tradesmen had great obstacles to contend with ere they could obtain an interview: but she, with the spirit of a heroine, burst into the inmost recess of his " prison house," and when arrived at the royal hall, she was determined to preserve her character-for, at the awful tones of Mossop, she, Andromache-like, was prostrate at the feet of the royal master, and uttered forth in doleful tragedy." Oh! sir, for God's sake, assist me; I have not bread to eat, I am actually starving, and shall be turned out into the streets." Mossor. (in state)-" Wo-man! you have five pounds per week, wo-man." MRS. BURDEN, "True, sir, but I have been in Dublin six months, and in all that time have only received six pounds. I call every Saturday at the office for my salary, but " no money" is the answer: besides, sir, your credit and your honor are at stake.-How can I play Andromache, the Trojan Queen, without black shoes?" Mossop." Wo-man, begone! I insist on your having black satin shoes for Androm-a-che. And, wo-man, if you dare ask me for money again, I will forfeit you ten pounds, wo-man."

So ended this real tragical scene of penury and of pomposity.

THE BEGGARS' OPERA TRAVESTIED.

In the year 1780, Mr. Colman had recourse to a most whimsical and indecent mode of attracting visitors to his theatre in the Haymarket, viz. by travestying "the Beggars' Opera;" that is, by putting all the female performers in the male parts, and vice versa.

AN ORIGINAL ATTRACTION.

FOOTE, one evening announced, for representation at the Haymarket theatre, "The Fair Penitent to be performed for that night only, by a black lady, of great accomplishments.

PIRON'S EPITAPH.

PIRON, a celebrated French Dramatist, wished to become an Academician. The Society, after mature consideration, refused to admit him into their school. Mortified at their denial, he wrote this epitaph, to be engraved on his tomb.

"Ci gît Piron, qui ne fut rien,

Pas même Academicien."

Here lies Piron, who was nothing,

Not even an Academician.

FARINELLI, THE SINGER.

IN 1735, his late Majesty's father, then Prince of Wales, made a present of a fine wrought gold

snuff box, richly set with diamonds and rubies, in which was inclosed a pair of diamond knee buckles, as also a purse of one hundred guineas, to the famous Signor Farinelli. Returning to Italy, he raised out of a small part of the sum he had acquired in England, a very superb building, in which he dwelt, and chose to dignify it with the significant appellation of The English Folly.

SPRANGER BARRY.

THIS celebrated actor was, perhaps, in no part so excellent as in that of Romeo, for which he was particularly fitted, by a superiority of demeanor, an uncommonly handsome and commanding person, and a silver-toned voice. At the time that he attracted the town to Covent Garden, by his excellent performance of this part, Garrick found it absolutely necessary to divide the attention of the public, by performing himself at Drury Lane. He wanted the natural advantages of Barry, and, great as he was, would, perhaps, have willingly avoided such a contention. This, at least, seems to have been a prevailing opinion; for in the garden scene, when Juliet in soliloquy exclaims

"

Oh, Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?"

an auditor archly replied aloud-" because Barry is gone to the other house."

PEG FRYER.

THIS extraordinary female was a celebrated actress in the reign of Charles II. and, after a long absence, returned to the stage, merely by way of a visit, in the reign of George I. Charles Medley, Esq. took a farce called The Half-pay Officer, from a tragic comedy of Sir William Davenant, entitled Love and Humour, and prevailed on Mrs. Fryer to take, once more, her original character of, Lady Ricklow, which, being that of an old woman, suited her years. Accordingly, she was thus announced in the bills of Lincoln's Inn Fields Theatre:-"Lady Ricklow, by the famous Peg Fryer, who has not appeared upon the stage these fifty years, and who will dance a jig at the end of the Farce." A few remembered her, and went to the theatre to see an old favourite; but most went out of curiosity to see Mrs. Fryer, then (1720) eighty-five years of age. This extraordinary woman sustained her part with great spirit, and was received with the most gratifying applause. But when she came to dance, she came on the stage, apparently quite exhausted by her exertions, and, scarcely able to support her

self, made her obedience to the audience, and was about to retire, when the orchestra struck up the Irish trot, and the animated old woman danced her promised jig with the nimbleness and vivacity of five-and-twenty, laughing at the surprise of the audience, and receiving unbounded applause.— After this, she kept a tavern and ordinary at Tottenham-court, and her house was continually thronged with company, who went, out of curiosity, to converse with this extraordinary old

woman.

THE FIRST APPEARANCE.

HOWEVER evident the miseries of a début, or first appearance, may seem to appear to the audience, they can comparatively be but little known in their real extent, except to the unhappy débutant himself. A curious incident of this nature is related in "The Journal of a Private Soldier of the 71st regiment," and deserves the serious attention of young candidates for dramatic fame.

The narrator, who was the son of honest and respectable, though not very opulent parents, in the Scottish capital, became discontented with his parental home, in consequence of a decline of circumstances and they being incapacitated from continuing those indulgences to which he