I fear we shall have no great show of flowers;
But--anyhow my boys we're under cover;
And let us hope that storm-cloud will pass over
Without first giving us a dreadful drenching,
And all our April-hopes entirely quenching.

_All_ (_singing together_).
Rain! Rain!
Go away!
Come again
Another day!

[_Left crouching and singing._

* * * * *

FROM THE THEATRES, &C. COMMISSION.--"I am afraid," said Mr. P.S.
RUTLAND, speaking of the Music Halls, and in answer to a question
of Mr. BOLTON's, "we cannot do a wreck. (_Laughter._)" Mr. WOODALL:
"Without being wrecked in the attempt. (_Renewed laughter._)" Oh,
witty WOODALL! Why, encouraged by this applause, he may yet be led on
to make a pun on his own name, and say, "_Would all_ were like him!"
or some such merry jest. The proceedings in this Committee were
becoming a trifle dull, but it is to be hoped that they may yet hear
something still more sparkling from the wise and witty WOODALL.

* * * * *

[Illustration: APRIL SHOWERS; OR, A SPOILT EASTER HOLIDAY.