minions, who wore hideous masks, had nothing much to say, So an IRVING was not wanted to do their part of the play.  On this eventful night the house was packed from roof to pit, And the Manager was jubilant at having made a hit.  The Curtain drawing slowly up, revealed a flowery glade, In which the Fairy Starlight and her lovely maidens played.  The wicked Demon then came on, and round the stage did glower; No mortal man could e’er withstand his wrath or evil power.  Last of all came Burleybumbo with his crew, a motley horde, Our old friend, Blacksmith JOHN, was in attendance on his lord.  They were singing and carousing, when a man rushed in to say That a dozen wealthy travellers were coming down that way.  The band dispersed, and hid themselves, in hopes that they might plunder The unsuspecting wayfarers.  Alas! now came the blunder:  Old JOHN he wouldn’t hide himself, but coolly walked about Advancing to the footlights, he looked around—­but hark! a shout:—­ “Confound you!  Dash my—!  Just come off!  Hi, you!  Who are you?  JOHN!” “Not if I knowsh it, jolly old pal!  I’ve only just come on!” Thus saying, he lumbered round the stage.  The Prompter’s heart had sunk:  No doubt about the matter—­Burleybumbo’s man is drunk!  “Come off!  Come off!” from every wing was now the angry cry.  “Me off, indeed!  Oh, would yer?  Sh’like to see the feller try!” Burleybumbo then appeared, and vainly tried to drag him back.  JOHN stove his pasteboard head in with a most refreshing crack.  The wicked Demon now rushed on; his supernatural might Was very little use to him on this surprising night.  He tried to push him down the glade, but here again JOHN sold him; He caught the Demon round the waist, and at the Prompter bowled him.  Ah! such a shindy ne’er was seen, such riot and such rage—­ It was the finest “rally” ever seen on any stage!  ’Mid shrieks and cat-calls, whistles shrill, hysterics and guffaws, They rang the Curtain down amidst uproarious applause.  The piece is still a great success; but, I regret to say, JOHN’s name appears no longer in the bills of that fine play!

* * * * *

NOT INSIDE OUT.

  Fair Maiden, you’re looking a vision of beauty,
  You may comfort yourself you’ve no rival to fear;
  But you won’t take it ill if I feel it my duty
  To whisper a word of advice in your ear.

  Now, the word would be this—­when the daylight is dawning,
  Or, at any rate, when it’s more early than late,
  Pray remember the coachman, who, fitfully yawning
  Outside in the street, finds it weary to wait.

  You reck not at all of the hours that are fleeting,
  You ask for an “extra”—­you can’t be denied. 
  But though, doubtless, soft nothings may set your heart beating,
  Yet they’re awfully cold for the people outside.

  Want of thought, not of heart, is the reason as ever,
  So if you find leisure to read through this rhyme,
  When you order your carriage, in future endeavour
  To prevent any waiting—­by being in time,