DOI Heft:
March 11, 1882
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17752#0127
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
120
hereby promise to pay fifty pounds to my kind
protector, the Rev. G. 0. Bye. Bless you.
Good Bye! Signed,
Y0UW& Hakb.x.”
“ The lad has a generous nature,” said the
Vicar to himself, “ and in at'ter years this
may he an interesting reminiscence.” So
say'ing, he placed the document carefully in
his pocket-book, and rang the bell.
Only one seryant had seen Master Hakry,
late on the previous night, making faces at
himself in the looking-glass.
“ Why did you not stop him F ” asked
Parson Bye, somewhat wrathfully. “ Did
you not see he was taking himself off ? ”
But ’twas too late : he had gone.
Then Parson Bye went to his bureau. It
■was unlocked.
In another second he realised the true
value of the writing in his possession, and
the good old man in his heart of hearts
devoutly wished that Hakry might obtain
that title and those estates of which he had
gone in search, and might never forget all he
owed his sorrowing benefactor.
CHAP. II.
A FEAKFTJL ENCOUNTER.
Harry was now his own master, so he at
■once proceeded to get on good terms with
himself, ordering himself about, and obeying
with an alacrity that bespoke the most perfect
■discipline; at the same time conversing with
himself in the most confidential manner, yet
in such a way, that familiarity was ever
tempered by respect.
“My dear Harry,” he said to himself,
“ your one object in life must be to ftnd your
parents. For that purpose you must go all |
over the world if necessary. Never forget
the fifty pounds you borrowed from excellent
Parson Bye, and never, never, think of
returning to that part of England you have
just quitted, until you can do so with feelings
of generous pride andpleasure.”
“Hallo, Harry ! ” shouted a youthful
voice, addressing him by name.
Harry at once recognised his playmate,
Jack Poodin, who, two years since, had
run away from home to join a travelling
circus.
“ I ’ll go with you,” cried Jack, heartily,
after hearing Harry’s plan for the future.
“ I know all about Indians, and Pirates, and
here ’s a cutlass I ’ve been doing the combats
with. *I«canbring the highly trained steed,
we must get on.”
As Harry grasped his friend’s hand he
started, for on the balcony above he ’had
caught sight of the loveliest pair of eyes he
had *ever beheld.
Jack saw the direction of his glance, and
said, “ Don’t vou knowher ? ”
“No.”
“ That ’s the Spanish Dancer. Her name ’s
Cachuca.”
At that instant, Cachttca, a beautiful dark-
eyed maiden from the sunny South, whose
smile displayed a front row of dazzling
pearls of which the Great Mollusk himself
might well have been proud, glided from
her seat, and approached Harry\ as Jack,
after whispering in his ear that he would.
return in two minutes with the steed, dis-
creetly retired.
Harry was fascinated, and stood rooted to
the spot.
All at once arose a shriek of agony.
Merchants, clerks, traders of all sorts, were
[March 11, 1882,
hurrying pele mele terrorstricken out of the
Exchange, which was the centre of commerce
in this thriving seaport town.
“The Bull ! TheBull!”
Bursting his bonds, scattering jobbers and
speculators of all sorts left and right, on
came the monster perspiring at every paw,
tossing its own head in sheer cruel wanton-
ness for practice sake, until it could reach
something else to toss.
For one second it paused, as if in search of
an objeet on which to wreak its terrible
vengeanee, and now, for the firsttime, caught
sight of Cachuca.
Cachuca, motionless with fear, could only
shriek out in despairing aceents, “ Save me !
Save me!”
The Bull had already made a hundred run,
he now made one rush.
Have you ever seen a bull rush in the
middle of a street, with a helpless girl right
in front of it ?
It is an awful sight.
Harry, who had never as yet been daunted
by the largest bull’s eye, quailed for an in-
stant only.
But in that instant the savage beast
heralded his approach with a tremendous
flourish of his two horns, previous to giving
the right pitch to the unhappy Cachuca,
and would have got her up in the air, where
she might have been joined by Harry in
a second, but for the latter’s presence of
mind.
Seizing the cutlass which Jack had left
behind him, Harry ran forward to confront
the beast, as Cachuca, throwing up her arms
in despair, fell within an inch of the in-
furiated animal’s horns.
(To be continued.)
A PARTY AT THE PLAY.
Sir,—When you requested me to assist at the first night of The
Manager at the Court Theatre, I acceded gladly to your demand.
"When you asked me, on our next meeting, what I thought of the
piece, I, with considerable diplomatic skill, referred you to the
daily papers. You, with considerable alacrity, referred me to the
•door. When again you asked me to visit the Court Theatre, I said
I would, softly murmuring the while, “ What have I done to deserve
this ? ” Sir, I am glad of that second visit. The Manager goes
Avith roars of laughter from first to last. It is capitally played.
