"Mr. Nicholas," said I, "what does all this | on other points, and has read immensely, I can mean? Your master is mad; it's of no use to assure you." deny it." "Well, Mrs. Brumby," answered he, "I won't deny but that my master is mad upon one subject." "And that is" "Cats!" said Mr. Nicholas, laughing. "But really I can't let my lodgings to a perfect lunatic." "You need have no fear, Mrs. Brumby: he is perfectly harmless, and more sensible than many sane people upon most points." “But he said he was the King of Dahomey," said I. "Oh! very likely! But did he get as far as that he must have been very excited. Now look here, Mrs. Brumby, it will be inconvenient for us to leave this for another fortnight; if you like to keep us on as we are now, I'll tell you as much of my master's history as I can in honour do." I was burning with very natural curiosity, so I agreed on these terms. "You must know, Mrs. Brumby," said Mr. Nicholas, "that the gentleman whom you know as Mr. Jefferson is a person of high birth and considerable wealth." "Then his real name isn't Jefferson?" said I. "No more than mine is Nicholas Unwin. However, he is slightly deranged upon one or two points, quite rational on all others. He is quite aware of his infirmity, and is also aware that his cousin Lord B― (I may not mention his name,) would get him shut up in a lunatic asylum if he could, in order to get the management of the property. To avoid this, my master has assumed his present name, and in my company goes about the country, and lives very comfortably, though of course quite privately." "And what of Dr. Martyn ?" I asked. "Oh, he is a very sensible and humane man, who understands Sir (I mean my master's case) very well, and assists him to keep all quiet." "But, my dear Mr. Nicholas," said I, "you have not told me why your master is so excited by the sight of a cat. He said all cats were tigers, and that he had seen his only child torn to pieces by one; was this the case?" Certainly not," answered Mr. Nicholas; "he was never married, and never had a child. The fact was, that when a child himself, and when his weakness of intellect first began to show itself, he was very much frightened by a fierce cat, which flew at him and scratched him. The story was foolishly repeated often before him, and took such an effect that the sight of a cat always put him in a frenzy.” "But he said he was the King of Dahomey." "Ab, that's another of his extraordinary delusions; sometimes when he is very much excited I am obliged to kneel down to him, and call him " your Majesty." Once when I didn't do so, he tried to knock me down with a poker, but that was the only occasion when I ever saw Lim violent. He is a remarkably clever man I could obtain no further information, so I was obliged to rest satisfied. My lodgers remained during the next fortnight, but I was anything but comfortable; for being naturally of a nervous disposition, the idea of being in the same house with a lunatic, even though he was mad only on cats and the King of Dahomey, was very disagreeable to me. My lodgers left at last; Mr. Nicholas gave me at parting a piece of advice not to say much about Mr. Jefferson, as it could do me no good, and might do a great deal of harm. Mr. Jefferson himself was very gracious, and told me that if at any time I wanted an appointment under government (his government, of course,) I was to write to him at his address in Dahomey, and my wishes should be attended to. It was about three weeks after their departure, as near as I can remember, that my next lodgers, and, as it turned out, my last, arrived. They were father and son; the father was a little stout man, with a body like a sack of potatoes set on two thin legs. He had the queerest, most good-humoured face I ever saw, very red, with fat cheeks, which hung loose in little bags on each side of his face; his eyes were small and piercing; his thin hair was brushed up in points over his ears, and his voice was sharp and brisk, and always perfectly self-satisfied in its tone. He was dressed in a black coat and waistcoat, which were just a little bit white at the seams, and shiney at the edges; he had, too, a white cravat, rather limp, and drab trousers, and shoes. When he came about the lodgings he said, in his sharp way, "My name's Sucker, mum-Abel Sucker, at your service," "Are you a minister, sir?" said I. "I am so, mum,” said Mr. Sucker, "though at the present time unemployed in my vocation, unforeseen circumstances over which I have no control having deprived me of my ministerial centre." He then brought forward his son, a tall shambling lad of fifteen, though he might have been forty as far as his face went he was as yellow and