(_A Fable._)
A Goose that had miss-spent a long life, and, in addition to being
old and ugly, was of a sour, ill-natured disposition, in despair of
rendering herself any longer agreeable to her male acquaintances,
conceived the desperate design of emancipating her female friends.
"It is intolerable," she declared to a large assemblage of the latter
who flocked together directly the news of her design was noised
abroad, "it is intolerable that, whilst all the good things of this
life are reserved for the exclusive use and enjoyment of our male
tyrants, we poor female creatures should be put off with feeble bodies
and dowdy, unattractive plumage. I will go immediately to the King of
Birds and demand the instant redress of these grievances under pain of
my serious displeasure."
Scarcely had the Goose received the thanks of her audience for this
valiant speech, when an Eagle, which chanced to be soaring at that
moment in the heavens above them, and was attracted by the clamour
that reached him, dropped suddenly to the earth in order to discover
the cause of it; to whom the Goose, so soon as she was sufficiently
recovered of her fears, humbly addressed her complaint.
"Foolish bird!" exclaimed the Eagle, when the Goose had made an end
of her complainings, "know you not that what is fixed by Nature cannot
possibly be altered by birds; and that if your sex have weaker bodies
and a less attractive plumage than belong to us of the male gender, it
is because Nature wills it so, and must be obeyed? Learn to be content
with what you have, and cease envying those to whom Nature has been
more prodigal of certain favours than she has been to you. Remember,
also, foolish bird! that strength of mind is not the same thing with
strength of body, and that though you may possess the one and pretend
to despise the other, yet is Might the foundation of nearly all Right
in the animal world, and must remain so because Nature will have it so
and must be obeyed."
* * * * *
SHAKSPEARIAN CHARACTERS AT MANCHESTER,--Last Friday H.R.H. the
Prince of WALES'S horse _Florizel II._ took the cake, or, rather,
the Manchester Cup. _Florizel II._ is now _Florizel I._ In this new
illustration to a Summer's not _A Winter's Tale_, _Perdita_ should
represent the race from the point of view of those who didn't win.
* * * * *
ANOTHER TITLE!! SUPPLEMENTAL GAZETTE OF BIRTHDAY HONOURS.--DR. W. G.
GRACE to be Cricket-Field-Marshal.
* * * * *
[Illustration: "JUST LOOK AT MR. JONES OVER THERE, FLIRTING WITH THAT
GIRL! I ALWAYS THOUGHT HE WAS A WOMAN-HATER?"
"SO HE IS; BUT SHE'S NOT HERE TO-NIGHT!"]
* * * * *
"AS SIMPLE AS ITALIAN."
(_A Dramatic Fragment from Drury Lane._)
SCENE--_The Auditorium of the National Theatre. Present the
customary throng. A performance on the stage is occupying the
spectators' wrapt attention. Newly-married couple in stalls
holding a discussion in undertones._
_Angelina._ I am so glad, dear, you did not get a book of the words.
It will be such a capital exercise for my Italian. I find that I can
understand every word.
_Edwin_ (_happy to have saved the expense of purchasing a translated
libretto_). Quite so, dear. You can tell me what they are doing.
_Ang._ Certainly, dear. Look, they are now having supper. You see, the
heroine called for candles, and the waiter put them on the table. And
now they are talking about things in general. And that is _Armande_.
And don't you see _Marguerite_ is ill.
_Edwin._ Yes; she is fainting in front of a window.
_Ang._ Exactly. Italian is so easy--almost like English. She gives him
a flower, and he goes away. He says adieu, and then the curtain falls.
_Edwin_ Was that in Italian too?
_Ang._ Don't be absurd. (_They discuss things in general, until the
curtain rises on the Second Act._) Look, it is the same scene. You
see, they are engaged. She is making love to him.
_Edwin._ Is that why he is sitting in a chair with his back to the
audience while _Marguerite_ strokes his hair?
_Ang._ Yes. While she is stroking his hair she is saying how fond she
is of him. And now he is telling her how fond he is of her.
_Edwin_ (_after a quarter of an hour_). What are they saying?
_Ang._ Oh, just the same thing over and over again. The Italian
language is so beautiful. "Oh, _Armande_!" She calls him by his
Christian name. She is so attached to him.
_Edwin._ But what was the meaning of that?
_Ang._ (_at the end of the Act_). Oh, don't you see, he said something
that pleased her. Then she kissed him. Really, I had no idea how
easy Italian was. Of course, one understands it from knowing French.
(_Entr'acte passes as before, and curtain rises on Act Three._) Ah,
here we are at Auteuil. Yes, and here comes _Marguerite_ with some
flowers. Isn't it interesting?
_Edwin._ Isn't this piece rather like the _Traviata_?
_Ang._ I don't know. But I never saw the Opera. And there, that old
gentleman has come to call upon _Marguerite_.
_Edwin._ Why, of course, like the old chap with the baritone song. Now
I begin to understand Italian myself.
_Ang._ Do you, dear? Well, you see, he was going to be rude, and then
they made it up, and she gave him a chair. And there, do you see?
she leaves a letter for _Armande_. It is for him to read. And now she
leaves him. And he is reading the letter.
_Edwin._ And doesn't seem to like it. And there's the old chap
(_without the song_), and he is consoling him.
_Ang._ (_after a glance at her playbill_). Yes, because they are
father and son. (_The Fourth Act passes, and she explains to her
husband that Marguerite has been playing at cards, and that Armande is
very angry with her._) That's why he throws money at her.
_Edwin._ Rather a cad--_Armande_.
_Ang._ Oh, no. You know we must not judge foreigners by an English
standard. (_The last Act commences._) You see, she is very ill. That
cradle covered with rugs is her bed.
_Edwin._ Indeed!
_Ang._ Yes. And that I suppose must be the doctor. I wonder what they
are saying! This Act they all seem to be talking faster than they did
in the others. That old woman was her friend. I wonder why she has
left her like that!
_Edwin._ Didn't she say something like "What a rum go?" It is the only
line I have understood since the commencement of the performance. What
is she saying now?
_Ang._ (_hesitating_). Well, I am not quite sure. But you see she is
very ill. She scarcely recognises _Armande_.
_Edwin._ What is he saying? What has he done with his father?
_Ang._ (_perplexed_). I can't quite follow this Act--they talk so
fast.
_Edwin._ And, I say, why on earth have these two turned up? A lady in
complete bridal costume--wreath, veil, and all--and a chap in evening
dress. What on earth have _they_ got to do with the story?
_Ang._ Don't you think, dear, we had better get a book?
_Edwin_ (_ignoring the suggestion_). There's the poor thing dead!
_Ang._ Ah, I understood the last bit quite well. The Italian language
is so much more expressive than our own, isn't it, dear?
_Edwin._ Darling, it is!
[_Cigarettes, cabs, and Curtain_.
* * * * *