DOI issue:
December 3, 1892
DOI Page / Citation link: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17694#0261
256 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [December 3, 1892.
ALL ROUND THE FAIR,
No. III.
In the "Fine Art" Exhibition.
Rustic Art Patron3 discovered applying their eyes to peepholes,
through which a motley collection of coloured lithographs of the
Crimean Campaign, faded stereoscopic-views, Scriptural engrav-
ings, and daubed woodcuts from the " Illustrated Police News,"
Inside the Sparring Saloon.
The Spectators are waiting patiently around the ropes ; the Professor
is still on the platform, expatiating on the coming contest. Joe
has found a friend whom he has entrusted with his hat and coat.
Joe (to the Friend). Jest kip a heye on these 'ere, will ye !
[He hands him a huge pair of highlows.
Prof, (calling in). Fur the larst time, come outside and show
yerselves, all on yer!
is arranged for their inspection. \ The Friend. You got to go out agin, Joe, better putt on yer coat
First Art Patron (waiting for his turn at the first peephole). Look an''at, not to ketch cold!
alive theer, Ge-arge, ain't ye done squintin' at 'un yet P
Ge-arge (a local humorist). 'Tis a rare old novelty, Ben, th' latest
from London, and naw mistake 'bout it!
Ben (with disappointment, as he succeeds to the peephole). "Why,
'tain't on'y Adam an' Eve afoor th' Fall! that ain't so partickler
noo, as I can see—Lar dear, they 're a settin' nekked on a live lion,
and a nursin' o' rabbits! (At the next hole_ Adam and Eve are re-
presented " After the Fall,11 overwhelmed with confusion, while the
Joe.^ Ah, and I '11 'ave to 'ave they bo-oots on agen, too. (He gets
into his things in a great flurry, and hastens outside.) 'Tis enough
to take th' 'art out of a man, thet 'tis !
{More exhortations from Proprietor, until the last Spectator has
been induced to enter the Saloon, whereupon the Champions
return, and the hangings at the entrance are finally drawn.
Prof, (acting as Timekeeper). Now then, all ready ? (To Joe.)
In you go—What are yer waitin' for ? Never mind about takin' orf
lion is stalking off scandalised, with a fine yer boots ! Gentlemen, Batters o' Ber-
expression of lofty moral indignation.) 'Ere \ mondsey is agoin' to fight three rounds with
they are agen! that theer lion thinks he's \ a volunteer, one o' your own men. What-
played sofy to 'en long 'nough, seemin'ly ! -i 1ft, \. ever you see between 'em (solemnly), pass no
Ge-arge (from a further peephole). I say, / j remarks! Time!
Ben, 'ere's Mrs. Pearcey a murderin' I \T\ \ [j°e an^ " Batters o' Bermondsey" walk
Mrs. 'Ogg down this 'un—we 're a-gittin' !J i \ round each other and make a fumbling
along.' tin ' J ^p&liiil \ attempt to shake hands, after which Joe,
Ben (puzzled). They must ha' skipped out M / j | f IIH^ \ while preparing to deliver a blow with
a deal. I'm on'y at " Cain killin' Abel! " m j | !; j§ \ extreme caution and deliberation, is sur-
Female Patron (to Proprietor). 'Ere, Ij j prised by a smart smack on his cheek,
Master, I can't see nothen' down 'ere—'tis jf» / s$k \ which makes him stagger ; he recovers
all dark like! jf '»|| \ ^m^/r\lM\%^\x himself and prances down on Batters
Proprietor. Let me 'ave a look! You /'/,'/ M^X} -4w #/ 'f^f % y^^vv with a windmill action.
shud put your 'ands so, each side o'your / , Wmt)^ jPfit *7 ^"^mk Batters (limping into his comer), 'Ere, I
eyes, and-(He looks.) 'Urn, it is rayther (// J^HMiM ft 'u 'wL^-^ ) \ say, ole man—moind my tows—foight at yer
—but what else do yer expeckf It's a |7 ^^W^^mm f^^^^W^^^j \ right end!
