Punch (99.1890)

304

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [December 27, 1890.

VOCES POPULI.

A CHRISTMAS ROMP.

Scene—Mrs. CRivvsmiEL'D'sDrawing-room. Itisafttr the Christmas
dinner, and the Gentlemen have not yet appeared. Mrs. C. is
laboriously attempting to be gracious to her Brother's Fiancee,
whose acquaintance she has made for the first time, and with
whom she is disappointed. Married Sisters and Maiden Aunts
confer in corners with a sleepy acidity.
First Married Sister (to Second). I felt quite sorry for Feed, to
see Mm sitting there, looking—and no wonder—so ashamed of him-
self—but I always will say, and I always must say, Caboline, that
if you and Robebt had been firmer
with him when he was younger, he
would never have turned out so badly !

Now, there's my Geobge-&c, &c.

Mrs. C. {to the Fiancee). Well, my
dear, I don't approve of young men
getting engaged until they have some
prospects of being able to marry, and
dear Algy was always my favourite
brother, and I've seen so much misery
from long engagements. However, we
must hope for the best, that's all!

A Maiden Aunt [to Second Ditto). Exactly what struck me,
Mabtha. One waiter would have been quite sufficient, and if James
must be grand and give champagne, he might have given us a little
more of it; I'm sure I'd little more than foam in my glass! And
every plate as cold as a stone, and you and I the only people who
were not considered worthy of silver forks, and the children encour-
aged to behave as they please, and Joseph Podmobe made such a
fuss with, because he's well off—and not enough sweetbread to go
the round. Ah, well, thank goodness, we needn't dine here for
another year!

_ Mr. t'hipperfield (at the door). Sorry to cut you short in your
cigar, Uncle, and you Limpett; but fact is, being Christmas night,
I thought we'd come up a little sooner and all have a bit of a romp
. . . Well, Emily, my dear, here we are, all of us—ready for any-
thing in the way of a frolic—what's it to be? Forfeits, games,
Puss in the Corner, something to cheer us all up, eh ? Won't anyone
make a suggestion ? [ General expression of gloomy blankness.

Algernon (to his Fiancee—whom he wants to see shine). Zeffie,
you know no end of games—what's that one you played at home,
with potatoes and a salt-spoon, you know ?

Zeffie (blushing). No. please, Algy ! I don't know any games,
indeed, I couldn't, really !

Mr. C. Unole Joseph will set us going, I'm sure—what do you
say. Uncle?

Uncle Joseph. Well, I won't say "no" to a quiet rubber.

Mrs. C. But, you see, we can't all play in that, and there is a
pack of cards in the house somewhere ; but I know two of the aces
are gone, and I don't think all the court cards were there the last
time we played. Still, if you can manage with what is left, we
might get up a game for you.

Uncle J. (grimly). Thank you, my dear, but, on the whole, I think
I would almost rather romp-

Mr, C. Uncle Joseph votes for romping! What do you say to
Dumb Crambo ? Great fun—half of us go out, and come in on all-
fours, to rhyme to "cat," or "bat," or something—you can play
that, Limpeti ?

Mr. Limpett. If I must find a rhyme to cat, I prefer, so soon after
dinner, not to go on all-fours for it, I confess.

Mr. C. Well, let's have something quieter, then—only do settle.
Musical Chairs, eh ?

Algy. Zeffie will play the piano for you—she plays beautifully.

Zeffie. Not without notes, Algy, and I forgot to bring my music
with me. Shall we play " Consequences " ? It's a very quiet game
—you play it sitting down, with paper and pencil, you know!

Mr. Limpett (sardonically, and sotto voce). Ah, this is something
like a rollick now. "Consequences," eh ?

Algy (who has overheard—in a savage undertone). If that isn't
good enough for you, suggest something better—or shut up!

[Mr. L. prefers the latter alternative.

Mr. O. Now, then, have you given everybody a piece of paper,
Emily? Caboiine, you're going to play—we can't leave you
out of it.

Aunt Caroline. No, James, I'd rather look on, and see you all
enjoying yourselves—I've no animal spirits now!

Mr. C. Oh, nonsense! Christmas-time, you know. Let's be
jolly while we can—give her a pencil, Emily !

Aunt C. No, I can't, really. You must excuse me. I know I'm a
wet blanket; but, when I think that I mayn't be with you another
Christmas, we may most of us be dead by then, why-(sobs).

Fred (the Family Failure). That's right, Mater—trust you to see
a humorous side to everything!

Another Aunt. For shame, Feed ! If you don't know who is re-
sponsible for your poor mother's low spirits, others do !

