DOI issue:
January 24, 1874
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16938#0041
January 24, 1874.]
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
33
quently appears, the one mistake with the family, they all waste so
much time in attitudinising before they strike ; why Robert might
have done it twice over, if he hadn’t been bent on a graceful atti-
tude—when the traveller wakes up and seizes him. Robert, who is
a poor hand at an excuse, says, “ I only came in for the lamp,” and
leaves. The guileless traveller now begins to mistrust his hosts,
and lies down again to rest sword in hand. But he’s not to have a
quiet time, not a bit. Out comes Mrs. Woodcutter, with the impulse
of her early pantomime reminiscences strong within her, from
behind the bed-curtains, and excitedly warns him, points to a blood-
stain on the pillow, calls on him to escape with her, when-— enter
Robert. “ Ha! ” exclaims her sulky step-son, “ what are you here
for ?” Well, her presence there is, to say the least of it, odd. The
family, however, are none of them very good at excuses, and she
assures Robert that she only came to give the stranger a night-cap.
“It may be so,” says sulky _Robert, thoughtfully, and actually
accepts the explanation as satisfactory. In fact, clever, except in
the matter of posing, as he is, professionally, as a Bobber, Robert is,
out of business, rather a fool than otherwise, or why believe his
step-mother about that night-cap F They both leave Raymond, who
finding he is unable to escape, goes to bed again, and directly he has
settled himself comfortably, enters the sulky Robert for the third
time, and recommences with his carving-knife. Being, as before,
a long time posing and taking aim, Mrs. Woodcutter seizes the
opportunity to prod Raymond sharply in the ribs from behind
her favourite hiding-pdace, the bed-curtains (where she has again
concealed herself, having entered unperceived by that sulky idiot,
Robert), and Raymond, springing up, seizes the ruffian for the third
time. His excuse is now, that he “ only came up to say that supper
was ready.”
Then they go to supper? and Agnes, and the Duenna, are brought
in, and Raymond sups with Agnes, and the Blood-Stained Bandits
make a hearty supper off bread-and-milk in wooden bowls. Then
the Woodcutter gives his guest the poisoned wine, and Mrs. Wood-
cutter (still on for excitement and novelty) tells Raymond not to
drink, and he spills it, making a great noise and mess in doing so,
which are unheard and unseen by the Bobbers, who, as I have before
remarked, are really very simple, stupid people. Agnes is drugged.
Mrs. Woodcutter (up to anything now) tells Raymond to pretend to
sleep. He does so. Only Mr. and Mrs. Woodcutter, Agnes drugged,
and Raymond are now in the room.
The Woodcutter is going to have the amusement all to himself.
He takes out a knife, intending to stab Raymond. But the family
instinct for attitudinising is too strong for him, and he must give
up a minute to posing himself gracefully, before striking the blow.
He lifts his arm : Raymond raises his head—sees him—fearful
struggle—Mr. Woodcutter is just getting six to four the best of
Raymond, when Mrs. Woodcutter, who owes him one for having
made her existence so monotonous, now seeing a grand opportunity
for varying the proceedings once and for ever, is struck by a
“ Happy Thought,” and—to put it shortly—cracks life crown with
a hatchet.
Everyone who ought to escape escapes, and the Bobbers re-enter,
looking a little astonished at the state of things in general, as the
curtain descends on the First Act.
How the Bleeding Nun came out of a castle, and wasn’t in any
way Bleeding, but, on the contrary, a Blooming Phantom; how she
vanished into a tree—her disappearance being immediately followed
by the apparition of an illuminated advertisement about “ Avenge”
somebody ; how Ron Raymond got to Lindenberg (I believe); how
Mrs. Woodcutter said she wouldn’t go with him and be a bore, but
did stick to him like wax, refusing to explain anything except that,
years ago, she had once been on her way to Strasbourg, and had
never got there ; how the Bobbers were all killed in a cave, and the
Blooming Nun re-appeared in a brilliant light—I have not time, nor
have you space, to tell. Suffice it to add, that this genuine Melo-
Drama of the Old School is played at the Haymarket at about ten
o’clock or so ; and if those who left, after Charity, will go and see
this, they will show their faith in the evidence of
Yotjr Bepresentative.
P.S.—Mrs. John Wood, more than very good, is in fact the life
and soul of the Wandering Heir, at the Queen's. It is interesting,
and the Trial Scene is cleverly arranged and effectively ended.
Licking for Licensed Victuallers.
