pretty a little article as I ever saw, with orchestra, dressing-room, &c. A very hard-working morning. The lamps would not do, and the French people are very troublesome; and our band chose to give themselves airs, and could not play vaudevilles; and I found the benevolent driven into a frenzy of a quiet description by them, so I took upon myself, for the first time, and scolded everybody all round, particularly the band-master, who has wanted it some time; and I found myself saying, quite seriously, ‘I have not an idea what you mean, Mr. , by the etiquette of the first violin and second violin. The Governor-General must have whatever music he chooses to order, and it is your fault if the band can’t play it. It is a great disgrace for you if, when Lord Auckland wishes for some vaudevilles, you cannot play them.’ It was so like one of T. Hook's speeches, but it had immediate effect, and I fancy he is perfect master of ‘Faut l'oublier’ and ‘Ça m'est égal’ by this time.
I crept into the ball-room to overhear the actors rehearse, and it was rather refreshing to hear the little jolly songs of their farces. The jeune première is not to say pretty; but she
