[Illustration: No. 518. Left Leg Shrunk.]
[Illustration: No. 624. Her Serene Transparency.]
[Illustration: No. 413. Hard Hit in a Town and Gown Row.]
[Illustration: No. 647. What can we do with the Baby?]
[Illustration: No. 623. Warming his Back against the Soup Tureen.]
[Illustration: No. 253. Pulling the Stuffing out of Toy Terrier.]
A grand flare-up on Thursday last. A Jubilee _Soiree_ worthy of the
Jubilee Year and the Royal Academicians. Kings, Queens, Royal
Highnesses, Grand Dukes and Duchesses have become so common this Jubilee
month, that, when some _blase_ and well-seasoned Londoner is asked who
such and such a decorated person is, he languidly replies, "Oh! only a
King, or something of that sort."
There was a private Royal Night on Wednesday, when only Royalty and The
Forty R.A.'s were present,--"The Forty" did something in the oil and
colour line, as we gather from _The Arabian Nights_, revised edition, by
Lady BURTON,--and, of course, _Mr. Punch_, who is everywhere on every
occasion, and who, in a general way, represents H.R.H. Everybody.
On Thursday night, T.R.H. Everybody and Everybody Else were present, and
the scene was brilliant. Sir FREDERICK, a Prince among Presidents and a
President among Princes, graciously welcomed the guests. He was assisted
by Sir EVERETT MILLAIS and Treasurer HORSLEY, who appeared rather weary,
perhaps tired of counting the shillings, or worried by the uncertainty
of the monetary value of the BOEHM silver currency.
The Queen of the Pictures is still Professor HERKOMER'S Lady in black
with the long gloves. She lingers in our memory, and will do so for many
a long day. May we never see her _in propria persona_, or disappointment
might be our dole. The Lady in the picture cannot age. Even amidst all
the living breathing beauty collected within those walls on Thursday
last, the Lady on the wall, if we may so put it, "took the
cake,"--though she didn't take it all, as there was plenty left for Miss
MARY ANDERSON, Miss DOROTHY DENE, and some other charming ladies. One
more visit to the Royal Academy, and then the Show for 1887 will have
passed away. Then, after a brief holiday, the Artists will be again at
work, according to their individual taste and fancy, taking (lucky
_gourmets_!) each one just what best suits his palette. _Au revoir!_
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