Hockey is a game much in vogue with boys ‘ ‘ home for the holi-
days.” They play it with sticks and bungs, using the sticks to
knock the bungs. Thus they suggest the idea of the Band of Hope,
instigated by the United Kingdom Alliance.
Suitable Birthday Present.—To a Dear Young Lady. A hand-
somely bound copy of the treatise, How to Rress on Fifteen Pounds
a- Week.
READINGS FROM THE BAROMETER.
DRINKESTER.
Sixteen cases of drunkenness were reported yesterday afternoon,
in honour of the coming wedding of the Duke of Edinburgh.
(Weather uncommonly wet.)
PUMPTON.
Several tea-meetings have been held here during the last three
days. A Lecture was given at the Young Men’s Evening Improve-
ment Association on the Hymns of Dr. Watts. (Weather very
mild and dull.)
SMALLBOROUGH.
The Elections commenced yesterday. Various speeches were
made by the Candidates. There were meetings at the Town Hall
and in the Market Place. The Biot Act has been read and the
troops called out. (Weather stormy.)
CASES FOB VIVISECTION.
Much question has been raised about the lawfulness of “ vivisec-
tion,” as practised on animals ; but, since the alteration of the old
law respecting high treason, it has never been considered whether
that process could be performed with propriety on the human sub-
ject. There are certain offenders who must be regarded as deserving
to undergo it by all minds inspired with enlightened humanity.
For instance:—Wretches who stop bottles with rotten corks. Brutes
who sew on boot-loops so slightly that they come off at a pull. Other
brutes by whom shirt and other buttons are sewn on in the same
atrocious manner. Ptascally South London, and other tradesmen,
adulterating food. Dishonest postmen, who break letters open and
steal remittances. Miscreants, pastrycooks, and servants, who, in
making buns, plum-puddings, and mince-pies, or cakes, containing
currants, neglect to cleanse the currants from grit, and make those
who bite on it crack their teeth. Street-boys who throw orange-
peel on the pavement, and strike out slides. Italian organ-grinders
at large. All these criminals, as well for the welfare of Society as
for the advancement of Science, ought certainly to be subjected to
vivisection.
Daring Attempt.
Shakspeare was once Bowdlerised, and now Rosicell’s Johnson
has been re-written! Is there no bold spirit who will lay his hands
on Robinson Crusoe, or The Pilgrim’s Progress, or The Vicar of
Wakefield ?
Vol. 66.
2
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
33
quently appears, the one mistake with the family, they all waste so
much time in attitudinising before they strike ; why Robert might
have done it twice over, if he hadn’t been bent on a graceful atti-
tude—when the traveller wakes up and seizes him. Robert, who is
a poor hand at an excuse, says, “ I only came in for the lamp,” and
leaves. The guileless traveller now begins to mistrust his hosts,
and lies down again to rest sword in hand. But he’s not to have a
quiet time, not a bit. Out comes Mrs. Woodcutter, with the impulse
of her early pantomime reminiscences strong within her, from
behind the bed-curtains, and excitedly warns him, points to a blood-
stain on the pillow, calls on him to escape with her, when-— enter
Robert. “ Ha! ” exclaims her sulky step-son, “ what are you here
for ?” Well, her presence there is, to say the least of it, odd. The
family, however, are none of them very good at excuses, and she
assures Robert that she only came to give the stranger a night-cap.
“It may be so,” says sulky _Robert, thoughtfully, and actually
accepts the explanation as satisfactory. In fact, clever, except in
the matter of posing, as he is, professionally, as a Bobber, Robert is,
out of business, rather a fool than otherwise, or why believe his
step-mother about that night-cap F They both leave Raymond, who
finding he is unable to escape, goes to bed again, and directly he has
settled himself comfortably, enters the sulky Robert for the third
time, and recommences with his carving-knife. Being, as before,
a long time posing and taking aim, Mrs. Woodcutter seizes the
opportunity to prod Raymond sharply in the ribs from behind
her favourite hiding-pdace, the bed-curtains (where she has again
concealed herself, having entered unperceived by that sulky idiot,
Robert), and Raymond, springing up, seizes the ruffian for the third
time. His excuse is now, that he “ only came up to say that supper
was ready.”
Then they go to supper? and Agnes, and the Duenna, are brought
in, and Raymond sups with Agnes, and the Blood-Stained Bandits
make a hearty supper off bread-and-milk in wooden bowls. Then
the Woodcutter gives his guest the poisoned wine, and Mrs. Wood-
cutter (still on for excitement and novelty) tells Raymond not to
drink, and he spills it, making a great noise and mess in doing so,
which are unheard and unseen by the Bobbers, who, as I have before
remarked, are really very simple, stupid people. Agnes is drugged.
