Punch (100.1891)

February 7, 1891.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 61

THE ''MODEL HUSBAND" CONTEST.

Scene the First—At the Galahad-Greens'.
Mrs. G.-G. Galahad!
Mr. G.-G. [meekly). My love ?

Mrs. G.-G. I see that the proprietors of All Sorts are going to
follow the American example, and offer a prize of £20 to the wife

who makes out the best case for her
husband as a Model. It's just as
well, perhaps, that you should know
that I've made up my mind to enter
you !

Mr. G.-G. {gratified). My dear
Cornelia ! really, I'd no idea you

had such a-

Mrs. G.-G. Nonsense! The draw-
ing-room carpet is a perfect disgrace,
and, as you can't, or won't, provide

~ the money in any other way, why-

V Would you like to hear what I've
said about you ?

Mr. G.-G. Well, if you're sure it wouldn't be troubling you too
much, I should, my dear.

Mrs. G.-G. Then sit where I can see you, and listen. {She reads.)
" Irreproachable in all that pertains to morality "—(and it would be
a bad day indeed for you, Galahad, if I ever had cause to think
otherwise.') — "morality; scrupulously dainty and neat m his
person"—(ah, you may well blush, Galahad, but, fortunately, they
won't want me to produce you!)—" he imports into our happy home
the delicate refinement of a preuz chevalier of the olden time." (Will
you kindly take your dirty boots off the steel fender ! ) " We rule
our little kingdom with a joint and equal sway, to which jealousy and
friction are alike unknown ; he, considerate and indulgent to my
womanly weakness,"—(You need not stare at me in that perfectly
idiotic fashion!)—" I, looking to him for the wise and tender support
which has never yet been denied. The close and daily scrutiny of
many years has discovered "—(What are you shaking like that for ?)

— " discovered no single weakness ; no taint or flaw of character ; no
irritating- trick of speech or habit." (How often have I told you
that I will not have the handle of that paper-knife sucked ? Put it
down; do!) "His conversation—sparkling but ever spiritual—
renders our modest meals veritable feasts of fancy and flows of soul
. . . Well, Galahad ?

Mr. G.-G. Nothing, my'dear ; nothing. It struck me as well,—a
trifle flowery, that last passage, that's all!

Mrs. G.-G. {severely). If I cannot expect to win the prize without
descending to floweriness. whose fault is that, I should like to know ?
If you can't make sensible observations, you had better not speak
at all. {Continuing.) "Over and over again, gathering me in his
strong loving arms, and pressing fervent kisses upon my forehead,
he has cried, ' Why am I not a Monarch that so I could place a
diadem upon that brow ? With such a Consort, am I not doubly
crowned ? "' Have you anything to say to that, Galahad ?

Mr. G.-G. Only, my love, that I—I don't seem to remember
having made that particular remark.

Mrs. G.-G. Then make it now. I'm sure I wish to be as accurate
as I can. [Mr. G.-G. makes the remark—but without fervour.

Scene the Second— At the Monarch-Jones'.

Mr. M.-J. Twenty quid would come in precious handy just now,
after all I've dropped lately, and I mean to pouch that prize if I
can—so just you sit down, Grizzle, and write out what I tell you;
do you hear ?

Mrs. M.-J. {timidly). But, Monarch, dear, would that be quite
fair ? No, don't be angry, I didn't mean that—I'll write whatever
you please !

Mr. M.-J. You'd better, that's all! Are you ready? I must
screw myself up another peg before I begin. {He screws.) Now,
then. {Stands over her and dictates.) "To the polished urbanity
of a perfect gentleman, he unites the kindly charity of a true
Christian." (Why the devil don't you learn to write decently, eh ?)
"Liberal, and even lavish, in all his dealings, he is yet a stern foe
to every kind of excess "—(Hold on a bit, I must have another nip
after that)—"every kind of excess. Oar married life is one
long drtam of blissful contentment, in which each contends with the
otherinlovingself'-sacrifice." (Haven't youeorkedall thatdown yet!)
"Such cares and anxieties as he has, he conceals from me with
scrupulous consideration as long as possible "—(Gad, I should be a
fool if I didn't !)—" while I am ever sure of finding in him a patient
and sympathetic listener to all my trifling worries and difficulties."

— {Two fs in difficulties, you little fool—can't you even spell?)
" Many a time, falling on his knees at my feet, he has rapturously
exclaimed, his accents broken by manly emotion, ' Oh, that I were
more worthy of such a pearl among women ! With such a helpmate,
I am indeed to be envied! "' That ought to do the trick. If I

don't romp in after that!-{Observing that Mrs. M -J.'s shoxdders

are convulsed.) What the dooce are you giggling at now ?

