provokingly like the "Bay of Biscay," and so irritatingly dissimilar rently, he rather likes it. It seems to suggest something else to afterwards, that the Dean, in sheer despair, throws himself back him. (N.B., notice, generally, that everything "suggests something on a sofa and groans. HAILSHER smiles dubiously at a soda-water else" to a Composer.) But, at all events, one thing it does suggest bottle, as though he were revolving a problem as to how he could is that he should ask the Dean, "Do you sing this ?" probably throw it at the Composer's head without infringing the ordinary expecting the Dean to reply, "No; that he had only brought rules of politeness, or chuck it in such a manner that CULLINS it for the Composer to try.' should, on the whole, consider it rather as a compliment than otherwise, and be, if possible, on terms of more enduring friendship with our courtly host than ever. HAILSHER, however, adopts a far better method. Directly the nautical-impostor-ballad is finished, he at once tenders his (HAILSHER'S) best thanks to the Composer for his performance-we allow him to be accepted as spokesman for our sentiments, which we keep to ourselves-and with the sweetest smile and the most deferential manner that a pupil, sitting at the feet of a Master-Mind, could possibly assume, begs him to play "that little thing of his" (the Composer's) own, of which he (HAILSHER) is so desperately fond, but the name of which at this moment, curiously enough, escapes his memory. On being asked by the Composer (who, of course, can't be expected to remember such a trifle out of the two thousand and any number of flashes of genius that are constantly occurring to him), "to give him some idea of how it went, how it began, or something like the motive," HAILSHER is unable to do more than make a subdued humming noise with his lips closed, which reminds me of a ventriloquist giving his well-known popular imitation of a bee in a bottle, and certainly does not assist his own recollection, as he gives up that method of recalling it to the Composer's mind, and substitutes a plan which, I believe, forms the basis of Mr. STOKES'S celebrated artificial memory, of trying to associate the lost tune with an event, a name, a place, or a person. "Don't you remember," HAILSHER slowly begins, still with a deeply pained and puzzled expression of countenance, addressing the Composer, as if he were commencing the song of "Sweet Alice, Ben Bolt." Don't you remember your singing it at Lady SCRUMPSHER'S ?" "What particular evening at the SCRUMPSHERS?" asks the Composer, resolving chords with his left hand as he half turns towards HAILSHER, "because I go there so often "-which rudely seems to imply that his host doesn't,-not because he won't, but because he hasn't been asked. 66 "I know you do," returns HAILSHER, meekly, with the air of a man who reads the Court Circular regularly, and of course is well up in the movements of so distinguished a public character as the Composer. "I know you do," he repeats. But I mean that night when Prince-dear me-Prince "-and again his memory fails himso annoying"Oh-yes-yes"the Composer says, resolving another chord. "Yes," replies HAILSHER, brightening up a little, and apparently as satisfied as if CULLINS had mentioned the name-" and Count the Austrian, you know 66 But no such luck. Does the Dean sing it? Doesn't he, rather! Hasn't he got the Composer in his toils for once? Won't he now repay him tenfold for the Composer's rude remarks about his shooting, or about his appetite, or about any other subject on which the Dean may happen to be a little tender ? The Composer, temporarily subdued, sits down to accompany this song; and the Dean, opening his chest, begins the serenade in a voice that fetches the Invisible Captain out of his berth, that makes all hands rush up on deck, and utterly drowns the Composer's piano accompaniment. There are five verses, and he won't let the Composer off. He urges him on by raising disputes as to what the composer of the song exactly meant in the following verse-which thereupon he sings, and his victim is forced to follow him. Then he appeals to CULLINS's cultivated taste and operatic experience as to "how" the two lines in the next verse should be given and CULLINS, a bit flattered, but really struggling to get away, finds himself playing that too. And having got so far, of course CULLINS goes on to the end-then rising hurriedly, says "Yes -a very good song, but it hardly suits your voice ". and dashes up the companion, when we fully expect to hear a wild, agonising shriek, a flop in the sea, and then a cry from the night-watch of "Man overboard!"