DOI issue:
October 26, 1878
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17733#0188
184
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[October 26, 1878.
Truly, our heaviest troubles are often our best friends, and we
ought to make a good deal more of them than we generally do. At
all events, Jack's failure proved a very good friend to Jack; for it
not only brought home to him, before it was too late, the fact that
he was no genius, and that his early success had been a fluke, and
that his twopenny-halfpenny Art was but " the milder echo of an
echo mild ; " but it also brought his grandfather to his side again,
and the fatted calf was killed, and the reconciliation complete.
]STow, this facetious old Philistine, who was over ninety, had taken
it into his head that his was a critical time of life, and that he
required, for a few years at least, some rest from the cares of his
trade ; and it was arranged that the emporium in St. Mary Axe (a
very genteel and snug little business) should be managed by Jack,
whose property it would eventually become ; and that Spratt Senior
should spend the remainder of his days in peice under the same roof
as his grand- and great-grandchildren, and be the object of their
loving care as long as it should please Heaven to spare him.
Mrs. Spratt, a wiser, if not a sadder woman, is once more the
brightest ornament of ner home; her locks have grown again in
all their sable splendour, the roses and lilies are blooming once more
in her cheeks, and she is as plump and hearty as when she used
to darn the family socks, ever so many months ago. It is once more
to darn the family socks (she says) that she has given up the hollow
world ; but this must be taken figuratively, for there is always an
unlimited supply of those useful articles from St. Mary Axe.
She has exchanged her spinning-wheel for a sewing-machine, and
her skipping-rope for a lawn-tennis racket, which she plies with
unerring grace and precision. And if she still reads the old tales of
chivalry aloud, it is only for the benefit of the twins, who are just
rising five, and therefore of an age most keenly to appreciate those
beautiful legends.
She dresses just like any of her neighbours, only better, and her
stately beauty is much admired. Indeed, when she walks (no longer
mobbed) with her ruddy children (no longer quaint and old-fashioned)
in the Zoological Gardens, and Spratt Senior, that nice, clean, re-
spectable old gentleman, leaning on her arm, they form a picture of
English middle-class domestic felicity which it does the intelligent
foreigner good to see.
She never alludes to the hollow world but to speak of the folly of
its _ men and the vanity of its women in terms of scorn and detes-
tation, untinged, let us hope, with either envy or regret; and if she
does take in the fashionable prints, it is only for the sake of their
political opinions, and the graces of their literary style.
And she has always a bright smile for Jack when he comes home
from business ; and he is never without some elegant little article in
the way of underclothing, bright-coloured and of delicate texture,
either for the twins or herself.
Finally, she has returned to the simple faith of her forefathers,
and worships at Eyre Chapel, near the Ebenezer Arms.
And the trusty friends r
Well, they have come back to the arms of Spratt, as true and as
trusty as ever, but in different guise.
Disgusted at never finding a publisher, and to revenge himself on
the world for its neglect, Peter Leonardo Pye has forsworn the
Muse, and is now travelling for his father's firm. He has hardly as
yet acquired that ready smartness so useful in such an occupation,
but is much improved in health and appearance, dresses better,
and, though somewhat reserved and dreamy, is not unpopular " on
the road ; " and Mr. Punch more than suspects that his facility for
writing verse has been turned to account in certain widely-circulated
panegyrics of Pye and Son's masculine head-gear, unequalled for
taste, cheapness, and durability; as Mr. Punch can gratefully
testify, having dealt there himself.
And so with the rest of these trusty friends ; for they can get no
churches to build, no editors to take their aesthetic essays, no pub-
lishers to print their poems. And, by some strange fatality, the
doors of the Royal Academy, and of the Grosvenor Gallery, and,
indeed, of all the Galleries, British or foreign (especially foreign),
seem inexorably closed to their productions. And having been led
thereby, and also by the persistent gnawing of their empty stomachs,
to the conviction that it is ever the fate of genius to starve, while
mediocrity battens on the fat of the land, they have very sensibly
cut the Fine Arts, and taken to commercial pursuits instead; and
they are doing uncommonly well.
