DOI issue:
November 12, 1892
DOI Page / Citation link: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17694#0233
228 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [November 12, 1892.
OPERA-GOERS' DIARY.
Covent Garden, Tuesday, Nov. 1st.—Tristan und Isolde. About
the dullest thing that even a much-enduring Wagnerite ever heard.
Glass down to zero.
Our Critic at The Opera.
He heareth Tristan
und Isolde wrapt in
slumber.
He seeth and heareth
A'ida, " More power
to your Melba ! "
He heareth Caval-
leria Rusticana
rapt in ecstasy.
Wednesday.—Glass up again. Orfeo with the two Ravogli and
the marvellous Bauermeister as Cupid. Wonderful little lady
BAUERMEiSTER-singer ! I 've said it before, and I repeat it emphati-
cally, Bauermeister is "a little treasure" to an Operatic Manager.
Mascagni's Cavalleria Rusticana was the second course to-night,
in which this adaptable lady, the Cupid of the first piece, appeared as
old heart-broken grey-haired lucia, the mother of the gay Turiddu.
Were Sir Augustus inclined to introduce a little light English
jocosity into this serious Opera, he might give a line to the im-
placable Alfio, saying, "I've come to rid you of Turiddu!" If
Mascagni had heard this, he would have composed an additional
Intermezzo expressing the whole force of the idea.
Thursday .—Carmen expected, but tenor off colour, so change of
air (or should say airs) recommended, and adopted. Audience sent
to the countrv, or, rather, Rusticana brought to them.
Friday.—House crammed. Great excitement to hear Melba as
A'ida, the darky girl. Everybody delighted, except perhaps Melba
herself, who, on seeing the bouquets, must
have murmured, " Trop de fleurs'J'" Every-
body good. Quite the best night of the
Season. To-night Bauermeister appears as
Sacerdotessa. So this week she has been
Cupid, an old Peasant Woman, Frasquita, a
Brigand's Youn» Woman ; and then, being
repentant, she finishes as a Priestess ! It's a
whole life-time in a few days.
Punch, who was "wonderful good "—(it was just the time when she
did blunder on to a winner)—and I made up my mind to follow the
new Prophet Daniel ; but, by Jove ! it resulted in a loss, and Daniel
landed me among the lions in no time! These are not jokes, but sober
facts—I plunged heavily on ail the " Selections," and am now in the
pleasant position of owing the Ring a substantial sum in addition to
"the old," through following My Wife's advice—whilst her banking-
account is considerably augmented through having laid against her
own tips ! This may be humorous, but as 1 said, I don't approve of
humour when exercised on myself !
I laughed most consumedly at some of her articles, but on looking
them over again—(she has kept the lot, pasted in a book—a monu-
ment to my fatuity !)—I don't think so much of them now I know
she wrote them, and see that I could have made numberless valuable
suggestions had she only seen fit to consult me ! Of course I could
stop any further contribution on her part, but consideration for your
readers (?) prevents that—to say nothing of her determination to
continue—so I have therefore consented to her odd whim, on the
condition that in future I " edit" her contributions ;—I need hardly
assure you that I shall confine my " editing " strictly to these limits,
and that your own Editor need be under no apprehension as to my
usurping his place,—ably as I should, no doubt, fill it!
My Wife begs me to follow her example, and concludeVith a verse
—(I don't know where she picked up such a bad habit)—but—while
bowing to her wishes—(I am always polite)—to a certain extent, I
absolutely decline to make the verse other than blank !
Believe me, Yours obediently,
Charles Pomperson (Bart.).
Journalistic Selection.
must confess that if compelled
To write for any Journal,
I should prefer as a matter of
To write for Punch ! [choice
[On a slip of paper found in Sir Charles's envelope, we have the
following from our valued contributress—[Ed.]:—"'Dear Mr.
Punch,—I am too upset to write—you shall hear from me next
week. Yours as devotedly as ever,—Lady Gay."]
Anecdotage.—Mr. Punch one day was reading aloud from a book
of anecdotes when Mr. Weedon Grossmith was present. " What
rot! " observed the representative of Lord Arthur Pomeroy. And
Mr. Punch agreed with him.
LADY GAY'S DETECTION.
Mr. Punch, Sir, Berkeley Square, W.
I am surprised to find a Journal of your
standing lowering itself to follow the example
of the so-called "Society Journals" by in-
serting contributions from women !—I have
discovered, no matter how, that My Wife,
who always declares she hates letter-writing,
has for mon'hs past contributed a long
weekly letter to Punch, dealing with racing
from a humorous (save the mark!) point of
view! Now I never make jokes myself—at
least intentionally—nor do I think it becomes
a man of position to do so—and I quite agree
with Swift or Sheridan (I know it was one
of these infernal clever literary chaps) who
said, '' A humorous woman is a delusion and
a snare! "—so you may imagine my disgust
at finding My Wife writing for a Journal!
