The Art of Amusing. Frank Bellew

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СКАЧАТЬ Showman and asks him if he has ever seen his Baby. The Showman replying in the negative, Punch extols the beauty of his offspring in the same extravagant strain as he has already done that of his wife, makes the same comparison between his own and the Baby's nose, declares that the Baby never cries, and that she is "so fond of him."

      The Baby is now ordered to be brought up-stairs, and Judy disappears to obey her lord's mandate. During her absence Punch favors the company with a song. When Judy returns, bearing the infant Punch in her arms, Mr. P. goes into raptures, calls it a pretty creature, pats its cheek, and goes through all the little endearing ceremonies common to fathers. After again informing the Showman that his Baby never cries, and is fondly attached to him, he takes the infant in his arms, whereupon she immediately sets up a continuous howl. Punch tries to hush and pacify it for some time, but at last, losing his temper, shakes it violently and throws it out of the window, or in other words, at the feet of the audience. Judy is of course distracted, weeps bitterly, and upbraids her husband, when the enraged Mr. Punch dives down-stairs and gets his club, and whilst Mrs. P. is still weeping, gives her three or four sound blows on the back of the head. This makes Mrs. P. cry still more, which, in turn, increases Mr. P.'s wrath, who ends by beating her to death and throwing her after the Baby. The Showman upbraids Punch with his crime, but Punch defends himself by saying it served her right. However, he finally admits that he is naturally a little hasty, but then he adds, "It's over in a minute," and that's the kind of disposition he likes. He further adds:

      P. "I'm a proud, sensitive nature."

      S. "You're a proud, sensitive nature, are you, Mr. Punch? I don't see much pride in killing a baby."

      P. "That's because you don't understand the feelings of a gentleman."

      S. "Because I don't understand the feelings of a gentleman? Well, if those are the feelings of a gentleman, I don't want to understand them, Mr. Punch."

      This dialogue can be carried on to suit the taste and invention of the exhibitor.

      Presently, while Mr. P. is recklessly glorying in his crime, declaring that he is afraid of nothing, and laughing to scorn the Showman's admonition, the Ghost makes his appearance close to Mr. P.'s shoulder, and stands there for some time, listening unobserved to Punch's brag. After a while, however, turning round, Punch catches sight of him, and is rooted to the spot with horror for a few seconds; then he retreats backwards, his whole body trembling violently, till he reaches the side of the theatre; here he turns round slowly to hide his face from the awful apparition. When, by turning away, he loses sight of the Ghost for a few seconds, he recovers his voice so far as to say to the Showman in trembling tones: "W-h-h-a-a-t a hor-r-r-rid creature! What an awful creature!" Then he turns round very slowly to see whether the "horrid creature" is gone, but finding it still there, suddenly jumps back – jambs himself up in the corner – pokes his head out of the window, and screams, "Murder! murder! murder!" shaking all the time violently. This he repeats several times, till at last the Ghost disappears. Then Mr. P. recovers his courage and swaggers about as before, vowing he is afraid of nothing, etc., etc.

      Now appears on the stage the Constable, who twists himself about in a pompous style for some seconds, and then addressing Mr. Punch, says:

      Constable. "I've come to take you up!"

      P. "And I've come to knock you down!" (which he accordingly does with his club).

      The Constable gets up, and is again knocked down several times in succession. Not relishing this style of thing, however, he disappears and returns with a club, and a battle royal ensues, part of which – that is to say, one round of the battle – shows the skill of the Constable in dodging Mr. P.'s blows, and can be made immensely funny if properly performed. It is done in this way: The Constable stands perfectly still, and Punch takes deliberate aim; but when he strikes, the Constable bobs down quickly, and the blow passes harmlessly over his head. This is repeated frequently, the Constable every now and then retaliating on Mr. P.'s "nob" with effect. Not succeeding with the sabre-cut, Punch tries the straight or rapier thrust. He points the end of his baton straight at the Constable's nose, and after drawing back two or three times to be sure of his aim, makes a lunge; but the Constable is too quick, dodges on one side, and Punch's club passes innocently out of the window. This is repeated several times, till the Constable sails in and gives Punch a whack on the head, crying: "There's a topper!" Punch returns the compliment with the remark: "There's a whopper!" Now they have a regular rough and tumble, in which Punch is vanquished.

      The Constable disappears and returns with the gallows, which he sticks up in a hole already made in the stage (four-inch board previously mentioned), and proceeds to prepare for the awful ceremony of hanging Mr. P. Punch, never having been hung before, cannot make out how the machine is intended to operate – at least he feigns profound ignorance on the subject. When the Constable tells him to put his head into the noose, he puts it in the wrong place over and over again, inquiring each time, "That way?" till at last the executioner, losing all patience, puts his own head in the loop, in order to show Mr. P. how to do it, saying: "There! that's the way! Now do you understand?" To which Punch responds, "Oh! that's the way, is it?" at the same time pulling the end of the rope tight, and holding on to it till the struggling functionary is dead, crying all the time: "Oh! that's the way, is it? Now I understand!"

      Punch dances a triumphant jig, and so ends the immoral drama of Punch and Judy.

      Many more characters can be added at the option of the performer, besides which, jokes and riddles can be introduced to any extent. We have given the skeleton of the play, with all the necessary information for getting up the characters.

      We will conclude this chapter with an excellent charade, the answer to which will be given in the next chapter:

CHARADE

      My whole is the name of the school-boy's dread,

      My first is the name of a quadruped;

      My first transposed a substance denotes,

      Which in carts or in coaches free motion promotes;

      Transpose it again, and it gives you the key

      Which leads to the results of much industry.

      My second is that which deforms all the graces

      Which cluster around the fair maidens' fair faces;

      Transpose it, and it gives you the name of a creature

      Of no little notice in the history of nature.

      Now take my whole in transposition,

      And it will give you the dress of a Scotch musician.

      CHAPTER V

      Heretofore the fireside amusements recorded by us have been rather masculine in their character. In this chapter we shall have the pleasure of describing an entertainment of more feminine qualities. It was a small party, of the description which the Scotch call a cookeyshine, the English a tea-fight, and we a sociable. A few young ladies in a country village had conspired together to pass a pleasant evening, and the head conspirator wrote us a note, which consisted of several rows of very neat snake-rail fences (not "rail snake" fences, as the Irishman said), running across a pink field. We got over the fences easily, and found ourselves in a pretty parlor, with six pretty young ladies, one elderly ditto, and a kind of father. The ladies, as we entered, were engaged in making tasty little scent-bags. We had often seen the kind of thing before, but never so completely carried out.

      The principal idea consisted in making miniature mice out of apple-seeds, nibbling at a miniature sack of flour. But in this case they had filled the sack with powdered orris-root, and the small bottles with otto of roses, making altogether a very fragrant little ornament. The subjoined sketch will convey the idea to any one wishing to try her hand at this kind of art.

      As СКАЧАТЬ