Punch (91.1886)

July 31, 1886.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHAKIVAPJ. 49

ROBERT'S RECKERLEKSHUNS.

No. II.

i I was saying the

other week as how
things has haltered

Hill DINNER-

as respeos Dinners
and their conse-
quencys, hut them
ain't the honely
things as has hal-
tered, quite the con-
trary. Just think
of the Play Haetors
for one thing. Why,
poor RoBSONused to
give us Tradgedy
and Conimedy all in
one, when he played
Shylock, and both
on 'em much better
than we ever gits
now ewen when a
part. And then how
the mussells of one's
face all relackses as
it were, when one
thinks of Mr. and
Mrs. Keeley! and
Adelfi Weight, and
gloryous Liston !
Ah, them was times,
them was, and
didn't I go pretty
hoffen, and didn't I
gammon the Guv'-
nor as I was de-
tained on bizziness.

/($T* I sumtimes wunders
/ 1 if my Boys gammons
rr , , me similar. Ah!

mac s a rum question, that is, as we Patients has to hask one
another now and then. One thing's quite surten, they hasn't the
same temtashun, so they hasn't the same egscuse.

It ever I wants, for sertain reasons, to speshally please the Missus,
1 takes her fust of all to a Restarong were I'm well known, and
there we sleets a nice littel dinner from the large Bill of Fair, and
then I takes her to the Theater, for witch I generally manages to git
a Horder, so it doesn't cost werry much, tho' I gits the credit of
quitea hextravygant heavening's emusement. Ah, the way as we
sumtimes gammons our pore confiding spowses is sumthink amost
two bad. If I was a wife, witch I thank goodness I ain't, I shood
allers think as sumthink was a leetle rong when my lorf ul iord and
marster was speshal atentif. But as to the Theater, why it's no
more like wot it used to be than Claret's like werry old Port.

When I was a young man I used to wait at the CristeaL Palles,
when Maesto, and. Geeesee, and all the Itallian singers from the
Hopera used to sing there on Satterdays. And they used to set at a
littel Table just at the back of the Concert Room, and I used to wait
on'em ; and one day, as far as I cood make out from their forren
gibberish, they had a bet about being ancored, and MaeYO—ah,
wasn't he jest a andsome gennelman, that's all, and as ginerus as he
was andsome—he goes up into the Orkestrar and he sings what they
calls a Serrynade, and its name was sumthink like " Come it
Genteelly," and he got sitch a anoour as I hardly never heard, and
wen he came hack they all received him with clapping of ands,
Geeesee and all, and then she went up and sung " Ome, sweet
Oine" and sung it so bootiful as amost made me cry • and she got
jest sitch another ancour, and then they all clapped their ands at
her, and she made 'em jest such a curtesy as they makes on the
stage, with her ands holding out her dress quite wide, and then they
all larfed together, and so I larft too, and then she acshally cum and
shook ands with me and said, " You likes ze musick," and I said,
Yes, Mum, when you sings it," and then she larfed again, and left
rne. Ah, I wunder how mutch sum of the swells there wood have
given for that shake of the hand from about the most lovelyest
singer as I ever herd, and one of the most butifullest creetures as T
ever seed.

I 'ye herd my Father say as he seed her make her fust apearance
in this Country at the Hopera Ouse, in a Hopera called " the Gassy
Larder" or sum such name, witch he said he was told meant " the
Maid and the Magpie" but I think as how his pore memory must
have been a failing him. Fansy The Maid and the Magpie at the
Grand Hopera Ouse! of coarse its too absurd. But he used to say
that wen she cum a tripping down the stage from the back of it

with a basket of flowers on her butiful wite harm, him and all his
frends in the Gallery thort as she looked xactly like a singing
Hangel! And we waiters ain't such werry bad judges of that
partickler article, speshally as we sees 'em at their werry best, full
drest and arf ter dinner, and trying their werry most to please every-
body, as all women shood allers do, excep praps just our own par-
tickler wives.

Ah! wat a grand singer that Maeto was, and didn't he jest
f assenate the Ladys. Why I wunse heard a werry butiful Lady say,
at a dinner as I were atending at, that her name was Maetha, and
that one night when she was at the Hopera, in the Stage Box on the
fust floor, (I think as they calls it the Grand Tear), he sang a song
all about Maetha ! Maetha ! and held out his arms as if he longed
for her to cum to him, and that she had as much as ever she could
do to keep herself from jumping into 'em! Ah, that would ha'
been a staggering stage effect if you like, for I shood think as she
waved about twelve stun.

My Father was, of coarse, a fine old Tory, so am I, and so is all us
Waiters; naturally so, for altho we hear peeple tork of hungry
Raddicles, it's ony just for common wittles and beer, and such like ;
they don't seem to have money enuff to pay for grate dinners. But
I remembers him telling us as a suckemstance occurd once as amost
shook his faith. The great Dook of Wellington, the leader of 'em
all, past, present, or to cum, was a dining in Gildhall, on some werry
grate ocashun, and the Committee had got sum wonderfool old
Sherry for him, jest for a treat, and one of 'em helped him to a glass
of it jest to see his estonishment, and he jest sipped it, and all he
said was, " Yes, werry good, werry good," and then he filled up his
glass with water! As my Father werry natrally said, if it hadn't a
been that he knowed as he had wun the Battle of Waterloo, and a
few others, he shood have amost despised him. Robeet

AN EAST-COAST CAROL.

For the coming Holiday Season.

Do you wish for a holiday, lounge at

your ease,
Where fair Cromer looks down on the

blue Eastern seas;
Or northward to Hunstanton Sands

you may range,
Which were anciently held by the

house of L'Estrange;
You can look o'er the Wash to the

Lincolnshire Coast,
And see signs that the Romans once
here ruled the roast.

You may sojourn at Yarmouth, whereat

you will find
That the bloater was famous there time
out of mind;

1 This wants looking into!" 'Tis a pleasant old town that reminds
one so much

Of the Rotterdam quay-side, you fancy it's Dutch;
If you haven't been there, you would never suppose
There was aught in the world half so queer as the "Rows."

Then you '11 visit the Broads. All their wonders to tell,

Mr. Christophee Davies has written so well;

And Miss Hatton's deft pencil has drawn them, we know.

It's the place for the artist and angler to go :

You can shoot, fish, and paint in the laziest way,

And you'll like it the better the longer you stay.

Bright Lowestoft welcomes you, azure and clear

Are the waves that roll upto the pleasantest pier ;

There are Southwold and W alberswick, where will be found

The artists uncommonly thick on the ground:

There are Dunwich and Aldeburgh, pleasant 1 guess

Are the health-giving breezes that sweep Orfordness.

There are Harwich and Doveroourt, Felixstow too

Claims praise, which we vow is no more than its due;

From there is a trip far too pleasant to lose,

To Antwerp or Rotterdam, just as you choose.

So hereafter the bard will be able to boast

That his yerses haye sent you to try the East Coast.

Consolation.—The New York World has started a subscription
for a Gladstone Testimonial. This is really kind, and opportune
withal. The G.O.M. is out of collar (though doubtless not out ol
Collars), and so his American sympathisers hope to alleviate ms
dolour—by the aid of dollars.

vol. xci.