vol II date / index
S. Eusebius, 3rd Cent. St. Eusebius, Priest.
It is stated in The Times, on the authority of an "Evening Paper," that two beautiful old trees in Nottingham park during the hot weather (of July and August, 1825,) shed all their leaves, and were as completely stripped as they are usually in November. Their appearance afterwards was more surprising. Wet weather came, they put forth new leaves and were as fully clothed in August as they were before the long season of the dry hot weather.
THE WITHERED LEAF.
Sever'd from thy slender stalk,
Wither'd wand'rer! knowest thou?
Would'st thou tell, if leaves might talk,
Whence thou art?—Where goest thou?
Nothing know I!—tempests' strife
From the proud oak tore me;
Broke my every tie to life,
Whelm'd the tree that bore me.
Zephyr's fickle breath,—the blast
From the northern ocean,
Since that day my lot have cast
By their varying motion.
From the mountain's breezy height
To the silent valley,
From the forest's darksome night
To the plain I sally.
Wheresoever wafts the wind,
Restless flight constraining,
There I wander unconfin'd,
On I go—where all beside
Like myself are going;
Where oblivion's dreamless tide
Silently is flowing.
There like beauty, frail and brief,
Fades the pride of roses;
There the laurel's honour'd leaf—
Sear[']d and scorn'd [—] reposes.
About the middle of August, the viper brings forth her young. She produces from twelve to twenty-five eggs, from which, when hatched, her offspring come forth nearly of the size of earthworms.* 
Elegant Zinnia. Zinnia elegans.
Dedicated to St. Eusebius.
"He gives me the motions." Shakspeare.
Mr. George Cruikshank's pencil has been put in requisition for a fantoccini, and his drawing, engraved by Mr. Henry White, appears above.
This exhibition took place in a street at Pentonville, during the present month, 1825. Its coming was announced by a man playing the Pan-pipes, or "mouth-organ," which he accompanied by beating the long drum; after him followed the theatre, consisting of a square frame-work about ten feet high, boarded in front, and painted as represented in the print, carried by a man within the frame; the theatrical properties were in a box strapped on the inside towards the bottom. The musician was preceded by a foreign-looking personage—the manager. As soon as he had fixed on a station he deemed eligible, the trio stopped, the theatre was on its legs in a minute, and some green baize furled towards the top of each side, and at the back, was let down by the manager himself, who got within the frame and thus concealed himself. The band of two instruments was set in motion by its performer, who took his station on one side, and the carrier of the theatre assuming the important office of money collector. "Come ladies and gentlemen," he said, "we can't begin without you encourage us—some money if you please—please to remember what you are going to see!" Boys came running in from the fields, women with children got "good places," windows were thrown up and well filled, the drummer beat and blew away lustily, the audience increased every minute, a collection was made, and the green curtain at length drew up, and discovered a stage also lined with green cloth at the top, bottom, and sides. In about a minute the tune altered, and the show began.
Scene 1. A jolly-looking puppet performed the tricks of a tumbler and posture master with a hoop.
Scene 2. The money taker called out, "This is the representation of a skeleton." The music played solemnly, and the puppet skeleton came slowly through a trap door in the floor of the stage; its under jaw chattered against the upper, it threw its arms up mournfully, till it was fairly above ground, and then commenced a "grave" dance. On a sudden its head dropped off, the limbs separated from the trunk in a moment, and the head moved about the floor, chattering, till it resumed its place together with the limbs, and in an instant danced as before; its efforts appeared gradually to decline, and at last it sank into a sitting posture, and remained still. Then it held down its skull, elevated its arms, let them fall on the ground several times dolorously; fell to pieces again; again the head moved about the stage and chattered; again it resumed its place, the limbs reunited, and the figure danced till the head fell off with a gasp; the limbs flew still further apart; all was quiet; the head made one move only towards the body, fell sideways, and the whole re-descended to a dirge-like tune. Thus ended the second scene.
Scene 3. This scene was delayed for the collector again to come round with his hat:—"You can't expect us to show you all for what you've given. Money if you please; money; we want your money!" As soon as he had extracted the last extractable halfpenny, the curtain drew up, and — enter a clown without a head, who danced till his head came from between his shoulders to the wonder of the children, and, almost to their alarm, was elevated on a neck the full length of his body, which it thrust out ever and anon; after presenting greater contortions than the human figure could possibly represent, the curtain fell the third time.
Scene 4. Another delay of the curtain for another collection, "We have four and twenty scenes," said the collector, "and if you are not liberal we can't show 'em all—we must go." This extorted something more, and one person at a window, who had sent three-pence from a house where other money had been given, now sent out a shilling, with a request that "all" might be exhibited. The showman promised, the curtain drew up, and another puppet-tumbler appeared with a pole which, being placed laterally on the back of two baby-house chairs, he balanced himself on it, stood heels upwards upon it, took the chairs up by it, balanced them on each end of it, and down fell the curtain.
Scene 5. A puppet sailor danced a hornpipe.
Scene 6. A puppet Indian juggler threw balls.
Scene 7. Before the curtain drew up the collector said, "This is the representation of Billy Waters, Esq." and a puppet, Billy Waters, appeared with a wooden leg, and danced to the sound of his fiddle for a minute or two when the curtain dropped, and the manager and performers went off with their theatre, leaving the remaining seventeen scenes, if they had them, unrepresented. On the show was painted, "Candler's Fantoccini, patronised by the Royal Family." Our old acquaintance, "Punch," will survive all this.
Notes [all notes are Hone's unless otherwise indicated]:
1. Aikin's Nat. Hist. of the Year. [return]