For the best parts of the first two Acts, then; for Miss LOTTIE VENNE'S voice; above all, for Mr. A. W. BASKCOMB'S face, _My Aunt_ is worth while. As _Aubrey Braxton_ Mr. BASKCOMB--the never-to-be-forgotten _Slightly_ of so many Christmasses--goes through all the many troubles of a hero of farce with his own inimitable air of hopeless resignation. I hope that his efforts will not be unrewarded, and that the management will find that, without rivalling the success of that other aunt, Charley's, they will yet for some time be able to play to good "business as usual." M. * * * * * MR. PUNCH'S HOLIDAY STORIES. III.--THE FIGHT OF THE CENTURY. (Concluded.) [_SYNOPSIS OF PRECEDING INSTALMENT:--The great boxing boom is at its height. A fight arranged between Smasher Mike and the famous heavyweight champion. Mauler Mills, is arousing intense excitement throughout the country. Nothing whatever is known of the Smasher, and the betting is therefore 100 to 1 against him. Young Lord Tamerton is at this time in desperate financial straits. His bosom friend, Ralph Wonderson, who is in love with his sister, the beautiful Lady Margaret Tamerton, prevails upon him to wager heavily on Smasher Mike, and undertakes to put him in the way of obtaining a loan of L5,000 for this purpose. Their conversation is overheard by an agent of Sir Ernest Scrivener,_ alias _Marmaduke Moorsdyke, who is the mortal enemy of Wonderson and is plotting to get Lady Margaret Tamerton in his power._] The vast area of Corinthia was crammed with eager spectators, whose eyes were concentrated with feverish intensity on the raised platform in the centre of the hall. In the seats near the ring, for each of which a hundred guineas had been charged, sat the cream of Britain's aristocracy, including Lord Tamerton and Lady Margaret Tamerton, for whom two tickets in a plain envelope had been left that morning. At last the preliminaries came to an end and Smasher Mike, clad in a claret-coloured dressing-gown with yellow facings, crawled through the ropes and went to his corner. As he raised his face to the lights a murmur of amazement ran through the hall. "_It's Ralph Wonderson!_" Lady Margaret gripped her brother's arm till the perspiration stood out on his forehead. "_It's Ralph Wonderson!_" The whisper passed from lip to lip, merging presently into a burst of cheering as Mauler Mills scrambled up to the platform, wearing an electric-blue dressing-gown with green facings and pink sash. Ralph sat motionless in his corner, watching his gigantic adversary with a pleasant smile and softly whistling the air of a popular song. At length the referee leisurely entered the ring. As he did so, Ralph gave a violent start and Lady Margaret gripped her brother's arm till his teeth chattered. _The referee was not the popular Algernon Mittens, as had been announced, but Sir Ernest Scrivener!_