Punch: Punch (81.1881)

240

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[November 19, 1881,

OUR LITTLE GAMES.

Cribbage. Back-gammon.

VOICE FROM THE PROMPT-BOX.

Again the sickening cry is raised about the " social status of the
Actor," and this time apropos of a paper read by Mr. Henry Prying,
at a Philosophical Institution known as The Music Hall in Edin-
burgh. The social status of the Actor is that of a well-fed, well-
clothed, well-paid—perhaps over-paid—worker in a curious pro-
fession. If he be amusing and intelligent, and behaves like a
gentleman, he is exceptionally favoured by what is called " Society;"
as most people, except a few fanatics, are interested in the world
behind the footlights. But every Actor is not necessarily amusing,
intelligent, and gentlemanly, and these are the people, probably,
who are a little uneasy about their status. If they are not content
with their pudding, the world is all before them. On the other
hand, the more favoured ones are a little apt to be spoiled by inju-
dicious patronage. "Society" is a little too ready to treat them
like pet poodles.

Why on earth does Mr. Irving yearn for the companionship of
Bishops ? Does he want to convert them all to Irvingism, and to come
and listen to him discoursing Shakspearian Inspirations in Unknown
Tongues ? Does he require Church Patronage for the Stage, and his
Theatre Stalls filled as those of a Cathedral are with Prebends, Minor
Canons and Greater Guns of the Ecclesiastical Establishment ? Is
it the height of an Actor's ambition to swell the crowd of distin-
guished Nobodies at the Duchess of Mountrouge's reception, or to
appear as a great attraction at Lady Doubtful's Assemblies, and to
be able to exhibit cards of fashionable " At Homes " in the mirror
which is held up to Nature over his mantelpiece ?

Elevation of the Stage forsooth ! We should have thought that
the Stage had elevated Mr. Irving above all such twaddle as this.

"Act well your part, there all the honour lies."

Be satisfied with this : —Live for your Art, not for that limited,
narrow, uncharitable, scandalmongering section of the great public
which calls itself " Society," and which loves to patronise Art in any
form at the least possible cost to itself. If Mr. Irving can't be
happy without a Bishop, there's one for him, and a most excellent
one, at the Opera Comique—we mean Mr. Alfred Bishop—only just
now he's engaged.

The coffee is cold at the Victoria Coffee Palace, the Music Hall
singers have departed, and the place is only opened occasionally for
spasmodic concerts, at which amiable, but comparatively obscure
connections of royalty are sometimes induced to be present. This is
all that fussy philanthropy has been able to do for the reformation of
the New Cut, while it has driven the " Transpontine Drama " into
more distinguished temples.

Queries.

Why Billingsgate Dies Hard. — Because a fish-stall is worth
five hundred pounds a year rental, and as much as sixty thousand
pounds has been paid, before now, for the Good-will and Premises
of a Fish Salesman.

Why is the Commercial Treaty Unpopular in France ?—Because
France is afraid to give up one franc of indirect taxation.

Why has Prince Bismarck become a Protector of the Jews ?—
Because, after his late parliamentary defeat, he can hardly help
himself.

The School for Scandal.—St. Paiil's Industrial.

ROBEBT AT THE GUILDHALL BANQUET.

I wunder if anybody ever quite realeyesed the sensashun of
rapshur as must have come over a certain Right Honerable Gent
this morning. Mr. Alderman Ellis when he sort his downy couch
last nite proberbably said to his Wally, " Good Mte, Jeames ! " to
which Jeames wood naterally reply, " Good Nite, Sir ! "

But this morning a well known wrap cums to the door, and in
anser to " Who's there ? " cums the delishus reply, " Eight o'clock,
my Lord " !

Ah that must be a sensayshun wurth a good many long ears wait-
ing for ! But then cums the other end of the Pictur, the doctoring
of compensations, I think the Surveyors calls it.

