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Beautiful! Magnifique! Our DRURIOLANUS is surpassing even the G.O.M., who has been born, more or less, everywhere, except in Paris. Should the Republic be in danger, or should Monarchists or Imperialists get a chance and want a man for the place, let them wire to DRURIOLANUS, "

The international susceptibilities of Sheriff DRURIOLANUS henceforth to bear the Anglo-French title, Monsieur le Shérif 'Arris de Paris, or 'Arry de Parry, appear to have been considerably hurt by a statement in the Débats to the effect that the appearance in the London streets of men dressed as Gendarmes "en gendarmes français," writes MOSSOO DRURIOLANE intended as perambulating advertisements for the Waterloo Panorama, was due to a supreme effort of his managerial genius. So Shérif DRURIOLANE wrote at once to the London Correspondent of the Figaro, who bears the singularly French name of JOHNSON, denying, in his very best French, that he, M. le Shérif, had had anything to do with these walking advertisements, or, indeed, with the Panorama Company at all, from which he had retired a year ago. Then he adds, like the preux chevalier he is known to be, that had he still been on the direction of the aforesaid Compagnie, he, at all events, would never, never have committed the enormity of even suggesting, however vaguely, an idea so calculated to needlessly insult "les susceptibilités françaises." ("Hear! hear!" and "Très bien!" from the left.) Then M. le Shérif DRURIOLANE, rising to the occasion, finishes with this magnificent flourish on the French horn "Je suit en France" (Isn't it very much "to his credit," we ask with W.S.G., that, "In spite of all temptations, To belong to other nations, He remains an Englishman?" Why, certainly) "j'ai vécu parmi les Français, et je suis

That indefatigable Showman, Sir DRURIOLANUS, the Invincible Knight, commenced his Winter Operatic Season on Monday, the Tenth, at Covent Garden, so as to be well in advance of Signor LAGO, who may now boast of having La Donna, Her Most Gracious MAJESTY, for his patron. Monday Night. The two RAVOGLIS in good form in the Orféo.

Likewise the Player of the Big Drum made more than one big hit during the evening. "Che farò" was re-demanded. "Tired of 'Faro," quoth Mr. WAGGSTAFF "why not make it 'Whisto, or some other game?" Exit WAGGY. The Intermezzo of Cavalleria Rusticana of course encored enthusiastically. "Signor CREMONNINI," quoth WAGG, returning, "is not half the 'ninny' his name implies." Sir Druriolanus. Tuesday.