Mr. Anson represents a first-rate Music-hall frequenter, who knows
all the songs by heart. His hat, gloves, and get-up generally are
very comic. Miss Lottie Yknne is piquante—always a safe thing to
say of this clever little actress—and ayoung friend who gauges every-
•thing by Mr. Hollingshead’s entertainment, rapturously declared
that the Dado Song is worthy of a shrine in a Gaiety burlesque.
This from him is high praise, and should make both Miss Yenne
■and the Composer of the song happy for life. Mr. D. G. Boucicault
wants alittlerepose, butl hope he won’t takeit justyet, as evidently
Lhe couldn’t be spared. Good isMrs. Leigh, admirable is Mr. Kemble,
never seen to greater advantagre than now; Miss Linda Dietz plays
the piano very nicely, and if Miss Measor would just play her part
a little bit quicker, her acting would be equal to her make-up, which
is wonderful.. But the marvellous improvement in the piece, even
greater than the ruthless elimination of the former tedious busimess, is
the change in the acting of Mr. Clayton. When Mr. Clayton first
appeared, disguised as Sir William Harcourt, he imparted into the
part of Chiff, with the disguise, the elephantine playfulness which
renders the Hojie Secretarx’s replies to questions in the House such
pleasant reading. jN'ow the part is actually well played, and is
The Manager “ awaking ” Miss Dietz, and going in “ All for Her.”
laughter-provoking. And the more credit is due to Mr. Clayton, for
one can see in his everylook, his every gesture, his yearning to button
a very tight frockcoat over his spacious figure, and with his right
hand firmly clasped over his eyes, to wave his left hand in the air,
and in broken accents spurn for ever a wicked wife, or cast off an
erring daughter, in a word, to cause his audience to yawn instead
of laugh. I, for one, don’t pay ten shillings to yawn; several of my
dearest friends can afford me that sensation for nothing.
I am told Mg Little Girl is worth seeing.* I did not see it._ 1
wantedto, but my young friend, pointed out that if we saw My Little
Girl, our dinner would. be robbed of its chief necessities coffee,
cigarette, and ffie champagne. The latter he declared were certam
to assist digestion, My Little Girl might or might not. We made a
certainty of it. And from 8‘45 to eleven we laughed consumedly.
* It is well worth seeing; but our Candid young Critie gives his friend’s
reason for missing Mr. D. Gr. Boucicavlt s Little Ccirl, about which we
sh'i 11 have. something to say “ in our next.”—En.
120
hereby promise to pay fifty pounds to my kind
protector, the Rev. G. 0. Bye. Bless you.
Good Bye! Signed,
Y0UW& Hakb.x.”
“ The lad has a generous nature,” said the
Vicar to himself, “ and in at'ter years this
may he an interesting reminiscence.” So
say'ing, he placed the document carefully in
his pocket-book, and rang the bell.
Only one seryant had seen Master Hakry,
late on the previous night, making faces at
himself in the looking-glass.
“ Why did you not stop him F ” asked
Parson Bye, somewhat wrathfully. “ Did
you not see he was taking himself off ? ”
But ’twas too late : he had gone.
Then Parson Bye went to his bureau. It
■was unlocked.
In another second he realised the true
value of the writing in his possession, and
the good old man in his heart of hearts
devoutly wished that Hakry might obtain
that title and those estates of which he had
gone in search, and might never forget all he
owed his sorrowing benefactor.
CHAP. II.
A FEAKFTJL ENCOUNTER.
Harry was now his own master, so he at
■once proceeded to get on good terms with
himself, ordering himself about, and obeying
with an alacrity that bespoke the most perfect
■discipline; at the same time conversing with
himself in the most confidential manner, yet
in such a way, that familiarity was ever
tempered by respect.
“My dear Harry,” he said to himself,
“ your one object in life must be to ftnd your
parents. For that purpose you must go all |
over the world if necessary. Never forget
the fifty pounds you borrowed from excellent
Parson Bye, and never, never, think of
returning to that part of England you have
just quitted, until you can do so with feelings
of generous pride andpleasure.”
“Hallo, Harry ! ” shouted a youthful
voice, addressing him by name.
Harry at once recognised his playmate,
Jack Poodin, who, two years since, had
run away from home to join a travelling
circus.
“ I ’ll go with you,” cried Jack, heartily,
after hearing Harry’s plan for the future.
“ I know all about Indians, and Pirates, and
here ’s a cutlass I ’ve been doing the combats
with. *I«canbring the highly trained steed,
we must get on.”
As Harry grasped his friend’s hand he
started, for on the balcony above he ’had
caught sight of the loveliest pair of eyes he
had *ever beheld.
Jack saw the direction of his glance, and
said, “ Don’t vou knowher ? ”
“No.”
“ That ’s the Spanish Dancer. Her name ’s
Cachuca.”
