There is an amount of seven guineas paid for a violet gown for the
LORD MAYOR. In another instance there is an item of L17 for the LORD
MAYOR'S silk violet gown. On the occasion of the DUKE OF
WELLINGTON'S funeral, there is a sum of L72 for the LORD MAYOR'S
silk gown."

We cannot pretend to understand either the necessity for such an
extensive stock of gowns as the LORD MAYOR seems to possess, or for such
a frightful fluctuation in the price of one and the same article. We
know of no system of arithmetic or rule of three by which we are to get
a solution of the question: "If a LORD MAYOR'S gown cost L7 at one time,
and L17 at another time, why is it to cost L72 at a subsequent period?"
We can only say that _as_ L7 _is not to_ L17, _so cannot be_ L72 by any
rule or principle whatever.

* * * * *

THE CLEVER CLOWN NUISANCE.

[Illustration]

Some very pleasing horsemanship at Drury Lane is being marred by some
very obnoxious assmanship on the part of sundry clowns engaged, we
suppose, for the purpose of marking the contrast between the stupidity
of bipeds, and the sagacity of quadrupeds. We have no objection to the
old Astleyan Clown, who is continually wanting to know what he shall "go
for to fetch for to bring for to carry," but we must protest against the
modern school of buffoons who, under the ambitious title of "SHAKSPERIAN
jesters," or some other pseudonyme, inflict their dull platitudes on an
impatient audience. Directly a clown becomes too fat to tumble, or too
stupid to play the fool in the ordinary way, he adopts the name of
"SHAKSPERIAN" and bores the public with long lectures, which he fancies
may be received as instructive, because they happen to be the very
opposite of entertaining--just as if a man ceasing to be an amusing
fool must of necessity become a philosopher.

The "clown to the ring" is, in fact, becoming a perfect nuisance: and we
only wonder that the horses do not become low-spirited by contrast with
those dreadfully dull dogs who wear the motley. It would be quite
refreshing to meet with a good old conventional clown of former times,
who would not be above asking WIDDICOMB "if his (WIDDICOMB'S) mother is
aware of his (WIDDICOMB'S) absence from home;" or making any other of
those rare old imbecile remarks which used to set us in a roar in our
days of infancy. A philosophic clown to the ring is, in fact, an
anomaly; for every one admits the idle