130

Eats Peas With His Knife.

From the London Society

All the Mrs. Lion-Hunters seem to have gone clean stark raving need over the burly charms of the American circus-man. Nothing is too good for him, from the box-seat of Charlie Borceford's coach to a seat at the supper table of any fad mongering hostess who is fortunate enough to work a mutual advertisement by securing the Buffalo person's presence at dance or reception. Now, against Buffalo Bill himself we have not a word to say. As a showman he is a distinct success, and the very fact, which we deplore, of his getting himself asked to London drawing rooms, proves that he is not only a circus manager, but an "advance agent" -- this is the correct Americanism -- of more than common enterprise. But it does seem passing stange that ladies should go out of their way to get to their houses a man who professes not only to have indulged freelt in the uncleanly outrafe of shooting the heads of this fallen foes, but to have treasured the relics of such a [?] surgery.

Apart from this, Bill is said to carry his firm belief in the knife into the supper rooms of his new friends, giving preference so that implement over his fork for the purpose of "trailing" round his plate, and finally conveying to his mouth the new pass and other luxuries with which he is supplied, his maneuvers being watched with open-eyed admiration by the other privileged guests. [Scalps?] and Buffalo Bill reign in the very same rooms that a year or two ago were the temples of the sunflower and Oscar Wilde. After all, Buffalo Bill for [chores?].