and decorous silence. The cracking of nuts, like minute guns at sea, alone interrupted the proceedings. The amount of nuts consumed, was amazing. It appeared as if this refreshment had peculiar charms for the frequenters of the Bird, for every man, woman, and child, seemed to consider a pocketful of Barcelonas quite indispensable. Possibly the dry nature of these provisions was intended as a whet, or relish, to the more genial entertainment presented on the stage. The pantomime might not be called a good one, but was presented with care, and perfect propriety, and nothing in it of an offensive nature could be pointed out by the most captious critic. A most excellent and humorous gymnastic pantomimist, the delight of his audience, is the mainstay of this house, and has probably no superior in his own line.
The pantomime was a long one, and when Your Commissioner emerged from the theatre, he found the dreary space he had crossed before, occupied by promenaders regardless of damp. They were about to dance: not, however, on the sloppy boards, but in a large room adjoining: to which an extra charge for admission was made, and which appeared to fill well. An individual with a weighing machine had planted himself in a dry spot in the centre of the wet platform and implored the public in piteous accents to try their weights—an invitation responded to by none. Possibly the individual thought that some one might be curious to know how much weight he had lost in the theatre, where the heat was extreme.
Your Commissioner next visited Shoreditch. It is his deliberate opinion that Shoreditch on a damp night is not a pleasing thoroughfare. He found in it, much mud, many public-houses, several tripe shops, and a few "penny gaffs." Cheap tailors have laid violent hands on a large number of the houses in this very unpleasant neighbourhood, and, from behind acres of plate glass, offer amazing garments at surprising prices. Here, the proprietors of baked-potato cans are not as their brethren in other parts of London, forasmuch as it is the fashion for a Shoreditch potato-can to be decorated and illumined by three enormous lamps, of the shape, and nearly of the size, of the ordinary street lamp. Probably the pie and potato interests here find it impossible to compete with the fried fish and other cooked provision shops, which abound, without going in for splendour and paraffine. A considerable number of the native population do not appear imbued with the fine arts, to the extent of having their manners softened; or themselves prevented from becoming ferocious. Pugilists' public-houses are numerous. Gentlemen who are occasionally to be seen flying from race-courses, bleeding, half torn to pieces, and pursued by unpaid backers of horses, have their Welch fastnesses not far from the Great Eastern Railway Station. Cheap photographers swarm. Everything for sale is ticketed. All sorts of articles of dress, ornament, and refreshment, are displayed on barrows along the margin of the pavement, and hoarse cries of vendors rend the air.
Pursuing his way among these surroundings on a very wet evening, Your Commissioner looked forward with an evil eye to the theatre he was about to visit. He pictured it to himself as a squalid, dirty, inconvenient house; where the audience would be wretched and the performance worse; where the arrangements would be bad, and the ventilation nil. He had serious thoughts of giving it up and turning back. Duty, however, nailed his colours to the mast, and virtue was rewarded.
Large convenient approaches from Shoreditch lead, by lobbies equally convenient, into one of the finest and largest theatres in London. Handsome in shape, thoughtful in arrangement, excellently conducted, this theatre is a model place of public entertainment. From every part of it, an excellent view of the stage can be had; the comfort of the audience is well cared for; there is everywhere ample space, and to spare, and the ventilation is perfect. There is an enormous pit, divided into two classes; there are large galleries, here called upper and lower circles; there is an elegant and comfortable balcony, corresponding to a West-end dress circle; and there is a sufficiency of private boxes all round the house. It is really a surprising theatre. If it could be taken up bodily and set down in the Strand, it would mightily astonish the playgoers of the West. It was nearly full on the night of Your Commissioner's visit; not quite full, but this is not surprising when it is considered that it can seat five thousand three hundred persons, and that there is, besides, standing room for many more. The audience were very quiet and appreciative, and the pantomime afforded extreme delight. It was liberally and judiciously put upon the stage, and, in accordance with the general custom, abounded in princes and in ballet. Your Commissioner is unable to report that he has any fault
