Punch (99.1890)

86 PUNCH, OK THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [Atoust 23, mo.

VOCES POPULI.

COCKNEY COQUETRY: A STUDY IN REGENT'S PARK.
Scene—Near the Band-Stand, Time—7 p.m. on a Sunday in August.

characters.

Polly (about 22 ; a tall brunette, of the respectable lower middle-class,
with a flow of light badinage, and a taste for tormenting).

Fto (IS ; her friend; shorter, somewhat less pronounced in manner ;
rather pretty, simply and tastefully dressed : milliner or bonnet-
maker's apprentice).

Mr. Ernest Haivkins (otherwise known as " Eenie 'Oekins" ; 19 or
20; short, sallow, spectacled; draper's assistant; a respectable
and industrious young fellow, who chooses to pass in his hours of
ease as a blase misogynist).

Alfred (his friend; shorter and sallower; a person with a talent for
silence, which he cultivates assiduously).

Polly and Flo are seated upon chairs by the path, watching the crowd
promenading around the enclosure where the Band is playing.
Polly (toFlo). There's

Ernie 'Oekins ; — he

doesn't see us yet. 'Ullo,

Eenie, come 'ere and talk

to us, won't you ?
Fi'o. Don't, Pollt. I'm

sure I don't want to talk

to him!
Polly. Now you know

you do, Flo,—more than

I do, if the truth was

known. It's all on your

account I called out to him.
Mr. Hawkins (coming

up). 'Ullo! so yew're'ere,

are you ?

[Stands in front of their

chairs in an easy atti-
tude. His friend looks

on with an admiring

grin in the background,

unintroduced, but quite

happy and contented.

Polly. Ah, we 're 'ere
all right enough. 'Ow
did you get out ?

Mr. H. (his dignity
slightly ruffled). 'Ow did.
I get out r I'm not in
the 'ahit of working Sun-
days if I know it.

Polly. Oh, I thought
p'raps she wouldn't let
you come out without 'er.
(Mr. H. disdains to notice
this insinuation.) Why,
how you are blushing up,
Flo ! She looks quite nice
when she blushes, don't
she ?

Mr. H. (who is of the
same opinion, but con-
siders it beneath him to

AN OBJECT OF COMPASSION.

Pitt an Unfortunate Man, detained in London by uninteresting circumstances
oveb which he has no control, whose family are all out 0e town, whose
Establishment is eepeesented by a Caretaker, and whose Club is closed
foe Alterations and Repairs.

betray his sentiments). Can't say, I'm sure; I ain't a judge of
blushing myself. I've forgotten how it's done.

Polly. Ah! I dessay you found it convenient to forget. (A pause.
Mr. H. smiles in well-pleased acknowledgment of this tribute to his
brazen demeanour.) Did Arthur send you a telegraph ?—he sent
Flo one. [This is added with a significance intended to excite Mr.
H.''s jealousy.

Mr. H. (unperturbed). No; he telegraphed to father, though. He's
gettin' on well over at Melbun, ain't he? They think a lot of him
out there. And now gettin' his name in the paper, too, like that,
why--

Flo. That '11 do him a lot of good, 'aving his name in the paper,
won't it ?

Mr. H. Oh, Arthur's gettin' on fine. Have you read the letters
he's sent over ? No ? Well, you come in to-morrow evening and
have a look at 'em. Look sharp, or they '11 be lent out again ; they've
been the reg'lar round, I can tell you. I shall write and blow 'im
up. though, for not sending me a telegraft, too.

Polly. You! 'Oo are you f You're on'y his brother, you are.
It's different, his sending one to Flo.

Mr. H. (not altogether relishing this last suggestion). Ah, well, I
desBay I shall go out there myself, some day.

[Looks at Miss Flo, to see how she likes that.

Flo. Yes, you'd better. It would make you quite a man, wouldn't
it ? [Both girls titter.

Mr. H. (nettled). 'Ere, I say, I'm off. Good-bye I Come on, Ale !

[Fausse sortie.

Polly. No, don't go away yet. Shall you take 'er out with you,
Eenie, eh ?

Mr. H. What 'er ? I don't know any 'er.

Polly (archly). Oh, you think we 'aven't 'eard. 'Er where you
live now. We know all about it!

Mr. H. Then you know more than what I do. There's nothing
between me and anybody where I live. But I'm going out to
Ostralia, though. I've saved up 'alf of what I want already.

Polly (banteringly). You are a good boy. Save up enough for me
too!

Mr. H. (surveying her with frank disparagement). You ? Oh,
lor! Not if I know it!

Flo (with an exaggerated sigh). Oh dear, I wish I was over there.
They say they're advertising for maidservants—fifteen shillings a
week, and the washing put out. I'd marry a prince or a lord duke,
perhaps, when I got there. Aethur sent me a fashion-book.

Mr. H. So he sent me
one, too. It was the
Autumn fashions. They
get their Autumn in the
Spring out there, you
know, and their Christ-
mas Day comes in the
middle of July. Seems
rum, doesn't it ?

Flo. He sent me his
photo, too. He has im-
proved.

Polly. You go out there,
Eenie, and p'raps you '11
improve. [Flo giggles.

Mr. H. (hurt). There,
that' s enough—good-bye.
[ Fausse sortie No. 2.
Polly (persuasively).
'Ere, stop! I want to
speak to you. Is your
girl here ?

Mr. H. (glad of this
opportunity). My girl ?
I ain't got no girl. I
don't believe in 'em—a

lot of-

Polly (interrupting). A
lot of what? Go on—
don't mind us.

Mr. H. It don't matter.
I know what they are.

Polly. But you like
Miss Pinkxey, though,
—at the shop in Queen's
Road,—you know.

Mr. H. (by way of pro-
claiming his indifference).
Miss Pinkney ? She
ought to be Mrs. Some-
body by this time,—she's
getting on for thirty.
Polly. Ah, but she
don't look it, does she; not with that lovely coloured 'air and com-
plexion ? You knew she painted, I dessay ? She don't look—well,
not more than thirty-two, at the outside. She spends a lot on her
'air, I know. She sent our Geobgy one day to the 'air-dresser's for
a bottle of the stuff she puts on, and the barber sez: " What, do
you dye your 'air ? " To little Georgy ! fancy!

Mr. H. Well, she may dye herself magenter for all I care.
(Changing the subject.) Arthur's found a lot of old friends at
Melbun,—first person he come upon was a policeman as used to be
at King Street; and you remember that Miss Lavender he used to
go out with? (Speaking at Flo.) Well, her brother was on board
the steamer he went in.

Polly. It's all right, Flo, ain't it? so long as it wasn't Miss
Lavender herself! (To Mr. H.) I say, ain't you got a moustarsh
comin' !

Mr, H. (wounded for the third time). That'll do, I'm off this
time! [The devoted Ale once more prepares for departure.

Polly. All right! Tell us where you'll be, and we may come and
meet you. I daresay we shall find you by the Outer Circle,—where
the children go when they get lost. I say, Ernie, look what a short
frock that girl's got on.

Mr. H. (lingering undecidedly). I don't want to look at no girls,
I tell you.