Punch (85.1883)

December 8, 1883.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

265

CATTLE-SHOW WEEK.

By Dumb-Crambo Junior.

Steers.

Best Butter.

Cross Bred.

A CRITICAL POSITION.

Last week Claudian was to have been produced at the Princess’s, and the Critics
had, we believe, been invited to witness a dress-rehearsal, but in consequence of what
the Times' Theatrical Keporter would call the “ unpreparedness” of the Earthquake,
with which Mr. Barrett was to have “ brought down the house,” the production was
postponed.

To invite the Critics to a dress-rehearsal is in the interests of Dramatic Art a great
mistake, though probably not for the Manager and Author, who can avail themselves
of such an exceptional opportunity by acting as Judges, and explaining to the Jury of
Critics why such and such an effect isn’t as right as it might be, and of pointing out
the vast amount of trouble, outlay, time and talent which may have been expended
on the new piece, whatever it is.

On such an occasion the Manager and Author could both diolomatically ask advice,
express themselves most grateful for any hints that their Earned friends in front-
might give, knowing very well that nothing their learned friends could say would
induce them to alter at the last moment any of the carefully planned details, but
perfectly aware that the best and shortest way of winning a Critic’s good opinion is
to humbly listen to the suggestions that may fall from his lips, as though they were
invaluable instructions from some Mighty Master.

We have before us a pamphlet entitled Claudian, being a few notes on the archi-
tecture and costume of the new piece, in the shape of a letter written by Mr. E. W.
Godwin, F.S.A., to “ My dear Barrett,” in which the well-informed writer'instructs
the apparently ignorant Manager, as to the interesting details of the period, a.d.
360-460, which, he says, is “ almost a blank in the modern history of Art”—and then
Mr. Godwin, in a series of illustrations, (does he always write such letters with so
many pictures ?) proceeds to draw this blank.

Mr. Godwin, F.S.A., finishes up his epistle with “Believe me, my dear Barrett,

yours very faithfully-” and, of course, our dear Barrett does believe him. In

fact, the short answer would have been, “ Thanks, my dear Godwin ; I believe you,
my boy, yours trustfully, W. Barrett.”

If, instead of this letter, or if, with this letter as preface, we had been presented
with a book of the play about to be acted, — it could not be sold, as the American
acting-right would be thereby destroyed, my dear Barrett (a.d. 1883-1884),—we
should have been better pleased, holding, as we emphatically do, that the book of any
new play ought to be in every Critic’s hands at least a week before production, so
that he may know what he is going to see, and, as with a Shakspearian, or any other
stock-piece, have a standard by which he can measure the performance.

As it is, when a Critic goes to a 'premiere,—a night which is, as a rule, all clique
and claque,—he has, as a matter of course, to pronounce upon the dish set before
him. It may not be to his taste, and then he has to ask himself, “ Why is this ? Is
the acting bad ? Have I really seen the piece as the Author intended it to be played ? ”

And, again, instead of expressing any sympathy with a Manager and Actors who
have “uncongenial parts,” or who have parts “ unworthy of their talents,” and so
forth, why does not the Critic ask, plainly and straightforwardly, “What on earth
induced a Manager of Mr. So-and-So’s experience, to choose such a piece as this (what-
ever it is)?” The Critic invariably writes as if the Tyrant Author had compelled
the suffering Manager to produce his piece, and even to play in it himself.

Censure the play, by all means, when you have ascertained what the play is,
but censure also the Manager for xilacing it, if evidently bad, before the public. If
the Manager was doubtful, and the Author doubtful and inclined to risk it, then if the
Author had provided the Critics with the book of the piece, the play would be judged
on its own merits, if any, and a fair criticism could then be made on the acting,
decorations, and so forth. If it occurs to the Jury that Manager and Author must
have “ a tile off ” to have produced between them such a piece, then there are plenty
of hands ready and willing enough to supply the defect with good powerful “ slating.”

Musical Critics take care to know the score pretty
well by heart before hearing a new Opera, and
then they follow it with a book in front of them.
Why should not the Dramatic Critics do likewise,
and why not refuse to witness any piece until it
should have been played three or four times ?

SOMETHING LIKE A SCHOOL !

(An Extract from a Pupil’s Diary.)

6 a.m.—Got out of bed, and made a rush for
Old Knight’s door. Old Knight is the master
of our form. Shouted at him through the key-
hole, and arranged a booby-trap with the coal-
scuttle and a large can of water. But he sold us
by letting himself down into the garden from the
window, by tying his blanket, sheets, and coun-
ter pane together. However, fortunately caught
sight of him when he was dangling in the air, and
pelted him with tooth-brushes.

8 a.m.—Breakfast. Informed Old Knight that
there was a balloon, and asked him to look at it.
When he turned his head, we deluged him with
coffee and toast-crusts. Sjent rest of recreation
hour in making slides out of the butter-dish.

10 a.m. to 12 Noon.—At Study. Most of us
reading novels, the remainder playing at dumb-
crambo. Fried sausages, as usual, while Old
Knight was working the pons asinorum for us on
the black-board. When we had finished our lun-
cheons, some of us escaped by the window, .and
the remainder by the chimney.

2. p.m.—Dinner. The usual game of pelting

Old Knight with bits of potatoes, and filling his
pockets with rice-pudding. Poured the beer into
the Head-Master’s coal-scuttle. This last feat
got us into a row. We are sentenced to stay at
school during the Christmas holidays—Old Knight
is to remain with us to keep us ou't of mischief.

4 p.m. to 6'30 p.m.—More lessons, and this time
toffee-making. Head-Master came in, and find-
ing Billy Potter standing on his head on Old
Knight’s desk, kept us all in during tea-time.
After this we all “communicated our ideas” to
Billy Potter, and coloured his eyes beauti-
fully. Old Knight rather disgusted at having
to mind us instead of getting his tea.

9T5 p.m.—In our dormitory at last. Saw that
the place was all right for the night. Screwed up
all the doors belonging to the masters’ rooms, piled
up all the class-books on the kitchen fire, and
emptied the contents of the beer barrel into poor
Old Knight’s wardrobe. Then, having driven the
cow into the best drawdng-room, and the sow and
her little piggies into the parent’s reception par-
lour, got into bed. As I fell off to sleep, reflected
that on the whole, I had found out the way to
enjoy a happy day, and wondered if Old Knight
had been as fortunate.

A propos of Christmas Amusements, should
anyone happen to mention such matters at this
time of year, you may say that the game of cards
called “ Merry Matches,” issued by Messrs.
Wyman, is a good all-rounder, and very much in
Young Folks’ ways. The Merry Matches are in
their own box, which, by the way, may be used
as an excellent substitute for a cigarette case. So
deal out the merry harmless cards, pour out the
Champagne, arrose un peu pour les petits, and let
the toast be “ Wine and Wyman ! ”

A Scrap of Paper, it is said, is to be revived
at the St. James’s soon after Christmas. As long
as a theatre is doing genuinely good business, the
Management would object even to a Scrap of
“ Paper ” in the house. The reason for the non-
adoption of the electric light at the St. James’s is
because they have hitherto found Kendal-light
sufficient. If this theatre has been, as we hear,
recently treated to a little extra ventilation, it
was in consequence of the demand from the public
for “ More Hare ! ”

Vol. 85

9—?