" 'View o' Paris by Night," ain't it—that's h '. '•■^^ffl|if \ ^oe (apologetically). I didn't mean nothing
all right! /;7 ^\wt" My'^^^:X'ff/i^ \\ unfair-like—I warnted fur to take off them
Outside "Professor Pdgman's Sparring If. ]M MlmWuMi'l\ 'ere boots-bnt I warn't let! .
Saloon." /// (v« IJMn Tfflfc 1 \\ Batters. I '11 let ye-fur 'taint no corpet
' mfl I mill j *»•'••{! h\ slippers as you've got on, ole feller, I tell
The Professor (on a little platform, with |H\ g| ||| lWM \ 1A yer strife !
a pair of Pupils). Now then, all you as are V Huylj ||//../, 1 Sm [Joe removes the offending boots.
lovers o' the Noble and Manly Art o' Self- m \ 111 f If j;'I il/'/' $ Spectators (during the second round,
Defence, step inside and see it illusterated in o ■ Jy || f IS j II*'/! ■■> which is fought with more spirit than science
a scientific an' fust-class manner! [ This \\ [M\ m, mm , l3^^f\ on Jon's part). Ah, Joe ain't no match for
(introducing first Pupil, who rubs his nose V . *dfl W\\ I'Mr;jB||( \ 'un—he let un ''ave it then, didn't he ? My
ivith dignity) is 'Opper of 'Olloway, the be- \ //' ]j ; \ word! but it's "Go 'ome an' tell yer
coming nine-stun Champion. This bother's \ -l l\\ ' \\ WBBBk '■P$| \ Mother, an'ax yer Uncle 'ow ye be " with
Batters o' Bermondsey, open to fight any V j \ ' \\ wft-c'N 'un, pretty near every time!
lad in England at eight-stun four. Is there v\ \\. I| x Prof. (icith affected rapture). Oh dear !
anyone among you willing to'ave a round j X \ I KW-R Oh lor! What doins! Time I you two,
or two with either on 'em fur a drink an' , \ i || mM* afore ye kill one another! Now, Gentle-
admission free ?—if so, now's bis time to \ |^j|!,Kf / ^^\\a men, a good clap, to encourage'em. I think
step forward—there's no waiting, mind \ wlr/'lit'/ waal you'll agree as the Volunteer is showin'
yer? rfjifijrX ' jguSf' ' 1/ |f«rt\ you good sport j and, if you think him de-
Joe (to Melia). I b'lieve as 'ow I could \\'jW.,j ' " servin' of a drink, p'raps one o' you will
tackle the little 'un—I used to box above \ L' uffl 'J^^^.J^^^ **<tf™M2M oblige with the loan of a 'at, which he '11
a bit. 1 Ui" \ /ft .^V" ^j^^P cow take round. (The hat is procured, and
Melia. Don't ye now, Joe ; you'II on'y go \ /* WE^r offered to Joe, who, however, prefers that
and git yourself'urt or summat! *Ur &'e collection should be made by deputy.)
Joe. j shan't git'urt. 'Ere, Master, I'm Don't for git 'im, Gentlemen! (Coppers
game fur to put on the gloves wi' 'im. " Iheer they are ! Oh my, what a pictur'! " pour into the hat, and the last round is
Prof. Git inside with yer then! (To fought; B. of B. ducking Joe's blows with
Crowd.) Now then for the Great Glove Contest—Just goin' inside
to begin—Mind, there's no waitin'!
Joe. 'Ere, Melia, come along in, and look arter my 'at an' coat.
Melia. I dussen't, Joe ! I can't abear to see no fightin', I'll bide
'ere till ye come out.
[Joe enters the tent, followed by the Pupils and a few Connoisseurs.
Prof, (looking into the interior of tent through a slit in the canvas).