—why couldn't she have asked Me to help
her ?—and signing her articles anonymously
too!—for I need hardly tell you she is no
more " Gay" than I am!—at alfevents when
in my society!
Like most busy idlers (that is not intended
for a joke) —I go racing a bit, and of course
"have a bit on " like other people, and having
tried all the turf-prophets in turn, with un-
satisfactory results, I was delighted to hear
from ajriend that " a new Daniel had. come
to judgment" in the person of a tipster on
PHANTASMA-GOKE-IA.
Picturing the various Modes of Melodramatic Murder. (By Our '1 Off-Ms "-Head Poet.)
No. II.—THE POISON MURDER.
Sit close to your friend, for a frightful end
Is at hand for the miser Jew!
Sit tight to your seat while the pulses beat—
Nestle close to your neighbour, do !
Eor he '11 perish, alas !
From a property glass
Filled with nothing whatever—neat!
The poison he lifts, and the lot he shifts !
Oh! unfortunate miser Jew!
What use is your gold, now your time is told,
And your moments in life are few ?
You may writhe where you sit
Like an eel in a fit,
But you '11 die like the Jews of old!
He's there bv himself, counting piles of
pelf
Of a counterfeit gamboge hue.
He's wizened and dried like old Arthur
Gride,
That the novelist Dickens drew.
In the midst of his heaps,
He conveniently sleeps
With his glass at his right-hand
side!
Keep watch on the door while he snores
his snore—
See it open a foot or two!
Oh! well is it planned ! for the wobbling
hand
Of the villain, with bottle blue,
Knows at once where to pass
To the property glass
Of the melodramatic brand !
The murderer goes; the Jew's eyes un-
close,
And they look for his liquor true!
Sit tight while the treat is at fever heat;
For I saw by that bottle blue,
And I knew by its label too,
That the stuff it contained,
If by anyone drained,
Must prove fatal if taken neat!
You may struggle a lot,
And get awfully hot,
But you '11 have to lie stiff and cold!
You may wriggle no end,
But you 're a dead 'un, my friend-
Till the Curtain is quite unrolled!
{j^p NOTICE.—itejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures ox any description, will
in no case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper, lo this rule
there will be ao exception.
OPERA-GOERS' DIARY.
Covent Garden, Tuesday, Nov. 1st.—Tristan und Isolde. About
the dullest thing that even a much-enduring Wagnerite ever heard.
Glass down to zero.
Our Critic at The Opera.
He heareth Tristan
und Isolde wrapt in
slumber.
He seeth and heareth
A'ida, " More power
to your Melba ! "
He heareth Caval-
leria Rusticana
rapt in ecstasy.
Wednesday.—Glass up again. Orfeo with the two Ravogli and
the marvellous Bauermeister as Cupid. Wonderful little lady
BAUERMEiSTER-singer ! I 've said it before, and I repeat it emphati-
cally, Bauermeister is "a little treasure" to an Operatic Manager.
Mascagni's Cavalleria Rusticana was the second course to-night,
in which this adaptable lady, the Cupid of the first piece, appeared as
old heart-broken grey-haired lucia, the mother of the gay Turiddu.
Were Sir Augustus inclined to introduce a little light English
jocosity into this serious Opera, he might give a line to the im-
placable Alfio, saying, "I've come to rid you of Turiddu!" If
Mascagni had heard this, he would have composed an additional
Intermezzo expressing the whole force of the idea.
Thursday .—Carmen expected, but tenor off colour, so change of
air (or should say airs) recommended, and adopted. Audience sent
to the countrv, or, rather, Rusticana brought to them.
Friday.—House crammed. Great excitement to hear Melba as
A'ida, the darky girl. Everybody delighted, except perhaps Melba
herself, who, on seeing the bouquets, must
have murmured, " Trop de fleurs'J'" Every-
body good. Quite the best night of the
Season. To-night Bauermeister appears as
Sacerdotessa. So this week she has been
Cupid, an old Peasant Woman, Frasquita, a
Brigand's Youn» Woman ; and then, being
repentant, she finishes as a Priestess ! It's a
whole life-time in a few days.
Punch, who was "wonderful good "—(it was just the time when she
did blunder on to a winner)—and I made up my mind to follow the
new Prophet Daniel ; but, by Jove ! it resulted in a loss, and Daniel
landed me among the lions in no time! These are not jokes, but sober
facts—I plunged heavily on ail the " Selections," and am now in the
pleasant position of owing the Ring a substantial sum in addition to
"the old," through following My Wife's advice—whilst her banking-
account is considerably augmented through having laid against her
own tips ! This may be humorous, but as 1 said, I don't approve of
humour when exercised on myself !
