Punch, Or The London Charivari | Page 6

out hand-in-hand through the door, which they
leave open. The room (as is not uncommon with rooms in Norway) is
left empty. Then Madam HELSETH enters through another door._
_Madam H._ The cab, Miss--not here! (_Looks out._) Out together--at
this time of night--upon my--not on the garden-seat? (_Looks out of
window._) My goodness! what is that white thing on the bridge--the
Horse at last! (_Shrieks aloud._) And those two sinful creatures
running home!
_Enter ROSMER and REBECCA, _out of breath._
Rosmer (_scarcely able to get the words out_). It's no use,
REBECCA--we must put it off till another evening. We can't be
expected to jump off a footbridge which already has a White Horse on
it. And, if it comes to that, why should we jump at all? I know now that
I really have ennobled you, which was all I wanted. What would be the
good of recovering faith in my mission at the bottom of a mill-pond?
No, REBECCA--(_lays his hand on her head_)--there is no judge over
us, and therefore--
_Reb._ (_interrupting gravely_). We will bind ourselves over in our
own recognisances to come up for judgment when called upon.
[_Madam HELSETH holds on to a chair-back, REBECCA finishes the
antimacassar calmly as Curtain falls._

* * * * *
A GRAND OLD WETTERUN!
I ain't bin werry well lately, and, to crown the hole, I was cort in the
Lizzard, I think, as they called it, on that awful Munday nite, and that
was pretty nearly a settler for both my old bones and my breth, and
might ha' bin quite so, if one of the werry kindest Members of the old
Copperashun as I nos on, who had bin a dining with a jolly party on 'em,
hadn't kindly directed my notise to about a harf bottle-full of werry fine
old Port, with the remarkabel kind words, "That's just about what you
wants, Mr. ROBERT, to take you ome safely this most orful nite!" And
so it were, and I didn't waste a single drop on it.
[Illustration: The "Tipper's" Strike.]
However, I was obligated to have a good long rest, which I took out
mostly in sleep; but, jest as I was preparing to set out for the "Grand
Hotel," in comes my Son; and he says to me, "Guvnor," says he--I
notise as he allers calls me Guvnor when he wants me to do
sumthink--"I wants you to do me the favour to ask _Mr. Punch_ for to
do you a favour." "Why, what do you mean?" says I. "Why, this is what
I means," says he. "About the grandest feller as ewer in the hole world
gave up fifty years of his useful life to trying to make hundreds of
stupid boys into clever boys, and hundreds of bad boys into good boys,
and hundreds of dull boys into witty boys, is a going for to have a
testymonial given him by sum of them hundreds of boys, me among
'em, to sellybrate his Jewbilly, same as the QUEEN had the other day.
Ewery one of us as lives in London will jump at the chance; but the
boys as he turns out from the great City of Lundon Skool is such reel
fust-raters, that they gits snapped up direckly by Merchants and peeple,
and sent all over the werld for to manidge their warious buzzinesses
there, so we don't know how to get at 'em; but as _Mr. Punch_ goes
wherever any smart, clever English chap goes, if he wood most kindly
let this littel matter be mentioned, the grandest, and sucksessfullest, ay,
and wittiest Skool Master of modern times wood get his dew reward."
So says my Sun, and prowd I was to lissen to his words; and this is

what I can add to them from my own knowlidg. There's sum of the old
boys, as isn't quite as yung as when they left Skool, as has formed a
club to dine together sumtimes, and tork of old times, like senserbel
fellers as they is; and Mr. JOSEPH HARRIS, the gennelman in
question, is allers there, and allers has to make a speech, and I am
amost allers there too; and, to hear the joyful shouts of arty welcome
with which his old pupils greets him when he rises for to speak, and
their roars of larfter at his wit, and his fun, and his good-humer, while
he is a speaking, is so wery remarkabel, that I sumtimes wanders
whether it doesn't, a good deal of it, rise from the fact of his great
School being so close to _Mr. Punch's_ own horfice. But this is over
the way, as the great writer says. May I be alowd to had that my speshal
frend, and hewerybody's speshal frend, Mr. COOKE, is