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emerged from the barrel after his oleaginous repast, in the act of asking, very naturally, for a drink of water. The offence alleged, I find from a hasty perusal of the resolutions contained in the hand-bill, was simply that this gentieman, whose name appears to have been Oliver, was heard inquiring for Colonel Moore, our well known and respected Ex-Postmaster. My friend Saul Isaacs, who keeps the "anything on this table for a quarter” stand, tells me that on
doffing his cask," the miserable Oliver was found completely bunged up, and that he is now engaged in composing a pathetic ode, describing his sufferings, to be called “ The Barrel," with a few staves of which he favored me on the spot. It was truly touching. But it is needless to ring the chimes farther on this subject. But one side of the story has yet been heard, and as the officers promise a full and complete explanation, it is to be hoped that public opinion may be suspended for a few months, till they can be heard from.
I attended the American Theatre last evening, and had the pleasure of seeing several admirable pieces capitally performed, by the largest and finest assemblage of dramatic talent ever collected on one stage in San Francisco. The occasion was the benefit of the Hebrew Benevolent Society, a very worthy and respectable charity, and the house was absolutely crammed from pit to dome. The aisles and lobbies were thronged with gentlemen who were unable to obtain seats, and who could obtain but hasty and imperfect glimpses of the stage from their uncomfortable positions. Through the kindness of the box-keeper I was furnished with a chair, from which, planted in the middle aisle of the parquette, I had an admirable view of the audience and the drop-curtain. The dress circle was crowded with the fair daughters of Zion and other localities, with silken hair darker than the driven charcoal," and bright eyes that flashed on eyes that shone again.” Above the second circle appeared a dense forest of black whiskers, and curvilinear proboscis; while from the gallery, that paradise of miners and minors, rang as from a dragoon stable the never-ceasing cry of hay! The curtain rose on San Francisco's Petthe accomplished Caroline Chapman—who appeared in one of her favorite pieces, a pretty little burletta, called the "Actress of All Work," in which she sustained, it is needless to say, most admirably, five distinct characters. She was greeted on her first entrance with tremendous and long-continued applause, which followed her throughout the piece, at the conclusion of which she was called before the curtain, when with one of her sweet smiles she sufficiently rewarded the audience for their just appreciation of her talent, and her legion of admirers for the beautiful bouquets which fell around her. To say that she was the “bright particular star” of the evening's entertainment, would perhaps appear invidious; but for pure, fresh, natural acting, ever-graceful, sparkling, and all-pretty as she appeared, she certainly could not be excelled, in her peculiar line of character--and she wasn't. The audience admired thee, Caroline ! and the humble hat of Squibob is at thy disposal for ever! Miss Chapman was assisted by Mr. Hamilton, a veteran and most worthy actor, who did himself much credit, as he always does in any part he undertakes. Then came Miska Hauser, who with his violin “ went up higher, and came down lower," and performed variations to that extent you couldn't distinguish the original tune more bewilderingly, and made it to squeal, and to bray, and to groan, and to whistle, and to grunt, and looked fiercer at the audience while he was doing it, than any concentrated number of musicians ever collected by that regal lover of harmony, the convivial Cole, could possibly have effected. He was received with roars of applause by the audience, who made him do it all over again; but as I am somewhat like a corn-field, with plenty of ears but no particular idea of music, I was not perhaps as ecstatically delighted as I ought to have been. Then Madame la Comtesse de Landsfeldt appeared in the second act of the pantomime of Yelva, in which she delighted the audience with her artistic delineations of the character of an artless and affectionate dumb girl, and was most enthusiastically received and applauded. After which a comic song was given and encored by W. B. Chapman, well known as a comic actor of great celebrity, who enjoys a reputation in his style of performances only inferior to Burton and Placide. After this Mr. and Mrs. Baker acted very admirably, a very singular piece, neither farce or comedy, but rather suggestive of a school dialogue, which though not deficient in wit, and abounding in sparkling repartee, lacks adaptation to the stage, and would perhaps have seemed tiresome, had it not been for the talent of the performers. Mr. and Mrs. Baker were received with a tempest of applause, and on being called before the
curtain at the conclusion of the dialogue, a large bouquet, or small conservatory of flowers, was thrown upon the stage, as a tribute of admiration and regard. The performance closed with the dance of "Le Olle” by the bewitching Lola, which she performed with inimitable grace and elasticity and very much to the satisfaction of the audience, if I may judge by the roars that rent the air as she appeared before the curtain in response to their call.
Thus finished the entertainment of the evening, with which I, murmuring a kind ajew, retired to my virtuous bed, perfectly satisfied, as I presume did the Hebrew Benevolent Society generally, as their receipts must have been between three and four thousand dollars, with which I hope they will do as much good as I should, if I had it. As I walked up the street on my return home, I noticed a lady who passed me in happy unconsciousness of a small placard adhering to what a sailor would call the afterpart of her shawl, on which, in capital letters, appeared the significant word-TAKEN. As she walked between two gentlemen, holding an arm of each, the notice was not altogether inappropriate. She had evidently sat upon one of the little placards so liberally distributed every night over the front seats at the American, and it had adhered to her dress.
Who is the witty individual that has adopted my timehonored signature in the Evening Journal. Funny beggar! He certainly, he he! he does get off, ha! ha! ha! the drollest things, hol hol hol that I ever, ever heard. I was taking my dinner at the Oriental when that capital hit at the Japan Expedition met my eye, and was borne from the room by two strong waiters, choking with half a glass of water imbibed the wrong way, kicking violently in the air with convulsions of laughter and delight, and exclaiming, oh! d—n it; thus losing my repast, and forfeiting for ever the esteem of a grave and elderly gentleman with green spectacles, who sits opposite me, and has made strenuous efforts for my conversion, with great hope of ultimate success. Adopt another name, funny man, and do not continue to enhance thus undeservedly, the literary reputation of
THE PARABLE OF THE FOX AND ASS.
SAN FRANCISCO, June 12.
Editor of the
I would respectfully call the attention of the Evening Journal to the following fable, to be found in Esop's collection, page 194:
THE FOX AND THE ASS." “ An ass, finding a Lion's skin, disguised himself therein, and ranged about in the forest. After he had diverted himself for some time, he met a Fox, and being desirous to astonish him, he leaped at him with some fierceness, and endeavored to imitate the roaring of a Lion. "Your humble servant, sir,' said the Fox, if you had held your tongue, I might have taken you for a Lion, as others did, but now you bray, I know who you are.'