Punch: Punch (75.1878)

IGO

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[October 12, 1878.

career, and, in spite of the disadvantage of her oily origin, she
achieved a social success -which even transcended in its glory that
of the better-born beauties, her predecessors on the throne of
Fashion, whose features are so familiar to us all, and about -whose
doings, and careerings, and dressings, and so forth, "we hear so much
through the fashionable prints.

Indeed, all Mrs. Spratt's movements, where she went, what she
wore, and how she looked in it, were duly chronicled for us week by
week, and our mouths would water as we read how "Mrs. Spratt
honoured a small-and-early at Marlborough House with her pre-
sence," or " was graciously pleased to attend the State.Ball at'Buck-
ingham Palace," &c, &c, &c.

Her portraits appeared in all the illustrated papers down to the
Police Neivs, and was printed on pocket-handkerchiefs, and stamped
on fusee-boxes and cigar-cases, and cut out in gingerbread at coun-
try fairs ; and her photographs, in every size, in every attitude, in
every variety of dress and want of dress, were exhibited in the
shop-windows, along with those of rival beauties of the world which
has no English name. They were at all prices—from a shilling
upwards; a reduction made on taking a quantity. So that even
'Arry, who is as partial to lovely woman as his betters, could afford
to hang her up, framed and glazed, in his humble abode, and re-
create his soul by the contemplation of her peerless charms through
a magnifying glass, and descant thereon with his pals, and make
comparisons, in his knowing way, between her and other beauties
of his collection, and have a real good time.

And, much as he dislikes 'Arrt, Mr. Punch is bound to admit
that in this particular instance poor 'Arry showred rather to advan-
tage, and was really more chivalrous, delicate, and romantic in his
imaginary delectations than were the gorgeous, gilded, glittering
Swells—possibly because he gazed on those peerless charms from
below, as on some bright particular star.

But we will leave the erotic 'Arry, and return to Mrs. Spratt,
who, wherever she went, was so mobbed that you might have taken
her for an accident, or a row, or a fit, or a pickpocket caught in the
act, instead of a pretty woman! She was even mobbed by titled
crowds at royal and ducal garden-parties, where a couple of police-
men were always retained to make a way for her to the strawberries-
and-cream ; and at State balls, dowager-peeresses would almost climb
on to the backs of good-looking young actors to catch a glimpse
of the beautiful Mrs. Spratt dancing with Royalty.

In vain she sought a refuge from this fashionable persecution in
the solitudes of Rosherville, or the groves of Hampstead Heath on a
Bank holiday. Even there she was recognised (by our friend 'Arry,
no doubt), and knock'emdowns, nigger minstrels and all, even the
good old game of " kiss-in-the-ring," were deserted to stare at her,
(just as at Chiswick and Campden Hill; for human nature is the
same everywhere.)

When she appeared at the Opera, Patti sang in vain. In vain
did our most fashionable preachers preach when Mrs. Spratt made
one of the congregation; in vain did Messrs. Huxley or Tyndall
lecture in Albemarle Street, or Professor Max Muller at West-
minster Abbey, if Mrs. Spratt were among the lectured. Even
the whales at the Aquarium would look small by Mrs. Spratt's
side, and Cleopatra's Needle would lose its point if Mrs. Spratt
drove on the Embankment. At the Crystal Palace people forgot
to listen to the big organ; the cattle at the Cattle Show were left in
peace; Irish Members obstructed Home Rulers; Mr. Gladstone
lost the thread of his impeachment; Captain Shaw lost all control
over his men; North London trains ran into Metropolitan; pleasure-
vans drove, hooraying, into Marshall and Snelgrove's ; steam-
rollers rolled bang into Center's or Grange's ; Old Bailey juries
forgot to listen, Old Bailey Judges to sum up, Old Bailey barristers
were condemned to death, Old Bailey solicitors removed in the van,
while murderers left the Court without a stain on their character ;
and Heaven knows what all besides! and all through Mrs. Spratt
being there. Indeed, the only people who in that magic presence
seemed to retain some self-possession, and keep an eye to business
as well as an eye to beauty, were the pickpockets, who voted
Mrs. Spratt a public benefactor; and the photographers, who
blessed her very name !

