Punch: Punch (101.1891)

292

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [December 19, 1891.

. ^.«.,.i.r-.Aiiii^.iiirt Bob P. Hullo! You and I are being sat upon pretty heavily, Miss

THE TRAVELLING COMPANIONS. Trotter.

No. XIX. Miss T. I guess our Schoolmaster's abroad. But why Mr.

„ -rr , , , Culchard should want to make himself a train out of my coverlets,

Scexe—I he Tombs of the Scaligers at Verona. _ A seedy and j don't just see—he looks majestic enough without that.

voluble Cicerone, who has insisted upon volunteering his services, i [Culchard catches up a blanket which is trailing, and sags kid

is accompanying Miss Trotter, Bob Prexdergast, and Cm- I words under his-breafh,

chard. It is a warm afternoon, and Culchard, ivho has been \

intrusted with Miss T. 's recent purchases—two Italian blankets, At the Tomb of Juliet.

and a huge pot of hammered copper—is not in the most amiable j Culch. (who is gradually recovering his equanimity). Think of it!
of moods. the actual spot on which Borneo and Juliet—Shakspeare's Juliet—

The Cicerone (in polyglot). Ecco, Signore (pointing out the inter- drew their last breath ! Does it not realise the tragedy for you ?
laced ladders in the wrought-iron railings), l'echelle, la scala, c'est Miss T. Well, no—it's a disappointing tomb. 1 reckoned it
tout flexible—(He shakes the trellis)—molto, molto curioso ! would look less like a horse-trough. I should have expected Juliet's

Culch. (bitterly, to the other two). I warned you how it would be ! Poppa and Momma would want, considering all the facts of the case,
We shall have this sort of thing all the afternoon now .' to throw more style into her monument!

Miss T. Well, I don't mind; he's real polite and obliging—and Culch. (languidly). May not its very simplicity—er—attest the
that's something, anyway ! sincerity of their remorse ?

Culch. Polite and obliging! Now I ask you—has he given us the Miss T. Do you attach any particular meaning to that observation
slightest atom of valuable information yet ? now ? (Culchard bites his lip.) I notice this

Miss T. I guess he's too full of tact to . «v^Silt^ tomb is full of visiting cards—my! but ain't

wish to interfere with your special department ! that curious?

The Cic. (to Culchard. who looks another ^PIwl!&|P Culch. (instructively . It only shows that

way). Ici le tombeau di Giovanni della >p-, jff^,' ^BL. this place is not without its pathos and

Scala, Signore. Verri grazioso, molto mag- fc^^JBBr.^-.aB^ interest for most visitors, no matter what

niflque, joii conserve! (He skips up on the MjgBPP^^' their nationality may be. You don't feel

pedestal, and touches a sarcophagus.) Non ,^^lf ! J^^^B^I^' ft szt inclined yourself to-?

bronzo— verde-antique! ':<^V' v '' V^-'y*w ^ISS ^° ^eave a pasteboard? Why I

[ Xods at Culchard, with a beaming smile. ^SW^^Tm \ ^' \&> t Jr shouldn't sleep any all night, for fear she 'd

Culch. (with a growl . Ya bene, va bene— ■^■p^^fPfeTy- \ Wri Jf/ Jf return my call!

we know all about it! ff^^^A • '' I'- l/t^\t/$L Culch. (producing a note-book). It'sfanci-

Bob P. You may; but you mighl giv TMtm^irTr T>%\ %■tx^-^sf ful, perhaps—but, if you don't mind waiting

Miss Trotter and me a chance, you know! ^SEhBI* ---gP^.'''^m^fflis^' a ^ttle, ^ should like to contribute—not my

The Cic. Zees, Marmor di Carrara: zat, Wmj^''*>'' «IJ||P*^ card, but a sonnet. I feel one on its way.

Marmor di Yerona—Yerona marbre. Mar- Wtt W 2-^^li'mF J"' Better make sure the tomb';

tlxo Primo a fait batir. (Counting on . Jhr W' ' ' ~~ it-- genuine first, hadn't you? Some say it isn't,

fingers for Culchard's benefit. Quattuoi /EsP-j^'W^r'' w i Culm., exasperated). 1 knew you'd make

dichieme secolo—fotteen! It&KvC/'- i w ^ some matter-of-fact remark of that kind'

Culch. Will you kindly understand that I j Mg| There—it's no use! Let us go.

am quite capable of estimating the precise Mk^: "3jf ' l Hfc Miss T. Why, your sonnets seem as skeery

period of this sculpture for myself. ^^llrv-"' * f^F"---? 'as those lizards there ! I hope Juliet won't

The Cic. Si-si, Signore. Scultore Boxixo ^M§^ ^fC - ' • ever know what she's missed. But likely

da Campiglioxe. ( With a ivriggle of defe- v($l \ I % P ^011 ma^ those verses on to her later.

rential enthusiasm.) Bellissimo scultore! ]PV c \ \ ^X.i__^ [She and Bob P. pass on, laughing.

