Punch (98.1890)

Maech 29, 1890.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI _^_

MR. PUNCH'S MORAL MUSIC-HALL DRAMAS.

No. IX.—UNDER THE HARROW.

A Conventional Comedy-Melodrama, in two Acts.
Characters.

Sir Poshbuby Puddock (a haughty and high-minded Baronet).
Veebena Puddock {his Daughter).
Lobd Bleshugh {her Lover).
Spikee {a needy and unscrupulous Adventurer).
Blethees {an ancient and attached Domestic).
ACT I.—Scene—The Morning Room at Natterjack Hall, Toadley-
le-Hole; large windoiv open at back, with heavy practicable sash.
Enter Blethees.

Blethers. Sir Poshbuby's birthday to-day—his birthday I—and
■ ■ *— u« urMOTito. Ob. Lor !

Sp. Bye-laws are bye-laws, old buck! there's no time limit in
criminal offences that ever I heard of! Nothing can alter the fact
that you, being turned thirteen, obtained a half-ticket by a false
representation that you were under age. A line from me, even now,
denouncing you to the Traffic Superintendent, and I'm very much
afraid-

Sir P. {writhing). Spikee, my—my dear friend, you won't do
that—you won't expose me ? Think of my age, my position, my
daughter!

Sp. Ah, now you've touched the right chord! I was thinking of
your daughter—a nice lady-like gal—I don't mind telling you she
fetched me, Sir, at the first glance. Give me her hand, and I burn
the compromising half-ticket before your eyes on our return from
church after the wedding. Come, that's a fair offer!

Sir P. {indignantly). My child, the ripening apple of my failing
6yMl I li Sai to a Dlackmailing blackguard like you! Never

the gentry giving-of Mmpresents Oh, Lor. „ Jnst ag

if they only knew^whalJcould^L^^'l^L .. . I kindly oblige me with writing materials, I will

and must tell, too, before long but not yet , 1 |g^j just irop a line to the Traffic Superintendent-

not>'et: 1 iJli, \\\\ W& I I. ,. f*rP.{ hoarsely). No, no; not that... Wait,

Enter Lord Bleshugh and Veebena. IMft \ LJ/Ur "(! ! M il • ' i,- ^ sPeak to my daughter. I pro-

is loved and respected by every one. And I— .. ^^^McWriniii'K-. Hi .-'I So Well mn W »™ „_v ■ , .

flJ%ames^' [Swaggers insolently out as Vbeb. enters.

would make me a little housewite KW- iWi£pp&, &y p. Mv child, I have just received an offer

[Comedy love-dialogue omitted owing i| WUm ^MB^'^ for your hand. I know not if you will consent ?

want of space. , p crossing I ji \\ SmrmM i'l'llir" Verb. I can guess who has made that offer,

Verb. Oh, do fo« I-ttBJrid £ following !' jB&f. m\ ;§| and why. I consent with all my heart, dear Papa,

the lawn with, oh, sucti a nui |i ^ J^i iiM#^||»||^' Sir P. Can I trust my ears! You consent f

him I "Portnlflr bounder. Shocking bad hat! s) "ri;-K\^Ul! r' Noble girl! , [He embraces her.

Lord B. Regular houmter.s <|| %M^mYS^^I^^^ Verb. I was quite sure dear Bleshugh meant

let *M. face' Why doesn't Papa order him W % W"*"*- to speak' and 1 -^T. h-im T? "Tfc

so bad as his face . vy yinTiting him in! = =A\ Wk \ v, <Kr P. {starting). It is not Lord Bleshugh,

to go away i Oh, tie is ^uua. y & _ ^ ^-M^~-^^^B=^=^ my child, but Mr. Samuel Spikee, the gentle-

_ . . a:r Posjuitjet, gloomy and constrained, ^^..^jg^^i^jg^^jii^^^ man (for ne j8 aj heart a gentleman) whom I

with Spikee, who is jaunty, and somewhat 6^ ^"^^^^f^^^^^^^^f^ introduced to you just now.

_____ familiar.

over-famitia?. -^-jS^Sg^^pli^fer Verb. I have seen so little of him, Papa, I

Spiker {sitting on the piano, and dusting his ^=-=5^-^—cannot love him—you must really excuse me'

Sir P. Ah, but you will, my darling, you will-I know your un

boots"with'"handkerchief)'. Cosy little shanty you've got here, Pud

v0^~~peT(with^a gulp). I am—ha—delighted that you approve of it!
a if* Veebena ! [Kisses her on forehead.

iniker Your daughter, eh? Pooty gal. Introduce me.

