(_Gazes mournfully at her unstrung harp, and, smitten by another reminiscence, sings plaintively_):-- AIR--"_The harp that once through Tara(ra)'s Halls._" The harp that once through Music Halls Sheer maddening rapture shed, Now hangs as mute on willow-walls As though that Boom were dead. So dims the pride of former days, So fame's fine thrill is o'er, And throngs who once yelled high with praise, Now find the Boom a bore. No more to toffs and totties bright Thy tones, "Ta-ra-ra" swell. The gloom that hailed my turn to-night Sad tales of "staleness" tell. The Chorus now will seldom wake, The old mad cheers who gives? And LOTTIE some new ground must break To prove that still she lives. _She harketh back to the old strain:--_ What would you do now if distant tidings, Thy fame's confidings should undermine,-- Of some "Star" abiding 'neath other skies, In the public eyes yet more bright than thine? Oh, name it not! 'Twould bring shade and shame On my new-made name, and it can't be true. This far fame of mine, did some rival share it, I could not bear it--what _would_ I do? What would you do, now, if home returning, With anger burning at the fickle crew, You found the prospect of another Boom, To dispel your gloom--ah! what would you do? Why then by Ta-Ra, I'd bless the morrow And banish sorrow, and raise my "screw." I'd re-string this Harp hung no more on the willow, And with tears my pillow no more bedew. * * * * * TO BE, OR NOT TO BE--DISCOVERED! SCENE--_A Borough._ TIME--_Within measurable distance of the General Election. Enter BROWN and JONES._ _Brown._ Well JONES, I am glad to hear that you purpose standing for Parliament. You are a first-class man, and the House will be all the better for having your assistance. _Jones._ You are mistaken, my dear BROWN. I did intend to stand for Parliament, but since the Archbishop has published his letter, I have determined to retire from the contest. _Brown._ What nonsense! Why I, as you know, have been in the House for years and I assure you I have never met a more suitable man for the place. Why, my dear JONES, you are absolutely cut out for Parliament--absolutely cut out for it! _Jones_ (_sadly_). I wish I could think so. But alas, no, after the Archbishop's letter, I must, I will give it up. _Brown._ Have you not made the question of the Criminal Code your own? _Jones._ Yes, but I must admit (and I make the admission with shame) that years ago at school I was rightly accused of stealing apples. _Brown._ And was the accusation believed--were you punished? _Jones_ (_struggling with his emotion_). Alas! it was, and I received (from the Bench) a severe reprimand. It brings the red blood into my cheeks--a severe reprimand! _Brown_. Then you know all about the Libel Acts,--you are up in a slander?