I don't know whether it was droller to watch the brats murder Shakespeare, or the marked interest taken in the performance by Lady Beatrice, the matron, and some of the patronesses. Shylock was too absurd; he was about ten and wore a funny little goatee. He nor any of the others understood a word of what they were saying; they had learnt it by heart like the alphabet, and recited it in shrill sing-song. When Master Shylock called for the scales, they brought him a pair such as you see in doll's houses, and when he sharpened his little knife, Lady Beatrice's "little dears" stood up in their seats with excitement and squeaked like a lot of guinea-pigs. But even more comical than the children mouthing Shakespeare was the fact of the stage-manager of a London theatre, that Lady Beatrice has had down once a week for the last two months to coach the little actors, coming before the curtain and making a speech, in which he told a lie that was so big I should have thought he would have been afraid he would be struck down like Ananias. He had the cheek to tell us that the Shylock with the goatee and the doll's scales was an undeveloped Roscius--and Lady Beatrice and the matron believed him. The matron told me that Shakespeare was such a refining influence and that the children were so much improved by his plays, and she was quite horrified when I replied I thought a pantomime would do them more good. After the performance the "little dears" sat down at long tables and devoured apples and buns, and squeaked like guinea-pigs. Lady Beatrice said it was a huge success, and that they would try, "As You Like It," next year. When Mr. Parker said that Britons as a race had no sense of humour Lady Beatrice should have told him to go with me to see her "little dears" interpret Shakespeare. I am sure he would have changed his mind.--Your dearest Mamma. LETTER XXVII MONK'S FOLLY, 11th November DARLING ELIZABETH: {_The Doraines_}