Punch: Punch (82.1882)

36 PUNCH, OE THE LONDON CHARIVAEI. rjANi-ip.v 21, 1882.

“CRI” AND LAUGH.

The revival of Tlie Great Divorce Case ought to prove as great a
success for the Criterion as it did when first produced. It is im-
mensely funny, it goes with roars of laughter, and Mr. Wyndham’s
Company act this sort of piece hetter than even the Palais Eoyal

Here ’s the Dog, after “ Where ’s the Cat ? ”

Actors—at least, for our audiences, who want the essence of fun
given them in the shortest possible time. The dialogue in the First
Act is smart, and to the point; though in the other two Acts the action
is so rapid, and the bustle so continuous, that there is scarcely time
for speaking or listening.

Mr. Maltby, as Grandison, the made-up old heau, with a failing
memory and an invincible propensity to sleep directly he sits down,
is as good a bit of acting, of course of an exaggerated and farcical
character, as can he seen in town.

Mr. Knigiit’s Pilkie is a capital contrast to the hoisterous
Geoffrey Gordon of Mr. Wyndham. If Mr. Knight could only
give up sliding over the carpet, instead of walking, and throwing,
inconsistently, melodramatic emphasis into the part, it would be
faultless.

The great thing in this class of piece is “ go; ” and Mr. Wynd-
hah certainly does keep it going, and keep them all going, and
the theatre going too, till, on reflection—but you can’t reflect, except
when it ’s all over—it occurs to us that the keep-going may be a hit
overdone, and the same result might be obtained at a less saerifice,

GW

“ Who shall decide when Doctors disagree ? ”

which must ultimately tell on the physical condition of the Actor, and
leads the audience to demand increased exertions in every new piece
at this theatre. There is the danger. The excitement must be
kept up : reaction is fatal. Be this as it ma.y—and the case is as we
have put it, we are certain—those who, in these realistic days, want
to enjoy a real laugh at real rollicking fun—in fact, who simply
want to be amused after a day’s work, can’t do better than see The
Great Divorce Case at the Criterion.

Mrs. Ram is deeply concerned about the condition of Birmingham,
which she understands is represented by Blight and Chilblain.

“MOVING ORGANISMS.”

[Dr. Frankland reports that the Thames water sent out during
Decemher by the West Middlesex and Southwark Companies, was much
polluted with organic matter. The Grand Junction Company’s water
contained moving organisms ]

Oh, it’s sad to read what_Feanklani> of the London water writes,
And too awful are the visions that our fancy sees at nights;

Though it may be bright and sparkling like a sunbeam sent through
prisms,

Those are colours of putrescence and of “ moving organisms ! ”

If the Companies so treat us, ’tis becoming very clear,

We shall have to give up water and drink nought but wine or beer
For consider how in families what angry rows and schisms,

Will arise from that Grand Junction with its “ moving organisms.”

All the Compp.nies o’ercharge us, and, in quite a playful way,

They send bills just after Christmas which are due at Lady Day :*
And they care not for our protests and our angry criticisms,

While they poison us with sewage and with “ moving organisms !

UJApi(TTov y\v uSwp” Pindae said in song in ancient days,

And no doubt the Grecian water well deserved the poet’s praise ;

But in these times we can only mourn the ghastly cataclysms
That are likely to befall us from these “ moving organisms ! ”

* The Gi'and Junction Compnnysent out bills early in January, saying tlint
the amount is due to the Company for the supply of water to Lady Day, 1882:
that is to say, nearly three months before the said supply is completed. This
is certainly a moving organism !

“ UPROUSE YE, THER, MY MERRY, MERRY MEN ! ”

A few Gentlemen not altogether unknown in literary and dramatic
dress-circles met together about ten days ago, in camera obscurd, to
discuss the possibility of establishing classes corresponding to the
Etudes Dramatiques at the Paris Conservatoire. There is much that
is good in the idea as an idea, but we are afraid it is impracticable.
Painters have their Academy, Musicians have theirs, and are to have
a College, like Surgeons ; but Authors and Actors must get on as they
can. Let the Actors have a school by all means, as they say they
want it, and they must be taken as knowing best their own educa-
tional deficiencies, but as to Authors, let all set themselves to procure
an amendment of the Copyright Law, and let the Dramatists agitate-
for a Dramatic Authors’ Society legally established as it is in France,
and they will no longer be the slaves of foot-lamps, compelled tO'
serve Abanazak the Manager, or Aladdin the mushroom Proprietor,
but be independent spirits and busy bees gathering money all the
day from every little shining treasury whose yield used formerly
only to benefit the Manager. To that band of Brothers we say.
Uprouse ye, then, my merry, merry men, and bestir yourselves!
“ Who will he free,” &c. But strike—and quickly.

From a German Party.

“ The May Laws,” which should always have been known as
“ The Mayn’t Laws,” will probably be rescinded, and the War-to-
the-Knife-and-FALCK between Conscience and Kulturkampf in
Germany be decided in favour of the former.

The Daily News had a paragraph headed “ A Miracle Play in
Worcestershire.” Londoners need not go so far for a Miracle Play,
a sample of which, written by that Unconscious Celebrationalist,
Mr. Moneyspinero, may be seen every night till further notice at the
St. James’s. The only thing about the Miracle Play at the St. James’s'
connected with Worcestershire is its “ source,” which Mr. Money-
spinero refuses to acknowledge.

HAPPY THOUGHT.

No more colour-blind people as Engine-drivers who can’t distin-
guish red from green, and who invariably make_ white into black
before the end of a journey. No: let our Artists turn Engine-
drivers, and. to begin with, the very man for the place would be,.
evidently, Whistler.

Mrs. Ramsbotham is studying the history of Literature, and goes
on with her teaching in the Sunday School. She gets a little mixed
now and then. “ My dears,” she said, the other day, “ don’t forget
what I told you about Esau. You recollect he was a Dairyman who
wTote-fables, and sold the copyright for an MS. on potash.” The-
children couldn’t follow her, and the Yicar put it all right.