They have also clipped their hair and beards, and they get their
boots and clothes at first-rate West-End establishments, and their
gloves and scarves at Spratt's (cost price), and their hats atPYE's—
like Mr. Punch.
And they can smoke their pipes and cigars, the rogues, and toss
off their brandies and sodas, and their claret cups, and their pale dry
sherries ; and even roar at the endless buffooneries of Spratt Senior
(whom they have learnt to love), in spite of the death of the grand
Old Masters. And they are always welcome at "Acacia Lodge"
as flowere in May, for whatever we may think of their genius, their
unsophisticated hearts are fond and faithful, warm and true.
And who so fit to appreciate these qualities, and hold them dear
and sacred, as those storm-tossed victims of the hollow world's
caprice, Mr. and Mrs. Jack Spratt ?
And now, virtuous Reader, having relieved thy anxiety as to the
fate of that worthy but once misguided pair, and steered them safe
and sound into such a haven of respectability as, surely, was never
reached, by such_ perilous straits before (and probably never will
be again), he will leave this tale to work its own moral in thy
thoughtful bosom, and bid thee farewell for the present; for he has
other business on hand, seeing that the sculptor's wife is giving the
sculptor, and Mr. Punch, and the Duke of Pentonville, and eke
the Duchess thereof, and a good many more people besides, a great
deal of unnecessary trouble !
OUR REPRESENTATIVE MAN.
A Word about Licensing—a Visit to the Oxford—a look in at the
Royalty, Strand, and Folly—and a look out for the future.
re has been some talk
lately about what sort of
plays the Lord Chamber-
lain ought, or ought not,
to license. Knowing that
;he line must be drawn
somewhere, let him draw
it tightly, boldly, fear-
lessly, and absolutely
refuse to give his reasons
for so doing. Let him be
thorough, and not earn
the title of Lord Half-
and-Half-ford. As the
Office exists, let the
Officer do his duty.
Whether there is any
necessity for the Office
itself, is a question
which would probably be
answered, in the affirma-
tive, by a considerable
majority.
The eminent adapter of
Les Lionnes Pauvres in
his calmer moments, when
alone in his conservatory
watching his '' growing
dramatic reputation,"
will probably be grateful
to the Licenser for hav-
£ | I' V^is^ mS exercised a wise dis-
cretion in his behalf.
I can imagine, as a
fancy sketch, the Licenser
out early in the morning
" exercising his discre-
tion," and just nodding
over the wall, as he trots
by Mr. Mathison's house, and asking him in a friendly way, " how
his growing dramatic reputation is getting on?" All a-blowing,
all a-growing ? Wasn't there a nigger tune some years ago called
" O Billy Pattison .'. " Its rhythm and tune are appropriate :—
"Why such a play to adapt did you choose ?
0 Arthur Mathison !
"Which Mr. Censor was bound to refuse ?
0 Arthur Mathison !
But does this line, drawn by the Lord Chamberlain, extend to
the Tight and Slack Rope, to the perilous acrobatic performances
that are so often the great attraction at the Music-Halls ?
For example, as Your Representative, Sir—as the Representative
of Lord Chamberlain Punch—than whom no better Censor Morum
exists—I visited the Oxford Music-Hail. It was crowded. The
Stalls are more uncomfortable than at any other place of amusement
I can just now call to mind. The stall-audience was much the same
as all such audiences usually are, and—what invariably astonishes
me at these places—the proportion of thoroughly respectable-looking
women, with the comfortable air of well-to-do lodging-house keepers
of the Bloomsbury Division, was really remarkable, reminding me
much of a German audience, where a whole family take a table, in
some festive entertainment of singing and music, and remain at it
for hours, with the accompaniment of mild beer in long glasses,
cigars at five for twopence, a hunk of bread, and some slices of milk-
white veal. The very swell fast element does not seem to enter
into the composition of an Oxford, Music-Hall, to any appreciable
extent.
