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Title: Punch and Judy
The tragical acts, or comical tragedies of Punch and Judy
Author: Willliam J. Judd
Illustrator: George Cruikshank
Release Date: February 5, 2015 [EBook #48171]
Language: English
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PUNCH AND JUDY.
[Illustration: MR. PUNCH.
FROM THE ORIGINAL BY
GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.]
THE TRAGICAL ACTS,
OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES
OF
PUNCH AND JUDY,
WITH TWENTY-THREE ILLUSTRATIONS,
FROM ORIGINALS BY
GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.
AND OTHER PLATES,
ACCOMPANIED BY THE DIALOGUE OF THE PUPPET-SHOW, AN ACCOUNT OF ITS
ORIGIN, AND OF PUPPET-PLAYS IN ITALY, ENGLAND AND AMERICA,
WITH INSTRUCTIONS CONCERNING THE CHOICE, SELECTION
AND ACTING OF THE PUPPETS.
BY PROF. W.J. JUDD.
[Illustration]
NEW YORK:
HAPPY HOURS COMPANY, PUBLISHERS,
NO. 5 BEEKMAN STREET.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1879, by
HAPPY HOURS COMPANY,
in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.
LIST OF ENGRAVINGS FROM ORIGINALS
BY
GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.
PAGE.
Portrait of Mr. Punch _Frontispiece._
Behind the Scenes 10
Punch and his Dog Toby 26
Punch with his Horse Hector 27
Judy Beats Punch 32
The Doctor Physics Mr. Punch 34
Scaramouch and his Fiddle 49
Punch and his Pretty Polly 50
Punch and his Music 52
Punch teaches Jack Ketch how to hang a man 57
Punch fights Old Nick 60
Punch Victorious 61
OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS NOT BY MR. GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.
PAGE.
The Performance of the Tragedy _Title._
The new Water Scene, and the Sinking Ship 17
Side view of a large Punch and Judy Theatre 17
The Spirit of Fun gives the Baby back to Judy 29
Mrs. Barrisnobe and the Dutchman 38
The Dutchman and Mary struggle for the bed 47
The Dutchman sees a Ship 63
Trial Scene by the Black Judge 65
The Snake swallows Mr. Punch 69
The Ventriloquial Champions 72
The Royal Marionettes 79
CONTENTS.
PAGE.
Introduction, 9
Chapter I.--Origin of Punch in Italy, 11
II.--Origin and Progress of Puppet-Plays in England, 12
III.--Antiquity of Punch in America, 14
IV.--On the Construction of the Theatre and the Acting of the
Puppets--on the Choice and Selection of Performing
Figures--on the Management of the Punch Squeaker, 16
THE TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES OF PUNCH AND JUDY.
Punch and his Dog Toby, 25
Scaramouch with Punch and his Horse, 28
Punch, Judy and the Baby, 29
Punch sees a Ghost, 34
Punch and the Doctor, 34
Punch kills Scaramouch, 36
The Irishman tells Punch a little story, 36
Punch and the Opera Singer, 37
Clown troubles Mr. Punch, 37
The Persecuted Dutchman in Mrs. Barrisnobe's Hotel, 38
Schmidt is waited on by Teddy, Pretty Polly and Mrs. Barrisnobe;
he retires to rest, but is disturbed all through the night by
strange and uninvited visitors--first by Teddy, who gives him a
clubbing, followed by a Clown, Irishman, the Doctor, Adelina,
Captain Blowhard, Police Officer, a Lawyer, a Ghost, Mrs.
Barrisnobe, with a final struggle betwixt Mary and the Dutchman,
who attempts to carry off the bed, 39
Scaramouch and his Fiddle, 49
Punch and his Pretty Polly, 50
Servant orders Punch to Stop his Music, 52
Punch and the Blind Man, 54
Punch and the Constable, 55
Punch hangs the Hangman, 57
Joey and Punch bury Jack Ketch, 59
Punch Alarmed at the Appearance of the Demon, 60
Gradually becoming bolder, he fights His Majesty, 61
Punch Victorious, 61
The Sinking Ship and Storm at Sea, 62
The Black Judge, 65
Punch in his famous 695,000 Box Act, 69
Dialogue for a pair of Ventriloquial Champions, 73
A Young Lady's Conversation, 77
Price List of Punch and Judy Properties, 78
The Royal Marionettes, 79
[Illustration]
INTRODUCTION.