[The Family Failure collapses.

Mr. Limpett. Well, as we've all got pencils, is there any reason
why the revelry should not commence ?

Mr. C. No—don't let's waste any more time. Miss Zeffie says
she will write down on the top of her paper "Who met whom"
(must be a Lady and Gentleman in the party, you know), then she
folds it down, and passes it on to the next, who writes, ' What he
said to her"—the next, "What she said to him"—next, "What
the consequences were," and the last, "What the world said."
Capital game—first-rate. Now, then!

[ The whole party pass papers in silence from one to another, and
scribble industriously with knitted brows.

Mr. C. Time's up, all of you. I '11 read the first paper aloud.
(Glances at it, and explodes.) He-he!—this is really very funny.
(Reads.) " Uncle Joseph met Aunt Caroline at the—ho—ho!—the
Empire I He said to her, ' What are the wild waves saying ?' and
she said to him, ' It.'s time you were taken away!' The consequences
were that they both went and had their hair cut, and the world said
they had always suspected there was something between them! "

Uncle J. I consider that a piece of confounded impertinence!

[Puffs.

Aunt C. It's not true. I never met Joseph at the Empire. 1 don't
go to such places. I didrit think I should be insulted like this—
(Weeps.)— on Christmas too !

Aunts' Chorus. Feed again !

[ They regard Family Failure indignantly.

Mr. C. There, then, it was all fun—no harm meant. I '11 read the
next. "Mr. Limpett met Miss Zeffie in the Burlington Arcade.
He said to her, ' 0, you little duck!' She said to him, ' Fowls are
cheap to-day!' The consequences were that they never smiled
again, and the world said, ' What price hot potatoes ?' " (Every-
body looks depressed.) H'm—not bad—but I think we'll play some-
thing else now. [Zeffie perceives that Algy is not pleased with her.

Tommy. (To Uncle Joseph). Uncle, why didn't you carve at
dinner ?

Uncle J. Well, Tommy, because the carving was done at a side
table—and uncommon badly done, too. Why do you want to know?

Tommy. Parpar thought you would carve, I know. He told
Mummy she must ask you, because-

Mrs. C. (With a prophetic instinct.) Now, Tommy, you mustn't
tease your Uncle. Come away, and tell your new Aunt Zeffie what
you're going to do with your Christmas boxes.

Tommy. But mayn't I tell him what Parpar said, first?

Mrs. C. No, no; by and by—not now! [She averts the danger.
[Later ; the Company are playing " Hide the Thimble ;" i.e., some-
one has planted that article in a place so conspicuous that few

would expect to find it there. As each person catches sight of it, he

or she sits down. Uncle Joseph is still, to the general merriment,

wandering about and getting angrier every moment.

Mr. C. That's it, Uncle, you 're warm—you're getting warm!

Uncle J. (Boiling over.) Warm, Sir? I am warm—and some-
thing more, I can tell you! [Sits down with a bump.

Mr. C. Tou haven't seen it! I'm sure you haven't seen it.
Come now, Uncle!

Uncle J. Never mind whether I have or have not. Perhaps I
don't want to see it, Sir!

The Children. Then do you give it up? Do you want to be
told ? Why, it's staring you in the face all the time!

Uncle J. I don't care whether it's staring or not—I don't want
to be told anything more about it.

The Children. Then you're cheating, Uncle—you must go on
walking till you do see it!

Uncle J. Oh, that's it, eh ? Very well, then—I '11 walk!

[ Walks out, leaving the company paralysed.

Mrs. C. Run after him, Tommy, and tell him— quick ! [Exit Tommy.

Mr. C. (feebly). I think when Uncle Joseph does come back,
we'd better try to think of some game he can't lose his temper at.
Ah, here's Tommy !

Tommy. I told him—but he went all the same, and slammed the
door. He said I was to go back and tell you that you would find he
was cut up—and cut up rough, too !

Mrs. C. But what did you tell him f

Tommy. Why, only that Parpar asked him to come to-night
because he was sure to cut up well. You said I might 1
[Sensation ; Prompt departure of Tommy for bed; moralising by
Aunts; a spirit of perfect candour prevails ; names are called—■
also cabs; further hostilities postponed till next Christtnas.

Note-Papee Cubbency at Chbistmas.—We see that a "Ri-
parian " note-paper has been brought out by Messrs. Goodall and
Son. This " RiparianPaper "—rather suggestive of " RupeePaper "
—ought to be as safe as the Bank. "G. and Son" (this suggests
G. 0. M. and Master Heebeet) should bring out The Lovers' Note-
paper, and call it " Papier Mashy."