Mrs. M.-J. I—I wasn't giggling, Monarch dear, only-■

Mr. M.-J. Only what ? Mrs. M.-J. Only crying !

The Sequel.

" The Judges appointed by the spirited proprietors of All Sorts to
decide the 'Model Husband Contest'—which was established on lines
similar to one recently inaugurated by one of our New York contem-
poraries—have now issued their award. Two competitors have sent
in certificates which have been found equally deserving of the prize ;
viz., Mrs. Cornelia Galahad-Green, Graemair Villa, Peckham,
and Mrs. Griselda Monarch-Jones, Aspen Lodge, Lordship Lane.
The sum of Twenty Pounds will consequently be divided between
these two ladies, to whom, with their respective spouses, we beg to
tender our cordial felicitations."—{Extract from Daily Paper, some
six months hence.)

CRUMMLES REDIVIVUS !

For some months Society has been on the tip-toe of expectation
with regard to the new Tragedy by Mr. Shakspeare Smithson,
which is to inaugurate the magnificent Theatre, built at a sumptuous
and total disregard of expense by Mr. Diley Puff, a lineal des-
cendant of the great Pdff family, by
intermarriage with the more recent
Crummles's, expresslv for the perform-
ance of the genuine English Drama. A
veil of secrecy has, however, been drawn
over all the arrangements connected with
the new production. One after another
the Author, the Manager, and the leading
Actors were appealed to in vain. Finally,
one of Our Representatives taking his
courage in both hands, brought it and
himself safely to the stage-door of the
new theatre, and knocked. After some
hesitation he was admitted by an intelli-
gent boy, who, however, at first seemed
indisposed to be drawn into conversation,
though he admitted he had been engaged
for the responsible post of call-boy at an
inadequate salary. Our Representative managed to interest the lad in
the inspection of a numismatic representation of Her Most Gracious
Majestv, which he happened to have brought with him on the back
of half-a-crown, and with which Our Representative toyed, holding
it between the thumb and dexter finger of the right hand. We give
the result in Our Representative's own words :—

"Come this way," said the boy, on whom the sight of the coin
seemed to operate like some weird talisman, leading me to a remote
part of the stage, the floor of which had been tastefully littered with
orange-peel in a variety of patterns ; "we shall be comfortabler."

" Now tell me," I said, " about this new piece."

" It's what they call a Tragedy," said the boy.

"Ah! " I replied, " that is interesting; but I want to know about
the Author. What do you think of him ? "

"Thehorther? Oh my!" said the precocious lad, producing an
apple from his trousers' pocket, but his right eye Btill fixed on the
talisman, " 'e don't count. Why we none of us pays no attention to
'im. Crikey, you should 'a seen 'im come a cropper on his nut down
them new steps. But, look 'ere, Sir," he continued, more solemnly,
" I'm a tellin' yer secrets, I am; and if Diley were to 'ear of it, I'd
get a proper jacketin'. Swear you won't peach."

I gave the requisite pledge. "And that ere arf-crown?" he
said. I nodded assent to what was evidently in his mind. Then
he resumed. "It's a beautiful piece. The play, I mean," he
explained ; being fearful lest I should consider him as over-eager
for the coveted and covenanted reward. "I'm sure o' that. The
horther says so, and Diley says so, and Miss O'Grady says so ;
she's got the 'eroine to play,—and oh, don't she die in the lawst Act
just proper, with pink light and a couple o' angels to carry 'er up !
Then there's Mr. Keane 'Arris, 'e touches 'em all up with 'is
sword, 'places his back to the wall, and defies the mob,' is what the
book says. So you may take it from me, it's fust-rate."

I thanked my intelligent little friend for his information, and was
proceeding to put a further question about the music for this new
Drama, which, as everyone will soon know, is to be a real chef
d'eeuvre of Sir Hauthor Sunnivun, when a step was heard approach-
ing across the stage—the deepest, by the way, in London—to where
we were talking.

"That's 'im," said the bov, trembling. "'E's a noble-'earted
master, so kind and generous, but 'e 'ates deception, and it would be
more than my place is worth to let 'im catch me talking these 'ere
dead secrets to you. Give us the coin. I'm orf! "

And, before I was able to carry out my portion of the contract, he
was gone. And in another moment—so was I.

vol. c.