wizened and disagreeable a boy as I ever recollect to have met with, and I have seen a many disagreeable boys in my time, too. : "This," said Mr. Sucker, "is my son, mum, Erskine Sucker, so named after the celebrated Lord Chancellor, with whose history you are of course acquainted. My son, mum, is now study. ing the important branches of a legal education, it being his wish to enter that profession, and carry his illustrious name, illustrious on account of the great Chancellor, to the scenes of forensic eloquence. good?" I hope, mum, your cooking is I was rather startled at the sudden way in which he left one subject for another so different, but replied that I always cooked myself, and generally gave satisfaction. 66 Because, mum," said Mr. Sucker, "I am as particular in my food as in my company. It is true that we are all worms, miserable crawling worms, Mrs, Brumby; but worms eat, and why should not we? and if we eat at all, why not the best? My experience in the culinary art, vulgarly known as cooking, is, I may say, extensive; you will therefore permit me, mum, without being intrusive, to offer occasional hints and cursory observations." I don't like interference in my cooking, and never shall; but I said, "Oh, certainly!" and so that matter dropped. Mr. Sucker soon made himself quite at home; he seemed able to settle down immediately. He was always bustling about in a state of good-humoured activity, always talking, and smiling all over his face, till his fat baggy cheeks shook, and rubbing his hands. He was very fond of having me with him, either asking me up to his rooms or coming down to mine, and though he was rather a trouble sometimes, yet he talked so fast and well about all kinds of things, that I got to like his fidgeting about at last. He was the most open of men, telling me frankly all about himself; and yet, somehow or other, I never got a clear idea of what he was, or how he lived; his was a kind of frankness which seems a great deal, and leads to nothing. One thing about him I never could discoverwhat denomination of religion he belonged to; he used to talk about advanced schools of thought, but I never heard him mention a Sunday School, and he used to be continually saying that he was before his age, and wasn't appreciated, which I think is very likely. "my son Erskine likes a raisin, and, to be candid with you, so do I." Of Erskine Sucker I saw very little; he seemed to be always studying, and if ever his name was mentioned his father used to talk of his wonderful sharpness and legal knowledge till I got quite tired of the subject. "My son Erskine, mum," Mr. Sucker would say, "is a shining light, a bright example to youth in general and sons in particular. My son will be a centre one day, a legal centre of extreme clearness; my son has prospects, mum, great prospects; he will in due course be admitted into the office of Messrs. Catchflat and Gripehard, of whom you have doubtless heard. You don't know them? Well, they are a most respectable and respected firm, I can assure you; Mr. Catchflat's father was connected with Mr. Drylore, the celebrated lawyer of whom you must have heard, and Mr. Gripehard's sister-but I trouble you, Mrs. Brumby, with what does not interest you. Don't forget the Worcester sauce added to the roast mutton; we're all worms, it's true, but-don't forget the sauce." In course of time Mr. Sucker was absent frequently during the day and evening, and often dined away from home, generally ordering something hot for supper on his return. I began to suspect he was making a centre in Margate, and at last asked if such was the case. "I will not deny, mum,” said he, with one "You see, mum," he said, one day, "we are of his self-satisfied smiles, "that I have hopes all intended to be centres in life, one in one way, of establishing myself as a centre here. I have one in another. You are a centre, Mrs. Brum- been engaged in various duties of a mixed charby, round which revolve the domestic arts of acter lately, principally tending towards the making comfortable lodgings, easy beds, and establishment of useful and benevolent societies. succulent dishes. I am a centre, mum, though I have organized a committee for a society to be just now, owing to unforeseen circumstances, called "The Genial Intercourse and Mutual over which I have no control, my sphere is cir- Provident Edification Society," of which the cumscribed, and my opportunities of being a prospectus will shortly be issued, a friendly centre of usefulness are limited. I was lately printer having embraced the views of the society. the centre of a congregation, large, important, You will observe that this draft of the Prospectus, wealthy; but