Punch (88.1885)

280

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [J^a 13, 1885.

NOISES OF THE NIGHT.

A REAL PLEASURE.

I sought my couch that quiet
My system might restore,
When—bless me, what a riot!

No chance to slumber more !
Some fool’s locked, out; he’ll
racket,

And heat the door, and whack
it,

And skirmish and attack it,

Till he breaks down the door!

He ’s done at last! Now scatter
Thy poppy, Somnus, do.

Hullo, what is the matter ?

Was that a Cock that crew ?

It ioas,—and hark the squalling,
The scurry, and miawling,

Of Cats, the caterwauling,
Abominable crew!

Next ’Abbies without number
Come clamouring along.

They scatter dream and slumber
With blasphemy and song,

And scarcely do they mizzle,
When dreadful through the
drizzle,

The Railways screech and whistle.
This really is too strong!

I had not closed a peeper,

And rest seemed wondrous
sweet,

When, lo, the Chimney-sweeper !

Came screamingdownthe street.
The Milkman raised a clamour,
Then Hammer, hammer, hammer !
“ The Postman ’tis,” I stammer.
And now they carpets beat!

Here, as I sit inditing
My “ copy” for the Press,
Three bands, their brass uniting,
Invade the peacefulness;

Five organs, and a vendor
Of faggots for the fender,

One preacher, a pretender,

What right has he to bless ?

Ah, for some cottage lonely
The burn goes singing by,
There wakes no sound, or only
The sheep-hells, and the sigh
Of winds that stir the cover,

The plaining of the plover,

The song of larks that hover
Beneath the arch of sky!

There dog nor cat shall waken
To vex the sacred night,

Nor tunes of maids mistaken,

Nor any dynamite..

Nor screams of boys infernal,
That cry the ev’ning journal;

Nor that remark eternal,

“ A light, Sir,—box o’ light’! ”

Proserpine Gardens, Kensington, W.

{Nibls at the Inventories on lime the Fifth.)

The Conversazione given by Sir Fbedeeick and Lady Leonoba
Bbamweld on Friday night last, at the Inventories, was perfection.
A lovely night, a rare and varied musical entertainment, select
company, a festival of colour, iced cups, fragrant coffee, and the
choice Havannah—such a combination made three hours pass away
like some fairy vision. The rain politely held off till a quarter past
twelve, and then it had its turn, but gently at first, giving the guests
full warning, and.'plenty of time to get away comfortably.

Paris and Vienna must pale their ineffectual fires before the mar-
vellous effects of electric lighting at the Inventories, and I should
say that at the present moment no Capital in Europe can offer any-
thing like such a show—such an Arabian .Nights’ Entertainment—as
is to be seen at the Inventories, and especially when exhibited to
such advantage as on the occasion of this Conversazione.

But what shall I say of Strauss’s Band, which shared the Pro-
gramme with the others, playing from ten to twelve ? What shall
I say of Eduabd Stbauss, Prince of Conductors of Dance Music, the
like of whom for energy, for action, and for “go” for the “ lilt” which
he communicates to the Band, and through them to the Audience,
I have not seen since the days of Jullien,—1“ Mons. ” Juelien, who
was the delight of the holidays of my boyhood ? It seems to me a
mistake that Eduabd Steauss should ever include in his Programme
such pieces as Chopin's “ Marche Funebre,” or an “ Ave Maria,"
by Schubeet. Odi profanum—but when I heard the last-mentioned
composition, I could not help momentarily expecting to see the active
Conductor suddenly throw off the self-imposed restraint, and take
the hymn in waltz, polka, or galop time. Chassez le naturel, il
reviendra au galop.

On Friday night, however, the Ave Maria was received with, if
possible, greater favour than any of the other selections. Pretty to see
the people catching the Strauss fever, and moving their heads and
then their feet in the strictest time ! The performance of dance-
music by Stbauss’s Band is a revelation. It unvulgarises even the
polka, and, from time to time, imparts an elevating tone to that un-
graceful and prosaic dance. In honour of the event I present the
world, on the usual terms, with a new version of. Chables F.
Adams’s delightful poem of Leedle Yawcob Strauss, which, of course,
I call

LEEDLE EDUARD STRAUSS.

They haf von very clever man
At der Inventorees,

To see him schust conduct der
band,

Dots zomtings if you please.

His band blays not too loud nor
zoft,

It kicks not up a touse,

Oh, peutiful! der schaps are few
Like leedle Eduabd Stbauss.

He hops und sehumps und marks
der time,

Und shows such taste and nous,

Dot dere’s to equal him no vun,
Mine clever Eduabd Stbauss !

He fills our ears mit lofely sounds,
Applause 1 ‘ brings down der
nouse,”

Dot happens to feu oder poys,

But leedle Eduabd Stbauss.

He dakes der viddle in his hands,
Und he schust blay it, too !

He dake der schtick to beat der
time,

Mine gracious, dot vos drue.

Und ven der beeble hear dot band
Dey at each oder glance,

Den vag deir heads, den move deir
veet,

Und vish dot dey might dance.

Und ven dey blay der “ Danube
Slue,'”

Vich vos vor an encore,

Dey velcome it as zomtings new,
Und call for it vonce more.

Der beeble listen as dey blay
As guiet as a mouse,

Dere’s none vor dance tunes any
day

Like leedle Eduabd Stbauss.

And with this and my very strongest recommendation to every
one to go and hear Stbauss’s Band play dance-music, and to clever
Eduabd Stbauss to stick to his dance-music while he’s here, I re-
main, the Public’s, very truly, Nibbs.

REASONS WHY I WOULDN’T GO TO THE DERBY.

Because it always runs into such a lot of money somehow.
Because I had refused a seat on a drag.

Because I had made up my mind to stay in and work all day.
Because I invariably back the losers and draw blanks or rank
outsiders.

Because I’ve been there so often.

Because I know it all by heart.

Because I shall catch cold, or the sun will he too strong for me.
Because I hate a crowd.

Because I shan’t be hack in time for dinner.

Because—oh—for a heap of other excellent reasons.

But—/went after all.

Milton Modified.

{For the benefit of the hard-hearted, inconsiderate dames who object to being
served by sitting shop-girls.)

“ They also serve whojonly sit and wait.”

The Laex on the Tube.—The Rev. F. 0. Mokbis, Ornithological
Correspondent of the Times, announces that he has noticed a scarcity
of Larks. He might have enjoyed the observation of no end of
Larks, if he had gone to the Derby.

Not an Adaptation.—Nad Boys, at the Opera Comique, is a
' genuine translation. It has been translated from the Comedy Theatre
| to the Opera Comique.