Theer they are ! Oh my, what a pictur'! They 're puttin' on the gloves
now, make'aste if you're goin'in ! (The Crowd hesitate.) 'Ere! (To
the Champions.) Step outside once more and show yourselves !
[The Champions appear, re-mount the platform, and are intro-
duced all over again.
Melia (intercepting her swain). Joe, 'ow are ye gittin' on? You
don't look none the worse so fur; is it neelly over ?
Joe (gruffly). Neelly over ! why, we ain't begun yet—nor likely to
wi' all this bloomin' palaverin'!
3felia. I do wish 'twas over—Kip a good 'art, Joe; don't let 'ungo
knockin' ye about!
Joe (with a slight decrease of confidence). Theer's a way to talk !
I dcan't reckon as 'ow he '11 kill me, not in three rounds, I doan't,
but if I'd a-know'd there'd be all this messin' about fust, I'd a—■—
[He goes inside gloomily.
great agility, and planting his own freely in various parts of Joe's
anatomy.)
Spectators. 'E'll be knocked out in a minnit, 'e will! Don't
sim to git near 'un no 'ow. Look a' that—and thar agin! Ah,
Joe got one in that time—but the tother's the better man—'e don't
touch 'un without 'tiffin' of 'un—d'ye see ? Time ! Ah, and time
it was time, too—fur 'tm /
Prof, (to Joe, as he sits blinking, and blowing his nose with
vigour). That was a jolly good fight—tho' rough. You've some
notion o' sparrin'—we'd soon make a boxer o' you. 'Ere's your
share of the collection—sevenpence ap'ny. We give you the
extry ap'ny, bein' a stranger. "Would you feel inclined to
fight six rounds, later on like, with another of our lads, fur ten
bob, now ?
Joe (making a futile attempt to untie his glove with his teeth).
Much obliged, Master, but I've 'ad about enough spree a'ready to
do me fur a bit.
Prof. Are there any two friends in 'ere as 'ud like to fight a
round or two ?
[Two Rustics step forward valiantly—a tall dark man and a
little red-haired one—and, after the usual preliminaries,
square up at a safe distance.
ALL ROUND THE FAIR,
No. III.
In the "Fine Art" Exhibition.
Rustic Art Patron3 discovered applying their eyes to peepholes,
through which a motley collection of coloured lithographs of the
Crimean Campaign, faded stereoscopic-views, Scriptural engrav-
ings, and daubed woodcuts from the " Illustrated Police News,"
Inside the Sparring Saloon.
The Spectators are waiting patiently around the ropes ; the Professor
is still on the platform, expatiating on the coming contest. Joe
has found a friend whom he has entrusted with his hat and coat.
Joe (to the Friend). Jest kip a heye on these 'ere, will ye !
[He hands him a huge pair of highlows.
Prof, (calling in). Fur the larst time, come outside and show
yerselves, all on yer!
is arranged for their inspection. \ The Friend. You got to go out agin, Joe, better putt on yer coat
First Art Patron (waiting for his turn at the first peephole). Look an''at, not to ketch cold!
alive theer, Ge-arge, ain't ye done squintin' at 'un yet P
Ge-arge (a local humorist). 'Tis a rare old novelty, Ben, th' latest
from London, and naw mistake 'bout it!
Ben (with disappointment, as he succeeds to the peephole). "Why,
'tain't on'y Adam an' Eve afoor th' Fall! that ain't so partickler
noo, as I can see—Lar dear, they 're a settin' nekked on a live lion,
and a nursin' o' rabbits! (At the next hole_ Adam and Eve are re-
presented " After the Fall,11 overwhelmed with confusion, while the
Joe.^ Ah, and I '11 'ave to 'ave they bo-oots on agen, too. (He gets
into his things in a great flurry, and hastens outside.) 'Tis enough
to take th' 'art out of a man, thet 'tis !
{More exhortations from Proprietor, until the last Spectator has
been induced to enter the Saloon, whereupon the Champions
return, and the hangings at the entrance are finally drawn.