bigoted, narrow, mum, to a fright- mum, contains my name, the Rev. Abel Sucker, ful degree, despicably narrow. I advanced as Treasurer. I have this evening attended a views which should have met with universal meeting which I was instrumental in assembling, approbation, as being advanced, liberal, free for the purpose of exporting hair-pins to the from sectarian bias. I advocated a community Feejee Islands; managing agent, Rev. Abel of goods; I said, 'My friends, are we not bro- Sucker. You will perceive, mum, that I am a thers? Let us share as brothers, as members philanthropist; but my philanthropy is not of a of one family?' I explained to them patiently coarse and common order: it belongs to an and clearly-for they were dull, mum, pig- advanced school of thought not yet appreciated; headed, I may say-I explained to them that I│I have no doubt that I shall be misunderstood, was in reduced circumstances, and the natural conclusion to be deduced from that fact was, that there was something wrong somewhere; I suggested a participation in all our possessions, but I was misunderstood; pig-headedness and sectarian bias triumphed; I retired in disgust from an uncongenial soil, and why? Because, mum, I am before my age, and my thoughts and sentiments are too advanced for a slow-minded people to appreciate. What pud-gentleman should. I must say, too, that Mr. ding were you proposing for to-day, mum?" "I thought a nice plain batter pudding would be a change, sir,” said I. "Throw in a raisin, mum," said Mr. Sucker; but I must rest content with the knowledge that such a fate belongs to those who are before their age. Julius Cæsar, of whom, mum, you have heard, was before his time; so was Galileo; and so, in a word, mum, am I. But then, again, what of that, for what are we? worms!" I suspect that Mr. Sucker found his centre in Margate very profitable, as he always seemed to have plenty of money, and paid his way as a Sucker's conduct was always of the most correct kind while lodging in Shingle-street, though I can't say as much for his son Erskine. Besides, being always a morose, yellow-complex ioned boy, he had nasty habits of smoking out of window while engaged in the study of the law; and being also fond of Natural History, as his father said, he used to bring home lots of slimy things out of the sea, and crabs, and such like, and keep them with sea-weed in his bed-room, till the place was quite unbearable, and I was forced to mention it. On one occasion, too, young Erskine came home late at night from reading law with a friend, as was supposed; but as he smelt very strong of rum, and was rather weak on the legs, and moreover said that law was all bosh, and Blackstone an old humbug, I fancy his studies hadn't been entirely legal. Mr. Sucker was very severe in his remarks, all of which I could hear through his open door. "Are we," said Mr. Sucker, "to neglect our objects in life for the sake of animal gratifications? Are we not all worms? We are, but we have to become centres in life, and your centre, Erskine, my son, is to be in the scenes of legal acumen and forensic eloquence. What says the poet Virgil? "In vino veritas," which means "Abstain from wine;" wherefore, my son, abstain and keep your vessel pure, nor allow the excitement of a brain heated by arduous study to carry you beyond the bounds of sobriety and decorum." One day, Mr. Sucker brought home a handsome silver tea-pot, beautifully worked, with this inscription upon it:-"Presented to the Rev. Abel Sucker, the benevolent founder of the Society for the Amelioration of Colonial Comfort, especially designed to supply, spectacles to the old and infirm natives of New Zealand." There were one or two other little marks of esteem from this Club, and that Society, and I told Mr. Sucker that he seemed at least to be appreciated at Margate. "Why, you see. mum," said he, "it isn't this kind of appreciation that I value so much; hundreds, I may say thousands of men, like these tokens; hanker after them, in fact; but I be long to a school of advanced thought, which looks beyond the mere ephemeral marks of esteem from a fluctuating populace, and feels that to become a centre of usefulness is the mission of its followers; and then, if little emoluments drop in, why, we receive them as such. But, Mrs. Brumby, what I want to see is not a silver tea-pot presented by the people of Margate, though I confess the article is chaste and neat enough; what I want to see is not a public dinner or a flattering address, though since we are all worms such things do occasionally delight us. No, I do not wish to see these things: what I do wish to see is more light, mum, MORE LIGHT!" I don't exactly know what