Mrs. Woodcutter (up to anything now) tells Raymond to pretend to
sleep. He does so. Only Mr. and Mrs. Woodcutter, Agnes drugged,
and Raymond are now in the room.
The Woodcutter is going to have the amusement all to himself.
He takes out a knife, intending to stab Raymond. But the family
instinct for attitudinising is too strong for him, and he must give
up a minute to posing himself gracefully, before striking the blow.
He lifts his arm : Raymond raises his head—sees him—fearful
struggle—Mr. Woodcutter is just getting six to four the best of
Raymond, when Mrs. Woodcutter, who owes him one for having
made her existence so monotonous, now seeing a grand opportunity
for varying the proceedings once and for ever, is struck by a
“ Happy Thought,” and—to put it shortly—cracks life crown with
a hatchet.
Everyone who ought to escape escapes, and the Bobbers re-enter,
looking a little astonished at the state of things in general, as the
curtain descends on the First Act.
How the Bleeding Nun came out of a castle, and wasn’t in any
way Bleeding, but, on the contrary, a Blooming Phantom; how she
vanished into a tree—her disappearance being immediately followed
by the apparition of an illuminated advertisement about “ Avenge”
somebody ; how Ron Raymond got to Lindenberg (I believe); how
Mrs. Woodcutter said she wouldn’t go with him and be a bore, but
did stick to him like wax, refusing to explain anything except that,
years ago, she had once been on her way to Strasbourg, and had
never got there ; how the Bobbers were all killed in a cave, and the
Blooming Nun re-appeared in a brilliant light—I have not time, nor
have you space, to tell. Suffice it to add, that this genuine Melo-
Drama of the Old School is played at the Haymarket at about ten
o’clock or so ; and if those who left, after Charity, will go and see
this, they will show their faith in the evidence of
Yotjr Bepresentative.
P.S.—Mrs. John Wood, more than very good, is in fact the life
and soul of the Wandering Heir, at the Queen's. It is interesting,
and the Trial Scene is cleverly arranged and effectively ended.
Licking for Licensed Victuallers.
Hockey is a game much in vogue with boys ‘ ‘ home for the holi-
days.” They play it with sticks and bungs, using the sticks to
knock the bungs. Thus they suggest the idea of the Band of Hope,
instigated by the United Kingdom Alliance.
Suitable Birthday Present.—To a Dear Young Lady. A hand-
somely bound copy of the treatise, How to Rress on Fifteen Pounds
a- Week.
READINGS FROM THE BAROMETER.
DRINKESTER.
Sixteen cases of drunkenness were reported yesterday afternoon,
in honour of the coming wedding of the Duke of Edinburgh.
(Weather uncommonly wet.)
PUMPTON.
Several tea-meetings have been held here during the last three
days. A Lecture was given at the Young Men’s Evening Improve-
ment Association on the Hymns of Dr. Watts. (Weather very
mild and dull.)
SMALLBOROUGH.
The Elections commenced yesterday. Various speeches were
made by the Candidates. There were meetings at the Town Hall
and in the Market Place. The Biot Act has been read and the
troops called out. (Weather stormy.)
CASES FOB VIVISECTION.
Much question has been raised about the lawfulness of “ vivisec-
tion,” as practised on animals ; but, since the alteration of the old
law respecting high treason, it has never been considered whether
that process could be performed with propriety on the human sub-
ject. There are certain offenders who must be regarded as deserving
to undergo it by all minds inspired with enlightened humanity.
For instance:—Wretches who stop bottles with rotten corks. Brutes
who sew on boot-loops so slightly that they come off at a pull. Other
brutes by whom shirt and other buttons are sewn on in the same
atrocious manner. Ptascally South London, and other tradesmen,
adulterating food. Dishonest postmen, who break letters open and
steal remittances. Miscreants, pastrycooks, and servants, who, in
making buns, plum-puddings, and mince-pies, or cakes, containing
currants, neglect to cleanse the currants from grit, and make those
who bite on it crack their teeth. Street-boys who throw orange-
peel on the pavement, and strike out slides. Italian organ-grinders
at large. All these criminals, as well for the welfare of Society as
for the advancement of Science, ought certainly to be subjected to
vivisection.
Daring Attempt.
Shakspeare was once Bowdlerised, and now Rosicell’s Johnson
has been re-written! Is there no bold spirit who will lay his hands
on Robinson Crusoe, or The Pilgrim’s Progress, or The Vicar of
Wakefield ?
Vol. 66.
2