DOI Heft:
April 22, 1882
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17752#0199
192
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIYARL [April 22, 1882.
In an instant the Provost had dropped his
arm, and, aghast at the interruption, was
facing the hero of the school, whose pluck
had heen tried in the Eton furnace, for he
had come successfully out of the Lower and
Upper Eemoves, confident that two removes
are as good as a fire.
The Provost, therefore, was likely to have
it hot from the handsome, splashing, dashing.
daring chum, to whom his nine hundred
companions had, by common consent, assigned
the name of “ Eton Bob.”
“ Gro it, Bob ! ” shouted the now rallying
Upper Fifth in chorus, and as they did so
the air was darkened by a heavy shower of
Latin Dictionaries.
It was an exciting scene.
One of the largest struck the Provost at
the hack of his leg below the knee. It can-
noned off sharply, and he followed its course
with the eye of a connoisseur. For he had a
library of his own, but he had never yet seen
a volume of such bulk bound so neatly in
| his own favourite calf.
Thus the diversion was, for the moment,
eomplete. The lovely Perkussian drew a
breath of relief.
Yet the Reverend Roddtk Picexe, B. & S.,
Baker Street Prizeman, and Odd-Fellow
of his year, was not made of stuff to be
trifled with. He had commenced his college
Life as a sizar, and this at first had often
■sent him to the wall. At this time he was
regarded rather as an under sizer. But
greats gave him his chance. A man of much
breadth, he suddenly rose also to such an ex-
: traordinary degree, that he was acknowledged
on all sides as a remarkable over sizer,
was made Banting Lecturer, and from that
moment liis weight in the University was
felt to be immense. Proofs of this were not
long wanting. He no sooner took his place
in his college boat, than it instantly went to
the bottom of the river. They appointed him
to the vacant chair of Modern History.
The legs came off. Everything gave way
before him. He tried for the Newdigate
and took it off its hinges.
Such had been the antecedents of the
Provost: and as he stood there, towering
above the refractory form, seven feet two
in his shoes, and flourishing the good tradi-
tional old Eton Cat in his hand, it became
quite clear that whatever were the precise
merits of the matter in dispute, it was his
intention to settle them at once himself by
coming down heavily.
But Bob saw his opportunity.
With a bound like that of a spring onion,
he darted forward, and, seizing by the collar
a dark, swarthy, sixth-form boy, whose
name of Had.ti Kttff sufficiently betokened
his near relationship to the Shah of Persia,
dexterously thrust him in the way of the
descending lash.
The ruse saved the lovely Perkussian, for,
with adullresoundingthud, the heavy thongs
went quietly home on the baclc of the highly-
connected Asiatic’s Eton jaclcet.
He winced. For a moment they reminded
him of his liappy life on the Sahara. But he
had got more than his deserts, and the Pro-
vost was annoyed. He had wished to cul-
tivate this youth, and now he had managed
to give him the cut direct. He turned with
redoubled energy again towards the terrified
girh
There was not a moment to be lost.
“ I ’m only a light weight,” cried our hero,
facing his reverend antagonist, “but the cry
of a beautiful female in distress is never
heard in vain by Eton Bob.”
And with this manly speech, he seized the
Provost tightly by the band of his cassock,
and whirling him aloft seven feet in the air,
hurled him with an easy effort through the
window of the class-room into the quadrangle
beneath.
CHAP. II.
TUE SECRET OF THE TRONK.
There was a shout of triumph from the
Upper Fifth, and the fair Perkussian was
about to reward Bob for her timely deliverance
with a kiss, when a packet of letters, and a
couple of miniatures in twelve inch frames,
that had fallen from the breast-pocket of the
Provost’s clerical waistcoat, caught her eye.
She eagerly devoured their contents. “ Oh!
heaven ! ” she cried, “ he is my father ! ”
Bob looked gallantly out of window.
“In that case, be of good cheer,” he said,
“ he is not hurt, ma chere! The Under
Provost happened. to be passing at the time.
