DOI Heft:
October 29, 1859
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16864#0192
October 29, 1859.]
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
181
!
MORE DRAMATIC NOVELTY.
eople say that there is
nothing new under the
sun, bat this solar obser-
vation is continually, to
our mind, receiving re-
futation. At the theatres
especially there is a con-
stant aim at novelty, and
the aim results occasion-
ally in something like a
hit. We learn, for in-
stance, from a Paris cor-
respondent of the lTele-
graph, that on the night
of opening the Theatre
Dejazet, which has been
known to older playgoers
as the Fulles Nouvelles :—
“ The performance was com-
menced by the delivery of a
2>rologue, written, some say,
by thirty-six different authors,
others, by sixty-six, which in-
troduced the company and the
new directress to the audience,
and explained in the manner
common to such special pro-
ductions, thqplan of manage-
ment to bo pursued at the
establishment.”
It is no uncommon
thing to hear of authors
joining in the writing of
a piece, but that some
three dozen writers should
have laid their heads
together for the writing of a prologue is certainly a novelty of the very
newest type. As an opening address is not a very lengthy matter, we
almost wonder how so many pens could have found room to turn a
sentence in it ; and we fear their joint production would resemble in
its quality the broth which has been spoilt by an overcharge of cooks.
Public writers are in France so commonly compelled to sign their
names to what they write, that perhaps the thirty-six or sixty-six who
wrote this prologue were obliged to put their signatures to the sen-
tences they penned. If this were so, we really think that to do the
authors justice, their names should have been read out when the pro-
logue was delivered, so that the public might have known to whom it
was indebted for the jokes which chiefly tickled it. It seems to us this
notion might produce, if rightly worked, a capital effect; and as suc-
cesses on the French stage are always copied on our own, we should
not he surprised to hear that the idea has been in England carried out.
As the notion might of course be variously acted on, it would not at
all astonish us to find some popular comedian taking his farewell of ns
in some such speech as this :—
“ Ladies and Gentlemen (Smith), accustomed as I am to public
speaking (Brown), I have never felt myself more at a loss for words
(Jones) than I do upon the present to me heart-breaking occasion
(Robinson). I have this evening to take leave of my ky-indest friends
and patrons (Hawkins); to bid farewell to the footlights (Jawkins),
which have nightly lit my path towards an honourable retirement
(Hookem), and flared with equal flame upon each failure or success
(Snivey). The profession of an actor is an arduous profession (Snooks).
His progress is a course beset with obstacles and difficulties (Tomkins).
It is like everything else (Green) ‘ in this mortial wale of tears ’ (Gamp).
Like the course at Epsom, it is full of ups and downs (Whipper), and
like (Snapper) ‘the course of true love never doth run smooth5
(Shakspeare). But arduous as is the profession I have chosen (Blogg),
I have never for an instant thought it was too much for me (Bragg).
I have always been in readiness to undertake whatever part was en-
trusted to my hands (Wilson), however little fitted I may have been
considered for it (Watkins)-, and to my invincible belief in my own
powers I believe I mainly owe the proud position I have gained (Cheeke).
‘ I do remember 5 (Shakspeare) that the first time I played Hamlet,
some geese hissed me off the stage (Jowler), and were absurd enough
to ask that their money should be returned to them (Brass'). The
Manager politely wished that they might get it (Grumpy), and so I
was consoled by the comforting reflection that, after all, the geese did
not contrive to save their capital (Stumpy). This anecdote will show
ou, my ky-ind friends and patrons (Crawler), that I have not always
een the favourite I am (Gibbs). But the pursuit of popularity has
been to me a Love Chace, and I have never feared the Rivals (Sheridan)
who have beset my path (Cocker). Still, although I may regard
myself as having been the (Thompson) ‘architect of my own fortune5
(Anon), it is to you, Ladies and Gentlemen, I would attribute my
success (Briggs). Aided by my ky-ind friends, the writers for the
press (Johnson), whom I am always glad to welcome as my guests
(Jackson), your discernment has, so guided, discovered my deserts
(Cringer), and your unbiassed patronage has most liberally acknow-
ledged them (Snobb). Ladies and Gentlemen (Short), I have now the
anguish of bidding you farewell (Long). As the Swan of Avon sings
(Crib be)
“ Parting is sush sweet sorrow,
That I shall say—Good night till it be morrow.”—(Shakspeare.)