Miss T. He's got an idea you find him Miiil'% t\ -~ 1 . '- ^H^ - Culch. (following). She only affects this

vurry instructive, Mr. Culchard, and I j j tk- ~\ f - ' - - vulgar flippancy to torment me. If I didn't

guess, if you want to disabuse him, you'd w ;»;:/ ffc > !j - '; " .'• know that- There, I've left that infernal

better do it in Italian. TOM jp^ (' \ pot behind now!

Culch. I think my Italian is equal to con- u'W^I^-'- X - [Goes back for it, tvrathfally.

veying an impression that I can willingly lify$fe-ylr I f- s?\>'J' ■ r *i a i uz * -\r t^™™™^, .™

dispense with his society. {To the Cic.) An ' & / . " i In ^ ^rnphttheatre; Miss Prendergast

date via-do you understand ? An-da-te vh ' i * 1^ i ^ \ Podbuky, and ^ ax Boodeler, are seated

The (<ic. hurt, and surprised '. Ah.'s'ignore! fMMmB f" * ?' °" ^

[He breaks into a fervent vindication of his Tm' -'lWSi ( vVf^^' ' Q) Podb. (meditatively). I suppose they

value as guide, hilosopher, and friend. IF " jjtlll I- '"^ f I 1> f./ charged highest for the lowest seats. Wonder

Miss T. I guess he's endeavouring to R^-' i$jS$^'f/v ^ -J; \ l A whether a lion ever nipped up and helped

intimate that his wounded self-respect isn't • !\\ ■ "v-" himself to some fat old buffer in the Stalls

going to be healed under haff a dollar. And 8|| JfBhESBB&£& when the martyrs turned out a leaner lot

every red cen1 I had went on that old pot! -=^5gl|fe«F\ than usual!

Mr. Culi ecard, will you give him a couple of ^S^Big; • Van. B. There's an ingenuous modernity

francs for me ? about our friend's historical speculations that

Culch. I—er—really see no necessity. He's « BfelKssimo seidtere * " is highly refreshing^

done nothing whatever to deserve it! Miss P. There is, indeed—though he might

Bob P. (eagerly). May/, Miss Trotter? (Producing a ten-lire have spared himself and us the trouble of them if he had only
note.) This is the smallest change I've got. remembered that the podium was invariably protected by a railing.

Miss T. No, I guess ten francs would start him with more self- and occasionally by euripi, or trenches. You surely learnt that at
respect than he's got any use for. Mr. Culchard will give him school, Mr. Podbury ?

three — that's one apiece —to punish him for being so real Podb. 1—I daresay. Forgotten all I learnt at school, you know!
mean! Van. B. I should infer now, from that statement, that you

Cidch. (indignantly). Mean ? because I-! (He pays and dis- enioved the advantages of a pretty liberal education ?_

misses the Cic.) Now we can examine these monuments in peace— Podb. If that's meant to be cutting, I should save it up for that
thev are really—er—unique examples of the sepulchral pomp of novel of yours : it may seem smart—there !

Italian medkcvalism. Miss P. Really, Mr. Podbury, if you choose to resent a playful

Miss T. They're handsome tombs enough — but considerable remark in that manner, you had better go away.

cramped. I should have thought these old Scallywags would have Podb. Perhaps 1 had. (Bises, and moves off huffily). D-■ his

looked around for a roomier burying lot. (To Culchard, who playfulness! Ton my word, poor old Culchard was nothing to that
shivers.) You aren't feeling sick any ? beggar! And she backs him up ! But there—it's all part of my

Culch. No—only pained by such a travesty of a noble name, probation! (Here Culchard suddenly appears, laden with burdens.)
" Scallywags" for Scaligers seems to me, if I may say so, a very Hullo' are you moving, or -what?

cheap form of humour! Culch. I am merely carrying a few things for Miss Trottkr.

Miss T. Well, it's more than cheap—it isn't going to cost you a (Drops the copper pot, which bounds doicn into ihe arena.) Dash

cent, so I should think you'd appreciate it! the thing ! . . . [Returning with it.) It's natural that, in my position, I

Bob P. Haw—score for you, Miss Trotter ! should have these—er—privileges. (He trips over a blanket.) Conf-

Culch. I should have thought myself that mere personality is Have you happened to see Miss Trotter about, by the way ?

hardly enough to give point "to any repartee—there is a slight Podb. Fancy I saw her down below just now—with Bob. I expect

difference between brilliancy and—er—brutality ! they 'ye walking round under the arches.