find in a "penny gaff" nearer home. Our attendant, on leaving, advised us to bolt the door inside. The reason for the precaution was soon evident, for the ladies whose presence was not needed on the stage at the time, in pursuance, it would seem, of the recognised custom at the Theatre Comique, came thundering at the door, and were only appeased by economical libations of beer--and so we escaped to Kennard House, and to bed. Early in the forenoon (April 19th), before we had well done breakfast, the Mayor, Mr. Herrick, Messrs. Mason, Stone, Wade, Colonel Wilson, and a goodly company of Cleveland citizens of repute, called on the Duke to take him and those of the party who were so minded to visit the oil-works, elevators, and the city generally, to drive up Euclid Avenue, and inspect one or two of the fine houses of which they were with reason proud. The Mayor had evidently something on his mind--he had the air of a man with a care of State affecting him--and after a time the truth was known. His Worship, or His Honour, was as well informed as a Sous-Préfet or a Commissaire of Bureau III.--a very Howard Vincent--and he had heard of our visit to the theatre, and was anxious to explain that it was not one of the regular orthodox Temples of Thespis; that, in fact, it was a blot on the purity of Cleveland, and on the powers of the executive. But "the Forest City," as Cleveland is termed, can tolerate a great deal of imputation, and yet lift up its head proudly as a beautiful and almost unique creation of the American genius--the fairy who turns turnips into coaches and four, mice into _valets de place_, and dreary marshes into the sites of noble towns, replete with all the developments of the most refined civilisation (in which, however, I do not include our magnificent muscular Classical but Christian athlete Muldoon and the reprobate theatre we had visited). The Cleveland papers were not all very civil--some of them, indeed, were not only uncivil, but untruthful in their accounts of the Duke's party. There were "imaginary conversations" reported, that in all but wit and interest would have done credit to Walter Savage Landor. At the beginning of this century there were but a few wooden houses to justify the selection of the site of a city laid out in 1794. Fifty years ago there were 1000 souls in Cleveland. But the Canal opened to it the fountains of life, and there are now about 170,000 people in this handsome, well-to-do city.