DOI issue:
June 25, 1892
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17693#0313
304
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[June 25, 1892.
ADVANTAGES OF MARSUPIALISM.
" I'm so tired, Mummy. I wish you were a Kangaroo 1"
"Why, Darling?"
"to carry me home in your pocket !"
AN EABI/S COURT IDYL.
Scene—A knick-knack stall outside theWild West Arena. Behind
the counter is a pretty and pert maiden of seventeen or so. A tall
and stately Indian Warrior, wrapped in a blue blanket, lounges
up, and leans against the corner, silent and inscrutable.
The Maiden {with easy familiarity). 'Ullo, Choc'lit, what do
you want ? [The Chieftain smiles at her with infinite subtlety, and
fingers a small fancy article shaped like a bottle, in seeming con-
fusion.) Like to see what's inside of itP Look'ere then. {She
removes the cork, touches a spring, and a paper fan expands out
of the neck of the bottle ; Chocolate is grimly pleased, and possibly
impressed, by this phenomenon, which he repeats severed times for his
own satisfaction.) Ah, that fetches you, don't it, Choc'lit? {The
Warrior nods, and says something unintelligible in his own tongue.)
Why don't yer talk sense, 'stead o' that rubbish ?
[Chocolate watches her slyly out of the corners of his eyes;
presently he puts the bottled-fan inside his blanket, and
slouches off in a fit of pretended abstraction.
The Maiden {imperiously). 'Ere, come back, will yer? Walkin'
off with my things like that! Fetch it 'ere—d'jear what I tell yer ?
(Chocolate lounges over the counter of an adjoining Bovril stall, and
affects a bland unconsciousness of being addressed. After aivhile he
peeps round and pats his blanket "knowingly, and, finding she takes
no further notice of him, lounges back to his corner again.) Oh, 'ere
you are again ! Now jest you put that bottle back. {The Warrior
giggles, with much appreciation of his oivn playfulness.) Look sharp
now. I know you've got it!
Chocolate {with another giggle). Me no got.
[He intimates that the person at the Bovril stall has it.
The Maiden. You needn't think to get over Me that way! It's
yer ! {CuocoijATE produces it chuckling, after which he loses all further
interest in it, his notice having been attracted by a small painted metal
monkey holding a miniature cup and saucer.) Want to buy one o'
them monkeys? {She sets its head nodding at the Indian, who is
gravely interested in this product of European civilisation.) All
right, pay for it then—they 're ninepence each.
[The Warrior plays with it thoughtfully, apparently in the faint
hope that she may be induced to make him a present of it,
but, finding that her heart shows no sign of softening to
such an extent, the desire of acquiring the monkey becomes
so irresistible that, a fter much diving into his robes, he fishes
up three coppers, which he tenders as a reasonable ransom.
The Maiden {encouragingly). That's all right, so far as it goes;
you've on'y got to give me another sixpence—twice as much as that,
you know. Come on ! (Chocolate meditates whether as an econo-
mical Indian Chieftain, he can afford this outlay, and finally shakes
his head sadly, and withdraws the coppers.) Oh, very well, then ;
please yourself, I'm sure! (Chocolate's small black eyes regard
her admiringly, as he tries one last persuasive smile, probably to
express the degree to which the possession of a nodding monkey would
brighten his existence.) It ain't a bit o' good, Choc'lit, I can't
lower my price for you; and what's more, I'm not going to !
[Chocolate examines the monkey once more undecidedly, then
puts it gently down with a wistful reluctance, and drfts off.
The Maiden {calling after him). You like to do your shoppin'
cheap, don't you, Choc'lit ? Everythink for nothen' is what you
want, ain't it ? J know yer !
[The Warrior stalks on impassively, ignoring these gibes;
whether he is reflecting on the beauty and heartlessyiess of
the Pale-face Maiden, or resolving to save up for the monkey
if it takes him a lifetime, or thinking of something else
totally different, or of nothing whatever, is a dark secret
which he keeps to himself.
THE PLAYFUL SALLY.
0 Sarah B.! 0 Mr. Abbey! What un-Abbey thought induced
you to select so dreary a play as Pauline Blanchard wherewith to
weary theBritish Public ? And what a finish! Pauline, all for the sake
of her disappointed lover, kills her'husband with a sickle !—a sickle-ly
sight—and then reaps herreward. M.Peron,
the Maire, was effec- tive. Ancient Ange-
lina, Mme. Gilberts Fleury, " fetched"
everybody, and in her %iM) turn was fetched by
M. Fleury from a loft \JcV where stage - business
had taken her in the ^J1P\!W previous Act, in order
" How Abbey could I be with either ! "
to receive her share of the plaudits, We hear that Sarah has accepted
a One-Act piece called Salammbo, by Oscar Wilde. Naturally we
all see Sarah in the first part of Sal. Perhaps the " umbo " means
Sarah and Oscar. Being an Eastern subject, Sarah sees the chance
in it of a Sara-scenic success. On Saturday last, with her wonderful
La Tosca in the afternoon, and her Dame aux Camelias (the
" O'Camelias" sounds like an Irish title) at night, Sarah regularly
"knocked them" in the Shaftesbury Avenue. No one interested in
dramatic art should" miss seeing Sarah, at all events, in La Dame
aux Camelias.
Particular and General Relationship.— Mr. George Curzon,
as the Saturday Review remarks in its notice of Curzon's Persia,
"is not the first of his family who has written a good book of
Eastern travel." The author, then, is not a first, but a second, or
third Curzon, and this particular work of authorship creates a new
inside o' that old blanket o' yours, Out with it now, or I 'll make | kinship, as his travels are, now, related to the public.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
[June 25, 1892.