-but it's all right, he is aft, wrapped in an ulster, silent, collapsed, and trying to revive himself with the soothing pipe. Happy Thought.-Piping his bird's eye. There are other musical evenings on board the Amarintha, but this does not occur again. So I note it, for it is a memorable night in Loch Ryan-our last night here-for to-morrow we are actually away. "Far, far upon the sea, The good ship is bounding free," I sing to the Composer, quoting HENRY RUSSELL'S popular old song, as we turn in. "I 666 Bounding free,'" grumbles the Composer from his berth. hope it won't. There's a deuce of a breeze getting up outside. However it will be better than stopping here doing nothing, except But the Dean doesn't catch me again," he murmurs, as he turns over on his side with his face to the wall. When I say, lightly and pleasantly, "turn in," meaning thereby my getting into my berth, I convey an inadequate notion of the difficulty. Getting into a berth is putting yourself away on a shelf— like a standard work in a library, but the standard work has the advantage of being carried up by somebody and carefully deposited there. But the process of mounting into the best of berths is not easy. First I get on the sofa below and examine the bearings. I see two little brass fastenings. If these are undone won't the bedclothes all Oh yes-old- -" and the name is lost in another chord, as the come out, or can I fasten them up when I'm once in and remain in Composer turns full round to the piano again, and suddenly glides an unrumpled nest? After grave deliberation I decide against into a melodious warble, which in less than two seconds HAILSHER undoing the fastenings, and upon taking the extra three inches step up recognises with joy, and nods triumphantly to us-to me on one which this entails. In doing so I find, that while elevating my right sofa, and to the Dean on another as much as to say-"There, you leg,-putting, that is, my best leg foremost,-before giving myself, as see, I've caught him-he's at it-I've turned him on, and now it were, a leg up," my left foot treads firmly on the border of my you'll hear something very much to your advantage." At all events classic robe,-[Night Happy Thought.-"I am more an antique we are all pleased that the Composer's private and peculiar version Roman"-in my undress.]-and my right leg, being quite unconof celebrated nautical songs is shelved for the present, while HAIL-scious of what the left leg is doing, gives a heave up on its own SHER lights a pipe, fills himself a glass of soda-and-brandy, politely account, when cr-r-r-ack goes the drapery that JULIUS CÆSAR and considerately stifling the pop in a corner, and then appears might have worn without frightening CALPHURNIA. absorbed in the performance, to which he had led up with such con 66 summate tact. It is a very good song, and very well sung-"Jolly companions, &c., &c." Once started, CULLINS gives us more 66 where that came from,"-i.e., his own head. Thus passes one musical evening-there are others to come, duly noted in my log; and the Composer, having exhausted his goodnature with the effort, rises abruptly-Genius is often abrupt[Happy Thought-Write an Essay on the Peculiar Manners of Geniuses-specially Musical Geniuses-declares "he won't play any more "—like a boy who fancies himself cheated or unfairly treated at some game-and is leaving the piano open, as much as to hint to us that we can go on if we like, and see what we make of it," with a sort of " après moi le déluge" sniff and toss of the head, when the Dean, who has been rousing himself gradually, and who has got into a sitting position reading what we thought up to now was an old number of the Pall Mall Gazette, but which turns out to be a piece of music, asks the Composer, in a very diffident manner, if he is acquainted with " My Fair One, my Fond One," words by Oh yes," answered the Composer, "Why ?" And then, in trying to imitate HAILSHER'S habitual politeness, which is unnatural to CULLINS, he falls into the hopeless mistake of inquiring "if what the Dean has there is the song in question ?" Of course it is. The Dean is up on his legs in an instant. So is HAILSHER. So am I. The Composer-weak again-the momentary weakness of Genius Happy Thought.-Classic and SHAKSPEARE. "See what a rent the envious Casca made.' I am the Casca-being envious of the Composer's slumbers. He is fast asleep. Not even the tearing of the classic robe has aroused him. He has fallen asleep as suddenly as people do on the stage, in a melodrama, when something awful's going to happen. Something awful has happened-something awfully uncomfortable at least to me-but I roll myself up in my berth, and then come my a Night Thoughts.