With the assistance of information that we have gained, being a
practical performer of acknowledged ability, we are about to fill up a
_hiatus_ in theatrical history.
It is singular that, to the present day, save by one author of a
valuable work, now out of print, no other attempt has been made
to illustrate the origin, biography and character of a person so
distinguished and notorious as MR. PUNCH. His name and his performances
are familiar to all ranks and ages; yet none have hitherto taken the
trouble, in this country or abroad, to make any inquiries regarding
himself, his family or connections. The "studious Bayle" is recorded to
have repeatedly sallied from his retreat, at the sound of the cracked
trumpet, announcing his arrival in Rotterdam; and we ourselves, who
have often hunted our favorite performer from street to street, saw the
late Mr. Windham, then one of the Secretaries of State, on his way from
Downing Street to the House of Commons, on a night of important debate,
pause like a truant boy until the whole performance was concluded, to
enjoy a hearty laugh at the whimsicalities of "the motley hero." But it
is needless to particularize. Punch has
"made our youth to laugh,
Until they scarcely could look out for tears;"
while the old have stood by, "delighted with delight" of others,
and themselves, too, enjoying the ludicrous representation. Why the
interest has hitherto been limited to the period of representation, and
whether it has not in part arisen from inability to satisfy it, is not
for us to explain. We confine ourselves to an endeavor, in some degree,
to supply the deficiency.
The contrast between the neglect Mr. Punch has experienced, and
the industry employed in collecting particulars relating to other
performers of far less reputation, is remarkable. Nevertheless, it is
undeniable that his fame has spread "without his stirring" over all
the kingdoms of the civilized world. To use the wordy periphrasis of
Dr. Johnson,
"Let observation, with extensive view,
Survey mankind from China to Peru,"
if it can, and it will everywhere behold Punch dispensing "the luxury
of a laugh." It is literally true that some years ago he found his way
to Canton; and that since the South American Revolution he has been
seen even on the western side of the Andes. He is, perhaps, himself
in part to blame for the neglect we have noticed. Several of the
principal supporters of our theatres, in our own day, have given their
memoirs to the world, either by writing them with their own hands, or
by furnishing the materials to others; and the works of this kind by
dead actors, "the forgotten of the stage," consist of many volumes.
Whether it has arisen from an absence of that vanity (may we call it?)
which has at times influenced his histrionic rivals, or from a somewhat
haughty reluctance on his part to gratify public curiosity, we know not.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER I.
ORIGIN OF PUNCH IN ITALY.
Mr. Punch (whose original family name was probably _Pulcinella_) first
came into existence at Acerra, an ancient city at a short distance
from Naples. The date of this event is differently stated by authors
who have incidentally mentioned him, Riccoboni fixing it before the
year 1600, and Gimma and Signorelli after the commencement of the
seventeenth century. The words of Gimma are very precise, and as he
enters into particulars, it seems safe to rely upon his authority for
this important fact.
The performances, in which the actor was left to his own talents and
discretion in furnishing the dialogue, were once extremely popular
throughout Italy; but from the very nature of the representation, it
unluckily happens that not a single specimen has been handed down to
our time.
However, to pursue this topic would lead us away from the object of our
present inquiry. We take it for granted that Silvio Fiorillo invented
Pulcinella, and first introduced him as a variety in the list of
buffoons required to represent the impromptu comedies of Naples: but,
although he may date his separate existence from about the year 1600,
it is a matter of much doubt whether he was not, in fact, only a branch
of a family of far greater antiquity. The discovery, in the year 1727,
of a bronze statue of a mime, called by the Romans _Maccus_, has indeed
led some antiquaries to the conclusion that he was, in fact, Pulcinella
under a different name, but with the same attributes, and among them a
hump-back and a large nose.
The dress, too, corresponds very much with the _motley_ or parti-colored
habit of the clowns of our old dramatic poets. It is true that the
different hues have been arranged with greater regularity, and the
patches are of smaller size. The ordinary habiliments of Punch at the
present day, preserved by ancient usage, with his pointed fool's-cap,
bear a much nearer resemblance; and this is one circumstance that
evidences the strong family likeness between the Vice, Harlequin and
Pulcinella. Riccoboni represents the _ancient_ Harlequin in a dress
composed of patches, as if his ragged clothes had been often mended,
and Goldoni speaks of him as originally a poor, foolish dolt.