Your father, who went for the fall with
judgment, is quite in his proper place. He
came safely down upon the top of him. Ah,
ma chere, you ’ll soon be at a premium ! ”
“ But the poor Under Provost! ’’ she replied,
sadly. “ I am afraid he must be below Pa ! ”
Bob would have made an encouraging
reply, but at that moment a coal sack was
thrown over his head, and the fair Perkussian
was borne swiftly from the elass-room by a
masked figure in an Eton jacket.
In less than ten minutes her prostrate form
was being carried through a long subter-
ranean passage, to a dungeon beneath Wind-
sor Castle.
(7b be continued.)
THE “CRI” AND THE LAUGH.
Talk of the ensemble of French companies, there isn’t one of
them that can surpass, or even come up with, the company at the
Criterion, so admirably trained by Mr. Wyndham, who is the life and
soul of sueh pieces as Fourteen JDays, which owes all the fun of its
capital dialogue to Mr. H. J. Byrok, the humour of its situations to
the French originators—two of ’em, of course it generally takes two
or three, sometimes four, to construct a plot—and its suecess to the
acting of the Criterion company individually and collectively. Com-
pare Hot-Bath Fields Prison interior with tne prison interior at the
Adelphi, and then exelaim with Peregrine Porter, ‘ ‘ What trash these
press fellows do write about the hardship of our prison system ! ”
I don’t understand why Mr. Giddens, who is imprisoned with
Mr. Wyndham, has his hair cut short, while the latter’s locks are
left unshorn. But something has to be conceded to a low comedian.
Mr. Stakdixg is excellent as a superior sort of Maudle elevated to
the governorship of a prison : a very original notion this. One of
the best played parts is that of Jones, the Warder and Butler, whose
representative, Mr. Redwood, is so genuinely earnest throughout.
But this is the great secret of their success at the Criterion, they
are all in earnest, and play as if they thoroughly believed in the
genuine probability of the circumstances in which they find them-
selves. Thus it is that they convey to their audience such an
impression of Reality as is rarely effected except by a very superior
performance of, say, for example, the Trial Scene in The Merchant
of Venice.
Miss M. Rorke is invaluahle as the loving wife always confiding,
in every piece, in the fidelity and integrity of Mr. Charles Wynd-
ham, the slightly erratic but thoroughly repentant husband.
Mr. Sothern is another illustration of earnestness : so also is Miss
K. Rorke. If there be the slightest exception, it is to he found in
Mr. Blakeley, and in the unnaturally pert servant, played by Miss
Yining. Yet the idiocy of Mr. Blakeley’s Brummles, is very funny ;
in appearance he is like Mr. I)ich in David Copperfeld, with the
action of a punch-doll, and so, perhaps, after all, he must be accepted
as another of the probabilities in which the Criterion company and
audience devoutly, though temporarily, believe.
It is long since I have enjoyed so hearty a laugh as I did at
Fourteen Days. Judging from what I saw of the first piece, Ruth's
Romance, this also is very weU played by Miss Harrington, Mr.
Lytton Sothern, and Mr. Hamilton Astley who is very amusing,
and to whom Mr. Brohghton, the author of the little one-act drama,
has given some uncommonly good lines. H.B.—This piece in one
act, one scene, and three characters, ought to be a good useful
piece for amateurs.
Talk Between two Bar Lambs.
Billy. I say, ’Arry, ’ow does Gladstone amuse himself during
the Recesses at ’Arden ?
'Arry. Oh! he takes plenty of ’orse exercise: goes out with three or
four on ’em at a time, like the Currier of St. Petersburg at a Circus.
Billy. Oh, gammon! Whotoldyer?
’Arry. Why, ain’t you ’eard ? he goes out every day reg’lar with
his’adrs. ’Aveaglass? \They drink.
LIKELY.
Mr. Barndm having got Jumbo, has refused D’Oyly Carte’s
offer of his AEsthetic Two-Twoness Oscar, but is negotiating for the
Suspects on their release, and will probably come to terms with the
Prince of Monaco, if the latter wiU sell the title wit-h the rest of the
property. Hail, Prince Barnum of Moneygo !