Prof, (acting as Timekeeper). Now then, all ready ? (To Joe.)
In you go—What are yer waitin' for ? Never mind about takin' orf
lion is stalking off scandalised, with a fine yer boots ! Gentlemen, Batters o' Ber-
expression of lofty moral indignation.) 'Ere \ mondsey is agoin' to fight three rounds with
they are agen! that theer lion thinks he's \ a volunteer, one o' your own men. What-
played sofy to 'en long 'nough, seemin'ly ! -i 1ft, \. ever you see between 'em (solemnly), pass no
Ge-arge (from a further peephole). I say, / j remarks! Time!
Ben, 'ere's Mrs. Pearcey a murderin' I \T\ \ [j°e an^ " Batters o' Bermondsey" walk
Mrs. 'Ogg down this 'un—we 're a-gittin' !J i \ round each other and make a fumbling
along.' tin ' J ^p&liiil \ attempt to shake hands, after which Joe,
Ben (puzzled). They must ha' skipped out M / j | f IIH^ \ while preparing to deliver a blow with
a deal. I'm on'y at " Cain killin' Abel! " m j | !; j§ \ extreme caution and deliberation, is sur-
Female Patron (to Proprietor). 'Ere, Ij j prised by a smart smack on his cheek,
Master, I can't see nothen' down 'ere—'tis jf» / s$k \ which makes him stagger ; he recovers
all dark like! jf '»|| \ ^m^/r\lM\%^\x himself and prances down on Batters
Proprietor. Let me 'ave a look! You /'/,'/ M^X} -4w #/ 'f^f % y^^vv with a windmill action.
shud put your 'ands so, each side o'your / , Wmt)^ jPfit *7 ^"^mk Batters (limping into his comer), 'Ere, I
eyes, and-(He looks.) 'Urn, it is rayther (// J^HMiM ft 'u 'wL^-^ ) \ say, ole man—moind my tows—foight at yer
—but what else do yer expeckf It's a |7 ^^W^^mm f^^^^W^^^j \ right end!
" 'View o' Paris by Night," ain't it—that's h '. '•■^^ffl|if \ ^oe (apologetically). I didn't mean nothing
all right! /;7 ^\wt" My'^^^:X'ff/i^ \\ unfair-like—I warnted fur to take off them
Outside "Professor Pdgman's Sparring If. ]M MlmWuMi'l\ 'ere boots-bnt I warn't let! .
Saloon." /// (v« IJMn Tfflfc 1 \\ Batters. I '11 let ye-fur 'taint no corpet
' mfl I mill j *»•'••{! h\ slippers as you've got on, ole feller, I tell
The Professor (on a little platform, with |H\ g| ||| lWM \ 1A yer strife !
a pair of Pupils). Now then, all you as are V Huylj ||//../, 1 Sm [Joe removes the offending boots.
lovers o' the Noble and Manly Art o' Self- m \ 111 f If j;'I il/'/' $ Spectators (during the second round,
Defence, step inside and see it illusterated in o ■ Jy || f IS j II*'/! ■■> which is fought with more spirit than science
a scientific an' fust-class manner! [ This \\ [M\ m, mm , l3^^f\ on Jon's part). Ah, Joe ain't no match for
(introducing first Pupil, who rubs his nose V . *dfl W\\ I'Mr;jB||( \ 'un—he let un ''ave it then, didn't he ? My
ivith dignity) is 'Opper of 'Olloway, the be- \ //' ]j ; \ word! but it's "Go 'ome an' tell yer
coming nine-stun Champion. This bother's \ -l l\\ ' \\ WBBBk '■P$| \ Mother, an'ax yer Uncle 'ow ye be " with
Batters o' Bermondsey, open to fight any V j \ ' \\ wft-c'N 'un, pretty near every time!
lad in England at eight-stun four. Is there v\ \\. I| x Prof. (icith affected rapture). Oh dear !
