Blessed Powers protect all we poor wretches. First we must suffer the Indian Mutiny, and see the Jewel nearly torn from the Crown by supersititious heathens frightened of a little pig grease, and now this mockery of sainted womanhood once again rears its dual ugly heads? The Americas have clearly lost their way…

Why, sir, that unmentionable love is only the passing foolishness of school-boys, and a quite natural phase for young men to pass through, so my husband has repeated to me- why, almost every morning upon rising, in fact. This relates to dreams that repeat upon his slumbering mind, and cause him to cry out the names…

It is the inability to dance due to genetically imparted ineptitude that leads many poor young souls into banditry, wantonness and Toryism. As the heart withers for wont of companionship, you observe, a cruel and empty philosophy supplants it, and lo! A Tory.

'Dancing with the Stars'. What a sublimely poetic turn of phrase. I must admit that I, after taking those medecines which the good Dr. L. deems vital to the preservation of my nerves, have experienced a state of mind not entirely unlike a light, airy waltz among the glittering lights of heaven. Often returning to…

A sudden spasm of inspiration has gripped my hands, and I find I must write before this brilliant notion which has taken me, quite unawares, becomes lost to the murky obscurity of a woman's memory. Here then, for your consumption, ladies and gentlemen, is… 'Devil-weed Derangement'.

At last I have these three gentlemen cornered, so that I may put inquiries to them. First, a quick pinching of my cheeks to restore colour… and there! All is in readiness.
Sirs: at considerable expense and with a full heart I did, not two months past, make purchase of one of your delightful plays- the exact name…

A highly adept and consistantly amusing display of buffoonery, it must be granted. How often I, in isolation, awaiting my dear husband's return from his singularly lengthy walks down by the Thames waterfront, would take surcease in the remembrance of such frivolous performances. Between the two aforementioned…

Yes, the wonderful Mr. Marcel P. has quite exceeded his Gallic origins to become celebrated, or so I am told. I have not been able to coax permission from my dear husband so that I might read any of his novels or, for that matter, learn more than a mere smattering of French. Ah, mais c'est la vie, et je suis…

Also women experience these moments, often several episodes during a day, where they are seized by the desire to close their hands around whatever painted harlot lies within the range of their vision- their very kin, as often as not! But a true lady would never actually indulge in this dark but entirely, I feel,…

Red hair is an invariable precursor to such behaviour. It is not your fault, young lady, any more than it is the fault of the mouse to perform its delicate business inside a bread-box. A mouse, however, has the good grace not to brag over their questionable accomplishment.

(Faints dead away.)

Why, how could I make such a shameful error. Forgive me, I beg you. Perhaps my mind lingers elsewhere… but no, I fear I have simply sampled too generously of this remarkable claret.

In this fashion do rumours find their genesis, M'lud. In fact, your piquant aside has reminded me of a summer day I spent in the company of my dear cousin Winnifred, or Winnie, as she insists to be called. Though a close friend since childhood, I have always observed in my dear cousin a contrary nature which would…

A secret society of genetic oddities hidden in the woods of bucolic Westchester seems, sadly, only too plausible. Likely it is the absence of abundant castor oil in the diet of the colonies which is to blame.

Dear Mr. Loot,
Agreed! Are we now to be subjected to a complete reinvention of a work of art with only a brief period in which to gather our thoughts? Are those creators so esteemed by theatre-faring folk now bereft entirely of the meanest scrap of invention? Though but a daughter of the realm, and thus a mere…

I assure you sir, Americans, stout-hearted, independent souls though they are, are perfectly capable of catastrophic miscalculation en masse, as evinced by their rejection of the loving yoke and harness that kept their footfalls in step with the Great Empire of our beloved Victoria. Poor lost souls.

The kind doctor cares so deeply for those unfortunates who, through a sad deficiency in their constitution must suffer to swoon that he has become close to a constant companion, always at my elbow, eager to offer his ministrations. Here is a sterling example of the medical profession, by the rood, and courteous…

The lamentable wretch will soon do himself an injury, or, should one stand in their proximity, perhaps a passer-by. May I, though only an adjunct to serious discourse which is the proper province of persons masculine, offer a word of advice? The esteemed Mr. F, though German, has made remarkable strides in the…

Still, in this modern age, we labour on under the weight of the corpulent egos and grey, rubbery morals of the loathesome Tory? Surely science, that panacea of social order, can at last generate a balm for this sadly persistant brand of demogoguery? An island might perhaps be located, peopled by gibbons who may act…

I hearby offer for your consideration, learned souls, a production inspired by that towering champion among a lady's amusements: whist! Were I allowed to venture out in public unescorted, I would certainly be the first to arrive at the theatre!