A new farce, with the promisinss '' title Don't be Frightened,
struggled for existence two nights at Covent (harden but expired of sheer inani- tion, notwithstanding breakfast was served up in the first act, and a round of beef and a bowl of punch in the second. But these were the only good things ; excepting only the practical joke of an intruder hiding himself by sustaining the character of an arm-chair under the masquerade of its cover—au ingenious idea, if any fun had come of it. Its author, young Mowros, has surely been rummaging some of his father's old stores, for the miderials, such as 'they were, belonged to ihe last century ; even the allusions and forms of speech were antiquated. When are we' to have another such a farce as His Last Legs? Let us cheat the Stamp-office, for the benefit of the public, by advertising here—" Goon FARCES WANTED: apply at all the Theatres Royal." Or perhaps it ought to be " WANTED A HUMORIST capable of writing a Farce : one who can raise a laugh will meet with encouragement."
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