I laughed most consumedly at some of her articles, but on looking
them over again—(she has kept the lot, pasted in a book—a monu-
ment to my fatuity !)—I don't think so much of them now I know
she wrote them, and see that I could have made numberless valuable
suggestions had she only seen fit to consult me ! Of course I could
stop any further contribution on her part, but consideration for your
readers (?) prevents that—to say nothing of her determination to
continue—so I have therefore consented to her odd whim, on the
condition that in future I " edit" her contributions ;—I need hardly
assure you that I shall confine my " editing " strictly to these limits,
and that your own Editor need be under no apprehension as to my
usurping his place,—ably as I should, no doubt, fill it!
My Wife begs me to follow her example, and concludeVith a verse
—(I don't know where she picked up such a bad habit)—but—while
bowing to her wishes—(I am always polite)—to a certain extent, I
absolutely decline to make the verse other than blank !
Believe me, Yours obediently,
Charles Pomperson (Bart.).
Journalistic Selection.
must confess that if compelled
To write for any Journal,
I should prefer as a matter of
To write for Punch ! [choice
[On a slip of paper found in Sir Charles's envelope, we have the
following from our valued contributress—[Ed.]:—"'Dear Mr.
Punch,—I am too upset to write—you shall hear from me next
week. Yours as devotedly as ever,—Lady Gay."]
Anecdotage.—Mr. Punch one day was reading aloud from a book
of anecdotes when Mr. Weedon Grossmith was present. " What
rot! " observed the representative of Lord Arthur Pomeroy. And
Mr. Punch agreed with him.
LADY GAY'S DETECTION.
Mr. Punch, Sir, Berkeley Square, W.
I am surprised to find a Journal of your
standing lowering itself to follow the example
of the so-called "Society Journals" by in-
serting contributions from women !—I have
discovered, no matter how, that My Wife,
who always declares she hates letter-writing,
has for mon'hs past contributed a long
weekly letter to Punch, dealing with racing
from a humorous (save the mark!) point of
view! Now I never make jokes myself—at
least intentionally—nor do I think it becomes
a man of position to do so—and I quite agree
with Swift or Sheridan (I know it was one
of these infernal clever literary chaps) who
said, '' A humorous woman is a delusion and
a snare! "—so you may imagine my disgust
at finding My Wife writing for a Journal!
—why couldn't she have asked Me to help
her ?—and signing her articles anonymously
too!—for I need hardly tell you she is no
more " Gay" than I am!—at alfevents when
in my society!
Like most busy idlers (that is not intended
for a joke) —I go racing a bit, and of course
"have a bit on " like other people, and having
tried all the turf-prophets in turn, with un-
satisfactory results, I was delighted to hear
from ajriend that " a new Daniel had. come
to judgment" in the person of a tipster on
PHANTASMA-GOKE-IA.
Picturing the various Modes of Melodramatic Murder. (By Our '1 Off-Ms "-Head Poet.)
No. II.—THE POISON MURDER.
Sit close to your friend, for a frightful end
Is at hand for the miser Jew!
Sit tight to your seat while the pulses beat—
Nestle close to your neighbour, do !
Eor he '11 perish, alas !
From a property glass
Filled with nothing whatever—neat!
The poison he lifts, and the lot he shifts !
Oh! unfortunate miser Jew!
What use is your gold, now your time is told,
And your moments in life are few ?
You may writhe where you sit
Like an eel in a fit,
But you '11 die like the Jews of old!
He's there bv himself, counting piles of
pelf
Of a counterfeit gamboge hue.
He's wizened and dried like old Arthur
Gride,
That the novelist Dickens drew.
In the midst of his heaps,
He conveniently sleeps
With his glass at his right-hand
side!
Keep watch on the door while he snores
his snore—
See it open a foot or two!
Oh! well is it planned ! for the wobbling
hand
Of the villain, with bottle blue,
Knows at once where to pass
To the property glass
Of the melodramatic brand !
The murderer goes; the Jew's eyes un-
close,
And they look for his liquor true!
Sit tight while the treat is at fever heat;
For I saw by that bottle blue,
And I knew by its label too,
That the stuff it contained,
If by anyone drained,
Must prove fatal if taken neat!
You may struggle a lot,
And get awfully hot,
But you '11 have to lie stiff and cold!
You may wriggle no end,
But you 're a dead 'un, my friend-
Till the Curtain is quite unrolled!
{j^p NOTICE.—itejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures ox any description, will
in no case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper, lo this rule
there will be ao exception.