and decorous silence. The cracking of
nuts, like minute guns at sea, alone
interrupted the proceedings. The amount
of nuts consumed, was amazing. It
appeared as if this refreshment had peculiar
charms for the frequenters of the Bird, for
every man, woman, and child, seemed to
consider a pocketful of Barcelonas quite
indispensable. Possibly the dry nature of
these provisions was intended as a whet, or
relish, to the more genial entertainment
presented on the stage. The pantomime
might not be called a good one, but was
presented with care, and perfect propriety,
and nothing in it of an offensive nature
could be pointed out by the most captious
critic. A most excellent and humorous
gymnastic pantomimist, the delight of his
audience, is the mainstay of this house,
and has probably no superior in his own
line.

The pantomime was a long one, and
when Your Commissioner emerged from the
theatre, he found the dreary space he had
crossed before, occupied by promenaders
regardless of damp. They were about
to dance: not, however, on the sloppy
boards, but in a large room adjoining:
to which an extra charge for admission
was made, and which appeared to fill well.
An individual with a weighing machine
had planted himself in a dry spot in the
centre of the wet platform and implored
the public in piteous accents to try their
weights an invitation responded to by
none. Possibly the individual thought that
some one might be curious to know how
much weight he had lost in the theatre,
where the heat was extreme.

Your Commissioner next visited
Shoreditch. It is his deliberate opinion that
Shoreditch on a damp night is not a
pleasing thoroughfare. He found in it,
much mud, many public- houses, several
tripe shops, and a few " penny gaffs."
Cheap tailors have laid violent hands on
a large number of the houses in this very
unpleasant neighbourhood, and, from
behind acres of plate glass, offer amazing
garments at surprising prices. Here, the
proprietors of baked-potato cans are not as
their brethren in other parts of London,
forasmuch as it is the fashion for a Shoreditch
potato-can to be decorated and illumined
by three enormous lamps, of the shape, and
nearly of the size, of the ordinary street
lamp. Probably the pie and potato
interests here find it impossible to compete
with the fried fish and other cooked provision
shops, which abound, without going in
for splendour and paraffine. A considerable
number of the native population do
not appear imbued with the fine arts, to the
extent of having their manners softened; or
themselves prevented from becoming
ferocious. Pugilists' public-houses are
numerous. Gentlemen who are occasionally
to be seen flying from race-courses,
bleeding, half torn to pieces, and pursued by
unpaid backers of horses, have their Welch
fastnesses not far from the Great Eastern
Railway Station. Cheap photographers
swarm. Everything for sale is ticketed. All
sorts of articles of dress, ornament, and
refreshment, are displayed on barrows along
the margin of the pavement, and hoarse
cries of vendors rend the air.

Pursuing his way among these surroundings
on a very wet evening, Your
Commissioner looked forward with an evil eye
to the theatre he was about to visit. He
pictured it to himself as a squalid, dirty,
inconvenient house; where the audience would
be wretched and the performance worse;
where the arrangements would be bad, and
the ventilation nil. He had serious thoughts
of giving it up and turning back. Duty,
however, nailed his colours to the mast, and
virtue was rewarded.

Large convenient approaches from Shoreditch
lead, by lobbies equally convenient,
into one of the finest and largest theatres
in London. Handsome in shape, thoughtful
in arrangement, excellently conducted,
this theatre is a model place of public
entertainment. From every part of it, an
excellent view of the stage can be had; the
comfort of the audience is well cared for;
there is everywhere ample space, and to
spare, and the ventilation is perfect. There
is an enormous pit, divided into two classes;
there are large galleries, here called upper
and lower circles; there is an elegant and
comfortable balcony, corresponding to a
West-end dress circle; and there is a
sufficiency of private boxes all round the house.
It is really a surprising theatre. If it could
be taken up bodily and set down in the
Strand, it would mightily astonish the play-
goers of the West. It was nearly full on the
night of Your Commissioner's visit; not
quite full, but this is not surprising when
it is considered that it can seat five
thousand three hundred persons, and that
there is, besides, standing room for many
more. The audience were very quiet and
appreciative, and the pantomime afforded
extreme delight. It was liberally and
judiciously put upon the stage, and, in
accordance with the general custom, abounded in
princes and in ballet. Your Commissioner
is unable to report that he has any fault