But ‘ the best of friends must part5 (Anon), and as ‘ what must be
must5 (Author also unknown), 1 feel I am compelled once in my life to
yield to circumstances (Prosely). Ladies and Gentlemen (Higgins),
1 have but two words more to say to you (Stiggins). ‘Life ain’t all
by or and skittles5 (Slick). ,5Tis not in mortals to command success5
(Shakspeare) • but whatever skittles or success I have enjoyed (Griggs),
it is to your ky-indness that I feel I owe it (Finis).” /
AN EXAMPLE MADE.
Mr. Punch’s Balmoral Anecdotes not having quite succeeded in
stopping the flood of flunkeydom let loose by the Scotch papers with a
rush that rivalled the Loch Katrine water-works (although he is bound,
to say that the nuisance instantly and greatly abated), he fulfils his
menace by presenting a real anecdote of one ot these idiots, and more-
over indicating him. A writer in the Fife Flunkey—no, Herald, actually
contributes this rubbish :—
“ As the Sheriff of Edinburgh stood in shrievsl dignity on the platform of the
railway station, a lady sought audience of him. It was granted, and the lady pro-
ceeded to tell him that she had a little girl with her who was deeply in love with
Prince Arthur, and that nothing on earth would satisfy her short of presenting
Prince Arthur with a bouquet. The Sheriff pondered a moment, but was afraid ho
j had not jurisdiction sufficient for the proposed presentation of the bouquet—how-
, ever, he would see. Accordingly he entered the Royal Carriage and explained the
matter to the Quekn, pointing out to her the expectant young lady, who stood, a
bewitching little creature, all blushes, hopes, and fears, on the platform. Her
Majestv, with the utmost promptitude, declared her willingness for the bouquet
scene, and said she could not for a moment ‘ come brtwen the two.' Whereupon the-
Sheriff returned with the welcome tidings, and little Miss --stepping forward
with the grace of Ferraris, presented her flowers, with a charming consciousness
beaming from her child-face, which no doubt the youthful prince fully appreciated.”
Which, you ass, means the child-face—do you mean that, or the
“ consciousness ? 55 Mr. Punch is in doubt which was the worst, the im-
pertinence of the female who, in order to have something to talk about
to her familiars, poked her child under the Queen’s nose, and made the
poor little girl uncomfortable; or the sycophant folly of the writer
who could commemorate sucu twaddle and rudeness. The speech-
attributed to the Queen is, of course, “a lee;55 but no doubt Her
Majesty was, as usual, very good-natured, and it is a shame that
vulgarians should intrude upon her, or other vulgarians print the
particulars of such intrusion. Now, Life, how do you like that ?
LOCH KATRINE IN GLASGOW.
Glasgie 5s just a’ right the noo
She has gat Loch Katrine brought her;
Ever she had mountain dew,
Now she rins wi5 mountain water.
Ilech the blessin5, ho the boon
To ilka drouthie Glasgie bodie!
Sin5 there’s water in the toun,
Oure eueuch to mak5 its toadie.
Glasgie cliiels, a truth ye ’ll learn
New to mony a Scot, I’m thinkin’ ;
Wafer, aiblins, ye’ll discern,
Was na gi’en alane for drink in’.
Hands and face ye ’ll scrub at least,
Frae ane until anitlier Monday,
Gif nae Sabbatarian beast
Stap your water-warks on Sunday.
Another Laurel Wreath around the Imperial Brow
It has long been surmised—and a surmise on our part is almost
equal to a fact by anybody else—that the Monsieur Communique,
who is, perhaps, the most liberal contributor to the French Press, for
the simple reason that there is no Editor who dare to refuse to insert
his articles, was no less a personage than Louis Napoleon him-
self. Should this mighty wielder of the sceptre and the pen, how-
ever, fall under the displeasure of the Pope, and he threatened, like
Victor Emmanuel, with all the pains and penalties of excommuni-
cation, he will be able to add to his other proud titles that of Mon-
sieur Ex-Communique.