Mr. Sucker referred to, but he looked so excited and passionate, that I'm sure he meant what he said. Mr. Sucker and his son Erskine stayed with me upwards of two months, and then left rather suddenly, "unforeseen circumstances having arisen," as Mr. Sucker said, "which rendered it imperative for him to depart from his brief sojourning in the tents by the sea, as he more than expected to become a centre in Manchester in the course of a few weeks." He took his departure accordingly, and paid up all his accounts with me. After Mr. Sucker was gone I did hear some stories about his schemes for getting money, and some people went so far as to call him an adventurer and a humbug, but I am inclined to think that this arose from the advanced school of thought to which Mr. Sucker belonged not being rightly understood, and because he was, as he so often said, before his time. He was my last lodger, for soon after that I had a little property left me quite unexpectedly, and this, with what I had already, made me quite in easy circumstances, the only drawback being the mystery of John Brumby's absence. So I live now in Shingle-street, with no bills in the windows, and I don't think I shall ever let lodgings any more. MEMS OF Undoubtedly the event of the month of July will be the visit of the Belgians, and everything seems being done for their gratification and amusement, and there is every chance of their meeting with an enthusiastic and hearty reception in return for their princely hospitality to our Volunteers last autumn. Á grand ball will be given to them at the Agricultural Hall on the 17th, and every pains is being taken to make the arrangements perfect, and the entertainment worthy the occasion. When it is said that the music will be under the direction of Mr. Dan. THE MONTH. Godfrey, and the refreshment department has been entrusted to Messrs. Gunter, it speaks volumes for the style in which every detail will be carried out. Mr. Strange has placed all Belgians in uniform on the free list at the Alhambra during their visit, and a similar compliment has been accorded to them by Mr. Buckstone and Mr. Webster at the Haymarket and the Adelphi; and it is said that many managers will follow this good example. In addition to this, they will be entertained by Miss Burdett Coutts at Highgate; they will partake of civic hospitalities at Guildhall; receive something of the nature of a Royal welcome at Windsor, and be invited to a conversazione at the South Kensington Museum. There will be innumerable fetes and feasts in their honour at Wimbledon, and the Zoo will be at their disposal one Sunday, and the gardens at Kew on the other. The Committee have been working most heartily in the matter, and have spared no pains in order to make the Belgian uniform an instant passport to everything pleasant and agreeable. It is to be hoped the exertions of the Committee will be seconded by everybody; those who have money to spare should send it to the fund at once: those who have none can well do their part in aiding or assisting the Belgian uniform whenever and wherever they see it-in rescuing it from rapacious and extortionate cabmen, or any of those harpies who always prey upon a foreigner in distress, or in politely showing the way, pointing out objects of interest, or in according the thousand-and-one little courtesies which are so grateful to a stranger in London. That most delightful of all summer lounges on a Sunday-the Regents Park Zoological Gardens, or, as it is called in fashionable argot the "Zoo," has been crowded during the very few fine Sundays we have had this season. Every chair has been filled, and even the orchestra has been laid under contribution to furnish a temporary resting-place for the fair visitors. It is emphatically the pleasantest lounge anywhere in or about London, and its chief beauty consists in one being able to have repose or gaiety both within hail, so to speak; for it rests entirely with yourself as to which portion of the gardens you will patronize during your visit. A report has gone about that there is some talk of establishing a band to play here on a Sunday, as it does every Saturday during the season. It is sincerely to be hoped this will not be the case. Once establish an attraction of this kind, and the affair will become vulgarized; an immense rush of people will attend, the place will become overcrowded and unbearable, and at once lose the selectness and quietness which is its chief charm. Among the many pleasant festivals which take place in the month of July there are few with a charm so entirely their own as that of the Volunteer Encampment at Wimbledon. The camp will be ready for occupation on the 5th, and the shooting