ong) as _Judge Brack_, WEEDON
GROSSMITH as _Ejlbert Loevborg_, Miss LOTTIE VENNE as _Mrs. Hedda
Tesman_, Mrs. JOHN WOOD as _Aunt Juliana_, and Miss JESSIE BOND (with
song and dance) as _Mrs. Elvsted_. It is announced in the bill as
"IBSEN's Last Play." There's a crumb of comfort in this.

* * * * *

QUEER QUERIES.

OATMEAL PORRIDGE.--Would some Scotch housewife kindly enlighten me
as to the proper mode of preparing the above delicacy? I fancy there
must be some mistake about the method I have hitherto adopted. Is it
_really_ necessary to "boil for forty-eight hours, and then mix with
equal quantities of gin, Guinness's Stout, Gum Arabic, and Epsom
Salts?" I have followed this recipe (given me by a young friend, who
says he has often been in Scotland) faithfully, but the result is not
wholly satisfactory. I doubt whether genuine porridge should be of the
consistency of a brick-bat, or taste of hair-oil.--UNDAUNTED.

* * * * *

[Illustration: CLERICAL AESTHETICS.

_Fair Parishioner_. "AND DO YOU LIKE THE PULPIT, MR. AURIOL?"

_The New Curate_. "I DO NOT. ER--IT HIDES TOO MUCH OF THE FIGURE, AND I
LIKE EVERY SHAKE OF THE SURPLICE TO TELL!"]

* * * * *

"BLOOD" V. "BULLION."

"Well then, it now appears you need my help.
Go to then: you come to me, and you say,
'SHYLOCK, we would have moneys'--you say so;
You that did void your rheum upon my beard,
And foot me, as you spurn a stranger cur
Over your threshold: moneys is your suit.
What should I say to you? Should I not say
'Hath a dog money?'"

_Merchant of Venice_, Act I., Scene 3.

"With bated breath and whispering humbleness?"
Not so! There comes a season when the stress
Of insolent and exacting tyranny
Makes the most patient turn.
Autocracy,
Without the despot's vaunted virtue, pride,
Shows small indeed. Can Power lay aside
Its swaggering port, and low petition make
(Driven by those Treasury thirsts which never slake)
For help from those it harries? PHARAOH's scourge
Was the taskmaster's weapon, used to urge
The Hebrew bondsmen to their tale of toil,
But they round whom the Russian's knout thongs coil,
Are of the breed of those the Russian palm
Can make petition to. Could triumph balm
The wounds of ages, here were balm indeed;
But blood revolts.
Race of the cha