At that instant, Cachttca, a beautiful dark-
eyed maiden from the sunny South, whose
smile displayed a front row of dazzling
pearls of which the Great Mollusk himself
might well have been proud, glided from
her seat, and approached Harry\ as Jack,
after whispering in his ear that he would.
return in two minutes with the steed, dis-
creetly retired.
Harry was fascinated, and stood rooted to
the spot.
All at once arose a shriek of agony.
Merchants, clerks, traders of all sorts, were
[March 11, 1882,
hurrying pele mele terrorstricken out of the
Exchange, which was the centre of commerce
in this thriving seaport town.
“The Bull ! TheBull!”
Bursting his bonds, scattering jobbers and
speculators of all sorts left and right, on
came the monster perspiring at every paw,
tossing its own head in sheer cruel wanton-
ness for practice sake, until it could reach
something else to toss.
For one second it paused, as if in search of
an objeet on which to wreak its terrible
vengeanee, and now, for the firsttime, caught
sight of Cachuca.
Cachuca, motionless with fear, could only
shriek out in despairing aceents, “ Save me !
Save me!”
The Bull had already made a hundred run,
he now made one rush.
Have you ever seen a bull rush in the
middle of a street, with a helpless girl right
in front of it ?
It is an awful sight.
Harry, who had never as yet been daunted
by the largest bull’s eye, quailed for an in-
stant only.
But in that instant the savage beast
heralded his approach with a tremendous
flourish of his two horns, previous to giving
the right pitch to the unhappy Cachuca,
and would have got her up in the air, where
she might have been joined by Harry in
a second, but for the latter’s presence of
mind.
Seizing the cutlass which Jack had left
behind him, Harry ran forward to confront
the beast, as Cachuca, throwing up her arms
in despair, fell within an inch of the in-
furiated animal’s horns.
(To be continued.)
A PARTY AT THE PLAY.
Sir,—When you requested me to assist at the first night of The
Manager at the Court Theatre, I acceded gladly to your demand.
"When you asked me, on our next meeting, what I thought of the
piece, I, with considerable diplomatic skill, referred you to the
daily papers. You, with considerable alacrity, referred me to the
•door. When again you asked me to visit the Court Theatre, I said
I would, softly murmuring the while, “ What have I done to deserve
this ? ” Sir, I am glad of that second visit. The Manager goes
Avith roars of laughter from first to last. It is capitally played.
Mr. Anson represents a first-rate Music-hall frequenter, who knows
all the songs by heart. His hat, gloves, and get-up generally are
very comic. Miss Lottie Yknne is piquante—always a safe thing to
say of this clever little actress—and ayoung friend who gauges every-
•thing by Mr. Hollingshead’s entertainment, rapturously declared
that the Dado Song is worthy of a shrine in a Gaiety burlesque.
This from him is high praise, and should make both Miss Yenne
■and the Composer of the song happy for life. Mr. D. G. Boucicault
wants alittlerepose, butl hope he won’t takeit justyet, as evidently
Lhe couldn’t be spared. Good isMrs. Leigh, admirable is Mr. Kemble,
never seen to greater advantagre than now; Miss Linda Dietz plays
the piano very nicely, and if Miss Measor would just play her part
a little bit quicker, her acting would be equal to her make-up, which
is wonderful.. But the marvellous improvement in the piece, even
greater than the ruthless elimination of the former tedious busimess, is
the change in the acting of Mr. Clayton. When Mr. Clayton first
appeared, disguised as Sir William Harcourt, he imparted into the
part of Chiff, with the disguise, the elephantine playfulness which
renders the Hojie Secretarx’s replies to questions in the House such
pleasant reading. jN'ow the part is actually well played, and is
The Manager “ awaking ” Miss Dietz, and going in “ All for Her.”
laughter-provoking. And the more credit is due to Mr. Clayton, for
one can see in his everylook, his every gesture, his yearning to button
a very tight frockcoat over his spacious figure, and with his right
hand firmly clasped over his eyes, to wave his left hand in the air,
and in broken accents spurn for ever a wicked wife, or cast off an
erring daughter, in a word, to cause his audience to yawn instead
of laugh. I, for one, don’t pay ten shillings to yawn; several of my
dearest friends can afford me that sensation for nothing.
I am told Mg Little Girl is worth seeing.* I did not see it._ 1
wantedto, but my young friend, pointed out that if we saw My Little
Girl, our dinner would. be robbed of its chief necessities coffee,
cigarette, and ffie champagne. The latter he declared were certam
to assist digestion, My Little Girl might or might not. We made a
certainty of it. And from 8‘45 to eleven we laughed consumedly.
* It is well worth seeing; but our Candid young Critie gives his friend’s
reason for missing Mr. D. Gr. Boucicavlt s Little Ccirl, about which we
sh'i 11 have. something to say “ in our next.”—En.