whole, though kicked and abused, simply
because they are harmless, inoffensive, and weak,
and do not retaliate on the ruffians who
maltreat them, as would any one else, they are
an industrious people who, if they do not
become citizens, yet do not interfere in any way
in politics, and in proportion to their numbers,
give less trouble to the law than any one else,
and are therefore deserving of every encouragement.

SCOTCH SINCERITY.

I SAID, to one who picked me up
Just slipping from a rock,
"I'm not much good at climbing, eh?'
" No, sirr, ye arrrn't," said Jock.

I showed him then a sketch I'd made
Of rough hill-side and loch;
" I'm not an artist, mind," I said:
"No, sirr, ye arrrn't," quoth Jock.

A poem next I read aloud—
One of my num'rous stock;
" I'm no great poet," I remarked:
"No, sirr, ye arrrn't," said Jock.

Alas! I fear I well deserved
(Although it proved a shock),
In answer to each modest sham,
That plain retort from Jock.

TO THE LORD CHAMBERLAIN.

THE REPORTS OF A VOLUNTEER COMMISSIONER.

SIX IN NUMBER.
REPORT THE FIFTH.

TRAVELLING for some distance in a north-
easterly direction, Your Commissioner was
landed at the door of a very large public-
house. The stucco of this building had a
greasy appearance; but the paint of its
doors was worn in a manner suggestive of
much friction, and a number of thirsty
idlers were hanging about before it. The
place looked as little like the entrance of a
theatre as might be, and indeed was merely
the ante- chamber or vestibule to a theatre.
The wicket- gate leading to the temple of
the drama was a little beyond the main
building, and was approached by a dim
court. A narrow passage, not so clean as
it might be, led from the entrance gate
into another court, larger and dimmer
than the first. A platform for dancing—
on which, on this occasion, the rain stood
in pools—occupied this festive space, and,
as well as the eye could make out in the
darkness, it was surrounded by arbours or
boxes for the consumption of refreshment.
Beset by visions of acute rheumatism and
chronic bronchitis, Your Commissioner
hurried over the watery waste, and found
himself in the stalls of the Dramatic Temple
of the Bird of Jove.

It should be observed of the stalls at
this theatre, that they are in every respect
unlike the stalls at the theatres previously
visited. There are not many of them;
they are not reserved; they are cheap;
they are not comfortable. Their occupants
are, likewise, eminently unlike the
occupants of the stalls in the West. In the
West, Your Commissioner, laughing aloud
at the witticisms of the clown, or what
not, was concerned to find at least fifty
elegant persons gazing at him with looks
of surprise, not unmixed with horror. In
the East, suspicious glances are cast upon
him who remains unmoved by what is
passing on the stage, and ominous whispers
may reach him referring darkly to " pride"
and " swells." In the stalls at the West,
the only remark made by an occupant of a
stall, in any way relating to the proceedings
on the stage, which reached Your
Commissioner's ears, proceeded from a
gentleman, young but used up, who occupied
the next seat. This individual was
accompanied by a friend, who might have been
his twin brother. They were both faultlessly
dressed; their white ties were of
precisely the same form and size; the
flowers in their button-holes might have
grown on the same stalk; their shirts were
of the same pattern; each youth's collar
stood up round his neck, and drooped under
his chin, as if the starch had run short, at
precisely the same angles. There was no
difference in the parting of their hair;
their foreheads sloped in unison. All that
these young bucks could find to say, touching
the entertainments in progress, was
said at a critical moment of the pantomime,
when the greater part of the audience was
in a state of hilarity. The remarks were
not otherwise brilliant than as signs of life
in objects apparently inanimate. One used-
up twin said, glancing with a contemptuous
expression at your appreciative Commissioner:
" Doosid stoopid all this;" the
other used-up twin friend replying " Yas,"
the conversation dropped.

In the East, things were different.
Remarks flew about freely all the evening.
They were in general commendatory, but if
any one had a low opinion of what was
being done for his amusement, he had no
hesitation in expressing himself, without
reserve.

The theatre was crowded—so crowded
that when the performance flagged a little
—and it did flag a little sometimes—the
audience struggled a good deal to get more
room. But, when matters mended on the
stage, or when the symphony of a popular
song was struck up, the public, after a
cry of expectant joy, settled down in strict