Punch (73.1877)

96

PUNCH, OK, THE LONDON OHAEIVABI. [September 1, 1877.

THE ECLIPSE OF THE MOON.

[By Observer Haayfinch.)

he zummer'day wus ended ;

The sky wus clear and bright;
The Moon wus shinun splendid,

Like a cheese o zilveree light.
The zilunce wus unbroken,

Whilst, restun arter tile,
My pipe in pace a smokun,

I zat athurt a stile.

Till that there son o' labour,

Dick Dumper, he come by,
And says, " Howbistthee, neighbour ?"

In aanswer, " Chuff," says I.
" But what look'st thee so glum at—

Like an owl at an air-balloon ? "
" I thinks as how there's zummat

The matter wi' the Moon."

And sure aloft just peepun,

There I zee like what med sim
A gurt brown counter, creepun

Upon the Moon's left rim ;
"Which sight made Dick to holler,

" 'Tis like a dragon's snout,
The Moon a gwiun to swaller."

An ignurnt countree lout!

" What, dostn't know what that there is,

For sich folly to 'scape thy lips ?
That monster as meaks thee stare is,

Thee Mooncalf, the Moon's Eclipse.
There was prawfuts to foorwarn thee

If theed'st sense and eyes to look,
Why, didn't thy Almanac lam thee ?

Or ca'stn't thee rade thy book ? "

Says Dick, " I bain't no scollard,

But that there zign in the sky,
Wun't a zoon wi' war be foiler'd,

Or a fammun or plagbimeby ? "
" Yaa, Dick, thee wanted'st swishun,

At Sunday School, 'tis true,
But loor, by sooperstishun

How thee bist ate up too !

" No faith in zigns dwoan't pleeace,

That, what a zign thee 'st call,
Is the Earth on the Moon's bright veeace,

A vlingun a shade—that's all.
Zigns han't no zignifications,

He's a donkey and Simon Pure
As belaves the ass-severations,

0' Zadkiel and Fbansus Mooee."

Zo we watched the Eclipse, like many,

Till the Moon turned copper-brown,
And her veeace looked like a penny,

Instead o' a half-o'-crown.
Then agenst the hour o' closun,—

When the. Rising Sun they clear,
And drive us all whoam to dozun,—

We went for our drops o' beer.

TRUTH IN A HOLY WELL.

Persons about to proceed on pilgrimages to
such sacred places as Lourdes and La Salette
should meditate on the following illustration of

" Eeligious Mania.—Two young girls in a fit of
religious enthusiasm have drowned themselves in the
Holy Well at Marpingen, in Ehenish Prussia. The
miraculous power of the well—a recent Ultramontane
discovery—gave rise a short time ago to painful dis-
closures, which necessitated the interference of the
police."

So that whether or no the well at Marpingen has
the power of curing, it certainly has that of kill-
ing. Like all wells which are deep enough, it
occasionally drowns people—and no wonder. If
it had only refused to drown those religious
enthusiasts, the two young girls who jumped
into it in a paroxysm of their disorder—what a
miracle that would have been for the Ultramon-
tanes! Miraculous wells in general, we would
profanely suggest, are different from the well
wherein Truth lies.

DRY GRAZING GROUND.
According to the Meat and Provision Trades'
Review, Consul Peeceval, at Port Said, invited
to report on the cattle that could be supplied to
England from his district, returned Lord Derby
the following answer j—

" My Lord,—With reference to the Foreign Office Cir-
cular of the 19th. ult., I have the honour to inform your
Lordship that, the whole of my district being desert,
there are no sheep or cattle thereon."

What was the Foreign Office thinking of to
request information respecting the amount of
animal food obtainable from the desert about Port
Said ? Anyone must have known it would supply
nothing, in the beef or mutton way, except in the
form of the venerable pun, "The sand-wich you
find there."

Ex-Nilo.—The Nile refuses to rise _ as usual.
No doubt Me. Stanley has succeeded in turning
off the upper waters into another channel. The
D. T. will in due time inform us.

OUR REPRESENTATIVE MAN AT A BALLET.

Sir,—A Ballet! a very pet of a Ballet! I haven't seen such a
thing for years. Do you remember what Box said to Cox as a
reason for his not having seen the Bosjesmans, a popular exhibition
when that old farce was new. No, sir, I haven't seen them. My
wife wouldn't let me." Of cotirse, this was not the reason for my not
having witnessed a ballet for years, but still I thought I could not
better improve the occasion offered by the fact of Your Represen-
tative's Representative, his alter ego (or his other eye), being at the
sea-side, than by dropping in at 10 p.m., a most convenient hour,
at the Alhambra, in order to see Ms. Thompson's Yolande, to which
I had alluded in my letter last week. Let me at once say that
Mr. Jacob's music is light, graceful, and, where necessary, dramatic;
and that Me. Calcott's scenery, specially the Japanese Scene, with
cascade of real water, is most picturesque. The costumes again,
specially the Japanese, are thoroughly novel, and the combination of
colour grouped on the stage is as effective as anything hitherto
produced at this place.

"Story, God bless you," a ballet generally seems to say, like the
needy Knife-grinder, " I have none to tell you;" but this is not so
with Me. Thompson's Yolande. The novelty in the Yolande is the
fact of there being a story, though not a very strong or long one, told
in pantomime by four principal characters, of whom Mlle. Gilleet
does far more than mere posing, posturing, and dancing. She acts,
and her fall, after the capitally fought duel with M. A. Josset, in
the first scene, had it been in a melodrama, would have electrified
the house. The interest of the story ceases, unfortunately, with
the first Scene, which, as I have hinted, is a little drama in
itself.

I see by the programme that this "Romantic Ballet and Action "
was " invented and designed" by Me. Alfeeb Thompson, while the
dances were the work of Mons. A. Beeteanb, of the Grand Opera
Paris. Clearly, then, the Author of the Ballet invents the actions
which are to translate his story to the Public. How does he do it ?
Does he go through it in his own study ? Does he try all the

business, all the " action" of the scene by himself to himself, and
" not say nothing to nobody." I am deeply interested.
I should like to write a ballet. Enter Antonio. Antonio strokes

Ms face three times _ to indicate--What P I don't know. Who

knows ? I can imagine actions for love (which would be breach of
promise cases, and others in the Court of Loeb Penzance), also for
hunger, and despair; but what does a ballet-dancer mean by stroking
her own face with her right hand, unless she wishes to convey the
idea that the person she is in love with has (or has not) a beard ?
Why does she imperiously point to her right toe ? Why does she
spread out both her hands and shake her head at the public, and
then run away ? Why do lovers in ballets always have a little game
with a rose or a bouquet, the gentleman dancer offering it and with-
drawing it, and the lady running away, under his arm, to the other
side of the stage ? Where did this originate ? Is it the custom of
any country whatever ? If so, where ? And aren't they tired of it
by this time ?

Yolande, it is true, has this hide-and-seek bouquet dance in it,
but otherwise it is novel and original, and it is a step—or rather
steps—in the right direction, that is, in the direction of' a ballet of
interest as well a ballet of action. But if I am asked to write a
ballet " of action," I should consult a solicitor, a dancing solicitor,
of course.

Hoping that the Alhambra Company generally will appreciate
the interest of Yolande, and recommending the stayers in town to
see it, I remain ever youe Representative.

Apropos Acrostic.

P AENELL.
0 'D0NNELL.
N OLAN.
G BAT.

0 'Gorman.

BiGtGAR is omitted in deference to the Anthropoid's feelings.