Punch, Or The London Charivari, Volume 102, March 19, 1892

The last play by M. BLAGUE VAN DER BOSCH has just been translated into English. It is called The Blackbeetle, and is a purely domestic drama. The following Scene from the last Act will give some idea of the exquisite simplicity and pathos of this great work. M. VAN DER BOSCH's admirers freely assert that SHAKSPEARE never wrote anything like this. It will be noticed that M. VAN DER BOSCH, like M. MAETERLINCK, does not always name his characters, but only mentions their relation to each other.

SCENE XXV.--_The Great Grandmother, the Mother-in-law, the Female First Cousin one remove, and the Brother-in-law's Aunt are discovered standing on the table, and the Half-sister's Nephew by marriage on a chair._

The Mother-in-law. Eh? eh? eh?

The Female First Cousin one remove (pointing to Half-sister's Nephew by marriage). He! he! he!

The Great Grandmother. Ay! ay! ay!

The Half-sister's Nephew by marriage (shuddering). Oh! oh! oh!

The Brother-in-law's Aunt (to him). You! you! you! [_The Half-sister's Nephew by marriage descends and resolutely steps upon the Blackbeetle. Curtain._

Mal à la tête, ennui, migraine, We risk in trying to explain Why, though the Income-tax is high, This country never can supply Such galleries as line the Seine.

Yet gifts are treated with disdain, Which gives the would-be donors pain,-- We've now a name to call that by, "_Mal à la_ TATE."

Next time an offer's made in vain MACNEILL, or someone, will obtain, Or ask, at least, the reason why, And even dumber folks will cry, "By Jove! they've made a mull again, MULL à la TATE!"

Everybody who took delight in our old friend Uncle Remus will thoroughly enjoy A Plantation Printer, by JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS. The Baron doesn't recommend it to be taken at one sitting, the dialect being rather difficult, but a chapter at a time will be found refreshing. The like advice may be acted upon by anyone who has invested in the latest volume of the Library of Wit and Humour, entitled Faces and Places. By H.W. LUCY. The "Faces" are represented by a portrait of Ride-to-Khiva BURNABY, and one of the Author of these entertaining papers. The first brief narrative, which ought to have been called "How I met BURNABY," is specially interesting; and the only disappointing thing in the book is the omission of "An Evening with Witches," as a companion picture to "A Night at Watts's."

By the way, in my copy of A Plantation Printer, the English printer has made one slip, a sin of omission, at p. 153, where, Miss CARTER, a charming young lady, is watching a Georgian Fox-hunt. She sees "a group of shadows, with musical voices, sweep across the Bermuda fields."

"'O ow beautiful!' exclaimed Miss CARTER, clapping her little hands," and, we may add, dropping her little "h" in her excitement. "I can put up with the loss of an 'h,' but not for a wilderness of aspirates would I have lost this healthy, cheery chapter," says

THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.

At first I loved thee--thou wast warm,-- The porter called thee "'ot," nay, "bilin.'" I tipped him as thy welcome form He carried, with a grateful smile, in.

Alas! thou art a faithless friend, Thy warmth was but dissimulation; Thy tepid glow is at an end, And I am nowhere near my station!

I shiver, cold in feet and hands, It is a legal form of slaughter, They don't warm(!) trains in other lands With half a pint of tepid water.

I spurn thy coldness with a kick, And pile on rugs as my protectors. I'd send--to warm them--to Old Nick, Thy parsimonious Directors!

"You have pleaded guilty to an indictment which charges you with having misappropriated trust moneys. You have reduced a fortune of £28,000 to £7,000. This means a wretched pittance to beneficiaries who, before your fraud, were enjoying a fairly decent income. I am aware that you are a distinguished Magistrate,--that you have belonged to many Clubs,--that there is not a slur upon the cooking that used to distinguish your dinner-parties. I know the severity of the sentence I am about to pass, and I wish my conscience would permit me to give you a lighter punishment. But I cannot."

The accused was then sentenced to five years' penal servitude.

A little later another prisoner was put in the dock for stealing twenty shillings. The prisoner (who was a sailor) was sentenced to ten years' penal servitude, and seven years' police supervision. The case was of no public interest.

FROM AN IRISH REPORTER IN A TROUBLED DISTRICT.--"The Police patrolled the street all night, but for all that there was no disturbance."

NEW SONG OF TRIUMPH FOR SALVATIONISTS AT EASTBOURNE, ACCOMPANIED BY DRUM AND IRRELIGIOUS CYMBALS.--"_Tra-la-la-Booth-te-ray_!"

DEMEANING THEMSELVES so!--Mrs. R. cannot understand our aristocracy being constantly Chairmen at public dinners. She wouldn't be a Chairwoman for anything.

WHERE "GHOSTS" OUGHT TO EXIST.--"_Haunt 'un_ Street, W." It's an artistic quarter. [Is this Hornton Street? Possibly.--ED.]