Punch (85.1883)

278

PUNCH, OP THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[December 15, 1883.

PUTTING IT'PLEASANTLY.

Sir rompey’s Architect [producing a Plan). “There, Sip. Pompey ! I flatter
MYSELF I HAVE MADE THAT DRAWING PLAIN TO EVEN THE MEANEST CAPACITY ! ”

THE SPEAKER.

[A Handbook to Ready-made Oratary.)

Part VIII.—How to Propose the Health op an Important Public Official.

“ Times change, and we with, them,” and its Latin equivalent are particularly
stale platitudes. Staleness, however, does not detract from their truth. All
things alter, and are altered—even lists of toasts. Twenty or thirty years ago,
Literature, Science, and the Drama were scarcely recognised. Nowadays an
A ctor is invariably received with the utmost cordiality when he rises to return
thanks for the “great heartiness” which has accompanied the drinking of his
health. But we are not likely to stop here. Of late there has been displayed,
in the most influential quarters, a great disposition to “take up” another
character, whose Stage, fitted with a trap-door used more frequently in the
morning than in the evening, is yet thoroughly associated with the most sensa-
tional performances. No doubt his turn will soon arrive for this special form
of distinction. So, under these circumstances, it may be as well to prepare the
Public for the occurrence.

To carry out the intention of making this Handbook as complete as possible,
the report of the first occasion on which the toast will be proposed is now pro-
phetically given. As the subject is decidedly dramatic, it is dealt with in a
dramatic form :—•

Scene—A Banqueting-Hall filled with miscellaneous Guests. The Chairman
has proposed “ the loyal toasts,” and is about to suggest one of another cha-
racter, when a simpering middle-aged Spinster claims permission to address
a few words to the assembled throng. Tier request is granted, and she rises
jauntily, announcing herself as—

Miss Trixy Gruesome. You must really forgive me for claiming your atten-
tion for a little while—I promise that it shall be only for a little while. (“ Hear,
hear: ”) I am rather surprised at the interruption. Remember that I am a
Lady ; and, as a Lady, I claim all the privileges of my sex. [Loud cheering.)
Having disposed of a very unseemly outrage—[cheers)—I think we can get on

comfortably together. Like other Ladies, I am ex-
tremely nervous and timid. What else can you expect
of a female who possesses neither the strength nor the
boldness of a man? (Cheers.) I, and those like me,
would be shocked at a prize-fight — it would be so
brutal. (“ Hear, hear l") And if we were asked to be
present at a Spanish “ distraction,” in which a bull had
to be killed, and blinded horses to be gored to death, we
should simply faint. [Cheers.) Oh, yes, I pride myself
upon the attributes of my sex—mercy, kindness, refine-
ment. [Loud applause.) But poor woman must have her
pleasures, and one of the most agreeable to her is that
which is associated with a Court of Justice. (“ Hear,
hear ! ”) I consider a good trial the most charming thing
in the world—I do, indeed. When a good trial takes
place at the Central Criminal Court, nothing is more
delightful than to secure a nice comfortable seat on the
Bench, where you can hear and see everybody. I am sure
the Judges and the Aldermen are the most charming of
people ; and are never so pleased as when I, or one like
me, is perched up beside them.

A Judge [interrupting). Pardon me, Madam ; but it is
my opinion, and the opinion of many of my colleagues,
that a woman listening to the painful details of a heart-
rending case of felony, is a scandal to the civilisation of
the nineteenth century.

Miss Trixy Gruesome [giggling). Oh, you are too hard
upon us ! [Laughter.) I only wish you were as hard
upon the prisoners brought before you! [Renewed
laughter.) Why, you scarcely ever put on your little
cap, although it’s most becoming ! (Continued laughter.)
But to be serious. I repeat that there is nothing more
delightful than to assist at a really good trial, especially
if you are personally comfortable. Think of the entrance
of the prisoner. You put up your opera-glasses, and scan
his face. Is he pale ? If so, how interesting ! Does he
tremble ? If he does—how perfectly sweet! [Applause.)
Then the evidence. Perhaps a child is examined, and
cries, not liking, of course, to denounce its own father!
What could be more charming than this ! Then the
Counsel spar at one another, and it’s such fun ! [Cheers.)
Or they are cross-examined, and isn’t it a joke ? [Re-
newed applause.) And then perhaps comes lunch.
[Laughter.) Yes, it is a pleasure when you have just a
nice little pile of freshly-cut sandwiches, and, say, half-a-
pint of sherry. [Cheers.) Still, I do think that the
Sheriffs might supply us with something better. (“ With
a pint! ”) They are nasty disagreeable old things there !
(Roars of laughter.)

A Sheriff [smiling). I beg pardon for interrupting,
but it is no part of our duty to provide a meal for our
fair friends.

Miss Trixy Gruesome [playfully). Oh, you naughty
man! I do not believe you a bit. [Laughter.) Then

after lunch- [A Voice: “And the sherryP) Yes—•

and the sherry—[roars of laughter)—after lunch and the
sherry, what can be more impressive than the eloquence of
the Counsel ? Their voices are so grave, and they often
say such beautiful things ! And while you listen to
them you can watch the face of the accused through an
opera-glass while it changes its expression. (“ Hear,
hear.'”) Then when the Judge sums up, the excite-
ment reaches its height. Is it to be Guilty or Not Guilty ?
What is to be the fate of the interesting stranger in the
dock ? Then, when the Jury retire to consider their ver-
dict, you have time to look round the Gallery to see if you
can discover the wife of the interesting stranger in the
dock. [A laugh.) You grow more and more excited,
until at last the twelve good men and true return and
deliver their verdict. It is Guilty, and you can guess
the rest! [Prolonged cheering.) Well, for this pleasant
day I thank the Judge and the Bar and the Jury. But
there is another who deserves my heartiest recognition.
He is not present, but his subtle influence pervades the
Court. He hovers about the Prisoner, in the spirit, all
day long. It is the knowledge that he is waiting ready,
aye ready, to do his duty at a moment’s notice that gives
the scene such a flavour of excitement and romance.
[Cheers.) What would the trial be without him?—flat
and stale and unprofitable. [Renewed applause.) Yes,
Ladies and Gentlemen, this excellent official is the com-
mencement and the finish, the Alpha and Omega of all
the proceedings. He stands near the Judge, walks whis-
pering to the Jury, and, as he gets close to the Prisoner’s
side, turns him as pale as the whitest marble. And shall
we forget this silent, this ghostly friend ? This spirit that