Punch (90.1886)

May 1, 1886.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

205

COMPENSATION.

"Ullo, Jones! You in Paris !"

"Yes ; I've just bun over foe a Holiday."

"Where's your Wife I"

"Couldn't come, pooe Deae. Had to stop at Home on
account of the p>aby ! "

"Why, youe Holiday will be half spoiled!"
"Yes. Mean to stay twice as long, to make up !"

THE CINDERELLA OF THE ARTS.

(A Story told after Dinner.)

Tbleee were once three sisters, called respectively Paintinga,
Musicana, and Deamatica, and they lived together on terms of not
entire amity. Paintinga and Musicana were very proud—one had
a fine House near the Burlington Arcade, where once a year she
entertained the greatest of the land, and the other boasted the admi-
ration of a Naval Royalty, who played the fiddle and once composed
a Waltz. Deamatica had neither of these advantages, and had to
satisfy herself with merely being infinitely richer than her sisters, and
altogether better off. So, while Paintinga and Musicana were
dining, and listening to the more or less sweet sounds of an illustrious
violinist, poor Deamatica stayed at home amongst the wealthy and
great. , ,

One day, when the latter, as usual, was lamenting her fate—so
different from her sisters—her Fairy Godfather suddenly appeared
"bsforG Ilgt.

"I am not surprised that voushould be sorrowful," he observed,
passing his hand through his long iron-grey hair, and fixing hispmce-
nez on his nose, " for you are indeed unfortunate.

" Am I not ?" said Deamatica, casting from her some ducal in-
vitations that had been sent to amuse her—poor thing, she had few
playthings. " Am I not, indeed ? " '

liIt is a pity that you are not able to take a degree at Oxford and
Cambridge," continued the Fairy, "or at any rate, write R.A. after

y°" I should like to do that very much—I was always fond of the
Royal Artillery," almost sobbed the poor child (she was much younger
than her sisters, being scarcely three thousand years old), and thus
showing her naivete. ... „v

"I meant the Royal Academy," returned the Fairy Godfather,

with an amused smile; "not that the Royal Academy of Music goes
for much."

"No, it does not," said. Deamatica, decisively; "especially since
the Royal College of Music took the wind out of its sails."

"Poor thing! " sighed the Fairy. " What shall I do for you ? "

"lam sure I don't know. You are aware that I have a number
of connections always out of an engagement. Couldn't you help
them?"

The Fairy considered for a moment, and then replied,—

" Well, I would if I could. But you see, my dear, that the com-
pany at my Theatre is complete. 1 am afraid I couldn't promise
them an engagement."

" That is very sad, for I am sure they are full of talent. Couldn't
you get other Fairies with theatres like yourself to assist them ?"

"That I would, indeed," replied the Godfather, earnestly ; "and
if anything I could say would influence them, I would utter it. But
you see the other Fairies with Theatres, like myself, seem to be in a
similar predicament."

Poor Deamatica burst into tears, and her Godfather was grieved
to the heart.

"What is to become of them all?" she moaned—" the Leading
Man, the First Old Woman, the Singing Chambermaid, and the
Walking Gentleman ? Can't you help tbem ? "

" I have it! " cried the Fairy at last, triumphantly. "Although
I and my brother Fairies like to keep our stages to our own tried
companies, there is no reason why the State should not help the
others. Had I my way, there should be a Grand National Theatre—
say sixty miles from London, because the Government would have
no right to interfere with vested interests by organising a public-
purse-paid opposition—and in this Grand National Theatre all the
unacting should have their chance."

"But who would go to see them?" asked Deamatica, smiling
through her tears.
_ "I have nothing to do with that," replied the Fairy ; "but, con-
sidering that lunatics and paupers are under Government control,
there should be no serious difficulty in arranging for an audience."

"That would be very nice, indeed," said Deamatica. "And
now, my dear friend, why did you call me the ' Cinderella of the
Arts' ? " _

The Fairy smiled, and wiped his pince-nez. " Well," he began,
smilingly, '11 am not quite sure when I used the expression that I
quite understood my own meaning. You see it was a charity dinner."

"That is scarcely an answer," replied Deamatica. " Can't you
(as the lawyers say) contrive to mend it ? I repeat, why did you call
me Cinderella ? "

"That is decidedly a conundrum," replied the Fairy Godfather,
after careful consideration.

And when that conundrum is solved, this story shall be continued.

THE MEGiERAS OF TO-DAY.

[Mr. Justice Wills commented very severely on the presence and
behaviour of the women in Court during the trial of Mrs. Bartlett.]

Not women surely these who go to gloat

Upon a woman in her agony;
To watch the ebb and flow of hope, to note

Whether the law shall doom her or set free.

We know a page that stains French histories ;

How women knitted while the guillotine
Did its fell work before their cruel eyes ;

And sighed to think such things could e'er have been.

But now in England of to-day, the Court

That tries a hapless woman for her life,
Is crammed with sister-women, and their sport

Is watching twists and turns of legal strife,

As the net closes round her. How they smile,
Those fashionable dames ; men hold their breath

In silence, while girls chatter ■ for the while
A woman hovers between life and death.

Look at her well, and poise the smart lorgnette,

The theatre can show no braver sight;
And murmur in light-hearted phrases, yet

Methinks her face is growing ghastly white.

Women, they tell us, in Inrperial Rome,

Were fiercest for the gladiator's blood;
And lo ! we have their congeners at home—

A foul disgrace to English womanhood !

The Great Soapists have bought Sir John Millais' picture of a
child blowing bubbles for £2,200. Big price. Sir John will hence-
forth be known as Sir "Bubbley-Jock " Mtxiais.

voi. xc.