I insist upon the respectability of the audience, as showing
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[October 26, 1878.
Truly, our heaviest troubles are often our best friends, and we
ought to make a good deal more of them than we generally do. At
all events, Jack's failure proved a very good friend to Jack; for it
not only brought home to him, before it was too late, the fact that
he was no genius, and that his early success had been a fluke, and
that his twopenny-halfpenny Art was but " the milder echo of an
echo mild ; " but it also brought his grandfather to his side again,
and the fatted calf was killed, and the reconciliation complete.
]STow, this facetious old Philistine, who was over ninety, had taken
it into his head that his was a critical time of life, and that he
required, for a few years at least, some rest from the cares of his
trade ; and it was arranged that the emporium in St. Mary Axe (a
very genteel and snug little business) should be managed by Jack,
whose property it would eventually become ; and that Spratt Senior
should spend the remainder of his days in peice under the same roof
as his grand- and great-grandchildren, and be the object of their
loving care as long as it should please Heaven to spare him.
Mrs. Spratt, a wiser, if not a sadder woman, is once more the
brightest ornament of ner home; her locks have grown again in
all their sable splendour, the roses and lilies are blooming once more
in her cheeks, and she is as plump and hearty as when she used
to darn the family socks, ever so many months ago. It is once more
to darn the family socks (she says) that she has given up the hollow
world ; but this must be taken figuratively, for there is always an
unlimited supply of those useful articles from St. Mary Axe.
She has exchanged her spinning-wheel for a sewing-machine, and
her skipping-rope for a lawn-tennis racket, which she plies with
unerring grace and precision. And if she still reads the old tales of
chivalry aloud, it is only for the benefit of the twins, who are just
rising five, and therefore of an age most keenly to appreciate those
beautiful legends.
She dresses just like any of her neighbours, only better, and her
stately beauty is much admired. Indeed, when she walks (no longer
mobbed) with her ruddy children (no longer quaint and old-fashioned)
in the Zoological Gardens, and Spratt Senior, that nice, clean, re-
spectable old gentleman, leaning on her arm, they form a picture of
English middle-class domestic felicity which it does the intelligent
foreigner good to see.
She never alludes to the hollow world but to speak of the folly of
its _ men and the vanity of its women in terms of scorn and detes-
tation, untinged, let us hope, with either envy or regret; and if she
does take in the fashionable prints, it is only for the sake of their
political opinions, and the graces of their literary style.
And she has always a bright smile for Jack when he comes home
from business ; and he is never without some elegant little article in
the way of underclothing, bright-coloured and of delicate texture,
either for the twins or herself.
Finally, she has returned to the simple faith of her forefathers,
and worships at Eyre Chapel, near the Ebenezer Arms.
And the trusty friends r
Well, they have come back to the arms of Spratt, as true and as
trusty as ever, but in different guise.
Disgusted at never finding a publisher, and to revenge himself on
the world for its neglect, Peter Leonardo Pye has forsworn the
Muse, and is now travelling for his father's firm. He has hardly as
yet acquired that ready smartness so useful in such an occupation,
but is much improved in health and appearance, dresses better,
and, though somewhat reserved and dreamy, is not unpopular " on
the road ; " and Mr. Punch more than suspects that his facility for
writing verse has been turned to account in certain widely-circulated
panegyrics of Pye and Son's masculine head-gear, unequalled for
taste, cheapness, and durability; as Mr. Punch can gratefully
testify, having dealt there himself.
And so with the rest of these trusty friends ; for they can get no
churches to build, no editors to take their aesthetic essays, no pub-
lishers to print their poems. And, by some strange fatality, the
doors of the Royal Academy, and of the Grosvenor Gallery, and,
indeed, of all the Galleries, British or foreign (especially foreign),
seem inexorably closed to their productions. And having been led
thereby, and also by the persistent gnawing of their empty stomachs,
to the conviction that it is ever the fate of genius to starve, while
mediocrity battens on the fat of the land, they have very sensibly
cut the Fine Arts, and taken to commercial pursuits instead; and
they are doing uncommonly well.