A Nice Plot of Ground !—The Site of the Uspanski Cathedral.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIYARL [April 22, 1882.
In an instant the Provost had dropped his
arm, and, aghast at the interruption, was
facing the hero of the school, whose pluck
had heen tried in the Eton furnace, for he
had come successfully out of the Lower and
Upper Eemoves, confident that two removes
are as good as a fire.
The Provost, therefore, was likely to have
it hot from the handsome, splashing, dashing.
daring chum, to whom his nine hundred
companions had, by common consent, assigned
the name of “ Eton Bob.”
“ Gro it, Bob ! ” shouted the now rallying
Upper Fifth in chorus, and as they did so
the air was darkened by a heavy shower of
Latin Dictionaries.
It was an exciting scene.
One of the largest struck the Provost at
the hack of his leg below the knee. It can-
noned off sharply, and he followed its course
with the eye of a connoisseur. For he had a
library of his own, but he had never yet seen
a volume of such bulk bound so neatly in
| his own favourite calf.
Thus the diversion was, for the moment,
eomplete. The lovely Perkussian drew a
breath of relief.
Yet the Reverend Roddtk Picexe, B. & S.,
Baker Street Prizeman, and Odd-Fellow
of his year, was not made of stuff to be
trifled with. He had commenced his college
Life as a sizar, and this at first had often
■sent him to the wall. At this time he was
regarded rather as an under sizer. But
greats gave him his chance. A man of much
breadth, he suddenly rose also to such an ex-
: traordinary degree, that he was acknowledged
on all sides as a remarkable over sizer,
was made Banting Lecturer, and from that
moment liis weight in the University was
felt to be immense. Proofs of this were not
long wanting. He no sooner took his place
in his college boat, than it instantly went to
the bottom of the river. They appointed him
to the vacant chair of Modern History.
The legs came off. Everything gave way
before him. He tried for the Newdigate
and took it off its hinges.
Such had been the antecedents of the
Provost: and as he stood there, towering
above the refractory form, seven feet two
in his shoes, and flourishing the good tradi-
tional old Eton Cat in his hand, it became
quite clear that whatever were the precise
merits of the matter in dispute, it was his
intention to settle them at once himself by
coming down heavily.
But Bob saw his opportunity.
With a bound like that of a spring onion,
he darted forward, and, seizing by the collar
a dark, swarthy, sixth-form boy, whose
name of Had.ti Kttff sufficiently betokened
his near relationship to the Shah of Persia,
dexterously thrust him in the way of the
descending lash.
The ruse saved the lovely Perkussian, for,
with adullresoundingthud, the heavy thongs
went quietly home on the baclc of the highly-
connected Asiatic’s Eton jaclcet.
He winced. For a moment they reminded
him of his liappy life on the Sahara. But he
had got more than his deserts, and the Pro-
vost was annoyed. He had wished to cul-
tivate this youth, and now he had managed
to give him the cut direct. He turned with
redoubled energy again towards the terrified
girh
There was not a moment to be lost.
“ I ’m only a light weight,” cried our hero,
facing his reverend antagonist, “but the cry
of a beautiful female in distress is never
heard in vain by Eton Bob.”
And with this manly speech, he seized the
Provost tightly by the band of his cassock,
and whirling him aloft seven feet in the air,
hurled him with an easy effort through the
window of the class-room into the quadrangle
beneath.
CHAP. II.
TUE SECRET OF THE TRONK.
There was a shout of triumph from the
Upper Fifth, and the fair Perkussian was
about to reward Bob for her timely deliverance
with a kiss, when a packet of letters, and a
couple of miniatures in twelve inch frames,
that had fallen from the breast-pocket of the
Provost’s clerical waistcoat, caught her eye.
She eagerly devoured their contents. “ Oh!
heaven ! ” she cried, “ he is my father ! ”
Bob looked gallantly out of window.
“In that case, be of good cheer,” he said,
“ he is not hurt, ma chere! The Under
Provost happened. to be passing at the time.