The Rite Honerable Mr. McArthur, Lord Mare of London, retired
to his Lordly couch last nite, and with that curtesy that nobless
obliges, said to his Groom of the Chambers, " Good Nite, Brymer ! "
to which Brymer replied, "Good Nite, my Lord!" But this
morning, another voice knocks at his chamber door, and says boldly,
"Eight o'clock,_Sir!"

I draws a Wail over the sad scene and passes on.

We had a werry fine day for that momenteous ewent that stirs the
big art of London to its core, and stops all the common traffic of the
streets for ours, annuelly every year, but the splender of the scene
would have been suffishent without no Sun to show it off, in fack, as
Brown said, the jawgeus uniforms of the Lord Mare and Sherryfs
Gentlemen was as good as a dozen Suns. Ah! they was summut
like they was ! I think on the hole some of the best I ever seed,
speshally Sherryf Handsome's, as one would naterally expec.

I didn't think much of the Fire Brigade. They seems a ruff and
reddy lot, and their common clothes didn't armouronise at all with
the delicate plush of the Gents above eluded to.

The Beedle of one of the Companys, whose an old frend of mine,
told me as the crowd was emense, but he thort not quite so respectfool
as they mite have been. He said they seemed to look upon the
whole thing as more of a November La,rk, than a August Sherry-
moneyall.

It seems to me that reverence is almost a dying out among the
grinning and uneddicated Mob, and even such a noble Site as the
Lord Mare's Show is looked upon by 'em almost as a Joke !

I missed my fav'rites, the Men in Armour. I trust their much
regretted, and much remarked absense, is not to be taken as a sine
of yeelding a single pint to the Public Enemy, for depend upon it, if
they give him a ninch he '11 take a hell !

The Bankwet was simply perfec. When I first attended them
purfeshonally, they used to print in all the newspapers the number
of Tworeans of Turtil Soup consumed on the premises. I wonders
why this isn't done now. It must have had a startling effect on the
poor devils who had never even smelt it. Have they got rather
ashamed of the quantity as they eats ? If not, why this inner -
wayshun ? 1 sumtimes thinks that since the shamful report was
spread about the Irish Congo Eels being made into Turtel Soup, they
ain't quite so eager after it, speshally the thick golopshus sort.
Werry few of even the Dejmtys taking more than twice.

The Company wasn't quite fust rate. We hadn't no Dooks, and I
never thinks a grand Bankwet is quite A one unless we has a Dook
or 2. A Archbishop might do, but Archbishops seems scarce.

The new Lord Mare has got a fine loud woice of his own, and he
didn't forget to make jolly good use of it, quite in the old Haider-
maniac style of his successors before him, as different as possible
from poor Mr. Gladstones who hadn't a chance with him.

We tried the Lectrick Light for the fust time, but lor bless us that
won't do at all, not at no price. There's no hiding nothink from that.

In the first place it don't do for the Ladies, speshally the rayther
old 'uns, some on 'em seemed to have come out in such a hurry that
they had quite forgot to wash the flour off their poor old faces, and
this warn't only among some of the Common Councilwomen but
speshally among the great swells. Brown says it's this emoderate
use of flour as makes people call 'em the " Upper Crust," but I never
can trust what Brown says.

And then as to us poor Waiters, why it's as bad as if everybody
had both his eyes upon us all the time.

I'm sure with the exception of a little Turtil Soup as I managed
to get behind a curtain, and just a slice of Turkey and some Fezzant,
I had nothink to eat all dinner-time ; and as for drinking, why the
only Bottle of Shampain as I could get a chance to put under the
table, Mowed if a Lady didn't kick it over, and then acshally abused
me for putting it there out of her way, and so spiling her rubishing
dress, though it was only a mowve silk tamburine or some such
cheap rubbish, and her old Father who sat opposite skowled at me
as if I was a Tacks collector.

The fact is there's preshus few of us as can stand such a light as
that either on our faces or our actions.

The full blaze of truth like the full blaze of the sun is allers
plesenter for being just a little tempered,—pr'aps I might say, for
being just a little good-tempered. [Signed) Robert.

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