MARLBOROUGH COLLEGE. 27 



with weapons which looked Hke biUiard cues, but as they were 

 made of paper, what appeared tremendous blows could be inflicted 

 without much damage being done. The fight went on so long as 

 the paper held together, and then amid vociferous cheering, the 

 so-called play was over. 



But whatever it may be called, it was so decided a success that it 

 was determined to put upon the stage something more elaborate and 

 better. Tickets, price fourpence each, were accordingly issued to 

 cover expenses, and a fearful Tragedy, aided by three clowns, was 

 forthwith set in motion, and in due time placed upon the stage. 



The spectators were disappointed, for the play was very dull. 

 Even the three clowns, to whom we looked for fun, were melancholy 

 exasperating fellows, who imbibing from the atmosphere around, 

 the curious notion that rudeness is synonymous with wit, confined 

 themselves chiefly to grimacing, and springing, monkey-fashion, at 

 the gas lamps overhead. Occasionally they would hurl opprobrious 

 epithets, of the cqni te esse feri similem dico * order at each other's 

 heads, or long false ears, a style of wit at which only old Horace, 

 or the friends of Peter Magnus, could possibly have smiled. 



The author of the play, whoever he may have been, like Churchill, 

 was "a barren rascal,"! for even the most lively imagination could 

 not discover what it was all about. The Hero, chosen for his 

 supposed distingue air, strutted about the stage, clad in a velvet 

 suit, and slouched hat, surmounted with an ostrich feather, which 

 no doubt absorbed most of our entrance money, and as he 

 turned his back upon us nearly all the time, we could only catch 

 here and there a word he said. At length he threw upon a table a 

 dagger and a rope, but whether these were to polish off himself or 

 someone else was left involved in doubt and mystery. 



The Heroine was an effeminate-looking lad, clad in the fearful 

 petticoats of those days, and to her belonged the credit of raising 

 a solitary laugh, for treading on a paper rose, she picked it up, and 



Allow me to tell you, Sir, that I regard you as little better than a mad jackass, 

 t I have only the authority of Dr. Johnson for supposing that Churchill was " a barren rascal." 



