Chelsea Ghost lives only in
the imagination of the unhappy paragraph-mongers, who have been tempted
to idealise a spirit for the purpose of realising an extra glass of grog
or some "other compound."

* * * * *

TOAST FOR TAVERN LANDLORDS.--The Cricketer, who always runs up a score
by his innings.

* * * * *

OUR TOURIST IN PARIS.--No. 5.

[Illustration: W]

With that spirit of zealous self-sacrifice which becomes his office,
your Correspondent has visited the great masqued ball at the Opera, that
terminates the festivities of the Carnival. He was accompanied by the
rising diplomatist GEORGE ERNEST CLARENCE PROTOCOL, whose filmy white
choker, pink shirt, opal studs, and shining boots were truly an honour
to his country. At one o'clock his Brougham whirled us rapidly to the
theatre. The streets were alive with people. A masqued ball is a fete
for those who can't go as well as for those who can. Riotous groups in
costume were exchanging badinage with the crowd and each other as they
converged to the great point of attraction. Flaring gas-lights
illuminated the street down which we turned out of the Boulevard, and
showed to advantage two bearded and cloaked warriors on horseback, who
looked as if they might be part of the entertainment. More flaring
gas-lights, like a butcher's shop on Saturday night; more picturesque
mounted swordsmen--the Brougham pulls up, and we alight amid the
respectful congratulations of the officials. We mount the stairs in
company of masks, dominoes, and persons in ordinary evening dress, and
pass into the Salle.

The effect is bewildering, overwhelming. The theatre is open to the
uttermost back wall, and, even so, barely holds the multitude of
dancers. The orchestra is probably the noisiest in the world, but is
nothing to the astounding din of the people. No words can describe the
combination of the two. As for the spectacle, several thousand lunatics,
in the violent stage, capering and gesticulating under a strong paroxysm
of their malady, will present a faint picture of it. The madmen are all
costumed, and resent the appearance of a black coat in their terrific
orgies. Probably it reminds them of the medical gentlemen from whom they
have escaped. There is a sprinkling of Greeks, knights, nobles of LOUIS
THE THIRTEENTH, shepherdesses, court ladies, and so forth; but the
prevalent costume of the men is the white and red of a Pi