Punch (59.1870)

158

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[October 15, 1870

EVENINGS FROM HOME.

i E have not had
an Evening from
Ho rue for some
considerable time,
so we looked about
for an entertain-
ment which should
afford us some real
amusement. We
selected the Hol-
born on the first
night of a new
piece, being led
thereto by the pro-
mise of fun held
out to ns in the
announc e ment
that thesaiddrama,
entitled The Odds,
was from the pen
of that well-known
humorist, Mr.Sef-
ton Parry, the
highly respected
Manager of the
Hoi born Theatre.

This, in itself
being an exquisite
joke by way of

preface or introduction, we determined upon paying our money and
taking our choice of seats; which plan we carried out literally, for
having paid our money we chose somebody else's seat, and sat in it
the wtiole evening. We will now proceed to give the "action" on
the stage, and, where necessary, in the auditorium, according to our
custom made and provided, merely premising that having, since this
memorable night, lost our play-bill, we are obliged to trust in a great
measure to our very excellent memory for names of dramatis persona
and regular order of scenes, matters, however, of very small moment,
as neatness of construction, and happy nomenclature, are with Mr.
Sefton Parry less an object than plenty of big-drum and pantomime
bustle.

The piece was called (and so was the author, by the way, this being
all part of the joke)

THE ODDS,

or, what they wear and what they cost.

We won't swear to the accuracy of the second title {in fact we rather
think, in the absence of our play bill, that this wasn't it), but it
would serve as a humorous reference to the costumes of the Military
and two or three of the Civilians. By the way, we must bear in
mind that the piece is styled "A Military and Sporting Drama."

ACT I.

Buzz of excitement in the Auditorium, not allayed, but perhaps rather
increased by the Curtain rising and discovering—

Scene 1.—Hon. Tom Sniffles's Chambers.

N.B. Name of Gentleman entirely from memory, not warranted cor-
rect ; but our impression is that it was Sniffles ; if not, he looked it
every bit, and it ought to have been.

Buzz of excitement in Auditorium. Characters, (Sniffles, and a Young
Lady as a tiger) on stage, inaudible. Pantomime for five minutes,
without the big heads.

Sniffles (walks_ about, then scowls upwards at the gallery, with the air
of a man who is picking out his man above, in order to nod to him).
That Bill.

{Several persons in stalls turn round, and also look up towards the
gallery. No Bill taking notice of Sniffles's address, they
resume their attitudes, and attend once more to Sniffles.

Enter a Chevalier {d 'Industrie, to judge by the flashiness of his " exterior,"
which is evidently modelled on that of " the swell" in the pantomime)
who fusses about like the Conventional stage Frenchman of farce-life,
making mistakes in broken English, and helping to perpetuate all
the absurd old traditions of the character. He gets all " his laughs,"
and exit, pleased.

Enter a ponderous Young Man in a flaxen wig and a moustache, looking
uncommonly like a pleasant young German, fresh from taking air
and exercise on a Trombone. He is supposed to be a heavy dragoon .-
there is no doubt whatever about his heaviness at all events, whatever
we may think of the chances against his being a soldier. How-

ever, as this is a military drama, why, hang it, you must have some
military in it.

Captain Pudding {we forget his name, but this will convey the idea).
The bill is forged. (Sniffles, that wicked Sniffles, laughs) What will
my father say? Because I've never forged very much, and they're
unaccustomed to this sort of thing at home. (Sniffles, that double-
dyed scoundrel Sniffles, laughs) ['m going to ride Flying-Scud-in-
the-Box at our steeple-chases, and he must win. I'm the only fellow
who can ride that horse.

{After giving out this artful hint of what the plot is going to be,
exit Captain Pudding.

Sniffles. {This infernal scoundrel. Sniffles!) I see. He mustn't ride
Flying-Scud-in-the-Box. I've bet against him. I'll have him arrested,
and I'll meet {scowling upwards at gallery once more) that Bill.

