SIR,--Strange as it may appear to you, Sir, as a London playgoer, I had
never seen _The Two Roses_ till last night. How this "celebrated comedy"
ever acquired its celebrity is, I confess, beyond me, for the plot is
poor, and in the dialogue there is nothing quotable, though the phrase,
"a little cheque," forces itself on one's memory by frequent iteration.
You, Sir, saw it with its original cast, and I take it that a play of
this sort requires certain surroundings to insure its immediate success,
just as a rich joke, when deprived of its original accidental
accessories, is found to be a very poor joke, or no joke at all. This
play by Mr. ALBERY I should have thought would have been, as Dr. SAMUEL
JOHNSON might have said, Al-bery'd and forgotten long ago. Yet it
lives,--at all events, it has been revived.
A Manager does not revive a piece which was not originally produced at
his theatre without some pretty good reason for so doing. He must, at
least, be fairly confident of its attractive powers as, at all events, a
remunerative stop-gap; and I am informed that this piece has been
revived, once before, by Mr. HENRY IRVING at the Lyceum. This is ancient
history to you, Sir. After the revival, and the unwonted exercise of a
long run (did it have a long run?), I should have supposed that there
could not have been much life left in it. Yet apparently there is. The
acting is, on the whole, good, and some of it very good. WILLIAM FARREN,
one of the best of English players, makes all that is to be made (as it
seems to me, who did not see Mr. IRVING) out of _Digby Grand_, Mr.
GIDDENS is an excellent blind _Caleb_ (a very clever actor must be Mr.
GIDDENS), and Mr. DAVID JAMES simply is "Our Mr. JENKINS." MAUDE MILLETT
is pretty and graceful, and the whole entertainment entertaining. But
still, how it ever became a celebrated comedy--
"Well, that I cannot tell," said he,
"But _t'was_ a famous Comedy."
And by crammed houses it is, I hear, being fully appreciated. Indeed, I
should only say, judging by this Criterion on the night I was present,
it is in for another long run. Yours, LITTLE PETERKIN.
* * * * *
SHAKSPEARE UP AGAIN.--A Baconian writes to ask if there isn't sufficient
proof of SHAKSPEARE'S affinity to BACON in Ham let alone?
* * * * *
[Illustration: WORTH CULTIVATING.]
* * * * *
_Ex-Premier sings_:--
My name's WILLIAM GLADSTONE, I live at fair Harwarden,
I'm Welshman at heart; this gold-find in North Wales
At the Gwynfynydd Mine I do trust will bring fortune
To all who are born 'midst these mountains and vales.
Yes, indeed, and all places, though foreign and beautiful,
This brave little country I prize far above;
For indeed in my heart I do love the Principality,
And you, JENNY JONES, too, in truth I do love.
For fifty long years I've ploughed Politics' ocean,
And served my full time in the gallant State-ship;
And indeed, goodness knows, I've braved many engagements,
And many dark storms 'twixt the cup and the lip,
I've tried all the parties now, Tory, Whig, Radical,
Smiled on each in its turn, as to win me each strove;
But I said in my heart, little Wales I love chiefly,
And sweet JENNY JONES, too, in truth I do love!
I agree with PARNELL, and the Lord Mayor of Dublin,
In loving fair Erin, of Islands the Queen;
And having worn Blue, Buff, and Red in succession,
I can't see much harm in now wearing the Green.
But not e'en Hibernia, the sweet and the sorrowful,
Like you, my dear charmer, my passion can move;
For, indeed, in my heart I love "gallant little Wales," I do;
And sweet JENNY JONES, too, in truth I do love!
I parted long since from the home of my fathers,
And then JENNY JONES was a dowerless lass;
But now I'm a grey and storm-beaten old mariner,
To wealth, she, through brave PRITCHARD-MORGAN, shall pass.
May Gold--and Home Rule--bring you wealth and contentment,
And ne'er from my Party, my dear, may you rove:
For indeed in our hearts we all love Wales tremendously,
And you, JENNY JONES, dear, till death will I love!
[_Left philandering._
* * * * *
[Illustration: "WHERE ARE THE POLICE?!"
MRS. HOWTHDOWN AND HER DAUGHTERS, WHO ARE IN TOWN FOR THE CATTLE-SHOW,
ARE DISGUSTED BY THE AGGRESSIVE VULGARITY OF THE LONDON STREET-BOY, AND
THINK IT OUGHT TO BE "PUT A STOP TO"!
_Juvenile Baked Potato Vendor (to Crossing-Sweeper)._ "'SAY, BILL, 'ERE
Y'ARE! THEM'LL BE FUST AND SECOND PRIZE, AND 'IGHLY COMMENDED!!"]
* * * * *