DOI issue:
November 6, 1880
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17764#0216
208
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[November 6, 188u.
Mike,” alias
“ WALTZING'EM,”
WHO LEADS HIS
Creditors a
PRETTY Dance.
THE O’DOWD AT THE O’DOLPHI.
“Old Materials made up. Jobs neatly executed. Orders punc-
tually attended to ’’—not after seven. New card for the O’Dramatist.
This is the story of the ©’Dowd :—
Mike O'Dowd, son of an Irish fish salesman,
having received a liberal education and graduated
at Trinity College, Dublin, comes up to London,
takes a liking to the name of Walsingham, and
under the mistaken notion that a Walsingham
has a chance in London where an O’Dowd has
none (an error which might easily have been cor-
rected by the enterprising youth running his eye
over the list of names at the Government Offices
in Whitaker's Almanack—vide Judge-Advocate
General’s department), he drops his Irish name,
comes out as a Walsingham—a great acquisition
at dances where active young men are in great
request by the ladies for waltzing ’em—and being
an uncommonly sharp ebap, he so completely mas-
ters the English tongue that by the time the piece
begins there isn’t the slightest flavour of the Irish
brogue left in him. As he has been born and
bred in Ireland, this victory over the brogue is
itself a marvel, and quite prepares us to expect
great things from the talented young gentleman, gallantly represented
by Mr. Henry Neville, who has been able to accomplish so much in
so short a time.
His next happy thought is the humorous notion of borrowing
money on this capital name of Walsingham—Walsingham having
now become his stock-in-trade. This practical joke he carries to the
extent of £20,000, foolishly supplied to him by
one Mr. Romsey Leake—capitally played by
Mr. J. G. Taylor—on very insufficient security.
The conduct of the fish-salesman’s son is cha-
racteristic of his origin. “ Fishy is the word,”
as Mr. Pateman—who does a great deal with
the character of Chalker, the man in possession
—would say. Romsey Leake finding out that
Mike’s father is worth £20,000, comes down on
him to pay his son’s debts, and save him from
disgrace. But from what disgrace is the ques-
tion F His son’s friends by this time know all
about him, and have condoned the offence.
Even the wealthy widow to whom he was pay-
ing his addresses—the only thing apparently
that he ever did pay—has forgiven him, and
all his old associates have been backing him,
as O'Dowd, in his canvass for his native
borough, which it is his ambition to represent in Parliament.
Perhaps in the face of a future Election Commission there might
have been some difficulty as to advancing such a large sum for
election expenses; but as he has gained the day before the appear-
ance of his creditor, the £20,000 would never have come under the
head of Bribery and Corruption. Had this idea occurred to any one
of them, of course the play would have been brought to a sudden
termination in the Third Act; indeed, it need not have gone beyond
the Second ; and Mr. Boucicault would not have had an opportunity
of reminding us of Mr. Sheil
Barry in Les Cloches de Corne-
ville, on whom the loss of his
hoarded money has the same
effect as the discovery of his
son’s swindling has on Daddy
O' Dowd.
In the last Act kind old Daddy
recovers his senses, in accord-
ance with the stereotyped stage
plan of “clock strikes—he re-
members to have heard a clock
strike in his early childhood,
bursts into tears,” and bis rea-
son returns. Instead of the clock,
it is the recurrence of a situa-
tion similar to one of which he and his son Mike had been the
heroes a iong time ago. History repeats itself; and dramatic authors
and actors repeat themselves and other people too with more or
less success.
Well—that’s all. Few people are interested in Walsingham alias
O'Dowd; and all are disappointed at Mr. Boucicault’s not being
a rollicking, careless, Irish peasant throughout, the hero of a sensa-
tional drama. The piece is admirably put on to the stage. Mr.
Frew’s .Barney Toole is an excellent sketch; and Mr. E. Compton,
reminding us forcibly of his father’s manner, plays the difficult part
of a young swell who in the first Act has to gush considerably, in a
The O’Dowd and the O’Dowdy.
thoroughly natural and unaffected manuer. He has all the makings
of a genuine light comedian. Mr. J. Cooper plays Wilcox, Lady
Rose Lawless's butler, so well in the Second Act,
that we were not at all surprised when, on Lady
Rose going to Ireland, we saw him promoted to
be the Sheriff of Bally-na-Cuish, and conducting the
proceedings with the utmost courtesy and impar-
tiality. He did not seem to he recognised by hi,"
former employer, nor by any of her guests in whom
he had previously been in constant attendance ;
but this might be chiefly owing to his having
adopted a new wig, and his having picked up the
Irish brogue with as great facility as Mike O'Doivd
had dropped it. Bridget O' Dowd (Miss Le Tbierk)
is about as useful and ornamental as the unfor-
tunate widow who was the cause of the recent
Merivale and Ward litigation. Mr. H. Proctor
is suited in Colonel Muldoon, and Miss Lydia Foote,
as Kitty M'Coul. looks less “ my cool ” than “ my
comfortable.” Why does she go about London
without a bonnet ? Only orange-women and flower-
girls do this in town ; and surely Daddy O' Dowd'&
niece wouldn’t have come all the way from Ireland1
like that P If Mr. Botjcicault knows she did, of
course that’s sufficient; but though a first-rate
stage-manager, he doesn’t know everything, or he
udden appearance of Lady Rose
Bella, who goes
to Ireland,
AND IS ADDRESS-
ED as “ Akrah!
