Life — March 20, 1884 — page 6: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

160 The Poet of the Sierras has recently been one of the picturesque features of Washington Society. Perhaps he may be induced to engage in the Spring white- washing also. Mr. Henry T. Finck, the musical critic of the Evening Post, has prepared with great care a “Wagner Hand-Book,” designed especially for the pleasure and instruction of those who expect to attend the coming Wagner Concerts in this and other cities. It contains biographical and critical notices of the leading artists who will take part in these concerts, with analytical programmes, critical reviews and rhapsodies on Wagner. “There is but one Wagner and Finck is his prophet.” The Appletons have published a beau- tiful edition of the “ Vicar of Wakefield,” with an in- troduction by Austin Dobson, in their neat and rich Parchment Library. “Hans Breitmann’s Ballads ” have at last been collected in one volume, and adorned with full gilt edges and stamped sides. Drocu. CLORINDA. \ \ J HEN Lent to revels put the check, Clorinda sought religious rest ; Yawned just a trifle, and confessed : “«T’m nearly, dear, a total wreck.” But now, to windward of flirtation, She skims away from dangerous ground, And, thro’ the Graces, thus has found Relief from total recreation. BARON TENNYSON’S ROBES STOLEN. Lonpon, March 12.—Baron Tennyson took his seat in the House of Lords last evening. He was compelled to borrow robes of Lord Coleridge, his own having been recently stolen.— 7ribune. THE real age of a politician, is patronage. Home, Sweet Home.—A refuge for regrets. *- LIFE: MYSTIC MEANDERINGS. BY HER ROYAL NIBS. AN. 1st—This is the first day of the year and Beatrice reminds me it is New Year’s Day. What a beautiful coincidence! We had cream toast and muffins for breakfast and I had two helps to each. Brown said he was delighted to see my old appetite for muffins returning. Jan. 2nd.—It is snowing. Brown said that the snow was beautiful. It is. Beatrice says that some poet once expressed the same opinion. I will ask Mr. Tennyson about it. Brown came up at two o’clock to announce Mr. Gladstone, who wanted to see me about some horrid affair in Egypt or somewhere. Sent down word I was out. Am very busy knitting a pair of ear muffs for the Duke of Connaught and have n’t time to bother about Egypt. Brown says that Egypt is old enough to take care of itself. * * * March 8th.—Brown has a cold. I made him four mustard plasters, which were applied by the Royal College of Surgeons. He is better. I ordered Dean Stanley to sing a Te Deum. He sent back word that, personally, he would prefer to whistle it. Wanted Mr. Tennyson likewise to change Locksley Hall so as to bring Brown in. He replied that he would be de- lighted to, but the only rhymes he could find for Brown were syntax, delirium and meningitis, and he did n’t think any of these would do. March 20th.—Brown says it is raining. Mr. Glad- stone called. I was not at home. .I do wish Albert Edward would n’t worry me so with free tickets to American theatricals. It is frugal, but the boy will drive me wild yet. Brown says, however, that he will outgrow all these freaks. I trust Brown is right. March 21st—Brown got wet to-day, standing out in the rain telling Mr. Gladstone that I could n’t-see him. I do not see why I am to be bothered about those wars in India and Egypt and other horrid affairs. Beatrice has a pet kitten of which we are all of us very fond. I must really get Mr. Tennyson to write a poem about it. * * April 1st—Brown came in this morning with a large placard on his back, which bore the initials “ N. G.” When I called his attention to it he was real angry, and said he supposed it was done by the Prime Min- ister or somebody. I shall ask Mr. Gladstone about it. The cat had a fit this morning, which quite upset us all, The College of Surgeons was in attendance, and said it was meat. Brown says it is likely to die if it had more than a dozen. Dear me! April 10th—I sent for Brown, and read him this journal for a year. He sat with closed eyes, nodding his head whenever I came to a favorite passage. He then said that he did not think any distinguished woman had ever written anything like it. I chided Brown for flattery, but he assured me it was honest truth. I will read it to Mr. Gladstone. comicbooks.com