{Exit this tremendous swindler Sniffles.

Person in Stalls {a little deaf). What's this about a bill, eh?

Friend {who has followed the plot closely up to this point). Don't know.

Scene 2.—Somewhere about Canterbury, Probably a well-known locality,
only as we asked several people, and t/iey didn't recognise it, it
probably wasn't.

Enter " The Military and Sporting" elements of the Drama. Three

Officers in undress.

Volunteer (in stalls eager for in for nation). What are those fellows ?

Regular {his Friend). Aw-Vpon my soul—{puzzled)—well, I don't ex-
actly know. Spurs?—yaas—straps? No— ah! they can'r, be cavalry
And, ah—shirt-collars ?—yes—shirt-collars, ouly worn in Navy. Forage,
cap ? hum : 'spose it's meant for officer's forage cap Let's sen {sums
up) spurs, no straps, and stick-up collars—0—of course—Horse
Marines. (Verdict accepted. Horse Marines certainly. As Miss
Bishop plays one of them, we ought perhaps to distinguish between the
Horse Marine, masculine, and the Horse Merino, feminine. N.B. Mtss
Bishop played exceedingly well.)

Here followed a Scene of little pleasantries between the Horse
Marines aforesaid and a leading Barmaid from Messrs. Spiers and
Pond's N.B. The name of this firm either mentioned, or written,
comes into nearly every scene. It might he called a Military Sporting
and Refreshment-rooming Drama. Nothing particular in the scene.

Scene 3.—Home of the Puddings. Father Pudding at tea. Miss
Lavcnia (an old maid by the kind permission of various farces)
talking. Tilly Pkice, the heroine and a sort of a relation (we
suppose) to the Puddings, working.

*#* Understand, Pudding is not the name, but the old gentleman
here is the father of Captain Pudding.

Enter Horse Marines, two English and one Irish, and the Horse Merino.
Enter Ca.pta.in Pudding, with that incorrigible ruffian Sniffles.
Enter also the French Chevalier, probably after the spoons.

Tilly {to Captain Pudding, whom she loves). You'll win on Fiying-
Scud-in-the-Box.

Captain Pudding. Yes. (Sentimentally.) I took her out this morning
and showed her the brook. She arched her pretty back, wagged her
silken tail, pawed her ears in her old playful style, shook her right
fetlock joint knowingly at me, and while the thrush in her foot sang its
morning carol, I felt certain that Flying-Scud-in-the-Box must win.

Sniffles {aside—this treacherous Sniffles). Fool!

Maid (to Captain Pudding). A telegram. Sir, by post

Captain Pudding (speaking through soft music). I must go. (The
Marines, and everyone present, strike attitudes all round the tea-table.)

Father Pudding (maudlin after the twentieth cup). My boy—why—
what—(Drinks somebody else's tea without sugar and faints).

Sniffles {scowling as before at the gallery—cruel and artful Sniffles).
That Bill! {End of Act.

ACT II.

General rule, until we come to tee situation seems to be, " when the
dialogue gets tedious, hustle the Frenchman" When there's no
Frenchman and no dialogue, play the big drum, hard.

Military Life in Barracks. Colonel over tea and shrimps previous to
riding a Steeple- Chace. Officers in fancy costumes as jockeys. All
hustle the French gentleman.

The Scene.— The Pace Course of a very serpentine character, and ex-
tending apparently over two or three distant Counties •

Canterbury Pilgrims out for a holiday, walking up and down in a very
cor/fined space, and evidently either utter strangers to one another, or
they have all quarrelled and wont speak. This becoming a little flat,
they brine/ on the Frenchman and hustle him. Having thus intro-
duced a little life into the Scene, on, we go again. Of course there is
no one to ride Flying-Scud-in-t he- Box.

Sniffles (this ungenerous andsubtle black-leg !). Hundred to one against
his sr.Hriin*.

Tilly. Done 1 (Brayvo, Tilly.)