Punch: Punch (82.1882)

274

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIYARI. LJone io, i8«a.

ECHOES FROM ASCOT.

AYhy am I here ? Why,
my doctor ordered me quiet
and change of air. So, at’ter
we have finidied our fourth
peg, we will just toddle round
totbe Ring, and seewhat they
are doing about the Cup.

I can assure you I only come
ior the dear girls’ sake. They
would have been so disap-
pointed if I had refused. Yes,
thank you, I will take a little
Mayonnaise of salmon, and
mind you put Apollinaris in
the champagne!

Mamma will be dreadfully
angry if you don’t go away.
She ’s looking at us! Take
| out your note-book—quick !
Yes, Mr. Pennywise, my size
is small sixes !

Allow me to introduce:
“Greneral” Booth—Cardinal
Manning.

My dear Bishops, I think all
of you know Mr. Irving ?

I consider Ascot the pleas-
antest meeting of the year.
Yes, I shall be at Tattersall’s
[ on Monday. Shall take it on
my way to my banker’s.
j Always think Ascot beastly !

| ’Spose I shali be at Tattersaii’s
on Monday. Shall have to
look at my banking account
first, though!

“ Tempora mutanturas
the School-Boarded Railway
Porter observed, when a Tra-
veller had just missed his
train in consequence of having
trusted to last month’s Guide.

PUNCH’S FANCY PORTRAITS.—No. 87.

SIR JOHhT BENNET LAWES, BART.

An Irish Solution of the
Egyptian Diffichlty.—
“ Ara-bi Aisy ! ”

The Agrictjltltral Lawes, the nkw Wheel-Barrow-net.
Motto, “ Latjs et Honor.”

STUDH AND TEAM.

The fashion in evening
dress of wearing a solitaire in
the shirt-front will now be
given up by all Cricketers
out of compliment to the
three Studds. That the Studd
Brothers have made a pro-
found study of the noble art
of Cricket may be gathered
from the fact of their having
made 297 runs between them
in the Cambridge victory over
the Australian team. Land-
lord, tiil the fiowing bowl!
Here ’s their health ! And
auother to battering-Ram-
say, and another to Lord
Gamp — no, beg pardon, we
mean Lord Harkis “onlybut
for his manly letters signed
and sealed,” said a certain
sceptical Prig, “ I didn’t be-
lieve there wasn’t no such
person.” Whv, of course there
is. Isn’t he evidently a mem-
ber of the Harris-tocracy ?
How ’s that, Umpire ? Not
out. Over!

Mr. J. L. Toole, writing to
Mr. W. E. Gladstone, in-
forms himthat, as a politician,

I he entirely approves of send-
j ing “ Sealed Orders” to the
Fleet. He has himself adopted
the idea, and is now sending
“ Sealed Orders ” for his
theatre to all the naval sta-
tions. Begs to enclose a
specimen to the Premier of’
“ Signed and Sealed Orders ”
for an y night, but “ N. B. not
admitted after seven, and
evening dress indispensable.
Excuse my glove. Love to
Herbert. Yours ever,

J. L. T.”

| after stage-eifect. He even descended from his loftv pinnacle and
j gallantly bombarded Managers to no purpose, as raany a deserted
j pigeon-hole and crammed waste-paper basket could telL, were they
gifted with speech, with comedies, farces, and burlesques. He f're-
quented the society of Actors, and got himself elected to a so-called
TheatricaL CLub, where he sat up all night, casuisticalLy and causti-
cally pointing out ihe obvious demerits of the pieces then running.
Here it was t.hat he made the aeqnaintance of one, Floats, the
Manager of a PLayhouse, and of Grubley, the Editor of the Griffin

Now it so happened that Flo\TS, having hid six successive
failures written hy six eminent Dramatists, and having by him a
French play which he wanted cheapLy and speedtLy rendered into
English, under the infiaence of despair and brandy-and-water,
intrusted t.he adaptation to Chiffonier. The young man felt that
the time had come, and set to work at once with the ardour of
Hannibal, and the certainty of a Napoleon. Not unsuccessfully, he
fLattered himself, when he had eliminated all the coarse Gallic
humour, and when he had Anglioised all the characters by convertiug
them into Lords and Ladies, Baronets, Squires, aud other ingredients
of what is kno wn as Society. And of course he took care to make use of
much of the beautiful poetry which he had composed for Columbus
Naturally suncLry improbable situations aud impossible complications
remained, but it is unlikely that a strong suspicion of a breach of
the Seventh Commandment should have been the reason why Manager
Floats was provided with a Seventh failure. But so it was, tbe
spectators stoned the play to death, and the critics danced with glee
upon the corpse.

Chiffonier felt that the sorrows of Job and Werther were but.
fiea-bites compared with his. For six weelss he mourned with a face
as long as a double-bass, and led tbe sad life of a hermit of’ old.
craving as it were for death. At last, finding t.hat his dissoiution
did not eome, he ventured back to the Club, and marvelled greatly
to find that no one even remembered thetitle of his abortive dramatie
effort. So he plueked up his spirits, called for poached eggs and

stout, and Let his tongue run loose with the satiric freedom of former
days. At last he and Grubley, the Editor, were left at cock-crow
with no other companions than empty glasses, cigar-ends, and two
yawning waiters.

“ You seem to talk a great deal about what you don’t understand,”
said the Editor. “ It strikes me that you ’re just the man I want.
My dramatic critic is leaving me; would you care to have a try for
his shop ? ”

Chiffonier’s feet swelled in his boots, and a button flew off his
waLtcoat, ac the offer. He even forgave, in his gladness, the un-
compiimentary opening of Grubley’s address.

“ I will do my best,” he cried.

“ Good ! ” said the other. “ There ’s an Original Comedy coming
out to-morrow at the Peristyle. Let me see what you can do
with it.”

Priggs did this with it:—

“ Since the days of Mrs. Aphra Behn and George Colman the
Younger, the specific qualities necessary for the realisation of Art in
ir.s dramatic form have scarcely ever been thoroughly developed in
r.hat degree which is at once agreeableto the not too captious tat-te of
the ordinary playgoer, and to the more ecleetic discrimination of the
Critic. Art, to be Art, must be Art and not Artitice. The hedge-
sparrow, in the hands of an experienced cordon bleu, may make a
salrni calculated to deceive the vulgar, but it can no more obtain
with the connoisseur as the ortolan or beccafico, than ean a Wardour
St.reet ‘ pot-boiler ’ pabs muster for a masterpiece by Peter Paul
Rubens or Wclliam: Mallord Turner. The new comedy, IVater-
nymphs, though enthusiastically received by, to say the least of it,
a very friendly audience, is mediocre beyond mediocrity. Scarcely
have we done laughing at a situat.ion or a joke, when we remember
that the same joke and the same situation might very possibly have
done duty scores of times before. Indeed, to call Water-nymphs an
‘ original ’ work is about its only original attribute. Originality, to
be original, must strike us with the freshness of a prismatic