Punch (86.1884)

50

PUNCH, OP THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [February 2, 1884.

THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE LEFT UNSAID.

Dearest Friend (admiring the New Portrait). “ How Sweet ! How Charming !
How Pretty ! And yet so Like!!"

THE LATEST CRAZE.

{Letters from a young Gentleman of Fashion who “ Adopted the Stage as a Profession.”)

Mr dear Duchess, 28, Shrimp Street, Sliellford.

It is indeed a world of woe and work for the Jolly Jack Puddings
•created to amuse and entertain others. That dreadful Notice-Board I spoke
■of now informs us that Miss Poster will take her first Annual Benefit on Thurs-
day, Mr. Garrick (who you know is leaving) has aSBenefit on Friday, when three
Dramas are going to he produced, Saturday is again a Grand Special Night, and
Monday is the Benefit of the Gentleman who supplies the soda-water in the front
■of the house. Mr. Excelsior Mac Alpin I see appears in a variety of parts
•each night. But I won't give in. I think by about the end of next week I shall
liave appeared as everything—kings, earls, blind Jews, beggars, drunkards,
iootmen, young and old men in every profession under the sun, and belonging
to every nation. It is also announced that we start shortly for our Grand Tour
in the Southern District.

I asked Mr. Garrick to dinner yesterday, hut, poor thing ! he’d no appetite.
I’m afraid he drinks nasty mixtures, like rum-and-butter, or gin-and-bitters,
or things I thought only Cabmen took after being exposed to the wet. Mr.
Garrick calls it “ having a wet,” so perhaps he gets wet first, in order to enjoy
these drinks the more. But he gets so dreadfully low-spirited after it. He is
our Low Comedian. But then that’s a different sort of “ low.” I wanted to cheer
him up, and I ’d ordered what I thought he’d like, but he stuck almost entirely
to brandy and pickles, which must be bad for anyone. Perhaps this is the reason
for his not having succeeded in his profession as he deserves to have done, for,
by his conversation, he evidently is a thorough dramatic artist.

I hope to profit by some of the “tips” he gave me. For example? he told
me that country audiences forgive anything but nervous flounderings; they
applaud the sentiment, and not the Actor; and thus, rather than “stick”
(which is a sure signal for derisive shouts), it is better to insert such a speech as
the following :—

I belong to that noble nation whose proudest boast it is that e’en her meanest
subjects have liberty and protection ’neath her banner.”

It does not the least matter what part one is trying to
interpret. The sentiment is sure to be applauded; and
in the meanwhile one has time to remember what one
ought to have said, or to “ Exit ”—it’s a beautiful exit!

Miss Poster has let our Theatre to some Amateurs next
Monday, and we are all to go over to Seaborough to act.
Miss Poster has asked me to whip up all my friends at
Seaborough, but I have none. Lady Aweberrt has gone.
I went over there yesterday, to see if I could ferret out
somebody I knew. But no. I’m afraid we shall have a
very bad house. Nobody cares to go to the Play at Sea-
borough. By the bye, Miss March has a private lunatic
asylum there for Ladies; and Lady Anne Parchment
has been under her care for thirty-four years. She is a
relation of our family, and I think I shall give Miss
March a couple of tickets for herself and Lady Parch-
ment, that is if the latter can come vfithout being very
violent. Yours ever, Hugo de B***.

TTIE PARIAH PEN.

[Being the Bitter Cry of an Outcast Goosequill.)

[The Times says that in England “ Literary Society is some-
thing by itself. It is not one -with general Society, as it is in
Paris.”]

Pity the Pen ! It is—of course—precisely
The great World-fulcrum Archimedes wanted,

Or some who ’ve sung its praise, as they thought, wisely,
Have simply canted.

It moves the World (who doubts it hut a blunderer ?),
Propelled by great Philosophers and Poets,

Or—both in one—that glory of the Thunderer,

Our Jovian Blowitz.

More mighty than the Sword !—at least we ’re told so
By Truth’s two tongues, lyric and leading article.

The vehicle of soul! what else can hold so
The Immortal Particle ?

Palladium of the State, its chief defender _

Ready to cut down wrong and to inter vice.

The geese saved Rome, but now our goose-quills render
The self-same service.

The ties of Party it can loose or make fast,

The footsteps of a danger-fronting host track,

And tell the tale to Bug gins at his breakfast,

Times propt on toast-rack.

Report what Continents have, in might or fun, done ;

Lift prostrate peoples, tyrants cause to tumble ;

And with the “ Bitter Cry of Outcast London”

Scare even Bumble.

Takes notes of Emperor’s talk and chat of kingling,

Tell what Grand Dukes have done or purpose doing.
(Such Mightinesses Pen-men always singling
For entre-nous-ing.)

“ Report ” a Duchess’s post-prandial prattle,

Or the tutoiements of a Princess affable.

(Grand Dames no doubt find Pen’s agreeable rattle
Extremely laughable.)

If there’s a secret, deep, dark, diplomatic,

Pen may be trusted to divine or plumb it,

To explore the Home from servants’ hall to attic,

From base to summit.

If boredom good society b‘e the key of,

Just look at Party “ leaders ” inter aha.

Le Monde ou Von s'ennuie should make Pen free of
Its penetralia !

And yet what says the Times f Ah me, the pity !

As social pet Pen is the choice of Paris,

That patronage in our Boeotian city

We ’re told quite rare is.

Poor Pen ! Society’s darlings cold and curled^

Are Pen-shunners. Alas ! what can it profit
To purge and permeate, mould and move “ the World,
Yet not be of it ?

The Bournemouth Breach oe Promise on Appeal.
—The Miller may be jolly now, but where does the Jor
come in ?