No!  Heaven prolong his parent’s life
  And grant that no untimely strife
    May wean them from each other! 
  For soon he’d find the golden fleece
  Slip from his grasp, should he e’er cease
    To keep and—­love his mother!

* * * * *

A CON.  BY COLONEL SIBTHORP.

Why is a chesnut horse, going at a rapid pace up an inclined plane, like an individual in white trousers presenting a young lady in book muslin with an infantine specimen of the canine species?—­Because he is giving a gallop up (a girl a pup).

* * * * *

THE DRAMA.

ASTLEY’S COMPANY AT THE OLYMPIC.

The distresses of actors distress nobody but themselves.  A tale of woe told off the stage by a broad comedian, begets little sympathy; and if he is in the “heavy line,” people say he is used to it, and is only acting—­playing off upon you a melancholy joke, that he may judge how it will tell at night.  Thus, when misfortune takes a benefit, charity seldom takes tickets; for she is always sceptical about the so-called miseries of the most giddy, volatile, jolly, careless, uncomplaining (where managers and bad parts are not concerned) vainest, and apparently, happiest possible members of the community, who are so completely associated with fiction, that they are hardly believed when telling the truth. Par exemple—­nothing can be more true than that Astley’s Theatre was burnt down the other day; that the whole of that large establishment were suddenly thrown out of employ; that their wardrobes were burnt to rags, their properties reduced to a cinder, and their means of subsistence roasted in a too rapid fire.  True also is it, that to keep the wolf from their own doors, those of the Olympic have been opened, where the really dismounted cavalry of Astley’s are continuing their campaign, having appealed to the public to support them.  Judging from the night we were present, that support has been extended with a degree of lukewarmness which is exactly proportionate to the effect produced by the appeals of actors when misfortune overtakes them.

But, besides public sympathy, they put forth other claims for support.  The amusements they offer are of extraordinary merit.  The acting of Mr. H. Widdicomb, of Miss Daly, and Mr. Sidney Forster, was, in the piece we saw—­“The Old House at Home”—­full of nature and quiet touches of feeling scarcely to be met with on any other stage.  Still these are qualifications the “general” do not always appreciate; though they often draw tears, they seldom draw money.  Very well, to meet that deficiency, other and more popular actors have come forward to offer their aid.  Mr. T.P.  Cooke has already done his part, as he always does it, nobly.  The same may be said of Mr. Hammond.  When we were present, Mrs. H.L.  Grattan and Mr. Balls appeared in the “Lady of Munster.”  Mr. Sloan, a popular Irish comedian from the provinces, has lent a helping hand, by coming out in a new drama.  Mr. Keeley is also announced.