Bella! ”
Kitty McGoul and Daddy-my-cocl-
duink.
would never have permitted the
Lawless's gorgeous powdered
footmen, in moustaches, to appear
for no earthly reason whatever at
the finish of the Second Act, j ust
to distract the attention of the
audience and spoil the tableau.
If they won’t shave, and if they
must come on because they’\e
got the liveries, then let Lady
Rose explain their moustaches
as a little eccentric fancy of hi r
own. Miss Pateman plays Lady
Rose very cleverly. But thin
she is very clever in everything,
specially when it doesn’t suit
her in the least (like this part),
and then she triumphs.
We stayed to welcome Mrs. Mellon in the after-piece, and wished
there had been something for her in the drama.
The capital little troupe at
St. George’s Hall are always
welcome company. There is j
not the slightest danger in j
trusting to A.. Reed in Langham :
Place, and the Corney Grain j
planted in the same locality in-
variably yields a crop of plea-
sant chaff. To suit the clerical
element in the audience, the
management have wisely pro-
vided themselves with A
Bishop, and have engaged Miss
Hudspeth (Mrs. Phelps), who
developes (or as a reckless pun-
ster might say, de-phel'ps) con-
siderable talent. The Haunted
Room, the latest addition to Mr. Grain’s repertoire of musical sketches,
is as good as any of its predecessors—which
is saying; a great deal. The clever mimicry
of the Village Choir is full of local colouring ;
and the imitation of the various clocks, inclu-
sive of the short, sharp American timepiece,
is something to laugh over and remember.
The present “First Part” of the Entertain-
ment is illustrated with extremely pretty
music by Mr. Lionel Benson, and is capitally
acted all round. Mr. Alfred Reed in the
Second Part is seen to great advantage (in
more senses than one) as the “Eat Boy” out
of “ Pickwick ” into a Public School. Nothing
could be better than his assumption of boyish
bumptiousness, cowardice, and good-nature.
Mr. Reed has long since matured into a
very excellent comedian. Extremely funny
too is Mr. Grain as a priggish pedagogue ;
and Miss Edith Brandon is charming. Alto-
gether, St. George’s Hall is (as the Guide 0E
Books would say of the Market Pump) “well rather, the Over-
worthy of a visit.” Eaten Boy.
‘Cum Grano.”
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[November 6, 188u.
Mike,” alias
“ WALTZING'EM,”
WHO LEADS HIS
Creditors a
PRETTY Dance.
THE O’DOWD AT THE O’DOLPHI.
“Old Materials made up. Jobs neatly executed. Orders punc-
tually attended to ’’—not after seven. New card for the O’Dramatist.
This is the story of the ©’Dowd :—
Mike O'Dowd, son of an Irish fish salesman,
having received a liberal education and graduated
at Trinity College, Dublin, comes up to London,
takes a liking to the name of Walsingham, and
under the mistaken notion that a Walsingham
has a chance in London where an O’Dowd has
none (an error which might easily have been cor-
rected by the enterprising youth running his eye
over the list of names at the Government Offices
in Whitaker's Almanack—vide Judge-Advocate
General’s department), he drops his Irish name,
comes out as a Walsingham—a great acquisition
at dances where active young men are in great
request by the ladies for waltzing ’em—and being
an uncommonly sharp ebap, he so completely mas-
ters the English tongue that by the time the piece
begins there isn’t the slightest flavour of the Irish
brogue left in him. As he has been born and
bred in Ireland, this victory over the brogue is
itself a marvel, and quite prepares us to expect
great things from the talented young gentleman, gallantly represented
by Mr. Henry Neville, who has been able to accomplish so much in
so short a time.
His next happy thought is the humorous notion of borrowing
money on this capital name of Walsingham—Walsingham having
now become his stock-in-trade. This practical joke he carries to the
extent of £20,000, foolishly supplied to him by
one Mr. Romsey Leake—capitally played by
Mr. J. G. Taylor—on very insufficient security.
The conduct of the fish-salesman’s son is cha-
racteristic of his origin. “ Fishy is the word,”
as Mr. Pateman—who does a great deal with
the character of Chalker, the man in possession
—would say. Romsey Leake finding out that
Mike’s father is worth £20,000, comes down on
him to pay his son’s debts, and save him from
disgrace. But from what disgrace is the ques-
tion F His son’s friends by this time know all
about him, and have condoned the offence.
Even the wealthy widow to whom he was pay-
ing his addresses—the only thing apparently
that he ever did pay—has forgiven him, and
all his old associates have been backing him,
as O'Dowd, in his canvass for his native
borough, which it is his ambition to represent in Parliament.