Your father, who went for the fall with
judgment, is quite in his proper place. He
came safely down upon the top of him. Ah,
ma chere, you ’ll soon be at a premium ! ”
“ But the poor Under Provost! ’’ she replied,
sadly. “ I am afraid he must be below Pa ! ”
Bob would have made an encouraging
reply, but at that moment a coal sack was
thrown over his head, and the fair Perkussian
was borne swiftly from the elass-room by a
masked figure in an Eton jacket.
In less than ten minutes her prostrate form
was being carried through a long subter-
ranean passage, to a dungeon beneath Wind-
sor Castle.
(7b be continued.)
THE “CRI” AND THE LAUGH.
Talk of the ensemble of French companies, there isn’t one of
them that can surpass, or even come up with, the company at the
Criterion, so admirably trained by Mr. Wyndham, who is the life and
soul of sueh pieces as Fourteen JDays, which owes all the fun of its
capital dialogue to Mr. H. J. Byrok, the humour of its situations to
the French originators—two of ’em, of course it generally takes two
or three, sometimes four, to construct a plot—and its suecess to the
acting of the Criterion company individually and collectively. Com-
pare Hot-Bath Fields Prison interior with tne prison interior at the
Adelphi, and then exelaim with Peregrine Porter, ‘ ‘ What trash these
press fellows do write about the hardship of our prison system ! ”
I don’t understand why Mr. Giddens, who is imprisoned with
Mr. Wyndham, has his hair cut short, while the latter’s locks are
left unshorn. But something has to be conceded to a low comedian.
Mr. Stakdixg is excellent as a superior sort of Maudle elevated to
the governorship of a prison : a very original notion this. One of
the best played parts is that of Jones, the Warder and Butler, whose
representative, Mr. Redwood, is so genuinely earnest throughout.
But this is the great secret of their success at the Criterion, they
are all in earnest, and play as if they thoroughly believed in the
genuine probability of the circumstances in which they find them-
selves. Thus it is that they convey to their audience such an
impression of Reality as is rarely effected except by a very superior
performance of, say, for example, the Trial Scene in The Merchant
of Venice.
Miss M. Rorke is invaluahle as the loving wife always confiding,
in every piece, in the fidelity and integrity of Mr. Charles Wynd-
ham, the slightly erratic but thoroughly repentant husband.
Mr. Sothern is another illustration of earnestness : so also is Miss
K. Rorke. If there be the slightest exception, it is to he found in
Mr. Blakeley, and in the unnaturally pert servant, played by Miss
Yining. Yet the idiocy of Mr. Blakeley’s Brummles, is very funny ;
in appearance he is like Mr. I)ich in David Copperfeld, with the
action of a punch-doll, and so, perhaps, after all, he must be accepted
as another of the probabilities in which the Criterion company and
audience devoutly, though temporarily, believe.
It is long since I have enjoyed so hearty a laugh as I did at
Fourteen Days. Judging from what I saw of the first piece, Ruth's
Romance, this also is very weU played by Miss Harrington, Mr.
Lytton Sothern, and Mr. Hamilton Astley who is very amusing,
and to whom Mr. Brohghton, the author of the little one-act drama,
has given some uncommonly good lines. H.B.—This piece in one
act, one scene, and three characters, ought to be a good useful
piece for amateurs.
Talk Between two Bar Lambs.
Billy. I say, ’Arry, ’ow does Gladstone amuse himself during
the Recesses at ’Arden ?
'Arry. Oh! he takes plenty of ’orse exercise: goes out with three or
four on ’em at a time, like the Currier of St. Petersburg at a Circus.
Billy. Oh, gammon! Whotoldyer?
’Arry. Why, ain’t you ’eard ? he goes out every day reg’lar with
his’adrs. ’Aveaglass? \They drink.
LIKELY.
Mr. Barndm having got Jumbo, has refused D’Oyly Carte’s
offer of his AEsthetic Two-Twoness Oscar, but is negotiating for the
Suspects on their release, and will probably come to terms with the
Prince of Monaco, if the latter wiU sell the title wit-h the rest of the
property. Hail, Prince Barnum of Moneygo !
A Nice Plot of Ground !—The Site of the Uspanski Cathedral.