Punch, or The London Charivari | Page 7

subsequent proceedings, when he didn't change anybody into Harlequin, Clown, and so forth, puzzled the unlearned spectators considerably. But Mr. TERRISS came out all right, and acquitted himself (being his own judge and jury) to the satisfaction of the public. His speech about Dover Cliff, generally supposed to convey some allusion to the Channel Tunnel, was excellently delivered, and certainly after Lear, "on the spear side," Mr. TERRISS must take the Goodeley Cake.
Next to him in order of merit comes Mr. FRANK COOPER, as the wicked Edmund, on whom the good EDMUND, "Edmundus Mundi," smiled benignantly from a private box. There was on the first night a great reception given to HOWE--the veteran actor, not the wreck, and very far from it--who took the small part of an old Evicted Tenant of the _Earl of Glo'ster_, a character very carefully played by Mr. ALFRED BISHOP, _Floreat Henricus!_ "Our HENRY" has his work cut out for him in this "Titanic work," as in his before-curtain and after-play speech he termed it. This particular "Titanic work" is (or certainly was that night) in favour with "the gods," who "very much applauded what he'd done." But the gods of old were not quite so favourable to "Titanic work" generally, and punished eternally Titanic workmen. To-night gods and groundlings applaud to the echo, and then everyone goes home as best he can in about as beautiful a specimen of a November fog as ever delighted a Jack-o'-Lantern or disgusted
PRIVATE BOX.
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AN OPERATIC NOTE.--Wednesday.--Lord Mayor's Day and Sheriff Sir AUGUSTUS DRURIOLANUS'S Show. _L' Amico Fritz_, or "The old Min is friendly," as Dick Swiveller would have put it. Not by any means as bright as Cavalleria. Mlle. DEL TORRE, del-lightful as Suzel. M. DUFRICHE, very good as _Rabbino_; CREMONINI, weak as _Fritz_; and Mlle. MARTHA-CUPID-BAUERMEISTER, good as usual in the part of the "harmless necessary _Cat"-erina._ Opera generally "going strong."
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REPORTED DECISION.--Uganda is to be occupied till March next. Then, order of the day, "March in, March out!"
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"SAFE BIND, SAFE FIND!"
P.C. JOHN BULL _LOQUITUR_:--
Keep them? Right my Gallic friend! 'Tis my duty, sad but binding. Free the Wolf--to what good end? Loose the Snake--what vantage finding? Faction flusters, Cant appeals In the name of sham-humanity. Right, not wrath, my bosom steels; Softness here were sheer insanity.
_You_'ve my warmest sympathy, Victim of the new Red Terror! My caged RAVACHOLS to free Were the maddest kind of error. Prison walls and dungeon wards Love I not, I'm no born gaoler, But just Law which Freedom guards Must ignore anarchic railer.
Blind offence of men half mad 'Neath the goad of brute oppression, Blunderings of fierce fools of fad, Demoniacal possession Of red rage at law unjust, I can check with calm compassion; But must firmly crush to dust Murder--in the newest fashion.
Dynamite as Freedom's friend? 'Tis the foul fiend's latest juggle. We must fight it to the end, Firm, unfaltering in this struggle. Mere "Political Offence," All this murder, mashing, maiming? 'Tis a pitiful pretence, Honour-blinding, wisdom-shaming.
Indiscriminate, ruthless raid! Mad chance--medly of disaster! Sophistry, the fiend's sworn aid, Never better served its master Than in calling such hell-birth A new gospel, holy, human,-- Blasting as with maniac mirth Blameless men, and guiltless women!
No! The Dynamiter's creed-- Though hate swagger, though cant snivel-- Fires no "patriotic" deed; Base-born, all its ends are evil. Let caged wolves and tigers free? What more wicked, what absurder? Amnesty to Anarchy Means encouragement to Murder?
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WHERE TO PLACE HIM.--Why ought the future Poet-Laureate, whoever he may be, to occupy rooms over or close to the stables at Buckingham Palace? Because he would then be inspired by the Royal Mews.
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[Illustration: A TEST OF TRUE GENTILITY.
"WHAT'S THE NEW LODGER LIKE, MARIARANN?"
"HE'S NO GENTLEMAN, WHATEVER HE'S LIKE!"
"NO GENTLEMAN! WHAT'S HE BEEN AND DONE?"
"WHY, HE SEE ME A-CARRYIN' UP THE COALS, AN' HE SAYS, 'I'M AFRAID THAT SCUTTLE'S TOO HEAVY FOR YOU,' 'E SAYS,--'PRAY LET ME CARRY IT!' 'E SAYS. AN' 'E UP AND CARRIES IT ISSELF, JUST LIKE A FOOTMAN!"]
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TO A MODEL YOUNG LADY.
[It is reported that it is a common custom in Paris, amongst ladies of position, to pay for their dresses by wearing them in public, and letting it be known from whom they obtained them.]
My dear, I like your pretty dress, It suits your figure to a T. I'm free to own that I confess, It's just the kind of dress for me. Yet will you kindly tell me, dear, Not merely was the costume made for Yourself alone--but is it clear And certain that your dress is paid for?
Mistake me not. I do not dread That you'll think fit to run away And leave the bill unpaid. Instead, I fear that