Saturday.—­Production of the Illustrious ISIDORE DE LARA’s Light of Asia.  So the operatic day, that is Saturde-ay, finishes with generally-expressed opinion that this Opera is a

    “DE-LA-RA-Boom-de-ay!”

Everything scenically and stage-managerially that could be done to make The Light of Asia brilliant, Sir DRURIOLANUS has done; but, after a first hearing, it strikes me that, regarded as a work for the stage, it is a mere Night-light of Asia, which, like Macbeth’s “brief candle,” will go “out,” and “then be heard no more.”  If, however, it be relegated to the concert-hall, as a Cantata, The Light of Asia may appear lighter than it does on the boards of Covent Garden, where, intended to be a dramatic Opera, it only recalls to me the title of one of RUDYARD KIPLING’s stories, viz., The Light that Failed.

* * * * *

A SUTTON THOUGHT.—­Mr. CHAMBERLAIN can now allude to Lord ROSEBERY as “a Sutton person of his acquaintance.”

* * * * *

[Illustration:  QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS.

Unfashionable Mother. “WHAT A SWEET CHILD!  HOW OLD IS SHE?”

Fashionable Mother. “WELL, REALLY, IF YOU ARE GOING TO ASK THAT SORT OF QUESTION, I’D BETTER SEND FOR THE NURSE!”]

* * * * *

AN OLD SONG REVIVED.

    (As sung by the Champion Ulster “Comique,” Colonel S-nd-rs-n,
    to the old tune of “De Groves of de Pool,” written by “honest
    Dick Millikin.")

Whillaloo!  If they droive us to foighting,
’Tis ourselves who will lead ’em a dance,
Till, loike the Cork bhoys, they’re deloighting,
Back again to their homes to advance! 
No longer in beating such rebels
We’ll take than in baiting a bull. 
How they’ll squake, in effeminate trebles,
When Ulster’s battalions are full! 
Ri fol didder rol didder rol!

We trate ’em as loving relations?
We trust to the “Union of Hearts”?
We heed the Grand Old One’s orations?
We play the Minority’s parts?
We bow to the yoke of TIM HEALY?
We stoop to the Papisthry rule? 
Faix! them who imagine it really
Must fancy that “Orange” spells “fool.” 
Ri fol didder rol didder rol!

We consint to a sham House o’ Commons
Established on ould College Green? 
They fancy we’re Radical rum ’uns! 
Allaygiance we owe to our QUEEN! 
But we’re fly to their thraitorous dodges;
Our loyalty’s edge would they dull? 
Fwit!  We’ll pour like a flood from our Lodges,
And crack every “National” skull! 
Ri fol didder rol didder rol!

We’re all friends of Law and of Order,
But would they wrench us from the Crown? 
We’ll soon be a-singing “Boyne Water,”
And marching to “Croppies, lie down!”
’Tis we have the Men and the Money,
We don’t want to foight, we’re quite cool. 
But, by Jingo, our foes will look funny,
When Ulster turns out ’gin Home Rule! 
Ri fol didder rol didder rol!