St. George and the Dragon; who, in the
succeeding lines, tells us how shareholders may be
protected from bank disasters in the future.
He says:

From such responsibility I hope we now shall see,
The result of limited liability will set shareholders
   free.

This author, Mr. Cheatham, evidently in his
secret soul despises punning, and seems disposed
to rebuke it, as may be gathered from the
following colloquy:

FEEFOFI. He grieves because his youngest born
is dead,
And all his father's feelings in his eyes are read,
For they are red with crying.

SABRA.                On the moment's spur,
He makes a pun of read, and terms it red {Oh cur!
                                                                   (ochre!

I notice that the good fairies are generally the
persons entrusted with the review of things in
general. Benevolenta, St. George's good fairy,
is grieved to learn

America still keeps up her civil strife,
Reckless of the wanton sacrifice of life.
Abe Lincoln, too, as was generally expected,
Has, by a large majority, as president been re-
elected.
Let's hope he'll adopt some more pacific plan,
And prove to be a wiser, if not a sadder man.

Let's hope so, indeed. And I am sure every
right-minded person will cordially join in the
hopes which are expressed in what follows:

Some large commercial failures too there's been,
The worst of which I hope tho' we have seen,
For, at this festive season of the year,
Folks rather want their pudding, beef, and beer.

There are many things in this pantomime,
which, as I read, cause me to regret that I did
not see the performance. I am sure I should
have greatly enjoyed a break-down dance by the
whole of the Seven Champions of Christendom.
It is St. George who says before they begin:

                    That's right; I am for life and bustle.
So you who are for fighting, walk round and show
         your muscle.

The new Standard pantomime of "Dame Durden,"
the author of which modestly conceals his
name, opens with the usual difficulty as to the
choice of a subject for a pantomime. Professor
Anderson and the Davenport Brothers enter,
and there is some talk respecting them between
two characters whose names, not mentioned in
the list of the dramatis personae, are abbreviated
into " Chr." and " Hol." Says " Chr.":

Professor Anderson and the Davenport Brothers.
HOL. They can't the ghost of pantomime raise.
We want the reality, not the manifestation days.
Hallo there! what subject have you hit on?

"Chr.'s" answer to this seems to be rather
irrelevant:

I suppose they've been to boarding-school at Brighton.

"They" is a very vague word here; but evidently
somebody hasn't been to boarding-school
at Brighton. As regards moral lessons, and
deliverances on public affairs, this anonymous
author plunges in medias res. The first lively
subject that employs his pointed pen is the
American war. Some future Macaulay may
write a passage in history by the light of the
following lines. It is America who speaks:

From Southern port I've issued forth,
You don't know me, and make that admission,
Peace would have come if we'd had recognition.
Yet the time will come when, hand in hand,
The South shall have a voice in ruling her land,
Come, Britannia, own you are to blame,
Let recognition come soon to save new-numbered
slain.

Britannia, as if she had taken her cue from
Earl Russell, artfully avoids reply by changing
the subject and the scene. Punning is pursued
with great subtlety and elaboration at the
Standard, as you may judge by Dame Durden's
injunctions to her sons:

Come, get to work; how's the time? Why it's ten,
        I declare.
Bobby, if you don't work in work-hours, you'll go to
        the workhouse.

I wonder if the Standard author had been peeping
over the shoulder of the Drury Lane author?
Will says, "This is my phiz;" to which the king
replies:

Physically speaking, and a strong one too.
Where's my child, the princess? Atchew (sneezes).

The author's Southern proclivities are strong.
He makes Bob say

I'll join the crew of a Federal man-of-war,
One of those brave chaps who are not of the fighting
       sort,
And capture vessels by treachery in a neutral port.
They boast the captured Florida, the forfeit of the
       hour,
Because they knew the neutral port belonged to a
       weaker power.

Let me recommend this succinct manner of
putting the case to the notice of members of
parliament. Some of them, I have no doubt,
will one of these days fill a column with the
statement which the pantomime poet has
expressed in two lines.

From the New Standard Theatre in
Shoreditch to Her Majesty's Theatre in the
Haymarket. In looking through the pantomime of
the "Lion and the Unicorn," I miss altogether
the earnestness of purpose which distinguishes
the pantomimes of the East. There is only one
sentimental passage. Have I heard something
like it before, or did I dream it?

A hero? Just so. He who takes a spoon
Or pocket-handkerchief, poor luckless coon,
Is but a wretched thief whom people spurn;
But those who slaughter crowds, destroy and burn,
Who rob wholesale, and decimate a town,
Are heroes worthy homage and renown.

This style of irony so minces the matter, that
the East would reject it with scorn. You must
hit out straightforward blows from the left
shoulder in Whitechapel. Let us see how the
puns are polished up for the aristocratic
frequenters of Her Majesty's? The Princess sighs
for a husband: