DOI Heft:
April 30, 1892
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17693#0217
208
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [April 30, 1892.
TELEPHONIC THEATRE-GOERS.
[A Sketch at the Electrical Exhibition.)
Scene—The Exterior of the Telephone Music Room in the Egyptian
Vestibule, The time is about eight. A placard announces,
"Manchester Theatre now on "; inside the wickets a small crowd
is waiting for the door to be opened. A Cautious Man comes
up to the turnstile with the air of a fox examining a trap.
The Cautious Man [to the Commissionnaire). How long can I stay
in for sixpence ?
The Commissionnaire. Ten Minutes, Sir.
The C. M. Only ten minutes, eh ? But, look here, how do I know
there '11 be anything going on while I'm in there P
Comm. You '11 find out that from the instruments, Sir.
The C. M. Ah, I daresay—but what I mean is, suppose there's
nothing to hear—-between the Acts and all that ?
Comm. Comp'ny guarantees there's a performance on while you're
in the room. Sir.
The C. M. Yes, but all these other people waiting to get in—How'm
I to know I shall get a place f
Comm. [outraged). Look 'ere, Sir, we 're the National Telephone
Comp'ny with a reputation to lose, and if you've any ideer we want
to swindle you, all I can tell you is—stop outside!
The C. M. [suddenly subdued). Oh—er—all right, thought I'd
make sure first, you know. Sixpence, isn't it P
He passes into the enclosure, and joins the crowd,
Look alive with that Show o' yours, Guv'nor—we ain't got long to
stop ! [Pretends to listen, and reply.) If you give me any of your
cheek, I '11 come down and punch your 'ead! [Applies a tube to his
eye.) All right, Polly, they've begun—I can see the 'ero's legs!
Polly. Be quiet, can't you? I can't hold the tubes steady if you
will keep making me laugh so. [Listening.) Oh, Alp, I can hear
singing—can't you ? Isn't it lovely !
The Com. M. It seems to me there's a bluebottle, or something,
got inside mine—I can 'ear im !
The Irr. P. [angrily, to himself). How the deuce do they expect
—and that infernal organ in the nave has just started booming
again—they ought to send out and stop it!
The Chatty O. G. [touching his elbotv). I beg your pardon, Sir,
but can you inform me what opera it is they 're performing at Man-
chester P The Prima Donna seems to be just finishing a song.
Wonderful how one can hear it all!
The Irr. P. [snapping). Yery wonderful indeed, under the cir-
cumstances! [He corks both ears with the tubes.) It's too bad—
now there's a confounded string-band beginning outs- [Removes
the tube.) Eh, what? [More angrily than ever,,) Why, it's in the
blanked thing! [He fumbles with the tubes in trying to readjust
them. At last he succeeds, and, after listening intently, is rewarded
by hearing a muffled and ghostly voice, apparently from the bowels of
the earth, say—" Ha, say you so ? Then am I indeed the hooshiest
hearsher in the whole of Mumble-land! ")
The Chatty 0. G. [^nudging him). How very distinctly you hear
i the dialogue, Sir, don't you ?
A Comic Man [in an [The Irritable Person,
undertone to his [ without removing
Fiancee). That's a care- ^flB^fe. IfilllliSSsr ^w tubes, turns and
ful bloke, that is. HmH§^ IIBIm/ glares at him
Know the value o' mM^mf !■' IBrel§' savagely, without
money, he does. It'll ^^^^^^p/ Hm^SILx producing the
have to be a precious wk^PttrKlL ^*Ǥp?!|w) slightest impression.
scientific sort o' tele- ^mgB^^^^^lfe --^^^Kf^^&id^- Another Ghostly
phone that takes 'im in. / PwSfffi?'- 1 \ ' ^^^^^^^ffBB^^ Voice [vert/ audibly).
He'll 'ave Ms six- LAP^/^%i);b£^ 0S$%^Kh^*i\ The devil you are!
pennorth, if it bursts ^JkI^^W^SW^ ' ' JS^k^l^tsBS■ * A Careful Mother.
the machine! Hullo, _-/^f X^f^W^^^L ^&S>fp\ 'MhBP1' \ Minnie, put them down
they're letting us in /,, P x^^' ^^m^M^^— ^^m^J^^sl]^^^fflN(/ a* once, do you hear?
now. m£, , ■ffe^j&W^f, /wK jfm^y :""V i-^jng^^^ ^^mWllH^mH^^tmMiw^ I can't have youlisten-
[The door is slightly ' 'Spi§?y\ if^^^m^^z^^^&aHKffl in8'to such language.
opened from icithin, wKK/r'^^^k^^^^^^^' ' W^^^^^^^^m^ml/^U^B^Mk Minnie, Why, it's
causing an expectant gfillM^vS^ ^aB!v7/^^W^^^^^^^\ I JiwinlaHi^Wumm/ia^BU^Bmmi only at Manchester,
movement in crowd fflr& v mM&'/■ l^^SB^I^^^^^WwKl/m^^^^iSKMM Mother!
—the door is closed ^^0^fflf % C°'\ w/i/mP^^*>J#^X&^!§^|||HHGhostly Voices and
again. f ^^miMC^^^^^^^^W^:i;!i!_iPI8Bai^^—. VIUMiaK- . gounds (as t]iey reach
A Superior Young ._^____J*^?^^^^W^^^^^^~'^^gg^^^^^^^tr^-I^ll^*^^=^'.~?~ ,-" the Irritable Person).
Lady [to her Admirer), ''"^jp^-^^-^—^^^ ^ "You cursed scoun-
I just caught a glimpse - '""^^g^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^S^^^T. drel! So it was you
of the people inside. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^■■-^^(7f^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^urstled the oilli-
They were all sitting jfpip—"- -^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^jr^-^^-.-^^r=^^^^^^=^-'' ^ boom, was it P Stand
holding things like ■SS*&Z' f^^^^^^^^^^^^^B^Mi ^ t~ ~^S*TZ3' '^^^^^^^fer back, there, I'll hork
opera-glasses up to their ^^SSBSS^^^^^i^^^^^^^ every gordle in his
ears—they did look so « IIow distinctly you hear the dialogue, Sir. don't you ? " ! " (• • • Sou>u\s °f
ridiculous! ■" a scuffle . . . A loud
Her Admirer. Well, it's about time they gave us a chance of
looking ridiculous, their ten minutes must be up now. I've been
trying to think what this put me in mind of. I know. Waiting
outside the Pit doors ! doesn't it you ?
The Sup. Y. L. [languidly, for the benefit of the bystanders). Do
they make you wait like this for the Pit ?
Her Admirer. Do they make you wait! Why, weren't you and
I three-quarters of an hour getting into the Adelphi the other
evening P
The Sup. Y. L. [annoyed with Mm). I don't see any necessity to
bawl it out like that if we were.
[The discreetly curtained windows are thrown back, revealing
persons inside reluctantly tearing themselves away from
their telephones. As the door opens, there is a frantic rush
to get places.
An Attendant [soothingly). Don't crash, Ladies and Gentlemen—
plenty of room for all. Take your time !
[The crowd stream in, and pounce eagerly on chairs and telephones ;
the usual Fussy Family waste precious minutes in trying to get
seats together, and get separated in the end. Undecided persons loved!"
female scream, and firing . . .) " What have you done ? "
The Ch. 0. G. Have you any sort of idea what he has done, Sir ?
[To the Irritable Person.
The Irr. P. No, Sir, and I'm not likely to have as long as--■
[He listens with fierce determination.
First Ghostly Voice. Stop! Hear me—I can explain everything !
Second Do. Do. I will hear nothing, I tell you !
First Do. Do. You shall—you must! Listen. I am the only
surviving mumble of your unshle groolier.
The Ch. O. G. [as before). I think it must be a Melodrama and
not an Opera after all—from the language !
An Innocent Matron [who is listening, with her eyes devoutly
fixed on the Libretto of11 The Mountebanks," under the firm con-
viction that she is in direct communication with the Lyric Theatre. I
always understood The Mountebanks was a musical piece, my dear,
didn't you P and even as it is, they don't seem to keep very close to
the words, as far as I can follow !
Ghostly Voices [in the Irritable Person's ear as before). "Your
wife ?" " Yes, my wife, and the only woman in the world I ever
flit from one side to another. Gradually they all settle down,
and stop their ears with the telephone-tubes, the prevailing
expression being one of anxiety, combined with conscious and
apologetic imbecility. Nervous people catch the eye of complete
strangers across the table, and are seized tvith suppressed giggles.
An Irritable Person finds himself between the Comic Man and a
Chatty Old Gentleman.
The Comic Man [to his Fiancee, putting the tube to his ear). Can't
get my telephone to tork yet! [Shakes iL) I'll wake 'em up!
[Puts the other tube to his mouth.) Hallo—hallo! are you there?
The Irr. P. [pleased, to himself). Come, now I'm getting
accustomed to it, 1 can hear capitally!
The Voices. Then why have you-? . . . I will tell you all.
Twenty-five years ago, when a shinder foodie in the Borjeezlers I-
A Still Small Voice [in everybody's ear), time, please.
Everybody [dropping the tubes, startled). Where did that come
from ?
The Com. M. They've been and cut it off at the main—just when
it was getting interesting!