They have also clipped their hair and beards, and they get their
boots and clothes at first-rate West-End establishments, and their
gloves and scarves at Spratt's (cost price), and their hats atPYE's—
like Mr. Punch.
And they can smoke their pipes and cigars, the rogues, and toss
off their brandies and sodas, and their claret cups, and their pale dry
sherries ; and even roar at the endless buffooneries of Spratt Senior
(whom they have learnt to love), in spite of the death of the grand
Old Masters. And they are always welcome at "Acacia Lodge"
as flowere in May, for whatever we may think of their genius, their
unsophisticated hearts are fond and faithful, warm and true.
And who so fit to appreciate these qualities, and hold them dear
and sacred, as those storm-tossed victims of the hollow world's
caprice, Mr. and Mrs. Jack Spratt ?
And now, virtuous Reader, having relieved thy anxiety as to the
fate of that worthy but once misguided pair, and steered them safe
and sound into such a haven of respectability as, surely, was never
reached, by such_ perilous straits before (and probably never will
be again), he will leave this tale to work its own moral in thy
thoughtful bosom, and bid thee farewell for the present; for he has
other business on hand, seeing that the sculptor's wife is giving the
sculptor, and Mr. Punch, and the Duke of Pentonville, and eke
the Duchess thereof, and a good many more people besides, a great
deal of unnecessary trouble !
OUR REPRESENTATIVE MAN.
A Word about Licensing—a Visit to the Oxford—a look in at the
Royalty, Strand, and Folly—and a look out for the future.
re has been some talk
lately about what sort of
plays the Lord Chamber-
lain ought, or ought not,
to license. Knowing that
;he line must be drawn
somewhere, let him draw
it tightly, boldly, fear-
lessly, and absolutely
refuse to give his reasons
for so doing. Let him be
thorough, and not earn
the title of Lord Half-
and-Half-ford. As the
Office exists, let the
Officer do his duty.
Whether there is any
necessity for the Office
itself, is a question
which would probably be
answered, in the affirma-
tive, by a considerable
majority.
The eminent adapter of
Les Lionnes Pauvres in
his calmer moments, when
alone in his conservatory
watching his '' growing
dramatic reputation,"
will probably be grateful
to the Licenser for hav-
£ | I' V^is^ mS exercised a wise dis-
cretion in his behalf.
I can imagine, as a
fancy sketch, the Licenser
out early in the morning
" exercising his discre-
tion," and just nodding
over the wall, as he trots
by Mr. Mathison's house, and asking him in a friendly way, " how
his growing dramatic reputation is getting on?" All a-blowing,
all a-growing ? Wasn't there a nigger tune some years ago called
" O Billy Pattison .'. " Its rhythm and tune are appropriate :—
"Why such a play to adapt did you choose ?
0 Arthur Mathison !
"Which Mr. Censor was bound to refuse ?
0 Arthur Mathison !
But does this line, drawn by the Lord Chamberlain, extend to
the Tight and Slack Rope, to the perilous acrobatic performances
that are so often the great attraction at the Music-Halls ?
For example, as Your Representative, Sir—as the Representative
of Lord Chamberlain Punch—than whom no better Censor Morum
exists—I visited the Oxford Music-Hail. It was crowded. The
Stalls are more uncomfortable than at any other place of amusement
I can just now call to mind. The stall-audience was much the same
as all such audiences usually are, and—what invariably astonishes
me at these places—the proportion of thoroughly respectable-looking
women, with the comfortable air of well-to-do lodging-house keepers
of the Bloomsbury Division, was really remarkable, reminding me
much of a German audience, where a whole family take a table, in
some festive entertainment of singing and music, and remain at it
for hours, with the accompaniment of mild beer in long glasses,
cigars at five for twopence, a hunk of bread, and some slices of milk-
white veal. The very swell fast element does not seem to enter
into the composition of an Oxford, Music-Hall, to any appreciable
extent.
I insist upon the respectability of the audience, as showing