apparently there is. The acting is, on the whole, good, and some of it very good. William Farren, one of the best of English players, makes all that is to be made (as it seems to me, who did not see Mr. Irving) out of Digby Grand, Mr. Giddens is an excellent blind Caleb (a very clever actor must be Mr. Giddens), and Mr. David James simply is "Our Mr. Jenkins." Maude Millett is pretty and graceful, and the whole entertainment entertaining. But still, how it ever became a celebrated comedy—

And by crammed houses it is, I hear, being fully appreciated. Indeed, I should only say, judging by this Criterion on the night I was present, it is in for another long run.

Yours,
Little Peterkin.

Shakspeare Up Again.—A Baconian writes to ask if there isn't sufficient proof of Shakspeare's affinity to Bacon in Ham let alone?

"WHERE ARE THE POLICE?!"

Mrs. Howthdown and her Daughters, who are in Town for the Cattle-Show, are disgusted by the aggressive vulgarity of the London Street-Boy, and think it ought to be "put a stop to"!

Juvenile Baked Potato Vendor (to Crossing-Sweeper). "'Say, Bill, 'ere y'are! Them'll be Fust and Second Prize, and 'Ighly Commended!!"

A VISIT TO "THE LICENSED VISTLERS."

In the Winter Exhibition of the Royal Society of British Artists, who, under their distinguished President, James McNeile Whistler, may now be known as the "Licensed Vistlers," there is some good work, and especially two sketches, 77, 83, and 335, by James Hayllar, R.B.A.; 319, by H. G. Glindon, R.B.A.; Simmons's "Sunrise," 330; Solomon's; 454, Professor Gartz (pretty subject); 458, by Henley, R.B.A.; 466, by Walters, R.B.A.

There is a remarkable picture of, apparently, A Serious Masher, which turns out to be a portrait of Mr. Willard, the actor who so cleverly impersonates modern stage villains as to be known as "Willinous Willard," by Sidney Starr, R.B.A. Artistic Starr painting Theatrical Star; quite right. No. 293 is a sorry sight—the picture of a nice portly young man trying to look like Lord Rosebery, but with the dye coming off his hair in evident patches. Very clever effect this, by Theodore Roussel, R.B.A.

Go and see No. 341, by William Stott, of Oldham, R.B.A.,—a name that sounds quite Shakspearian, like "Goodman Puff of Barson,"—and give yourself three guesses at what W. S. of Oldham means by it. It represents a very carotty-haired young woman, looking pale as a turnip—"white flesh," as the gardeners say—taking a bathe in the sea when no one is looking, and where police regulations are not in force. She is so tallowy in face and flesh colour, and her hair so flaming red, that the title might be, "A 'Dip' in the Sea." Well, this is William Stott of Oldham's "Venus;" and if you'll turn to No. 183, you will see the same young person, looking none the better for her bath, clothed, with carrots dressed, and neatly bound up, sitting pensively chez-elle, probably regretting her recent escapade, and hoping that no one has seen her. Little does she know that William Stott of Oldham has stotted her down in his note-book. 326, "Hard Hit," by R. J. Gordon, R.B.A., is clever; but the meaning of its title, as illustrated by a weeping woman flinging herself across the knees of a drunken-looking man, is not quite clear. Has he hit her hard, and is that why she is so distressed? or has his head received a nasty thwack, as indicated by the white hat, lying on the table, twisted out of all shape?

At the end of the Catalogue is printed a list of the prices, from which it will be seen what value the artists themselves set on their own pictures. The President of the Licensed Vistlers exhibits only twenty pictures, sixteen of which have no price affixed to them in the list, and are therefore evidently gems, and priceless.