Punch: Punch (100.1891)

May 16, 1891.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

231

JOKIM THE CELLAEEE j OE, THE BLEND.

Air.—" Simon the Cellarer."

'Cute Joklm the Cellarer keeps a large store

Of choice Party Spirits, d'ye see ;
Scotch, Irish, and who can say how many more ?

An eclectic old soul is he.
But mainly in " Blends " he is good, dark or pale,
For he knows without them his best bottlings may fail;
But he never faileth, he archly doth say,
For he well knows what tap suits the taste of the day.
And ho I ho ! ho ! his books will show
He oft taps the barrels of Brummagem Joe !

oe sits all the time in his own still-room,
And a taster clever is he.
'Tis in vain that his enemies kick up a fume,

And swear he is half a Torie.
But there are sly meetings upon the backstair,
And watchers say Joe is oft gossiping there.
Now Joe distrusts someone who's Grand, and who's Old,
And says that he must be kept " out in the cold."
And ho! ho ! ho ! old Joexm doth know
That many a flask of his best comes from Joe.

'Cute Joexm keeps blending Joe's taps and his own ;

Though knowing harsh rumours are rife ;
And Brummagem Joe is oft heard to declare,

Their partnership may last for life.
And Jokiji says, " some call Brum Joe a bad chap,
But they '11 soon learn to relish the taste of his tap,
And while I may Brummagem J oe call my friend,
1 think I shall customers find for our ' Blend.' "
While ho ! ho! ho ! he '11 chuckle and crow ;
"What, turn up Brum Joe, my boys ? No ! no! no !"

OPEEATIC NOTES.

Monday, May 4.— Zecie de Lussan's Carmen is about the best
when all the other dear charmers are away, and in the character she
will probably remain in possession of the field, or, rather, "the
Gaiden," till the end of the season. The remainder as before, with

Devoyod as JSscamiUo. But what has be-
come of the "go" in the Toreadors great
song ? Where are the double encores f
Where, indeed, the hearty applause ?
Surely it has gone the way of the March
in Faust, once so enthusiastically received
and cheered to the echo ; and now—" March
off I" It is true that, once let a "tuney
tune" become vulgarised by street-musi-
cians, and organic disease would be suffi-
cient to kill it were it not tortured and
ground to death by remorseless hands. But
the Toreador's song and the March have
not been the victims of an organised oppo-
sition. Perhaps, though, they may have been, only 'tis so long ago
as not to be within the ken of the present deponent. Anyhow,
the Toreador's song goes for nothing nowadays, and yet 'tis as good
as ever.

Thursday.—We welcomed The Don. Not the Academic Don once
so popularly represented by Mr. J. L. Toole, but Mozart's
Italianised Spanish Don. A propos of Mr. Toole, it has always
been the wonder of his friends, to whom the quality of his vocal
powers is so well known, that he has never been tempted to renounce
the simple histrionic for the lyric Drama. It is said, and " greatly
to his credit," that, had it not been for his unwillingness to rob his
friend Sims Reeves of the laurel-crown he wears as first English
Tenor of his age, he would long ago have set up a most dangerous
opposition to that sweet singer, and have ridden off victoriously
with " My Pretty Jane" seated up behind him, pillion-wise, on the
noble steed known as " The Bay of Biscay 0 J"

But the above is an entr'acte, shorter than those atCovent Garden,
by the way. M. Maurel first-rate as the Don, both in acting and
hinging, even better in former than latter ; but the dear old serenade,
which never can be vulgarised, in spite of its popularity, was encored,
and the encore was gracefully accepted, Signor Bevignani being in
ihe chair, and willing to tap the desk and announce, " Gentlemen!
Monsieur Maurel will oblige again ! " Applause.

If all the village maidens could dress in a costume Buch as Miss
Zelie-Zerlina wears, then, to take the best and nicest view of it,
that village must be uncommonly prosperous. Probably tourists'
visits are not few and far between : but anyhow, even the most un-
suspicious bumpkin of a lover, would be inclined to ask a few ques-
tions about this finery. However, her performance was as fine as

THE ETERNAL FITNESS OF THINGS.

Son of the House. "You're not Dancing, Mr. Lambert! Don't
vott wish to ? "

Mr. Lambert {who is not so slim as he used to he). " Certainly—if

t0tj can find me A CONCAVE PARTNER 1 "

the dress, and she looked quite the Zelie-Zerlina, so fascinating to
the Lord and the Lout.

Saturday—Borneo et Juliette, that is, M. Jean de Reszke and
Mile. Eames. A nearly perfect performance. Jean a trifle too stout
for an ideal Borneo, but of course he couldn't go into training for the
part at short notice. The spirit with which he played the part far
outweighed the error of the flesh. Miss Eames a charming Juliet in
every way, though her singing of the Waltz was not of dazzling fire-
work brilliancy. Brother Ned was the Frere Laurent. Excellent.
The name. Anglo-Frenchified, suggests a reverend gentleman who
would meddle with legal marriages and perform private ceremonies
without leave or licence from his Ordinary. Might be known as
Brother Law-wrong, an Extra-Ordinary Friar. The House crammed
full with an audience as brilliant as the performance.

THE LAST SONG.

[Mr. Sims Reeves was announced to Bing " Total Eclipse " at his Farewell
Concert on Monday.]

Farewell ! A most unwelcome word to all
Whom fifty years of charm have held in thrall:
Total eclipse—of pleasure on their part
Who love pure melody and polished Art.
Memory will echo long the silvery chime
Of such a voice as even ruthless Time
Might stay his stride to listen to, and spare
From the corroding touch. Some scarce will care
To hear " Tom Bowling " sung by other lips,
And when in tenor strains " Total Eclipse "
Sounds next upon our ears, Sims Reeves will seem
To sing again to us as in a pleasant dream.