His Fiancee. Well, I can't say I made out much of the plot myself.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [April 30, 1892.
TELEPHONIC THEATRE-GOERS.
[A Sketch at the Electrical Exhibition.)
Scene—The Exterior of the Telephone Music Room in the Egyptian
Vestibule, The time is about eight. A placard announces,
"Manchester Theatre now on "; inside the wickets a small crowd
is waiting for the door to be opened. A Cautious Man comes
up to the turnstile with the air of a fox examining a trap.
The Cautious Man [to the Commissionnaire). How long can I stay
in for sixpence ?
The Commissionnaire. Ten Minutes, Sir.
The C. M. Only ten minutes, eh ? But, look here, how do I know
there '11 be anything going on while I'm in there P
Comm. You '11 find out that from the instruments, Sir.
The C. M. Ah, I daresay—but what I mean is, suppose there's
nothing to hear—-between the Acts and all that ?
Comm. Comp'ny guarantees there's a performance on while you're
in the room. Sir.
The C. M. Yes, but all these other people waiting to get in—How'm
I to know I shall get a place f
Comm. [outraged). Look 'ere, Sir, we 're the National Telephone
Comp'ny with a reputation to lose, and if you've any ideer we want
to swindle you, all I can tell you is—stop outside!
The C. M. [suddenly subdued). Oh—er—all right, thought I'd
make sure first, you know. Sixpence, isn't it P
He passes into the enclosure, and joins the crowd,
Look alive with that Show o' yours, Guv'nor—we ain't got long to
stop ! [Pretends to listen, and reply.) If you give me any of your
cheek, I '11 come down and punch your 'ead! [Applies a tube to his
eye.) All right, Polly, they've begun—I can see the 'ero's legs!
Polly. Be quiet, can't you? I can't hold the tubes steady if you
will keep making me laugh so. [Listening.) Oh, Alp, I can hear
singing—can't you ? Isn't it lovely !
The Com. M. It seems to me there's a bluebottle, or something,
got inside mine—I can 'ear im !
The Irr. P. [angrily, to himself). How the deuce do they expect
—and that infernal organ in the nave has just started booming
again—they ought to send out and stop it!
The Chatty O. G. [touching his elbotv). I beg your pardon, Sir,
but can you inform me what opera it is they 're performing at Man-
chester P The Prima Donna seems to be just finishing a song.
Wonderful how one can hear it all!
The Irr. P. [snapping). Yery wonderful indeed, under the cir-
cumstances! [He corks both ears with the tubes.) It's too bad—
now there's a confounded string-band beginning outs- [Removes
the tube.) Eh, what? [More angrily than ever,,) Why, it's in the
blanked thing! [He fumbles with the tubes in trying to readjust
them. At last he succeeds, and, after listening intently, is rewarded
by hearing a muffled and ghostly voice, apparently from the bowels of
the earth, say—" Ha, say you so ? Then am I indeed the hooshiest
hearsher in the whole of Mumble-land! ")
The Chatty 0. G. [^nudging him). How very distinctly you hear
i the dialogue, Sir, don't you ?
A Comic Man [in an [The Irritable Person,
undertone to his [ without removing
Fiancee). That's a care- ^flB^fe. IfilllliSSsr ^w tubes, turns and
ful bloke, that is. HmH§^ IIBIm/ glares at him
Know the value o' mM^mf !■' IBrel§' savagely, without
money, he does. It'll ^^^^^^p/ Hm^SILx producing the
have to be a precious wk^PttrKlL ^*Ǥp?!|w) slightest impression.
scientific sort o' tele- ^mgB^^^^^lfe --^^^Kf^^&id^- Another Ghostly
phone that takes 'im in. / PwSfffi?'- 1 \ ' ^^^^^^^ffBB^^ Voice [vert/ audibly).
He'll 'ave Ms six- LAP^/^%i);b£^ 0S$%^Kh^*i\ The devil you are!
pennorth, if it bursts ^JkI^^W^SW^ ' ' JS^k^l^tsBS■ * A Careful Mother.
the machine! Hullo, _-/^f X^f^W^^^L ^&S>fp\ 'MhBP1' \ Minnie, put them down
they're letting us in /,, P x^^' ^^m^M^^— ^^m^J^^sl]^^^fflN(/ a* once, do you hear?
now. m£, , ■ffe^j&W^f, /wK jfm^y :""V i-^jng^^^ ^^mWllH^mH^^tmMiw^ I can't have youlisten-
[The door is slightly ' 'Spi§?y\ if^^^m^^z^^^&aHKffl in8'to such language.
opened from icithin, wKK/r'^^^k^^^^^^^' ' W^^^^^^^^m^ml/^U^B^Mk Minnie, Why, it's
causing an expectant gfillM^vS^ ^aB!v7/^^W^^^^^^^\ I JiwinlaHi^Wumm/ia^BU^Bmmi only at Manchester,
movement in crowd fflr& v mM&'/■ l^^SB^I^^^^^WwKl/m^^^^iSKMM Mother!
