Then I could dote on a red melodrama, Now I demand but limelight on Philosophy, Learned allusions to Buddha and Brahma, Science and Faith and a touch of Theosophy. Farces I slate, on Burlesque I am scathing, Pantomime shakes for a week my serenity; Nothing restores my composure but bathing Deep in Ibsenity. Actors were Gods to my boyish devotion, Actresses angels--in tights and low bodices; Drowned is that pretty and puerile notion, Thrown overboard in the first of my Odysseys. Syrens may sing submarine fascinations, Adult Ulysses remain analytical, Flat notes recording, or reedy vibrations, Tranquilly critical. Here in the stalls we are stiff as if starch, meant Only for shirt-fronts, to faces had mounted up; Dowagers' wills may be read on their parchment, Beautiful busts on your thumbs may be counted up. Girls in the pit are remarkably rosy, Each claspt by lover who passes the paper-bag; Here I can't even, the girls are so prosy, One digit taper bag. Yet could I sit in the pit of the Surrey, Munching an orange or spooning with 'Arriet; Sadly I fear I should be in no hurry Backward to drive my existence's chariot. "Squeezes" are ill compensated by crushes-- Stalls may be dull, but they're jolly luxurious; Really the way o'er past joys we can gush is Awfully curious! Life is a chaos of comic confusion, Past things alone take a halo harmonious; So from illusion we wake to illusion, Each as the rest just as true and erroneous. _Fin de siècle_ I am, and so be it! Here's to the problems of sad sociology! This is my weird,--like a man I must dree it, Great is chronology! Even so, once the great drama allured me, Which we all play on the stage universal; "Going behind" the "green" curtain has cured me. All my hope now is 'tis not a _rehearsal_. Still I've played on; to old men's parts I grew from Juvenile lead, as I'd risen from small-boy, So I'll play on till I get my last cue from Death, the old call-boy. "Hum! Not at all bad," concluded Lord Silverdale. "I wonder who wrote it." CHAPTER XV. THE MYSTERIOUS ADVERTISER. "JUNIOR WIDOWS' CLUB. "_Midnight._ "DEAR MISS DULCIMER,