anyone among you willing to'ave a round j X \ I KW-R Oh lor! What doins! Time I you two,
or two with either on 'em fur a drink an' , \ i || mM* afore ye kill one another! Now, Gentle-
admission free ?—if so, now's bis time to \ |^j|!,Kf / ^^\\a men, a good clap, to encourage'em. I think
step forward—there's no waiting, mind \ wlr/'lit'/ waal you'll agree as the Volunteer is showin'
yer? rfjifijrX ' jguSf' ' 1/ |f«rt\ you good sport j and, if you think him de-
Joe (to Melia). I b'lieve as 'ow I could \\'jW.,j ' " servin' of a drink, p'raps one o' you will
tackle the little 'un—I used to box above \ L' uffl 'J^^^.J^^^ **<tf™M2M oblige with the loan of a 'at, which he '11
a bit. 1 Ui" \ /ft .^V" ^j^^P cow take round. (The hat is procured, and
Melia. Don't ye now, Joe ; you'II on'y go \ /* WE^r offered to Joe, who, however, prefers that
and git yourself'urt or summat! *Ur &'e collection should be made by deputy.)
Joe. j shan't git'urt. 'Ere, Master, I'm Don't for git 'im, Gentlemen! (Coppers
game fur to put on the gloves wi' 'im. " Iheer they are ! Oh my, what a pictur'! " pour into the hat, and the last round is
Prof. Git inside with yer then! (To fought; B. of B. ducking Joe's blows with
Crowd.) Now then for the Great Glove Contest—Just goin' inside
to begin—Mind, there's no waitin'!
Joe. 'Ere, Melia, come along in, and look arter my 'at an' coat.
Melia. I dussen't, Joe ! I can't abear to see no fightin', I'll bide
'ere till ye come out.
[Joe enters the tent, followed by the Pupils and a few Connoisseurs.
Prof, (looking into the interior of tent through a slit in the canvas).
Theer they are ! Oh my, what a pictur'! They 're puttin' on the gloves
now, make'aste if you're goin'in ! (The Crowd hesitate.) 'Ere! (To
the Champions.) Step outside once more and show yourselves !
[The Champions appear, re-mount the platform, and are intro-
duced all over again.
Melia (intercepting her swain). Joe, 'ow are ye gittin' on? You
don't look none the worse so fur; is it neelly over ?
Joe (gruffly). Neelly over ! why, we ain't begun yet—nor likely to
wi' all this bloomin' palaverin'!
3felia. I do wish 'twas over—Kip a good 'art, Joe; don't let 'ungo
knockin' ye about!
Joe (with a slight decrease of confidence). Theer's a way to talk !
I dcan't reckon as 'ow he '11 kill me, not in three rounds, I doan't,
but if I'd a-know'd there'd be all this messin' about fust, I'd a—■—
[He goes inside gloomily.
great agility, and planting his own freely in various parts of Joe's
anatomy.)
Spectators. 'E'll be knocked out in a minnit, 'e will! Don't
sim to git near 'un no 'ow. Look a' that—and thar agin! Ah,
Joe got one in that time—but the tother's the better man—'e don't
touch 'un without 'tiffin' of 'un—d'ye see ? Time ! Ah, and time
it was time, too—fur 'tm /
Prof, (to Joe, as he sits blinking, and blowing his nose with
vigour). That was a jolly good fight—tho' rough. You've some
notion o' sparrin'—we'd soon make a boxer o' you. 'Ere's your
share of the collection—sevenpence ap'ny. We give you the
extry ap'ny, bein' a stranger. "Would you feel inclined to
fight six rounds, later on like, with another of our lads, fur ten
bob, now ?
Joe (making a futile attempt to untie his glove with his teeth).
Much obliged, Master, but I've 'ad about enough spree a'ready to
do me fur a bit.
Prof. Are there any two friends in 'ere as 'ud like to fight a
round or two ?
[Two Rustics step forward valiantly—a tall dark man and a
little red-haired one—and, after the usual preliminaries,
square up at a safe distance.