Punch: Punch (76.1879)

52

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [February 8, 1879.

DOCK MODELS.

rttly it must be a
comfort to those ill-
used Glasgow Bank
Directors to fall
back upon their
characters! When
Punch reads the
glowing testimony
in favour of these
exemplary and
most unfortunate
men ; how Mr.

Taylor is "an honest and upright man, incapable of soiling his soul by such a
dishonest action as the falsification of a balance-sheet; " how Mr. Wright is
"a man of perfect honour and scrupulous integrity;" how Mr. Inglis is
"upright and honourable;" Mr. Stronach "good, conscientious, upright,
kind, and unselfish;" and Mr. Salmond " eminently honourable and conscien-
tious," he is tempted to exclaim—as he regales nose and eyes with this cluster of
virtues which smell sweet and blossom, not in the dust but in the dock—with
a little alteration of Pope's trite couplet:—

" It is not that such men are rich and rare,
"We wonder how the mischief they got there ! ''

BULL AND HIS BURDENS.

Who led the way ?

"I," cries the Russ.

" All this fight, failure, fuss,
Springs from me,-—so they say."

Who followed suit ?

"I," yelped the Turk.

" And poor Bull dares not shirk
My dead weight—patient brute'! "

Who came behind ?

"I," says the Master.

" Strike, and trading-disaster
Bad burdens he '11 find.''

Who jumped on next ?

"I," growls the Man.

" Strikes may lead to cold scran ;
But I sticks to my text."

Who's this next him stowed ?

" I," shrieks the dark Spectre

Of Glasgow Director ;—
For Bull's back a sore load !

And who's this I see ?
The Zulu, with a spring.
On the long back doth fling,

Shouting " Just room for me ! "

Who bears the lot ?

"I," groans the poor Bull.

"But my back's about full.
Stand much more I can not! "

Esculent and Exciting-.

A certain enthusiast has lately been 'writing letters
to the Times in advocacy of Vegetarianism, or more
correctly, as an etymologist suggests in answer to him,
"Cerealism." He more particularly recommends lentils,
with an irrational 'vehemence that suggests, to medical
readers at least, the expediency of feeling his pulse, if not
of eating it.

OUR REPRESENTATIVE MAN.

{Reports on a visit to Her Majesty's on the Opening Night of
Carl Rosa's Season.)

Mr. Carl Rosa made a first-rate start with Rienzi, the Last of
the Tribunes; and Mr. John P. Jackson" is to be congratulated on
his English libretto. And most of it, in the mouths of the
principal artists, was clear and intelligible to me at least, though
during one of the concerted pieces I overheard a remark made by a
Lady to her friend, "It's a very clever idea bringing this out at
Her Majesty's; for it really seems just like Italian: and it never
did, you know, at the Adelphi."

There 's a good deal in this reasoning, mind you. The traditions
of the Adelphi are to a certain extent unfashionable, and .decidedly
non-operatic ; while those of Her Majesty's are connected with the
highest fashion, the London Season, great Italian Singers, and
Operatic Impresarios. There are numbers who, while they would
think twice before going to the Adelphi for any Opera, English or
Italian, and then wouldn't go, would readily take stalls at Her
Majesty's for an_ English Opera; because there is an odour of
brilliant associations floating about the house, and they can go
through all the regular business of the season, ogling through
lorgnettes, lounging in fops' alley, chatting in the lobby, &c, at
hali-price. But the majority, who, patronise the Opera in English,
go there out of sheer love of music, and a hearty desire to encourage
such an enterprise as that of Mr. Carl Rosa's, which has for its aim
and object the gratification of the highest musical taste in the region
of Opera at the lowest possible prices.

The Opera is no longer to be an aristocratic luxury, above the heads,
or rather above the pockets of the people, nor is it to be a sort of
summer vegetable, only in season with strawberries and asparagus,—
no; henceforth, if the venture at Her Majesty's succeeds, we may
look forward hopefully to the permanent establishment of an English
Opera House, that is, a House for the performance of all Operas of
all nationalities, translated into our own native tongue, affording
great opportunities to native vocal talent,—the Local Vocal—and to
the talented native composer and librettist, who would here find for
their work a company ready to hand, and an audience educated to
listen patiently and appreciate thoroughly.

Floreat Rosa! may he be not the "last Rose of Summer," deserted
by his blooming companions, but a perennial flower, a hardy annual,
and so, as the drinking chorus has it—

" Here's to you, John Brown,
Here 's to you with all my heart! "

and, once again, Floreat Rosa 1

Of course there must have been a great rush for the cheap edition
of Brewer's Rienzi when the Opera was announced. So many people
remembered having read it, "years ago, when they read all his
others," and, in drawing-rooms, and "places where they sing," the
conversation, a few days previous to the production of the Opera,
would take this form:— _ .

First Young Musical Amateur [to Lady Musical Ditto). Going
to hear Rienzi with the English Opera Company ?

Lady Musical Ditto. At Her Majesty's? Oh, yes (meaning that
the locale had decided her).

Second Young Musical Amateur. Oh, of course (enthusiastically).
Why, it's Wagner's.

Lady Musical Amateur (who has not seen it in this light before).
Ah! so it is ! (Enthusiastically and reproachfully to First Young
Amateur.) How could you ask me ? Of course, I always go to any-
thing of Wagner's. _

First Young Amateur [who has merely thought of it as an English
Opera). Wagner's? (confessing his ignorance). I don't know. I
thought it was an old Opera of Brewer's, set by Balfe or some-
body. . „

Second Young Amateur (superciliously). My dear fellow ! Brewer
and Balee ! Why, it's a German Opera translated into English.

Elderly Gentleman (ivarmly). I beg your pardon. The German
Opera was founded upon Btjlwer's English novel.

Elderly Lady (who has been a great novel-reader). Of course, I
remember it very well. It came out among his first. The Last
Days of Rienzi. Charming !

Elderly Gentleman. No, no, no. You're thinking of The Last
Days of Pompeii.

Elderly Lady. Ah! yes. So'T am. _ But he wrote so many. But
I remember this one—it was called Rienzi.

Elderly Gent (thoughtfully). Yes—it was—but what it was about
—(puzzled)—let me see. There was something mysterious. Some-