Punch: Punch (101.1891)

28

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[July 18, 1891.

For her satin palm had a sting like steel, and the rowdiest rebel respected her,
VOCES POPULI. j When she'd stretched out six of the hardest lots in the Bible-Class with a

A RECITATION UNDER DIFFICULTIES. Derringer!
. _ . , ,r. -r, -r, ij • , Soc. Chat. No, a very dull party, you could move about quite

8cmv—An Evening Party: Miss Fresia Bltokixsox, a talented &&aR in all the rooms ^ , s t kic-keJ the whole concemto shivers
young Professional Reciter has been engaged to entertain the and ; _ _ came on here ag S0(m aR ^ couM _ _ _ Capital dinner they
company, and is about to deliver the favourite piece entitled, >. f> ug ^ ^c £c

l* Lover of Lobelia Bangs a Cowboy Idi/l.n There is the \ Miss'F. B. '(with as much conviction as possible under the
usual crush, and the guests outside the drawing-room, who can : circums^ances)

neither heat nor see what is going on, console themselves by con- j , . , . , , '

versing in distinctly audible tones. Jammed in a doorway, j And the Sllcnc? deePened; 110 creature stirred m the stagnant hush, and the

between the persons who are trying to get in, and the people who \ on, • ?ounrt. , , • • u , , , ir , Tanrr^ao

mi f . j ft . *. *• t%!„,„a, o„ r<„™f " as the far-on lumbeimg iolt, produced by the prairie rolling lor leagues
would be only too glad to get out, is an Unsophisticated, bruest around' ■

who doesnH know a soul, and is consequently reduced to listening \

to the Recitation. This is what he hears .— Soc. Chat, (crescendo). Oh, an old aunt of mine has gone m tor

„,. . „. , .. .j .. ... , . step-dancing — she's had several lessons. . . and cut her knees

Miss Fresia Blud. (in a tone of lady-like apology). rather badly, y' know, so I put her out to grass ... and now she

I am only a Cowboy-■ c;m S1t Up anc^ hold a biscuit on her nose . . . but she really ought

[Several Ladies put up their glasses, and examine her critically, as to mix a little grey in her wig!

if they had rather expected this confession. Sudden burst of ^c, fyc, to the distraction of the Unsophisticated Guest, who is

Society Chatter from without. getting quite interested in Lobelia Bangs whom he suddenly

Society Chatter. How d'ye do? . . . Oh, but her parties never discovers, much to his s-urprise, on horseback,

are ! . . . How are you ? . . . No, I left her at . . . ^ Miss F. B.

Yes, he's somewhere about . . . Saw you in the And on we cantered, without a word, in the mid-
Row this niornm .... Are you doing anything mk*7\ day beat, on our swift mustangs.

on-? . . . Oh, what a shame. ... .No, but W*%im-x I was only ignorant Cowboy Clem—but I worshipped

doesn't she now ? ... No earthly use trying to |^§tff bright Lobelia Bangs'!

get in at present . . . &e., &c. J '*k& f c. m j. , j- * • ■ \ -a i. x \, l

Miss Fresia B. (beginning again, with meek ft^-X^ , ?°f: C\at (fortissimo). Sot for ages ; but

despair, a little loudet ). Ph "'^ ff\^^- ^ 1 met him he was. , . in a dreadful

T ,' , , . m [I, /V ^gSSSiSz state, with the cook down with mnuenza... and

I am only a Cowboy ; reckless, rough, m an uncenven- <ui fy- / i^^fesps^ „ T V______t__, ■ t\ ->__• i

tional suit of clothes; I t \ IBfe^ so I sup^se he s w««;W her by this time .

I hain't, as a rule, got much to say, and my conyersa- U W^wS^ S {excitedly).

tion is mostly oaths. I; P^^/^^L But hark ! in the distance a weird shrill cry, a kinder

[Cries of "Ssh .n' intended, however, for the I ^M^^A Wl&^ mournful, monotonous yelp—

people outside, who are chattering harder \ W Mmm' (Further trriiptwu of Society Chatter) ... is it

than ever. \X\ W / J11IF jackal ?-Dison r-a cry for help ?

"\Mien the cackle of females strikes my ear- ^^^^^7^/^^^^^^- Soc. Chat. Such a complete rest, you know—

Society Chatter (as before). Oh, much cooler ,fA\('|(\! 'Wf' so perfectly peaceful! Not a soul to talk to. I

here . . . Yes, delightful, wasn't it ? Everybody vlMM H *m I*™ it , . but, to really_ enjoy a tomato you

one knows ... No, you don't really '.. Oh, ^^m^' mMd - WW m"st see xt • • m the sweetest little

Popst's flourishing, thanks"".". The new Butler ^^^KS^^^^" sailor suit!

turned out a perfect demon . . . but I said I Mn l\ Miss F. B.

wouldn't have his tail docked for anything . . . 'Mz^W, IW !. My horse was a speck on the pampas' verge, for I

so they've painted it eau de Nil, and it looks w^^lff! % %,, ,/| ' dropped the rein in my haste to stoop;

so nice! w/^P^M ^ WM/l i\ Then I pressed my ear to the baking soil—and caught

Miss F. P. (pointedly). '^^IP^llV \ \ V — ah, horror—the Indian whoop !

