
of her want of familiarity with English, or at all events with American
customs. We find her playing at the ACADEMY, and we at once remark that
no one but an unnecessarily foreign actress would dare to awaken the
sepulchral echoes of that dismal tomb. We find, too, that at the very
threshold of the house she defies the one of the most time-honored
institutions of our stage, by employing a pleasant and courteous
door-keeper--instead of the snarling Cerberus who lies in wait at the
doors of other theatres. We find again that she ou