Punch (88.1885)

February 28, 1885.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

101

VERBECKSTRORDINARY.

^<®jur°r, tut dread a Mesmerist. Something de-
TVf VpoS 'a Conjuror, something: uncanny about a Mesmerist.

xk is a first-rate Professor of Legerdemain, and his

prestidigitation (beautiful
word! ) belongs to the
palmiest days of his art.
One of his best tricks is
the diminishing pack of
cards. How delightful it
must be to be able to do
this with tradesmen’s
“little accounts.”

Most people would, we
feel sure, rather not see
the second part of the en-
tertainment, when, like a
3fephistopheles, he stands
in a theatrical attitude
before Mile, de Marguerit
— of course she is evidently
Marguerite, in the absence
of Faust,—and sends her
off into a mesmeric swoon
In appearance, Mile. Mar-
guerite (this must be the
name) resembles one of the
numerous photographs of
Mrs. Langtry, though
which it is we cannot
exactly call to mind. When
the temporary representa-
tive of the Jersey Lily,—
who is Lady-Teazling at
the Prince’s, and therefore,
except by magic, cannot be
at the Prince’s Hall at the same time,—is rendered sufficiently
cataleptic, M. Yeebeck sticks a pin in her arm and makes her
throw herself into all sorts of difficult attitudes. We remember
having seen Schoolboys, not cataleptic, do much the same thing,
until after the Master had caught them attempting to stick pins into
him without having previously secured him in a mesmeric trance,
and then he became rigid, and they writhed in all sorts of extraordi-
nary attitudes for an hour afterwards.

Nothing of this mesmeric business is particularly new, and if M.
Verbeck will take our advice, he will make the whole entertainment
consist of conjuring. He has plenty of humour, and as he only
speaks French, the requisite lightness is given to the Show by the
interpreter, who is, quite unintentionally, a very comic man. The
audience might have understood M. Verbeck’s French “patter”
rairly enough, if the interpreter had only given them a chance; but
ne wouldn’t. The old-fashioned travelling Conjurors knew the secret
°h,Flabing an entertainment popular when they never went about
without a Jack-pudding. That Interpreter was there to distract our
attention. Very clever this.

Just a few sensational tricks for the second part, and a laughable
-'periment or two on the Interpreter, which would, send everyone
way in high good humour, ana M. Yebbeck’s success would he
assured at the Prince’s Hall.

Mephistopheles and Marguerite at the
Prince’s Hall.

NOT “THE TIMID HARE.”

In a plain straightforward speech Mr. Hare, as Chairman of the
Dramatic Fund Dinner, gave a very smart rap o’ the knuckles to
those of his craft who are always seizing on any occasion for
parading their exceptional liberality towards any of their pro-
fessional brethren in distress. “ I must say,” protested the
candid Chairman, “ that I am astonished to find that a Society which
offers such advantages to its Members should be so very poorly
supported.” Then he went in to hit the right nail on the head, and
that with a powerful thud. “It doubly needs your support,”
pleaded the Chairman, “ in that it (the Dramatic Fund) is quiet and
unostentatious, and, I may say, to some extent unfashionable”—
excellently put Mr. Hare—1 1 in a word it is sadly in need of
funds, and on the principle of that to 1 him that hath shall be
given ’ ” (the Chairman became a trifle mixed here, but the intention
was good) “ the way of the world is too often to give not so much
where help is most needed, as to that charity which is most suc-
cessful,”—in fact where there can be some trumpet sounded before
the almsgiver. We sincerely hope that the immediate results
were most satisfactory, and that these vigorous observations will
stir up those who have given and prated of it, to give as much
again and to hold their tongues, and those who have given in
secret to increase their donations. Mr. Hare’s tag about the
“greatest of all earthly virtues” being “charity,” which he
evidently thought was a correct application of a much misunder-
stood scriptural text to this particular occasion, was not so happily
oonceived as the earlier part of his oratorical effort, for which, as an
example of plain out-speaking, he deserves the praise of all who
are enemies of cant and snobbishness.

Tune-

MR. WHISTLER’S TEN-AND-SIXPENNY O’CLOCK.

Our Jemmy’s Ten o’Clock promises to go like one o’clock. The
style of his One Hour’s Sermon is something between a Touchstone
and an inspired Prophet, or, at all events, of a well-versed-Scripture-
Header. He is never for one moment a “ Dismal Jemmy. He cer"
tainly “ scored” at the Prince’s Hall, and, as Mr. Whistler
hates being indebted to anyone, he paid off several old scores
at the same time. A certain proportion of the crowded audience
had evidently come in the expectation of seeing the McNeil Btand
upon his head, but they were disappointed; the historic white lock
remained uppermost, and James, firmly planted on his feet, delivered
"well-aimed thrusts with the keen rapier of epigrammatic satire.
,, “e Lecturer had his McNeil iling,—a well-executed pas seitl, at
tne Amateur and the Critics, and finally came down heavily, that is
by comparison, on the Aesthetes, who, we should have thought, were,
by this time, hardly worth the trouble of setting on their feeble legs
merely for the fun of knocking them down again. In this Lecturing
Mr. James Whistler is “ Real James” and not TI

tneorioa » ■ - - -

THE BRITISH NAVY.

The Hay of Biscay.”

Time was, with broadside’s
thunder,

When once this Isle of ours
On every sea kept under
The whole world’s Ocean
Powers.

We many a gallant barque
Maintained above their mark;
Therefore they
All gave way
To the British Navy, 0!

But now deep slumber’s pillow
My Lords, the truth to
speak,

Have pressed, till on the billow
They’ve let the strong wax
weak.

Ta-Ta!

The shade of threatening clouds
John Bull’s horizon shrouds;
Hear him say,

“ Why, what, eh !

Where’s the British Navy, OF”

At last a distant morrow
Looms through the hazy
sky,

We mayn’t quite come to sorrow
Meanwhile, ere by-and-by,
Deferring to renew,

Our fleets by far too few,

As we may,

Any day,

Find the British Navy, 0!

In five years hence, however,
With present France, content,
To cope we may endeavour,
Three millions only spent;
Security appears
In sight, for which three cheers
Shout Hooray!

Let us pay

For the British Navy, 0 !

The Pretender. His

OliCOriGg OTl A 4-- M.JLLLA. 11UU JLJLLti A 1 L m,ilUVl . J-JLAkJ

epigram is und {^<3 "^a^Ure may ‘kbateable, hut his power of

‘ Victoria the Colony to Victoria the Queen—

y “ervice to vn„ i »

ice to you, Ma’am!

“I’ll Strike you with a Feather.”

This song of “the great Macdermott” must have inspired Sir
Stafford Northcote when he rose to give notice of his party’s Vote
of Censure on the present Government. Anything more mild and
feeble was probably never heard on such a serious ocoasion in the
Commons House of Parliament. Sir Stafford Northcote’s name
ought to be changed to Southcote—or, more properly, to Dovecote.
He is too gentle.

A Correspondent sends us this, from the Irish Times, Monday,
9th inst.:—

“ The last eleven nights date from to-night of the very successful Panto-
mime of Jack and the Beanstalk. The last morning performance—it is
well to note—will be on Saturday night, the 14th inst.”

Such an Irish Diamond as this is worth the setting.