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Our old friend, Mr. Thatcher, in company with Madame Vitelli, Mr. Small, and Mr. Oakej’ as pianist, commenced his second series of entertainments before the Auckland public, at the Odd Felhftre’ Hall, on Tnursday evening. The room was crowded by an influential audience, notwithstanding the attraction elsewhere at the same hour, which goes far to prove the good impression left by Mr. Thatcher on his former visit, some fifteen months’ ago. On his coming before the audience with the following he was received with deafening applause : AUCKLAND OPENING ADDRESS. Thatcher’s come back; ’ts fifteen month’s ago Since I was in this City, you must know ; And I return to find it just the same— Few alterations since first here I came. The streets unpaved, just look at Shorthand Crescent, To walk that thoroughfare is quite unpleasant. Large boulders trip'you up, and I declare I never travel it but I almost swear. Look at Queen-street, un paved as yet, I see, And in that state no doubt will always be. Talk of improvements in this wretched place, The state of Auckland’s really a disgrace. Go to Dqnecin, Nelson, Wellington, See the great changes daily being done: Fine handsome buildings all round please the eye, out of Auckland each place takes a rise. Gas, too, Ikid on—not rusty pipes laid down— Good heavens !’ when are they going to light this town ? Look at the Crib yoil call your Court House, then, Judge JohnstjJn well may christen it a den. And your policemen—comical-looking Chaps— In long blue shirts, seem anything but traps. Your West Qhcen-street’s a filthy, dirty slum : Can I note all these things and yet be dumb ? Can I go by that in-take, and not grin— Instead of in-take, its a vile take-in; Not built on yet, but in the same decay, As when from Auckland I first went away. Go to, you Auckland folks, these things reform, Or from this child you ’ll catch it awful warm. There’s no mistake, my mission’s very clear. I’ll speak tny mind out without any fear ; Though some may think that I am rather bold, The mirror up to nature will I hold. I want to effect improvements in the place, Not leave it what T find it, a disgrace. I’ll tell about the Progress of the War, Of Doctor Shortland I- don’t stand in awe ; To thwart the Government seems his only whim — Just wait a bit, won’t I walk into him! I’ll touch the Six-and-Eightpenny Government, too, Make Whitaker and Russell both look blue. A Government indeed ! a lot of fakers. To gammon immigrants with forty acres ; And here they come from England, belter skelter, A?d when they .land find, for them, there’s no shelter. .'The Camp at Drury will come in for raps, See how they treat the Volunteering chaps. Is it at all strange that they want redemption, And pay £lO for slaughter-house exemption ? No wonder that the poor chaps cry for quarter, Working up to their waists in mud and water. This £lO-dodge, of course, sounds very fine, O—’Tis but a swindle to get people’s, rhino ; My word, I have a mission to fulfil, Shew up such shameful grievances I will. Here’s work for me, Look at the City Board ! The stjde in which they do things must be floored. Look how they squabble, ’tis a Burlesque, sure; Satire, I think, will work a perfect cure. Soon will they-drop all that, improve the town, Finlay will be cooled most completely down, You’ll-find in future that he will not dare To snub the Engineer, blackguard the Chair ; Telling poor Beveridge to ‘ dry up,’ forsooth, I’ve got my eye upon this rowdy youth 1 And young Dundreary, Mister Ogilvie, In future, doubtless, will more modest be; Nor go up to the Cross and ask, out pat, Come, Mr. Editor, ‘ Did jou write that P But, who are you ? some of you, p’r’aps may ask, Who’re come to take these worthies all to task. My name is Thatcher, I’m a comic file, And I’ll walk into some of them in style. Come then and hear what Thatcher, has to say, About the various topics of‘the- (fay. • You but snpp>vt him, and he’ll do his best, o And all your grievances shall be redressed. This is my programme, I will say no more, I’m no new comer, I’ve been tried before ; Big Foley knows me, pious Tommy, too, You just support me—l’ll stick up for you. If you approve me, here with you I’ll stay ; When I can’t please j t ou, then I’ll go away. On our short-comings don’t be too severe, Give us but time, we’ll try and please you here ; And thus I humbly end this short address. Trusting that we may merit our success. This was followed by some excellent music by Mr. A. Oakey, and ballads by Madame Yitelli, which were of a charming character* executed with all the taste and finesse of an accomplished vocalist of high repute. The buffo vocalist and delineator of Irish eccentricities, Mr. J. Small, took extremely well, and really displayed much ability 7 in his. line. “ The unfortunate Man” and “ The Irish Schoolmaster” were those which excelled most, and received the greatest applause. During the evening Mr. Thatcher sang several songs of his own composition, and received rapturous acknowledgments. “ The City Board” was, however, the jem of the evening, judging from the enthusiasm it met with, and was doubly gratifying to the following members, who were present—the Chairman (Mr. Beveridge), Mr. Macready, Mr. Finlay, and Mr. Darby. “The Super, and Pleufo-Pneumonia,” was a pointed satire on the conduct of the former in the adoption of “ preventive measures.” “ The Progress of the War” contained a fund of information in almost every line, and met with the reception it so well deserved. The more salient incidents of citizen servitude were dealt with 'in neat phraseology, and the pungent wit of some point's was very telling. The appreciation of the audience was evidenced at repeated intervals during its delivery, and at the close by prolonged applause. No doubt the song will be repeated on another occasion, when ,we are sure it will be equally well received. To-morrow evening the entertainment will be repeated at the same time and place, with an entire change of programme. We predict an abundant success and a full house/'

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MR. THATCHER'S ENTERTAINMENT., New Zealander, Volume XX, Issue 2074, 26 March 1864

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MR. THATCHER'S ENTERTAINMENT. New Zealander, Volume XX, Issue 2074, 26 March 1864

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