*

THE KISS.

(_By a Jubilant Juryman._)

[Kissing the Book is now to be dispensed with as part
of a Juryman's duties.]

LIP to lip is pleasant altogether,
But there is no charm in lip to leather
All the bards who've sung of osculation,
Down from OVID to song's last sensation,
Could not lend romance, or even sense,
To the Court's poor labial pretence,
Always meaningless, and most unpleasant.
Here the past _is_ bettered by the present.
Kissing is the due of Love and Beauty,
Dull and dismal when 'tis made mere duty.
Mere lip-loyalty to Love means little--
But to Truth? 'Tis not worth jot or tittle!
When from lip to lip in cold formality
Passed the grubby cover, in reality
Binding kissing made no oath more binding
Nor more easy Justice's clear finding.
Therefore, thanks to common sense,--long missing--
That makes obsolete _one_ form of kissing!

* * * * *

"THERE AND BACK."

FIRST night at Covent Garden of new Opera, _Irmengarda_, by Chevalier,
not Chevalier Coster, but Chevalier EMIL BACH. In this plot the women of
a besieged city are allowed to leave it, carrying whatever is most
precious on their backs--but this one BACH can't carry _Irmengarda_,
which is, however, not too, too precious, but is supportable. Sir
DRURIOLANUS OPERATICUS "gives a Back," and it's "Over!" First Act, while
performing, is promising; second very much after, or behind the first.
House full. Everybody good, specially VALDA and ABRAMOFF. Mr. ARMBRUSTER
conducted the MASCAGNI-_cum_-WAGNER-&-CO. music. Everybody happy,
specially BACH himself, who was not backwards in coming forwards, and
bowing his acknowledgments.

By the way, as in Act III. the King enters "a-riding a-riding," this
Opera may be distinguished from any of BACH'S future works by being
called The Horse-BACH Opera. Not to exhaust the punning possibilities in
the name of the composer, it may be incidentally noted that, original
and fresh as every air in this Opera may be, yet this present work
consists entirely of "BACH Numbers." No more on this subject at present.

Last week of Opera by night at Covent Garden, as the Garden is turned
into a Race-course for _The Prodigal Daughter's_ steeplechase, and Drury
Lane is wanted for the Pantomime. Sir DRURIOLANUS has his hands
full--likewise his pockets. "So mote it be!"

* * * * *