ADVANTAGES OF MARSUPIALISM.
" I'm so tired, Mummy. I wish you were a Kangaroo 1"
"Why, Darling?"
"to carry me home in your pocket !"
AN EABI/S COURT IDYL.
Scene—A knick-knack stall outside theWild West Arena. Behind
the counter is a pretty and pert maiden of seventeen or so. A tall
and stately Indian Warrior, wrapped in a blue blanket, lounges
up, and leans against the corner, silent and inscrutable.
The Maiden {with easy familiarity). 'Ullo, Choc'lit, what do
you want ? [The Chieftain smiles at her with infinite subtlety, and
fingers a small fancy article shaped like a bottle, in seeming con-
fusion.) Like to see what's inside of itP Look'ere then. {She
removes the cork, touches a spring, and a paper fan expands out
of the neck of the bottle ; Chocolate is grimly pleased, and possibly
impressed, by this phenomenon, which he repeats severed times for his
own satisfaction.) Ah, that fetches you, don't it, Choc'lit? {The
Warrior nods, and says something unintelligible in his own tongue.)
Why don't yer talk sense, 'stead o' that rubbish ?
[Chocolate watches her slyly out of the corners of his eyes;
presently he puts the bottled-fan inside his blanket, and
slouches off in a fit of pretended abstraction.
The Maiden {imperiously). 'Ere, come back, will yer? Walkin'
off with my things like that! Fetch it 'ere—d'jear what I tell yer ?
(Chocolate lounges over the counter of an adjoining Bovril stall, and
affects a bland unconsciousness of being addressed. After aivhile he
peeps round and pats his blanket "knowingly, and, finding she takes
no further notice of him, lounges back to his corner again.) Oh, 'ere
you are again ! Now jest you put that bottle back. {The Warrior
giggles, with much appreciation of his oivn playfulness.) Look sharp
now. I know you've got it!
Chocolate {with another giggle). Me no got.
[He intimates that the person at the Bovril stall has it.
The Maiden. You needn't think to get over Me that way! It's
yer ! {CuocoijATE produces it chuckling, after which he loses all further
interest in it, his notice having been attracted by a small painted metal
monkey holding a miniature cup and saucer.) Want to buy one o'
them monkeys? {She sets its head nodding at the Indian, who is
gravely interested in this product of European civilisation.) All
right, pay for it then—they 're ninepence each.
[The Warrior plays with it thoughtfully, apparently in the faint
hope that she may be induced to make him a present of it,
but, finding that her heart shows no sign of softening to
such an extent, the desire of acquiring the monkey becomes
so irresistible that, a fter much diving into his robes, he fishes
up three coppers, which he tenders as a reasonable ransom.
The Maiden {encouragingly). That's all right, so far as it goes;
you've on'y got to give me another sixpence—twice as much as that,
you know. Come on ! (Chocolate meditates whether as an econo-
mical Indian Chieftain, he can afford this outlay, and finally shakes
his head sadly, and withdraws the coppers.) Oh, very well, then ;
please yourself, I'm sure! (Chocolate's small black eyes regard
her admiringly, as he tries one last persuasive smile, probably to
express the degree to which the possession of a nodding monkey would
brighten his existence.) It ain't a bit o' good, Choc'lit, I can't
lower my price for you; and what's more, I'm not going to !
[Chocolate examines the monkey once more undecidedly, then
puts it gently down with a wistful reluctance, and drfts off.
The Maiden {calling after him). You like to do your shoppin'
cheap, don't you, Choc'lit ? Everythink for nothen' is what you
want, ain't it ? J know yer !
[The Warrior stalks on impassively, ignoring these gibes;
whether he is reflecting on the beauty and heartlessyiess of
the Pale-face Maiden, or resolving to save up for the monkey
if it takes him a lifetime, or thinking of something else
totally different, or of nothing whatever, is a dark secret
which he keeps to himself.
THE PLAYFUL SALLY.
0 Sarah B.! 0 Mr. Abbey! What un-Abbey thought induced
you to select so dreary a play as Pauline Blanchard wherewith to
weary theBritish Public ? And what a finish! Pauline, all for the sake
of her disappointed lover, kills her'husband with a sickle !—a sickle-ly
sight—and then reaps herreward. M.Peron,
the Maire, was effec- tive. Ancient Ange-
lina, Mme. Gilberts Fleury, " fetched"
everybody, and in her %iM) turn was fetched by
M. Fleury from a loft \JcV where stage - business
had taken her in the ^J1P\!W previous Act, in order
" How Abbey could I be with either ! "
to receive her share of the plaudits, We hear that Sarah has accepted
a One-Act piece called Salammbo, by Oscar Wilde. Naturally we
all see Sarah in the first part of Sal. Perhaps the " umbo " means
Sarah and Oscar. Being an Eastern subject, Sarah sees the chance
in it of a Sara-scenic success. On Saturday last, with her wonderful
La Tosca in the afternoon, and her Dame aux Camelias (the
" O'Camelias" sounds like an Irish title) at night, Sarah regularly
"knocked them" in the Shaftesbury Avenue. No one interested in
dramatic art should" miss seeing Sarah, at all events, in La Dame
aux Camelias.
Particular and General Relationship.— Mr. George Curzon,
as the Saturday Review remarks in its notice of Curzon's Persia,
"is not the first of his family who has written a good book of
Eastern travel." The author, then, is not a first, but a second, or
third Curzon, and this particular work of authorship creates a new
inside o' that old blanket o' yours, Out with it now, or I 'll make | kinship, as his travels are, now, related to the public.