According to Quadrio, in his "Storia d'ogni Poesia," the name of
our hero has relation to the length of his nose: he would spell
it Pullicinello from _Pulliceno_, which Mr. D'Israeli translates
"turkey-cock," an allusion to the beak of that bird. Baretti has it
Pulcinella, because that word in Italian means a hen-chicken, whose cry
the voice of Punch is said to resemble. Pollicenello, as it has also
been written, in its etymology from _pollice_, "the thumb," goes upon
the mistaken presumption that his size was always diminutive, like that
of our English worthy, of cow-swallowing memory. The French _Ponche_
has been fancifully derived from no less a personage than Pontius
Pilate of the old Mysteries, whom, in barbarous times, the Christians
wished to abuse and ridicule. If we cannot settle the disputed point,
it is very evident that, in future, ingenuity and learning will be
thrown away in attempting further elucidation.
CHAPTER II.
ORIGIN AND PROGRESS OF PUPPET-PLAYS IN ENGLAND.
Before we proceed farther, it will be necessary to consider, briefly,
the antiquity and nature of puppet-plays in the old country. It is the
more proper to do so, because they form a branch of our drama which
has never been examined by the historians of our stage with as much
interest and industry as the subject deserves. When we mention that no
less a man than Dr. Johnson was of opinion that puppets were so capable
of representing even the plays of Shakspeare, that Macbeth might be
performed by them as well as by living actors, it will be evident
from such a fact only, that the inquiry is far from unimportant. In
connection with this opinion, and confirmatory of it, we may add, that
a person of the name of Henry Rowe, shortly before the year 1797, did
actually, by wooden figures, for a series of years, go through the
action of the whole of that tragedy, while he himself repeated the
dialogue which belongs to each of the characters.
Puppet-plays are of very ancient date in England; and, if they were not
contemporary with our Mysteries, they probably immediately succeeded
them.
The formidable rivalship of puppet-plays to the regular drama is
established by the fact that the proprietors of the theatres in Drury
Lane, and near Lincoln's Inn Fields, formerly petitioned Charles II.
that a puppet-show stationed on the present site of Cecil Street in
the Strand, might not be allowed to exhibit, or might be removed to a
greater distance, as its attractiveness materially interfered with the
prosperity of their concerns. It is not unlikely that burlesque and
ridicule were sometimes aimed at the productions of the regular stage
by the exhibitors of "motions."
Powell's show was set up in Covent Garden, opposite to St. Paul's
Church; and the "Spectator" (No. 14) contains the letter of the
sexton, who complained that the performances of Punch thinned the
congregation in the church, and that, as Powell exhibited during the
time of prayers, the tolling of the bell was taken, by all who heard
it, for notice of the intended commencement of the exhibition. The
writer of the paper then proceeds, in another epistle, to establish
that the puppet-show was much superior to the opera of "Rinaldo and
Armida," represented at the Haymarket, and to observe that "too much
encouragement could not be given to Mr. Powell's skill in _motions_." A
regular parallel is drawn between the two, which ends most decidedly in
favor of Powell in every respect but the inferior point of the moral.
From these sources we collect, most distinctly, that the popularity of
Punch was completely established, and that he triumphed over all his
rivals, materially lessening the receipts at least at the Opera, if not
at the regular national theatres, and accomplishing at that period,
by his greater attractiveness, what Dennis, by his "Essay on Operas
after the Italian manner," and other _critiques de profession_, had
been unable to effect. He could hardly have taken such firm possession
of the public mind if he had only recently emigrated from his native
country.
The late Mr. Joseph Strutt, in his "Sports and Pastimes of the People
of England," thus speaks of the puppet-shows in his time: "In my
memory these shows consisted of a wretched display of wooden figures,
barbarously formed and decorated, without the least degree of taste or
propriety: the wires that communicated the motion to them appeared at
the top of their heads, and the manner in which they were made to move
evinced the ignorance and inattention of the managers. The dialogues
were mere jumbles of absurdities and nonsense, intermixed with low,
immoral discourses, passing between Punch and the fiddler, for the
orchestra rarely admitted of more than one minstrel; and these flashes
of merriment were made offensive to decency by the actions of the
puppet."