-Will he snore? He appears a little restless. Perhaps this is always the case with No-I'll think :-We sail to-morrow-hooray!-glad when we're It is the Composer addressing me!! ENGLAND AND FRANCE (inter alia).-Free Ports and free Clarets. has placed it on the music-stand, and is actually trying it! Appa- "Open Docks whoever knocks!" LT TO CORRESPONDENTS.-The Elitor does not hold hinse'f bound to acknowledge, return, or pan for Contributions. In no case can these be returned unless accompanied by a stamped and directed envelope. Copies shold be kept SIGNS OF THE SEASON. THE partridges are falling fast, and the leaves have just begun The birds have bolted that bear the name of St. Patrick's doughty The flying pickaxes have flown; not a Swift is to be seen. And the citizens of London meet to choose the next Lord Mayor. Oh, the transitory tenure of his Lordship's pomp and power! But that's the Concrete Lord Mayor; for the Abstract Lord Mayor blows, Perennial as an amaranth, or an everlasting rose, In a metaphysical Mansion House where intrinsic turtle steams, AT THE OLYMPIC.-An appropriate song for a Lady with such a name as "MARION HOOD" would have been "Never again with you, Robin." It can be repaired when Lord Bateman comes out at the Opéra Comique, and Patience on a Monument goes to Mr. D. CARTE's New Theatre, The Saveloy. VOL. LXXXI. AN AUTUMN VALENTINE. FORESTS are fair when the suns of September Wane, and the gloaming grows deeper in gloom; Sunsets are red as the rosiest ember, Seen when the lamps are alight in the room. You too, carina, like leaves in October, Change with the season to startle the town; Quakerlike colour, seductively sober, Shows a blonde beauty looks bravest in brown. Fitting it is too, at time like the present, When in the covers the sharp shots are heard, That the adornments you filch from the pheasant, Serve to remind me you're fair as that bird. What though my shooting my friends voted splendid, Though Land and Water has echoed my fame, You give one glance, and my short flight is ended, You have an eye has a deadlier aim. Sometimes the softest of possible serges Drapes you, and seems the one thing you should wear, While from the neck of the bodice emerges Daisy-like frills that are fatally fair. I am not learned in seam and in gusset, Once at Lawn-Tennis the tints of the sunset Yet what avails this my list of your dresses, He has no notion in which you look best. No matter what freak of fashion you follow, How frills and flounces and furbelows fall, One thing is clear, you beat other girls hollow, And as to dresses-look best in them all! THE LITERARY "INTERNATIONAL." MONDAY.-General assemblage of all the Delegates. Unanimity indescribable. Interesting paper on Rights of Chinese Dramatic Authors in Siberia. Discussion. Business done :-Inkstand at President's head. Capital dinner at the Something Hof. σε Tuesday-Highly practical day. Question before the Congress: burial at the hands of Humanity ?" Argument protracted. BusiOught Magazine-writers to wear revolvers, and receive public ness done:-Three Bulgarian Novelists put by acclamation under the pump. Excellent banquet at the Something Garten. "In the opinion of this Congress, Black-Eyed Susan is an unblushing Wednesday.-Most interesting sitting. On Motion being put that, adaptation of an unpopular Russian farce," President was carried unanimously to the window and thrown out. Business done :-His head broken. Very pleasant little entertainment at the Graf von Somebody's later. Thursday." American Copyright" question on this morning. Bowie-knives and six-shooters used freely among the reporters. Some excitement, ending in a Fiji poet running a rather nasty and unexpected muck among the Entertainment Committee. Business done-Military called out. Delightful dinner at Burgomaster's. 66 Friday.-Question for discussion this morning: Ought unsuccessful Dramatic Authors to receive £500 a year, a decoration, a public statue, and their cab-hire from their respective States ?" Animated meeting. Business done :-Vice-President of Economic Section lynched. Excellent dinner at a Something Haus. Saturday. Exciting day.. Question before Congress-" The Theoretical Rights of Publishers in the Caucasus." Capital speech by a Patagonian penny-a-liner. Unanimity indescribable. Chairman of General Business Committee and Presidents of Representative Sections suddenly blown up by dynamite. Business done:-The roof off, and a state of siege declared. Adjourned subsequently to Railway Station in disguise, with head bandaged. Nice little dinner, in a false nose, with Professor Von Something at buffet before train starts. Off for home-tolerably well, with one eye. A thoroughly delightful and entertaining week. |