ONES,--not our
ENERY HAUTHOR, whose contempt for Burlesque generally is as well known
as he can make it,--wrote to Mr. ARTHUR ROBERTS, formerly of the
Music Halls and now of the legitimate Stage, styling him "Governor,"
and professed that he would "fit him to a T." _Poeta nascitur non
"fit_."--and the born burlesque-versifier was true to what would
probably be his comic version of the Latin proverb. But the inimitable
ARTHUR, who does so much for himself on the stage, hardly required any
extraneous help, and at last rejected the result of poor JONES's three
months' hard labour at the Joe-Millery mill. This, however, was no
joke to JONES, who straightway decided that this time he would give
the inimitable ARTHUR something quite new in the way of a jest; and
so, dropping the dialogue, he came to "the action," which, in this
instance, was an action-at-law. Whatever Mr. ROBERTS may have thought
of the words, he will hardly have considered the result of this case
as "good business" from his own private and peculiar point of view.
But all Dramatic Authors,--with the solitary exception of Mr. YARDLEY,
formerly famous in the field, but now better known in "The Lane," at
pantomime time, than to any Court where he has a legal right to appear
in wig and gown,--from the smallest, who write to please a "Governor,"
up to the biggest, who write to please themselves, should rejoice at
the decision in the case of _Jones_ v. _Roberts_.

* * * * *

AN OMISSION AT THE GUILDHALL LUNCHEON.--On the occasion of the Civic
Banquet to the German EMPEROR, an Alderman, distinguished for his
courtesy to strangers, and his appreciation of good dishes, especially
of anything at all spicy, wished to know why, as a compliment to their
Imperial guest, they had omitted "pickelhaubes" from the bill of fare?
He had understood, from well-informed friends, that the EMPEROR seldom
went anywhere without some "pickelhaubes," whatever they might be,
as he himself, the worthy Alderman, had never had the opportunity of
tasting one.

* * * * *

[Illustration: THE RED QUEEN AND THE WHITE; OR, ALICE IN THUNDERLAND.]

* * * * *

JOLLY JULY.

The storm of rain comes swirling down,
Our helpless flow'rets droop and die;
The thunder crashes o'er the town--
In wet July.

Our cricket-match is spoilt, the stumps
We draw beneath a drenching sky;