From whatever cause the change may have arisen, certain it is that at
present, in the ordinary exhibitions of "Punch and Judy," the breaches
of decorum complained of by Mr. Strutt are rare and slight.
We have never seen less than two men concerned in these ambulatory
exhibitions: one to carry the theatre and use Punch's tin whistle, and
the other to bear the box of puppets and blow the trumpet. During the
performance the money is collected from the bystanders, and far from
agreeing with Mr. Strutt that the contributions are "very trifling,"
we have seen, for we have taken the pains to ascertain it, three, four
and five shillings obtained at each repetition; so that, supposing only
ten performances take place in a summer's day, the reward to the two
men, on an average, might be about a sovereign each. On one occasion
we remember to have seen three different spectators give sixpence,
besides the pennies elsewhere contributed, on which the collector went
back to the theatre and whispered the exhibitor, who immediately made
Punch thus address the crowd: "Ladies and gentlemen, I never yet played
for sevenpence halfpenny, and I never will; so good-morning." He then
"struck his tent" and departed, pocketing nearly two shillings, and
excusing himself from going through the performance, under pretence
that all the contributions he had received only amounted to sevenpence
halfpenny.
CHAPTER III.
ANTIQUITY OF PUNCH IN AMERICA.
In the preceding chapters we have spoken of the origin, progress and
high esteem held for Punch and puppet-plays throughout the countries
of Italy and England; and judging from our own personal experience and
actual knowledge, in still greater favor may Punch be said to hold for
himself amongst the fun-loving Americans. What children's party is
brought to a perfect state of merriment unless with the greetings and
comicalities of Mr. Punch?
Though for a while the tracing of the adventures and travels of Mr.
Punch throughout this land is lost, yet we have before us sufficient to
show that his family are of good antiquity, the _New York Gazette_ of
Feb. 20th, 1739, having the following announcement:
"To-morrow will be performed, in Mr. Holt's long room, the new
pantomime entertainment, in grotesque characters, called 'The
Adventures of Harlequin and Scaramouch; or, The Spaniard Trick'd,'
to which will be added an Optick, wherein will be represented in
perspective several of the most noted cities and remarkable places
in Europe and America, with a new Prologue and Epilogue addressed to
the town. To begin precisely at six o'clock. Tickets to be had at Mr.
Holt's, at five shillings each."
Ireland's history of the New York stage preserves the next earliest
record of mechanical puppets performed in this country. It refers to
the _New York Gazette_ of August, 1747:
"To be seen at the house of Mr. Hamilton Hewetson, at the sign of the
Spread Eagle, near White Hall slip, Punch's opera, 'Bateman; or, The
Unhappy Marriage,' with a fine dialogue between Punch and his wife,
Joan, acted by a set of lively figures."
In August, 1749, the play of "Whittington and his Cat" was announced
to be acted in New York city by Punch's company of comedians, and in
the following year the same company, supposed to be mechanical figures,
were to have performed the "Norfolk Tragedy; or, The Babes in the
Wood," along with "Entertainments of Men and Women."
Passing on to the time within the memory of the present generation, we
find that Mr. Punch came into special favor about the year 1866, as may
be gathered from the reports in the English newspapers of that time,
Manvers and others of England's best Punch and Judy players having left
its shores to try their fortunes in America's more favored channels.
In 1874 the demand for puppets was so great that it became difficult
to meet the wants of the many professors that had decided to become
performers. Notwithstanding the growing number of actors, in the fall
of 1876 not one unemployed Punch and Judy performer could be found in
New York city.
As to the puppet-show of "Punch and Judy," it never is looked at by our
people but as a mere joke; and a most effective part of that joke is
the ultimate triumph of the hero; without it the representation would
be not only "flat and stale," but "unprofitable." We have seen it so,
for we remember a showman on one occasion not merely receiving little
or no money, but getting lamentably pelted with mud, because, from some
scruple or other, he refused to allow the victory over the Devil to
Punch. Besides, it may surely deserve consideration, whether, wicked
as Punch unquestionably is, the Devil is not the worse offender of
the two, and, consequently, the more deserving of punishment. If so,
poetical justice is satisfied.