Perhaps in the face of a future Election Commission there might
have been some difficulty as to advancing such a large sum for
election expenses; but as he has gained the day before the appear-
ance of his creditor, the £20,000 would never have come under the
head of Bribery and Corruption. Had this idea occurred to any one
of them, of course the play would have been brought to a sudden
termination in the Third Act; indeed, it need not have gone beyond
the Second ; and Mr. Boucicault would not have had an opportunity
of reminding us of Mr. Sheil
Barry in Les Cloches de Corne-
ville, on whom the loss of his
hoarded money has the same
effect as the discovery of his
son’s swindling has on Daddy
O' Dowd.
In the last Act kind old Daddy
recovers his senses, in accord-
ance with the stereotyped stage
plan of “clock strikes—he re-
members to have heard a clock
strike in his early childhood,
bursts into tears,” and bis rea-
son returns. Instead of the clock,
it is the recurrence of a situa-
tion similar to one of which he and his son Mike had been the
heroes a iong time ago. History repeats itself; and dramatic authors
and actors repeat themselves and other people too with more or
less success.
Well—that’s all. Few people are interested in Walsingham alias
O'Dowd; and all are disappointed at Mr. Boucicault’s not being
a rollicking, careless, Irish peasant throughout, the hero of a sensa-
tional drama. The piece is admirably put on to the stage. Mr.
Frew’s .Barney Toole is an excellent sketch; and Mr. E. Compton,
reminding us forcibly of his father’s manner, plays the difficult part
of a young swell who in the first Act has to gush considerably, in a
The O’Dowd and the O’Dowdy.
thoroughly natural and unaffected manuer. He has all the makings
of a genuine light comedian. Mr. J. Cooper plays Wilcox, Lady
Rose Lawless's butler, so well in the Second Act,
that we were not at all surprised when, on Lady
Rose going to Ireland, we saw him promoted to
be the Sheriff of Bally-na-Cuish, and conducting the
proceedings with the utmost courtesy and impar-
tiality. He did not seem to he recognised by hi,"
former employer, nor by any of her guests in whom
he had previously been in constant attendance ;
but this might be chiefly owing to his having
adopted a new wig, and his having picked up the
Irish brogue with as great facility as Mike O'Doivd
had dropped it. Bridget O' Dowd (Miss Le Tbierk)
is about as useful and ornamental as the unfor-
tunate widow who was the cause of the recent
Merivale and Ward litigation. Mr. H. Proctor
is suited in Colonel Muldoon, and Miss Lydia Foote,
as Kitty M'Coul. looks less “ my cool ” than “ my
comfortable.” Why does she go about London
without a bonnet ? Only orange-women and flower-
girls do this in town ; and surely Daddy O' Dowd'&
niece wouldn’t have come all the way from Ireland1
like that P If Mr. Botjcicault knows she did, of
course that’s sufficient; but though a first-rate
stage-manager, he doesn’t know everything, or he
udden appearance of Lady Rose
Bella, who goes
to Ireland,
AND IS ADDRESS-
ED as “ Akrah!
Bella! ”
Kitty McGoul and Daddy-my-cocl-
duink.
would never have permitted the
Lawless's gorgeous powdered
footmen, in moustaches, to appear
for no earthly reason whatever at
the finish of the Second Act, j ust
to distract the attention of the
audience and spoil the tableau.
If they won’t shave, and if they
must come on because they’\e
got the liveries, then let Lady
Rose explain their moustaches
as a little eccentric fancy of hi r
own. Miss Pateman plays Lady
Rose very cleverly. But thin
she is very clever in everything,
specially when it doesn’t suit
her in the least (like this part),
and then she triumphs.
We stayed to welcome Mrs. Mellon in the after-piece, and wished
there had been something for her in the drama.
The capital little troupe at
St. George’s Hall are always
welcome company. There is j
not the slightest danger in j
trusting to A.. Reed in Langham :
Place, and the Corney Grain j
planted in the same locality in-
variably yields a crop of plea-
sant chaff. To suit the clerical
element in the audience, the
management have wisely pro-
vided themselves with A
Bishop, and have engaged Miss
Hudspeth (Mrs. Phelps), who
developes (or as a reckless pun-
ster might say, de-phel'ps) con-
siderable talent. The Haunted
Room, the latest addition to Mr. Grain’s repertoire of musical sketches,
is as good as any of its predecessors—which
is saying; a great deal. The clever mimicry
of the Village Choir is full of local colouring ;
and the imitation of the various clocks, inclu-
sive of the short, sharp American timepiece,
is something to laugh over and remember.
The present “First Part” of the Entertain-
ment is illustrated with extremely pretty
music by Mr. Lionel Benson, and is capitally
acted all round. Mr. Alfred Reed in the
Second Part is seen to great advantage (in
more senses than one) as the “Eat Boy” out
of “ Pickwick ” into a Public School. Nothing
could be better than his assumption of boyish
bumptiousness, cowardice, and good-nature.
Mr. Reed has long since matured into a
very excellent comedian. Extremely funny
too is Mr. Grain as a priggish pedagogue ;
and Miss Edith Brandon is charming. Alto-
gether, St. George’s Hall is (as the Guide 0E
Books would say of the Market Pump) “well rather, the Over-
worthy of a visit.” Eaten Boy.
‘Cum Grano.”