I
I
P
r
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
181
!
MORE DRAMATIC NOVELTY.
eople say that there is
nothing new under the
sun, bat this solar obser-
vation is continually, to
our mind, receiving re-
futation. At the theatres
especially there is a con-
stant aim at novelty, and
the aim results occasion-
ally in something like a
hit. We learn, for in-
stance, from a Paris cor-
respondent of the lTele-
graph, that on the night
of opening the Theatre
Dejazet, which has been
known to older playgoers
as the Fulles Nouvelles :—
“ The performance was com-
menced by the delivery of a
2>rologue, written, some say,
by thirty-six different authors,
others, by sixty-six, which in-
troduced the company and the
new directress to the audience,
and explained in the manner
common to such special pro-
ductions, thqplan of manage-
ment to bo pursued at the
establishment.”
It is no uncommon
thing to hear of authors
joining in the writing of
a piece, but that some
three dozen writers should
have laid their heads
together for the writing of a prologue is certainly a novelty of the very
newest type. As an opening address is not a very lengthy matter, we
almost wonder how so many pens could have found room to turn a
sentence in it ; and we fear their joint production would resemble in
its quality the broth which has been spoilt by an overcharge of cooks.
Public writers are in France so commonly compelled to sign their
names to what they write, that perhaps the thirty-six or sixty-six who
wrote this prologue were obliged to put their signatures to the sen-
tences they penned. If this were so, we really think that to do the
authors justice, their names should have been read out when the pro-
logue was delivered, so that the public might have known to whom it
was indebted for the jokes which chiefly tickled it. It seems to us this
notion might produce, if rightly worked, a capital effect; and as suc-
cesses on the French stage are always copied on our own, we should
not he surprised to hear that the idea has been in England carried out.
As the notion might of course be variously acted on, it would not at
all astonish us to find some popular comedian taking his farewell of ns
in some such speech as this :—
“ Ladies and Gentlemen (Smith), accustomed as I am to public
speaking (Brown), I have never felt myself more at a loss for words
(Jones) than I do upon the present to me heart-breaking occasion
(Robinson). I have this evening to take leave of my ky-indest friends
and patrons (Hawkins); to bid farewell to the footlights (Jawkins),
which have nightly lit my path towards an honourable retirement
(Hookem), and flared with equal flame upon each failure or success
(Snivey). The profession of an actor is an arduous profession (Snooks).
His progress is a course beset with obstacles and difficulties (Tomkins).
It is like everything else (Green) ‘ in this mortial wale of tears ’ (Gamp).
Like the course at Epsom, it is full of ups and downs (Whipper), and
like (Snapper) ‘the course of true love never doth run smooth5
(Shakspeare). But arduous as is the profession I have chosen (Blogg),
I have never for an instant thought it was too much for me (Bragg).
I have always been in readiness to undertake whatever part was en-
trusted to my hands (Wilson), however little fitted I may have been
considered for it (Watkins)-, and to my invincible belief in my own
powers I believe I mainly owe the proud position I have gained (Cheeke).
‘ I do remember 5 (Shakspeare) that the first time I played Hamlet,
some geese hissed me off the stage (Jowler), and were absurd enough
to ask that their money should be returned to them (Brass'). The
Manager politely wished that they might get it (Grumpy), and so I
was consoled by the comforting reflection that, after all, the geese did
not contrive to save their capital (Stumpy). This anecdote will show
ou, my ky-ind friends and patrons (Crawler), that I have not always
een the favourite I am (Gibbs). But the pursuit of popularity has
been to me a Love Chace, and I have never feared the Rivals (Sheridan)
who have beset my path (Cocker). Still, although I may regard
myself as having been the (Thompson) ‘architect of my own fortune5
(Anon), it is to you, Ladies and Gentlemen, I would attribute my
success (Briggs). Aided by my ky-ind friends, the writers for the
press (Johnson), whom I am always glad to welcome as my guests
(Jackson), your discernment has, so guided, discovered my deserts
(Cringer), and your unbiassed patronage has most liberally acknow-
ledged them (Snobb). Ladies and Gentlemen (Short), I have now the
anguish of bidding you farewell (Long). As the Swan of Avon sings
(Crib be)
“ Parting is sush sweet sorrow,
That I shall say—Good night till it be morrow.”—(Shakspeare.)