Recently an American showman has introduced a very famous popular
piece as a closing act to the comical tragedies of Mr. Punch, in which
our hero, after having gained a victory over the demon, is eventually
himself swallowed up by a great snake. (_See the Act for _Punch_ and
his great _$25,000 Box Trick_._)
CHAPTER IV.
ON THE CONSTRUCTION OF THE THEATRE AND THE ACTING OF THE PUPPETS.
Having dwelt at some length on the antiquity and high popularity of
Mr. Punch, we will devote the whole of this chapter in explaining to
the reader how he may successfully arrange and work the figures, with
a description of the frames or Punch and Judy houses in which the
performer operates his troupe of puppets.
Portable frames, complete, ready for use, are advertised by the author
in the last pages of this work; yet the reader, if a genius, may save
half its cost by constructing for himself the little house. Obtain
four pieces of pine, eight feet long, two inches in diameter; let them
be planed on the four sides; divide each piece in the centre, and fix
thereon an hinge, with a bolt on the opposite side; thus the four
eight-feet pillars may be made to fold up to fit into any box or trunk
four feet in length. Next cut six cross-pieces, 31 inches long, for
the sides, two to be used for the centre, and four for the ends; next
get ready five lengths, 36 inches long, to make the cross-pieces for
the back and front of the frame, four to be fitted on the four ends,
the remaining one to form the cross-piece on which you screw a flat
piece of wood, six inches wide, to form the stage, which we advise to
be fixed up about 59 inches from the ground, the whole to be clamped
firmly together with twenty-two ordinary iron bolts and nuts. If each
joint is mortised, the skeleton structure will have a wonderful degree
of strength. To finish, cut a shelf from a ten-inch board, full 36
inches long; mortise two of the corners to fit or catch into the two
front pillars; this you lay on the two centre cross-pieces, which forms
you a snug interior shelf on which you lay all the figures that you
use in the performance. A proscenium, cut out of thick cardboard,
and tastefully decorated or painted, should be hung in front of the
stage. This, with the calico covering that you wrap around the frame,
completes the structure, illustrations of which may be seen on our
title-page and next succeeding engraving.
It is generally known that the writer of this book owns the largest
and most complicated Punch and Judy theatre in the world, with its
six changes of scenery; and, although its plan of construction has
been kept secret, we think that to the readers of this work we ought
to convey some idea of its specialties. We therefore not only give a
description, but have caused our artist to make engravings of two of
its most important parts of construction. The theatre is near ten feet
in height, over six feet frontage, and the same distance in its depth
to back of stage. Below we give a description of the engraving.
[Illustration: J, K is a side view of the little theatre; M forms a
front view of an interior water scene, which is located towards the
back of the stage; the flies, five in number, are painted green, with
splashes of white to represent sea-foam; each fly is attached to two
small green cords through the holes at N, N; there are two cross-pieces
above, that traverse from the stage, front to back; on these are ten
hooks; the green cords are strung on to these hooks; the five flies
are then swung into motion, which, to the audience, represents a storm
at sea. The ship sails along once the whole length; but on its second
or third journey it is wrecked; the sails ruffle up, and it gradually
sinks beneath the waves. When there are two performers concealed in
this theatre, the ship is made to meet another vessel (_a steamer_);
the two to collide; one is wrecked, the other sails away safely. These
ships are so constructed that they mechanically wreck at the will of
the performer. L, L are two of the pillars of the theatre; K is the
upper cross-beam, with four wooden pegs projecting out; J is a grooved
board about five inches in diameter, with holes bored to correspond
with the pegs to fit secure on the cross-beam K; A, B, C, D and E are
half-circles, cut out to receive rollers containing the drop scenery;
F, F, F, F, F are grooves cut to receive the wings that are placed in
front of the drop scenery; H is the pulley; I shows section of pulley;
G shows pulley and cord fitted on to the roller at A. The five pulleys
should not be more than four inches in diameter. A should be the scene
of a prison, B an hotel scene, C the forest, D the Black Hills, and E
the background. A front drop scene can also be added, which does not
stand located in the engraving. The remaining portion of this theatre
is made and bolted together after the plan advised for the smaller
frame. The theatre once properly built, each timber must be legibly
marked before taken apart, so that the performer may speedily rebuild
the same when wanted.]
