me was saved by a proper goose; modern Rome by a proper
gander.

* * * * *

The Sheriff's party tell us that they are always "watch"ful in the
interest of the tax-payers. So they should be, for don't they own the
most "repeaters"?

* * * * *

The Plays and Shows.

HAMLET--WITH A YELLOW WIG.

The poet--his name is of no consequence--has defined the evening as

"The close of the day when the HAMLET is still."

Evidently he was a bucolic, and not a metropolitan poet. Otherwise he
would have remembered that the close of the day, or, to speak with
mathematical accuracy, the hour of eight P.M., is precisely the time
when the HAMLET of a well-regulated theatrical community begins to make
himself vocally prominent. A few nights since, we had no less than three
HAMLETS propounding at the same time the unnecessary question, whether
to be or not to be is the correct thing. The serious HAMLET of the eagle
eye, and the burlesque HAMLET of the vulpine nose, are with us yet; but
the rival of the latter, the HAMLET of the taurine neck, has gone to
Boston, where his wiggish peculiarity will he better appreciated than it
was in this Democratic city.

The late Mr. WEGG prided himself upon being a literary man--with a
wooden leg. Mr. FECHTER aspires to be a HAMLET--with a yellow wig. Mr.
WEGG had this advantage over Mr. FECHTER, that his literary ability did
not wholly depend upon his ligneous leg. Mr. FECHTER'S HAMLET, on the
contrary, owes its existence solely to his wig. The key to his
popularity must he sought in his yellow locks.

There are, it is true, meritorious points in Mr. FECHTER'S Dane. One is
his skill in fencing; another, the fact that he finally suffers himself
to be killed. Unfortunately, this latter redeeming incident takes place
only in the last scene of the play, and the Fat Prince has therefore
abundant previous opportunity to mar the superb acting of Miss LECLERCQ.
Why this admirable artist did not insist that her OPHELIA should receive
a better support than was furnished by Messrs. BANGS, LEVICK, and
FECHTER, at Niblo's Garden, is an insoluble mystery. She must have
perceived the absurdity of drowning herself for a Prince--fair, fat, and
faulty--who refused to give her a share of his "loaf," and denied, with
an evident eye to a possible breach of promise suit, that he had given
her any "bresents."

That Mr. FECHTER speaks English imperfectly