Many actors who have risen to celebrity began their course with him: Kean, first as outside and inside tumbling boy, and afterwards as a lending tragedian, with a salary of five shillings a day; Oxberry, Mitchell, Walbourn, and Sanders, A. Slader, Thwaites, Vaughan, S. Faucett, &c. were introduced to the public under his auspices. Who now shall open the gates of the temple to dramatic fame? The Janitor is gone for ever. A hearse is the last omnibus, after all. A hearse is the end of the showman's caravans, and the sexton is the last toll-collector he encounters in this world. John Richardson, FAREWELL! PADDY BLAKE'S ECHO. A NEW VERSION FROM THE ORIGINAL IRISH. "_Ecco_ ridente," &c. I. There's a spot by that lake, sirs, Where echoes were born, Where one Paddy Blake, sirs, Was walking one morn With a great curiosity big in his mind! Says he, "Mrs. Blake Doesn't _trate_ me of late In the fashion she did When I first call'd her Kate: She's crusty and surly,-- My cabin's the _dhiaoul_, My pigs and my poultry Are all cheek by jowl; But what is the cause, from the _A_cho I'll find." (_Spoken._) So up he goes _bouldly_ to the _A_cho, and says, "The top o' the mornin' t'ye, Misther or Missus _A_cho, for divil a know I know whether ye wear petticoats or breeches." "Neither," says the _A_cho in Irish. "Now, that being the case," says Paddy, turnin' sharp 'pon the _A_cho, d'ye see, "ye can tell me the stark-naked truth." "'Troth, an' ye may say that, with yir own purty mouth," says the _A_cho. "Well, thin," says Paddy agin, "what the divil's come over Mrs. Blake of late?" "_Potcheen!_" says the _A_cho. "Oh! (_shouting_) by the pow'rs of Moll Kelly," says Paddy, "I thought as mich:-- "It wasn't for nothin' the taypot was hid, Though I guess'd what was in it, by smelling the lid!" II. There's another suspicion Comes over my mind, That with all this _contrition_ And pray'rs, and that kind, Ould Father Mahony's a wag in his way. When a _station_, he says, Will be held at _my_ house, _I_ must go my ways, Or be mute as a mouse. For _him_ turkey and bacon Is pull'd from the shelf; Not so much as a cake on The coals for myself: But what all this _manes_, why, the _A_cho will say. (_Spoken._) Up he goes agin to the _A_cho, and says, "Tell me, aff ye plase, what is't brings ould Father Mahony so everlastingly to my country seat in the bog of Bally Keeran?" "Mrs. Blake!" says the _A_cho. "Oh! hannimandhiaoul!" says Paddy, "I thought as mich--the thief o' the world--I thought as mich. Oh! tundher-a-nouns!