"
Prig, all her life is a snare,
You, so excessively good,
Would pity her rather if there
Once for ten hours you stood.
How would you feel at the end?
You may not think she is fit,
Quite, for your sister's friend--
Is she too wicked to sit?
Stand stand, stand!
In the smoke of pipe and cigar,
Always to think of eternal drink;
Oh, pity the Slave of the Bar!
* * * * *
BY A RIBBON GIRL WHO HAS BEEN TO FRANCE.--"Sure the town itself must
be full of go-a-head young women that a decent female wouldn't be seen
spaking to--else why is it called _Belle-Fast_?"
* * * * *
THE OPERA IN THE FUTURE.
(_AS SUGGESTED BY "MUSICAL PAUPERS."_)
SCENE--_Interior of Covent Garden on a Subscription Night.
The house is filled in the parts reserved for Subscribers. The
remainder of the Auditorium is less crowded. The Overture is
over, when there is a loud cry for the Manager. Enter before
the Curtain Courteous Gentleman, who bows, and waits in an
attitude of respectful attention._
_Person in the Amphitheatre._ I say, Mister, look 'ere, after charging
me sixpence for a seat, I'm 'anged if they don't want an extra penny
for a bill of the play.
_Courteous Gentleman.
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