"When the cackle of females strikes my ear, I jest WpyWw. ^ / \ Soc. Chat. Some sav it isn't infectious, but

vamose, for they make me skeered, J/M\K ^\ one can't be too careful, and, with children in

And I sorter suspicion I skecr them too, with mv ra i \«s V y ,1, i, i> „

. hulking form, and my bushy beard! ' ' ■ IB^-^ < S/™FB

[Here, of course, she strokes a very routid chin. / r! \V ~* & T ^ , -i • • 1 1

Society Chatter. Seems to be somethin' goin' __-'_J \ V ^ ^ , I R« to my feet with quivering knee, and m> face

• .1 * • ■ i 1 j • j „ Vi.- ' "Isitl \ a-nv^w A 1 ^tn turned white as a tresh-wasned to-\\el,

on m there-singm', actm', dancm , or somethin * <M <ll\ ,Kt. I had heard a war-cry I knew too well-'twas the

. . . Well of course, only heard her version of it x¥|| , . ./J v W «*D murderous band of"Blue-nosed Owl!

as vet, y' know . . . Have you seen him m . . . ^JMmSj' rX n \%\ x \, /f

white bensaline with a Medici collar, and one ::2=§|||$A/]<V 1 • Soc. Chat. Nice fellow—I'm very fond of him

of those . . . nasty gouty attacks he will have ~"^^^^^p^ —so fresh—capital company—met him when I

are only rheumatism, &c, &c. 7^ was over there, &c.

Miss F. B. (when next heard). "1 ;ira «aJj a Cowboy." Miss F. B.

I cleared my throat, and I tried to speak—but the words died strangled— I " What ? leave you to face those fiends alone ! " she cried, and slid from her

A Feminine Voice outside. So long since we had a quiet talk' horse's back;

together ! Do tell me all about, &c, &c

Miss F. B.--strangled by sheer alarm.

For there in front-

[Here she points dramatically at a stout matron, who fans herself
consciously.

-was the slender form, and the sweet girl-face of our new

" School Marm " ! [twangs?
Say, boys ! hev' ye heard an iEolian harp which a Zephyr's tremulous finger
Wa'al, It kinder thrills ye the way I felt when I first beheld Lobelia Bangs !

Soc. Chat. Oh, you really ought to go—so touching! Dick and I
both regularly howled all through the last Act . . . Not in the least,
thanks. Well, if there is a seat . . . You 're sure there are any ices ?

Let me die with you—for I love you, Clem ! " Then she gave her steed a
resounding smack,

And he bounded off; " Xow Heaven be praised that my school six-shooter I

brought ! " said she.
'•' Four barrels I'll keep for the front-rank foes—and the next for you—and

the last for me ! "

Soc. Chat. Is it a comic piece she's doing, do you know ? Don't
think so, I can see somebody smiling. Sounds rather like
Shakspeare, or Dickexs, or one of those fellahs . . . Didn t catch
what you said. No Quite impossible to hear oneself speak,
isn't it ?
Miss F. B.

Then, strawberry, please—no, nothing to drink ! . . . Witt you allow And ever louder the demons yelled for their pale-faced prey—but I scorned
me ? . . . Told she could dress hair perfectly, but I soon found she
was ... a Swedenborgian, my dear, or something horrid

Haven't you ? I've had it three times, and ... so many people
have asked me for cards that really I . . . had the drains thoroughly
looked to. and now they 're . . delicious, but rather overpowering in
a room, I think! &c, &e.

Miss F. B. (with genuine feeling).

"W'ho would imagine one meek-voiced girl could have held her own hi a
deafening din!

But Lobelia's scholars discovered soon she'd a dead-sure notion of discipline;

death's pangs,

For I deemed it a doom that was half delight to die by the hand oi Lobelia

Bangs! ' i .

Then she whispered low in her dulcet tones, like the crooning coo ot a cushat
dove!

(At the top of her voice). "Forgive me, Clem, but I could not bear any

squaw to torture my own true love ! "
And she raised the revolver—" crack-crack-crack '. "

[To the infinite chagrin of the Unsophisticated Guest, who is intensely
anxious to hear how Miss Bangs and her lover escaped from so