"P ' [Sir Posh, introduces him—with an effort.

Verbena, {coldly). How do you do ? Papa, did you know that the

u- . „f' this window was broken ? If it is not mended, it will fall
SaS^ebody's head, and perhaps kill him !

|y P. {absently). Yes—yes, it shall be attended to; but leave us,
child' go. Bleshugh, this—er—gentleman and I have business
"f^mtiortance to discuss.

\mker. Don't let us drive you away, Miss ; your Pa and me are

lv talking over old times, that's all—eh, Posh ?

Sir P. (,'n 0 tortured aside). Have a care, Sir, don't drive me too
. i if'0 Yeeb.) Leave us, I say. (Lord B. and Vebb. go out, raising
their eyebrows.) Now, Sir, what is this secret you profess to have

Smker^Oti, a mere nothing. {Takes out a cigar.) Got a light about

Ji Thanks. Perhaps you don't recollect twenty-seven years ago
this very day, travelling from Edgware Road to Baker Street, by
the Underground Railway ?

Sir P. Perfectly; it was my thirteenth birthday, and I celebrated
the event by a visit to Madame Tussaud's.

Spiker. Exactly; it was your thirteenth birthday, and you tra-
velled second-class with a half-ticket—{meaningly)—on your thir-
teenth birthday.

Sir P. {terribly agitated). Uiena that you are, how came you to

^Spiker. Very simple. I was at that time in the temporary position
of ticket-collector at Baker Street. In the exuberance of boyhood,
you cheeked me. I swore to be even with you some day.

Sir P. Even if—if your accusation were well-founded, how are
you going to prove it ? , ,

Sp Oh that's easy! I preserved the half-ticket, on the char.ce
that I should require it as evidence hereafter.

Sir P. {aside). And so the one error of an otherwise blameless
boyhood has found me out—at last. (To Spikee.) I fear you not; my
crime—if crime indeed it was—is surely condoned by twenty-seven
long years of unimpeachable integrity!

selfish nature—you will, to save your poor old dad from a terrible
disgrace . . yes, disgrace, listen! Twenty-seven years ago^—{he tells
her all). Veebena, at this very moment, there is a subscription on
foot in the county to present me with my photograph, done by an
itinerant photographer of the highest eminence, and framed and
glazed ready for hanging. Is that photograph never to know the
nail which even now awaits it ? Can you not surrender a passing
girlish fancy, to spare your fond old father's fame ? Mr. Spikee is
peculiar, perhaps, in many ways—not quite of our monde—but he
loves you sincerely, my child, and that is, in itself, a recommenda-
tion. Ah, I see—my prayers are vain ... be happy, then. As for
me, let the police come—I am ready! [ Weeps.

Verb. Not so, Papa; I will marry this Mr. Spikee, since it is your
wish. . [Sir Posn. dries his eyes,

Sir P. Here, Spikee, my dear fellow, it is all right. Come in
She accepts you.

Enter SriKEE.

Sp. Thought she would. Sensible little gal! Well, Miss, you
shan't regret it._ Bless you, we'll be as chummy together as a couple
of little dicky-birds!

Verb. Mr. Spikee, let us understand one another. I will do my
best to be a good wife to you—but chumminess is not mine to give,
nor can I promise ever to be your dicky-bird.

Enter Lord Bleshugh.

Lord B. Sir Poshbuet, may I have five minutes with you ?
Veebena, you need not go. {Looking at Spikee.) Perhaps this person
will kindly relieve us of his presence.

Sp. Sorry to disoblige, old feller, but I'm on duty where Miss
Veebena is now, you see, as she's just promised to be my wife.

Lord B. Your wife !

Verb, {faintly). Yes, Lord Bleshugh, his wife!
Sir P. Yes, my poor boy, his wife !
[veebena totters, and falls heavily in a dead faint, b.c., upsetting
a flower-stand; Lord Bleshugh stagers, and swoons on sofa, c.,
overturning a table ofknicknacks; Sir Poshbttrv sinks into chair,
l.c., and covers his face with his hands.
Sp. {looking down on them triumphantly). Under the Harrow, by
Gad! Under the Harrow! [Curtain, and end of Act 1.

vol. xcvm.