will commence on the following Monday. Many circumstances have combined to make one look forward to the ensuing campaign as one having more than ordinary attraction. The Belgians will undoubtedly lend an additional lustre and relish to the hospitalities and festivities of camp-life this year. Your Bohemian anticipates with considerable pleasure spending a few days under canvas during the visit of the illus trious foreigners. The Henley Regatta, which is, undoubtedly, the pleasantest rowing match of the year, takes place on the 3rd and 4th. If the weather is fine, there are few things plea santer than the sight of this aquatic contest' Whether you drive over in a carriage, and take up your position on the picturesque bridge, whiling away the time between the races in partaking of an unexceptionable luncheon, exhumed from the depths of certain mysterious baskets by John the footman, and endeavouring to catch glimpses of the rival crews through billows of diaphanous muslins; whether you habit yourself in faultless morning attire and spotless gloves to flaner in the Red Lion Gardens, or on the grand stand; whether you don a full suit of flannels, and, accompanied by sundry stalwart companions, row up in your own boat; or whether you adopt the more expeditious but more ignominious way of the rail, and are shot out with a shoal of other people in time for the first race, you are sure to enjoy yourself. The scenery at Henley is so lovely, the rowing-course is so wide and open, and the whole affair is so like a gigantic pic-nic, being quiet and select as compared with other festivals of a similar nature, that it has a distinct character of its own which makes it unique. A great novelty this year will be the canoe-race over land and water, open to all gentlemenamateurs. The annual fete of the Royal Dramatic College will take place at the Crystal Palace on the 13th and 15th. It is said that there will be great attractions of an unusual nature provided for the entertainment of visitors. It is sincerely to be hoped the young ladies attired as jockeys will not appear there this year; nor does anyone want to see the music-hall celebrities, who appeared in what was called a "Hall of Merry Momus" last year. We never felt so convinced that Momus was a most melancholy individual as on that occasion. The 'Great' Horsecollar, the Jolly' Mute, the 'Fascinating' Mrs. Leery, and the legion of 'Serio-comic' young ladies, with unmusical voices and shortest possible petticoats, do not, to our thinking, in any way add to the attractions, and are manifestly out of their place at a fete in aid of a charity which has to do with the drama and nothing else. It is said that the Dramatic Annual will be unusually good. In addition to the somewhat lengthy list of names of last year are several which will prove a still greater attraction. Amongst these may be mentioned the names of Miss Braddon, Mr. Charles Reade, and Mr. W. G. Wells. This pleasing little brochure will be, as usual, under the able editorship of Mr. Benjamin Webster, jun., B.A. Messrs. Spiers and Pond, the mention of whose name is indicative of novelty and success, will open their charming little place of maritime resort and amusement, the "Hall by the Sea," on the day this article is in the hands of the public. This popular place of amusement has been entirely renovated and re-decorated; important alterations and improvements have been made, especially with regard to the acoustical properties of the building: a large acoustic shell has been constructed, by means of which the capabilities of the hall for sound have been greatly improved. Mdlle. Liebhart, Miss Julia | favour. Miss Nelly Moore was very charming Derby, and Mr. George Perren have been en- as Mabel, though she seems to be somewhat gaged. Mr. Charles Hall, so well known as out-of-place in melodrama, and we miss her the musical director at the Princess's Theatre, sunny face and sweet manners from the comewill officiate as chef d'orchestre; whilst the dies at the Haymarket, where she was so great indefatigable Mr. Hingston will fill the post of an attraction. manager, with his accustomed efficiency and urbanity. Perhaps the great novelty of the past month in the theatrical world was the production of Mr. Charles Reade's drama, "Dora," founded on the Laureate's poem. The first act is certainly the strongest point of the drama; for towards the close of the piece the interest decidedly seems to flag. Miss Kate Terry played the part of Dora very charmingly, though we have certainly seen her in characters we have liked better. Mr. H. Neville played Farmer Allan with an obstinacy and a "pig-headedness" which was most characteristic of the