DOI Heft:
April 30, 1892
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17693#0223
214
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[April 30, 1892.
UNDERSTOOD."
Wit. I did, my Lord—after I had obtained a uniform fitting
closely to the figure; but it was only that I might obtain the
blessing of my mother I And when I returned home the soldiers
followed me—and might have killed me !
Chair. How was that ?
Wit. "When I had taken refuge in a haystack, they prodded the
haystack with their swords ! And this is life in the Army !
Chair. Were you arrested on discovery ?
Wit. No; they spared me that indignity! They saw, my Lord,
that my mother was dying, and respectfully fell back while I
assisted the old Lady to pass away peacefully. But then, after all,
they were men. In spite of their red patrol jackets, brass helmets,
and no spurs, they were men, my Lord,—men ! And, as soldiers,
after I had broken from prison, and was accused of murder, they
again released me, because some one promised to bay my discharge !
Chair. And where are you quartered ?
Wit. At the Royal Princess's Theatre, Oxford Street, where I
have these strange experiences of discipline, and where I am enlisted
in the unconventional, not to say illegal, way I have described,
nightly ; nay, sometimes twice daily !
Chair. And why have you proffered your evidence ?
Wit. Because I think the Public ought to know, my Lord, the
great services afforded by the most recent Melodrama to the popu-
larity of the Army, and—yes, the cause of recruiting !
[The Witness then withdrew.
"I say, Dubois, you do know how to lay it on thick, Old
Man I I like your cheek telling Miss Brown she spoke French
without the least accent ! "
" Vy, certainement, mon Ami—vizout ze least Frexoh Accent !"
" THE (SOLDIERS') LITE WE LIVE."
{Imaginary Evidence that should le added to the Report of Lord
Wantage's Committee.)
Chairman. I think your name is Richard Redmond ?
Witness. I beg pardon, my Lord and Gentlemen—Dick Redmond
—simple, gushing, explosive Dick.
Chair. Have you been known by any other name ?
Wit. Off duty, my Lord, I have been called Charles Warner.
Nay, why should I not confess it ?—Charlie Warner. Yes, my
Lord, Charlie Warner !
Chair. You wish to describe how you were enlisted ?
Wit. Yes, my Lord. It was in this way. I had returned from
some races in a dog-cart with a villain. We stopped at a wayside
public-house kept by a comic Irishman.
Chair. Are these details necessary ?
Wit. Hear me, my Lord; hear me ! I confess it, I took too much
to drink. Yes, my Lord, I was drunk ! And then a Sergeant in 1
the Dragoon Guards gave me a shilling, and placed some ribands
in my pot-hat, and—well—I was a soldier! Yes, a soldier! And as
a soldier was refused permission to visit my dying mother !
Chair. Were there no other legal formalities in connection with
your enlistment? For instance—Were you not taken before an
attesting Magistrate ?
Wit. No, my Lord, no! I was carried off protesting, while my
villanous friend disappeared with my sweetheart ! It was cruel,
HOW THEY BRING THE GOOD NEWS !
All the papers teeming I And, verbatim printed
With the news of Deeming All he's said or hinted
On the shore or ship; As to any deeds ;
Telling of his tearing > Such a chance as this is
Hair that he was wearing j Not a paper misses !
From his upper lip. Everybody reads I
(T-ss-d, rush! Pursue it! \ Would they give such latest
Buy it, bring it, glue it ; News of best and greatest
On your model! Quick!) Folks ? What's that you say !
Telling how he's looking, Who would read of virtue,
How he likes the cooking.— Or such news insert ? You
Bah, it makes one sick I Know it would not pay.
Telling of his bearing, ! So, demand creating
How the crowds are staring, Such supply, they 're stating
What may be his fate, All that they can tell;
Just what clothes he wore the Spite of School-Board teaching,
Days he came before the Culture, science, preaching,
Local Magistrate. ' This is sure to sell.
mJclair. D?dyeofdeeS? K was Yer?crutl! | THE END OF THE SEASON. AU REVOIR!
