ch the prompter administered to her before she came on exploded
at the wrong time, and thus impaired the general effect of an
otherwise fine performance."

One advantage _Mr. Punch_ perceives, will certainly result from the
vigorous prosecution of M. HALEVY'S idea. It is that, whereas our
climate has hitherto been the bane, it will henceforth prove the
antidote of foreign singers. They will flock here in crowds to perfect
their education, nor will they be deterred from coming by a fear of
overstocking the market, as they will always feel sure that there is
plenty of rheum for them in England. And even MR. SIMS REEVES, when
afflicted by the recurrence of his apparently hereditary cold, need no
longer disappoint the audience by withdrawing from them altogether, and
may favour them with "My lodging is on the cold ground" (a song which
will naturally afford great scope for a display of the new ornaments),
or with "We'll sound the gay Catarrh."

* * * * *

OBSTRUCTING THE PAVEMENT.

A poor applewoman is not allowed to loiter on the pavement. The
lithographic artist, who draws the reddest salmon and setting suns on
the flagstones, is instantly told by the policeman to "walk his chalks."
The broken-down tradesman, with his white neckcloth, and black gloves
with the fingers peeping out of the tips, is not allowed to lean against
a door-post, and offer, in a melancholy attitude, his lucifer-matches
for sale. The same rigour is exercised towards the hundred-bladed Jew
boy, the barefooted girl with her bunch of violets, and the grinning
Italian with his organ. Not one of them is allowed to monopolise the
pavement, but is immediately commanded by the ferocious policeman to
"move on." But there is a class of persons who are permitted to remain
still, where a child who is crying her apples "three a penny" is not
allowed even to loiter. This class of persons is not the most reputable
class to come in contact with, nor the pleasantest even to look at. It
is the betting class. Pass a betting-shop when you will, you are sure to
find an immense crowd collected outside it.

There is no knowing what they talk about--and we have not the slightest
wish to increase our knowledge--but there they will stand for hours,
running in and out of the shop, in the most feverish state, exchanging
memoranda in half-whispers, and dotting down incomprehensible figures in
little clasp-books, which they hold up clos