ignorant, unforgiving old agriculturist. Mr. Ashley and Mr. Billington creditably filled the rôles of William and Luke Blomfield, whilst Miss Hughes showed a marked improvement in her rendering of Mary Morrison. The erratic and mysterious behaviour of the sun, in the last scene, which caused much amusement on the first night, has since been rectified, and sets "every evening until further notice," with a due regard to propriety and the feelings of the audience. A farce by Mr. Maddison Morton, with a most obscure plot, has been introduced at this house. Mr. Clarke makes the most of a wretched part. When are we to see this admirable comedian again in a part worthy of his powers? Mr. Tom Taylor's "Antipodes," produced at the Holborn Theatre, despite the fuss made about it, and notwithstanding the efforts of a considerable claque, who applauded every other sentence in that heartless, persistent, metallic manner which only can emanate from a claqueur, was anything but a success. It is needless to go into the plot, which was of a most complicated and unlikely description. It seemed to be composed of misty recollections of other dramas pitchforked together, without rhyme or reason. The great features in the play were Mrs. G. F. Watts and Mr. Sam Emery-the former looked charming in a very poor part, and the latter made all he possibly could of one that was worse. Some of the scenery was good, and the piece was carefully and elaborately mounted. We agree with the accomplished critic of the Times, when he says: "After much revolvershooting of which a fearful massacre of supernumeraries is the consequence, the right people are saved and the audience are liberated from the contemplation of a dreary, complicated, uninteresting story, which has made them regret that the word "Antipodes' is only the name of the piece and does not indicate the place at which it is performed." "True to the Core" has migrated from the Surrey side to the Princess's, where, thanks to the magnificent scenery by Mr. Lloyd, and the admirable way in which it is acted, it seems to be in a fair way of enjoying a second run in public It is said Miss Madge Robertson has accepted an engagement in Mr. Buckstone's company. An adaptation of a French piece, "Les Domestiques," has been brought out at the Strand, under the title of "Our Domestics." It somewhat reminds one of that admirable farce "High-life below Stairs," on which it is said the original French piece was founded. This amusing trifle is the work of Mr. F. Hay, and in it Mr. T. Thorne, Miss E. Johnstone, Mrs. Manders, Mr. D. James, and Mr. Parselle combine to keep the house in a continual roar of merriment. At the Olympic, "Woodcock's Little Game" (revived for Mr. Charles Mathews' benefit) has kept its place in the bills ever since, drawing crowded houses with the ever-popular revival of "The Liar." At the St. James's, a company under the direction of M. Raphael Felix are performing a selection of French plays. No one should omit going to see the inimitable Ravel. Mr. Howe, the gentlemanly and accomplished actor, so long connected with the Haymarket, has been seriously indisposed; so much so that he was unable to play for a week. We are glad to say that he has now recovered, and is once more at his post. Mr. William Farren has seceded from the Haymarket company, with which he had been connected for many years. Mr. Belmore has entered into an engagement with Mr. Webster, and will shortly make an appearance at the Adelphi. The first number of a new sixpenny magazine, The Broadway, will be published in August, by Messrs. Routledge. It will be edited by Mr. Edmund Routledge, who has secured an immense quantity of names of high repute on his staff. The author of "Guy Livingstone" will write the leading novel. A new theatrical paper, called the Sock and Buskin, but which seems scarcely composed of the proper elements for such a publication, has made its appearance; and a Conservative weekly, the British Lion, will be before the public as soon as these pages are. The Hawk, a monthly feuilleton to which we have already alluded, seems to continue its career with considerable success. Though its circulation is necessarily limited, on account of its interest being local, we are told it is greatly in request in those counties of which it is the organ, namely Dorset and Wilts. An amateur performance of no ordinary kind, in the cause of charity, will be given at the Haymarket Theatre, early in July, by the principal contributors to Fun and some of their friends. A comedy, supported by professional talent, with a new burlesque, written and acted by some of the well-known writers of the day, will be amongst the chief attractions. YOUR BOHEMIAN, |