But ‘ the best of friends must part5 (Anon), and as ‘ what must be
must5 (Author also unknown), 1 feel I am compelled once in my life to
yield to circumstances (Prosely). Ladies and Gentlemen (Higgins),
1 have but two words more to say to you (Stiggins). ‘Life ain’t all
by or and skittles5 (Slick). ,5Tis not in mortals to command success5
(Shakspeare) • but whatever skittles or success I have enjoyed (Griggs),
it is to your ky-indness that I feel I owe it (Finis).” /
AN EXAMPLE MADE.
Mr. Punch’s Balmoral Anecdotes not having quite succeeded in
stopping the flood of flunkeydom let loose by the Scotch papers with a
rush that rivalled the Loch Katrine water-works (although he is bound,
to say that the nuisance instantly and greatly abated), he fulfils his
menace by presenting a real anecdote of one ot these idiots, and more-
over indicating him. A writer in the Fife Flunkey—no, Herald, actually
contributes this rubbish :—
“ As the Sheriff of Edinburgh stood in shrievsl dignity on the platform of the
railway station, a lady sought audience of him. It was granted, and the lady pro-
ceeded to tell him that she had a little girl with her who was deeply in love with
Prince Arthur, and that nothing on earth would satisfy her short of presenting
Prince Arthur with a bouquet. The Sheriff pondered a moment, but was afraid ho
j had not jurisdiction sufficient for the proposed presentation of the bouquet—how-
, ever, he would see. Accordingly he entered the Royal Carriage and explained the
matter to the Quekn, pointing out to her the expectant young lady, who stood, a
bewitching little creature, all blushes, hopes, and fears, on the platform. Her
Majestv, with the utmost promptitude, declared her willingness for the bouquet
scene, and said she could not for a moment ‘ come brtwen the two.' Whereupon the-
Sheriff returned with the welcome tidings, and little Miss --stepping forward
with the grace of Ferraris, presented her flowers, with a charming consciousness
beaming from her child-face, which no doubt the youthful prince fully appreciated.”
Which, you ass, means the child-face—do you mean that, or the
“ consciousness ? 55 Mr. Punch is in doubt which was the worst, the im-
pertinence of the female who, in order to have something to talk about
to her familiars, poked her child under the Queen’s nose, and made the
poor little girl uncomfortable; or the sycophant folly of the writer
who could commemorate sucu twaddle and rudeness. The speech-
attributed to the Queen is, of course, “a lee;55 but no doubt Her
Majesty was, as usual, very good-natured, and it is a shame that
vulgarians should intrude upon her, or other vulgarians print the
particulars of such intrusion. Now, Life, how do you like that ?
LOCH KATRINE IN GLASGOW.
Glasgie 5s just a’ right the noo
She has gat Loch Katrine brought her;
Ever she had mountain dew,
Now she rins wi5 mountain water.
Ilech the blessin5, ho the boon
To ilka drouthie Glasgie bodie!
Sin5 there’s water in the toun,
Oure eueuch to mak5 its toadie.
Glasgie cliiels, a truth ye ’ll learn
New to mony a Scot, I’m thinkin’ ;
Wafer, aiblins, ye’ll discern,
Was na gi’en alane for drink in’.
Hands and face ye ’ll scrub at least,
Frae ane until anitlier Monday,
Gif nae Sabbatarian beast
Stap your water-warks on Sunday.
Another Laurel Wreath around the Imperial Brow
It has long been surmised—and a surmise on our part is almost
equal to a fact by anybody else—that the Monsieur Communique,
who is, perhaps, the most liberal contributor to the French Press, for
the simple reason that there is no Editor who dare to refuse to insert
his articles, was no less a personage than Louis Napoleon him-
self. Should this mighty wielder of the sceptre and the pen, how-
ever, fall under the displeasure of the Pope, and he threatened, like
Victor Emmanuel, with all the pains and penalties of excommuni-
cation, he will be able to add to his other proud titles that of Mon-
sieur Ex-Communique.
I
I
P
r