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LATEST IN MASSAGE.—­Our friend, Mrs. RAM, says she will not be “sham pooh’d;” she will be either really pooh’d, or not pooh’d at all.

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“THE BIG BIG D.”  ENCORED.

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MR. W.S.  GILBERT ought to have been engaged as Counsel in the Duplany v. Duplany divorce case, when, attired in his wig, gown, and hands—­ARTHUR SULLIVAN’s full hands of course—­he could have put the question which Mr. GILL had to make a pint of putting, i.e., as to the occasional use of strong language.  Set librettically, “Firenza la bella” would have answered in her sweetest strain and with her most bewitching Florentine manner, “I never use a big big D.”  To her the Counsel, not Mr. GILL but Mr. GIL-BERT, would have retorted musically, “What ‘never’?’” To him the fair Witness, replying on consideration, “Well,—­hardly ever!” Then the chorus, led by the Judge, Sir FRANCIS JEUNE, and joined in by all the Jeuniors of his Court, would have wound up this portion of the proceedings, if not harmoniously, at least tunefully.  For future reference, it would be known as “the Big Big D-ivorce Case.”  How such occasional musical outbursts would lighten the labours of the Court through many a tedious case!  And in a cause un peu celebre like this, where there is a crammed house and enthusiastic audience ready to take every point, and risk possible expulsion rather than remain quiet, what a relief such a burst of song would be to everybody’s pent-up feelings and bottled-up excitement.  The comedy is all very well, but the finale is tragic, the last scene of all being from the historical subject with modern application representing “MARIUS seated among the ruins” of what might have been a happy domestic life.

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A PANNICK IN GILDHALL!

We’ve jist bin and had sitch a Pannick in the City as we ain’t not had since the prowd and orty Portogeese threttened to stop any more old Port from leaving of their shores, unless we guv ’em up ever so much of the hinside of Afrikey.  Ah, that was a pannick that was, and all us Waiters felt it severially, but her Majesty’s Guvernment, seeing at wunce the sollem natur of the threat, made such terrems as settled the hole affair, and Port went down as ushal.

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Well that was bad enuff in all conshense, but it was nothink to what we has all bin threttened with, from the Lord MARE on his throne of power to the umblest waiter of his royal estaberlishmunt.  I herd ony last week from the Gildall Beedle, so it must be trew, that ever so many of what’s called Comishunners of Suers had cum a tearing down stairs from their place up above, a cussin and a swearin like mad, becoz the Kumpany as was a jest beginnin for to lite up our streets with Lectrissity. had writtin for to say as they coodn’t get it dun for more nor another