—the door is closed ^^0^fflf % C°'\ w/i/mP^^*>J#^X&^!§^|||HHGhostly Voices and
again. f ^^miMC^^^^^^^^W^:i;!i!_iPI8Bai^^—. VIUMiaK- . gounds (as t]iey reach
A Superior Young ._^____J*^?^^^^W^^^^^^~'^^gg^^^^^^^tr^-I^ll^*^^=^'.~?~ ,-" the Irritable Person).
Lady [to her Admirer), ''"^jp^-^^-^—^^^ ^ "You cursed scoun-
I just caught a glimpse - '""^^g^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^S^^^T. drel! So it was you
of the people inside. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^■■-^^(7f^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^urstled the oilli-
They were all sitting jfpip—"- -^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^jr^-^^-.-^^r=^^^^^^=^-'' ^ boom, was it P Stand
holding things like ■SS*&Z' f^^^^^^^^^^^^^B^Mi ^ t~ ~^S*TZ3' '^^^^^^^fer back, there, I'll hork
opera-glasses up to their ^^SSBSS^^^^^i^^^^^^^ every gordle in his
ears—they did look so « IIow distinctly you hear the dialogue, Sir. don't you ? " ! " (• • • Sou>u\s °f
ridiculous! ■" a scuffle . . . A loud
Her Admirer. Well, it's about time they gave us a chance of
looking ridiculous, their ten minutes must be up now. I've been
trying to think what this put me in mind of. I know. Waiting
outside the Pit doors ! doesn't it you ?
The Sup. Y. L. [languidly, for the benefit of the bystanders). Do
they make you wait like this for the Pit ?
Her Admirer. Do they make you wait! Why, weren't you and
I three-quarters of an hour getting into the Adelphi the other
evening P
The Sup. Y. L. [annoyed with Mm). I don't see any necessity to
bawl it out like that if we were.
[The discreetly curtained windows are thrown back, revealing
persons inside reluctantly tearing themselves away from
their telephones. As the door opens, there is a frantic rush
to get places.
An Attendant [soothingly). Don't crash, Ladies and Gentlemen—
plenty of room for all. Take your time !
[The crowd stream in, and pounce eagerly on chairs and telephones ;
the usual Fussy Family waste precious minutes in trying to get
seats together, and get separated in the end. Undecided persons loved!"
female scream, and firing . . .) " What have you done ? "
The Ch. 0. G. Have you any sort of idea what he has done, Sir ?
[To the Irritable Person.
The Irr. P. No, Sir, and I'm not likely to have as long as--■
[He listens with fierce determination.
First Ghostly Voice. Stop! Hear me—I can explain everything !
Second Do. Do. I will hear nothing, I tell you !
First Do. Do. You shall—you must! Listen. I am the only
surviving mumble of your unshle groolier.
The Ch. O. G. [as before). I think it must be a Melodrama and
not an Opera after all—from the language !
An Innocent Matron [who is listening, with her eyes devoutly
fixed on the Libretto of11 The Mountebanks," under the firm con-
viction that she is in direct communication with the Lyric Theatre. I
always understood The Mountebanks was a musical piece, my dear,
didn't you P and even as it is, they don't seem to keep very close to
the words, as far as I can follow !
Ghostly Voices [in the Irritable Person's ear as before). "Your
wife ?" " Yes, my wife, and the only woman in the world I ever
flit from one side to another. Gradually they all settle down,
and stop their ears with the telephone-tubes, the prevailing
expression being one of anxiety, combined with conscious and
apologetic imbecility. Nervous people catch the eye of complete
strangers across the table, and are seized tvith suppressed giggles.
An Irritable Person finds himself between the Comic Man and a
Chatty Old Gentleman.
The Comic Man [to his Fiancee, putting the tube to his ear). Can't
get my telephone to tork yet! [Shakes iL) I'll wake 'em up!
[Puts the other tube to his mouth.) Hallo—hallo! are you there?
The Irr. P. [pleased, to himself). Come, now I'm getting
accustomed to it, 1 can hear capitally!
The Voices. Then why have you-? . . . I will tell you all.
Twenty-five years ago, when a shinder foodie in the Borjeezlers I-
A Still Small Voice [in everybody's ear), time, please.
Everybody [dropping the tubes, startled). Where did that come
from ?
The Com. M. They've been and cut it off at the main—just when
it was getting interesting!
His Fiancee. Well, I can't say I made out much of the plot myself.