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[April 30, 1892.
UNDERSTOOD."
Wit. I did, my Lord—after I had obtained a uniform fitting
closely to the figure; but it was only that I might obtain the
blessing of my mother I And when I returned home the soldiers
followed me—and might have killed me !
Chair. How was that ?
Wit. "When I had taken refuge in a haystack, they prodded the
haystack with their swords ! And this is life in the Army !
Chair. Were you arrested on discovery ?
Wit. No; they spared me that indignity! They saw, my Lord,
that my mother was dying, and respectfully fell back while I
assisted the old Lady to pass away peacefully. But then, after all,
they were men. In spite of their red patrol jackets, brass helmets,
and no spurs, they were men, my Lord,—men ! And, as soldiers,
after I had broken from prison, and was accused of murder, they
again released me, because some one promised to bay my discharge !
Chair. And where are you quartered ?
Wit. At the Royal Princess's Theatre, Oxford Street, where I
have these strange experiences of discipline, and where I am enlisted
in the unconventional, not to say illegal, way I have described,
nightly ; nay, sometimes twice daily !
Chair. And why have you proffered your evidence ?
Wit. Because I think the Public ought to know, my Lord, the
great services afforded by the most recent Melodrama to the popu-
larity of the Army, and—yes, the cause of recruiting !
[The Witness then withdrew.
"I say, Dubois, you do know how to lay it on thick, Old
Man I I like your cheek telling Miss Brown she spoke French
without the least accent ! "
" Vy, certainement, mon Ami—vizout ze least Frexoh Accent !"
" THE (SOLDIERS') LITE WE LIVE."
{Imaginary Evidence that should le added to the Report of Lord
Wantage's Committee.)
Chairman. I think your name is Richard Redmond ?
Witness. I beg pardon, my Lord and Gentlemen—Dick Redmond
—simple, gushing, explosive Dick.
Chair. Have you been known by any other name ?
Wit. Off duty, my Lord, I have been called Charles Warner.
Nay, why should I not confess it ?—Charlie Warner. Yes, my
Lord, Charlie Warner !
Chair. You wish to describe how you were enlisted ?
Wit. Yes, my Lord. It was in this way. I had returned from
some races in a dog-cart with a villain. We stopped at a wayside
public-house kept by a comic Irishman.
Chair. Are these details necessary ?
Wit. Hear me, my Lord; hear me ! I confess it, I took too much
to drink. Yes, my Lord, I was drunk ! And then a Sergeant in 1
the Dragoon Guards gave me a shilling, and placed some ribands
in my pot-hat, and—well—I was a soldier! Yes, a soldier! And as
a soldier was refused permission to visit my dying mother !
Chair. Were there no other legal formalities in connection with
your enlistment? For instance—Were you not taken before an
attesting Magistrate ?
Wit. No, my Lord, no! I was carried off protesting, while my
villanous friend disappeared with my sweetheart ! It was cruel,
HOW THEY BRING THE GOOD NEWS !
All the papers teeming I And, verbatim printed
With the news of Deeming All he's said or hinted
On the shore or ship; As to any deeds ;
Telling of his tearing > Such a chance as this is
Hair that he was wearing j Not a paper misses !
From his upper lip. Everybody reads I
(T-ss-d, rush! Pursue it! \ Would they give such latest
Buy it, bring it, glue it ; News of best and greatest
On your model! Quick!) Folks ? What's that you say !
Telling how he's looking, Who would read of virtue,
How he likes the cooking.— Or such news insert ? You
Bah, it makes one sick I Know it would not pay.
Telling of his bearing, ! So, demand creating
How the crowds are staring, Such supply, they 're stating
What may be his fate, All that they can tell;
Just what clothes he wore the Spite of School-Board teaching,
Days he came before the Culture, science, preaching,
Local Magistrate. ' This is sure to sell.
mJclair. D?dyeofdeeS? K was Yer?crutl! | THE END OF THE SEASON. AU REVOIR!