Even abroad her influence was felt; for it was whispered in high

political circles that at the Cabul Conference Lord B- cunningly

distracted old Prince G-''s attention from the matter in hand by

flowery descriptions of Mrs. Spratt's charms, and so demoralised

that venerable statesman, that Count S- had repeatedly to call

him to order; but-was nearly lost to the C-for all that.

And the best of it is, that everybody wondered how everybody
else could be such a fool! especially the intelligent foreigner, who
could not make out why, in this land of pretty women, there should
be so much commotion about one pretty woman the more. And
not such a very pretty woman either, he thought; for prettiness is
a matter of taste, and not a mathematical certainty; and he would
shrug his shoulders, and exclaim, " Sont-ils droles, ces Anglais, sont-
ils droles ! "

FORE-WHEEL AND WOE.

A WAIL.

I 'm not a woman-hater,
Yet 'tis but human natur'
To roundly execrate her
Who, to her sex a traitor,
Becomes participator
In fiendish deeds. I rate her
A kind of female Satyr,
And would exterminate her,
Together with her pater,
Her mater, and her/rater !
I would assimilate her
With grisly Alligator—
I 'd blow her up—inflate her

With gas, and elevate her,
And drop her in a crater.
If this would not abate her,
I 'd take and saturate her
With tar and feathers. Later,
I would excoriate her !
And if there's torment greater
Why, let it still await her,
And let me be spectator—
1 so abominate her,
And all who imitate her
In wheeling on my gaiter
The vile Perambulator !

OUR REPRESENTATIVE MAN.

Sir,—I went to see Her Majesty's Servants perform William
Shakspeare's Romantic Play of The Winter's Tale. I wonder if it
was the great " situation" in the Statue Scene that first struck
William, and set him to work on this drama? It certainly is worth
waiting for. I don't think William took much pains over some
portion of the play, specially with regard to Antigonus, and his
incumbrance in " A Desert Country near the Sea"—a very awkward
spot for an elderly Gentleman, unaccustomed to children, to be
left alone in with a Baby.

William knew as well as anyone that a Baby on the stage was a
safe laugh; and how he has got over the difliculty is a study in
itself. In Scene 3 of Act I., where the Baby, in a cradle, makes its
first appearance, he distracts our attention from the Infant; and it
is Paulina, the scold, and Antigonus, the henpecked, who excite our
laughter. In " A Desert Country," the old Shepherd who finds the
Babe, is brought on as soon as possible ; and he and his son introduce
the low comedy. But the Baby is a difficulty.

Again, what is the real use of Antolycus as an aid to the plot ?
None whatever. In the present day the story would have been
told to an English audience in four Acts, and as many Scenes; and
in Paris it would have taken three Authors to write the piece ; and
they, having to share the evening's per-centage on receipts among
them, would have been very careful to have eked out the plot in as
many Acts, Tableaux, and Parts as possible, which, with the long
Entr'actes, would infallibly prevent any other piece being performed
with it to the injury of their fees. It is this desire to go m for the
entire per-centage that gives rise to the long-windedness of the
French Melodramatists, and the interminable talkiness of Sardou,
who, until he positively feels that he has tried even the endurance
of a Parisian audience to its limits, is a sort of Wandering Jew of
dramatic dialogue. The Winter's Tale, in the hands of French
Authors, would have been told over and over again, ad nauseam, in
the course of the piece.

It seemed to me that even the innate British reverence for the text
of the Divine Williams was scarcely strong enough to prevent the
densely-packed audience inDrury Lane from expressing their dis-
taste for the repulsive exhibition of jealousy displayed by Leontes
in the First Act.

The Divine Williams made no ado about calling a spade a spade,
and in Mr. Charles Dillon's reading of the part, the lines lose
nothing of their revolting coarseness. That the King's jealousy is