352 NOTES OF THR MONTH. 



THE ADELPHI continues its course of fun without any other check 

 than that foe to side-shakers,, the Bishop of London. In Lent, of 

 course, we shall not be allowed to laugh ; but must sigh in our chim- 

 ney corner, and eat salt-fish a devotional exercise not of the most 

 palateable order. 



In the interval, Buckstone promises successful pieces. The theatre 

 is as full and as hot as ever the audience laugh, so do the managers. 



We were sorry to hear of a little fracas or misunderstanding at this 

 theatre the other day. As it has been already mystified by various 

 accounts, it is the duty of commentators to clear it up. It appears 

 that some jealous pated scandal-loving noodle had been whispering 

 abroad, that the beautiful Pscyhe of the Adelphi had found a Cupid, 

 and, who, in the name of all that's chaste, did this chuckling salaci- 

 ous eves-dropper think fit to identify as the urchin god, but Mr. 

 Manager Yates ! Knowing the man as we do, the conceit so tickled 

 us, that for a full half-hour we believed the pen in our hand was a 

 feather from the manager's wing ! Of course, we need not say the 

 whole was an invention ; but the absurdity was an irresistible pro- 

 vocative to laughter. Imagine a respectable gentleman of a certain 

 age which our friend Yates is for many years the revered head 

 of an establishment, celebrated among its contemporaries for that 

 highly moral tone by which it is characterized, acquired solely by 

 the precepts and example of the proprietor we may say, the father 

 of that establishment a man whom every female is proud to acknow- 

 ledge, whether as superior or friend a man whom every father and 

 husband is delighted, if he can but obtain for the object of his in- 

 terest his friendly care so virtuous a man, that is he not unfrequently 

 the subject of raillery, and a man too, (we are rejoiced to bear such 

 testimony of the strictest piety !) We began lightly, but the subject 

 is really serious ; which of us is safe when poor Yates is attacked ? We 

 will venture to say the bare insinuation has cost him greater pain 

 than the attested fact would to ourselves. Were Mrs. Honey a young 

 creature of any attraction were her eyes dark and languishing, were 

 her tresses rich and luxuriant, were her smile fascinating as love, 

 could her delicately round and sylph-like form soften the obdurate 

 and anti-play-going heart of the Bishop of London, then indeed 

 But has not Yates been in the seductive society of Mrs. C. Jones and 

 Mrs. Glover? and has the breath of scandal ever been breathed upon 

 them? Now, gentle reader, this is the fact on which this silly 

 report has been founded judge for yourself. The husband of the 

 lady in question, more hasty than wise, fancying some cause of com- 

 plaint against his fairer half, rashly and rudely intimated his dis- 

 pleasure. The manager, with virtuous indignation, gave him a dig 

 in the eye, and kicked him down stairs; thus the unfortunate gentle- 

 man, who came to seek his Honey, got nothing but whacks I 



FRIAR'S BALSAM. Monck Mason. The late lessee of the King's 

 Theatre has made his appearance in a character, which all who were 

 acquainted with the hazardous nature of his speculation, had fully 

 calculated upon as his finale. The audience he had to please on this 