Having thus fully explained how to construct a Punch's theatre, we will
now proceed to treat on
THE CHOICE AND SELECTION OF PERFORMING FIGURES,
of which there are two classes--the perfectly made and the imperfect.
The latter, which are chiefly importations from foreign countries,
should be studiously avoided by the performer. They may be distinguished
from the properly made puppets by their cramping the hand, their
shortness of dress bringing into special notice the arms of the
performer as he attempts to manipulate them above the stage. The
desirable genuine-made figures can only be safely secured by ordering
them from a dealer or maker that is himself, also, a Punch and Judy
player. A bona fide performer, of course, knows just how they ought
to be made, and prides himself on their perfectness, improvements and
advantages over those of the toy importers that deal in the productions
of novices, made for them at the cheapest rates; hence the reducing of
those essential parts of the dress that are of special advantage to the
performer. We draw the reader's attention to the address of the dealer
whose card will be found in the last pages of this book, and who will
supply you with correctly made figures, and has every appurtenance and
stage-requisite treated on in this work.
An operator can give a very fair show with an outfit of eight figures,
to which, from time to time, he should add others, until he has a
complete set, which are to be arranged on the inner shelf in his frame
in the following order:
Under his left hand, at the end of shelf, he lays the Snake Demon and
Little Dog; next to them the Sheriff, Doctor, Ghost, Negro, Negress,
Judy; on his right or other end Punch, Scaramouch, Dutchman, Irishman,
and Pretty Polly; over these he rests Dog Toby and Punch's Baby in
readiness for the opening acts. Amongst the figures he should have a
bell, the gallows, and three clubs, as sticks for Mr. Punch. The box
trick, coffin, and other stage properties should lie on the ground near
the performer's feet. Where there is but one player to work the show,
remember to put a stick in the hole of Mr. Punch's head, and in several
of the others. This greatly assists the performer, and enables him to
catch the figures up much quicker, and prevents Mr. Punch from dropping
down his head, as if weary. Whilst one figure is up to view above the
stage, the operator may quickly adjust another figure by holding its
head betwixt his chin and breast, whilst he plants his hand beneath its
dress.
The performer should educate himself to playing the acts both
single-handed, and also with the help of an assistant. Where convenient
for two performers to be inside the frame, the show, of course, can be
gotten up on a much more grand and extensive scale. Punch is always
held in the performer's right hand, and is always to be the hero in
the tragedies, and the most lively of all the puppets, and operated
by the best man of the two performers. The assistant player puts up a
third figure at some window or side corner to poke fun at Mr. Punch,
and also is a useful help by interesting the company at any gap in the
performance caused by the leading performer fixing his puppets ready
for the successive acts. The players must remember to give to each
figure genuine life-like motions, convey the impressive idea by shaking
the head or arms of each figure in turn, as they converse one with the
other. This advice is of special importance, and should be observed
by the players. On no account should Mr. Punch be allowed to remain
motionless, dull or stupid, with nothing to say or do. He is ever to
be the gayest of the gay, king and conqueror of all before him. Once
in view above the stage before the company, whilst waiting for an act
to commence or for a figure to come up, he thumps his club down on the
stage, throws it at the showman outside, dances, or sings a verse of
a song. After a figure has entered and announced to Mr. Punch that he
has a fine horse for Mr. Punch to ride on, Punch shows his pleasure by
running from end to end of the stage, to the company appearing to enjoy
taking note of every effort that is being made to bring the horse in.
Hector enters; the comical results relating thereto are illustrated and
described in the dialogue for Act I.
ON THE MANAGEMENT OF THE SQUEAKER.
Some writers have raised objections to the use of the instrument called
the Punch and Judy Squeaker, on account of the greater difficulty in
articulating the words used by Mr. Punch. From the earliest times
within the reach of our memory the familiar squeak of Mr. Punch has
always greeted our ear. We therefore say by all means let it so
continue. A little practice will soon enable you to articulate the
sound of words intelligibly, and until you are proficient in its use,
the answer of the other figure will convey the meaning. Thus, Punch,
in his squeaking voice, asks for the baby. Judy answers, "Oh, Mr.
Punch, you want the baby, do you? Well, I'm afraid it's asleep, but
I'll go and see." Let the squeaker be (_a good one_) placed on the
centre of the tongue, held close to the roof of the mouth and the words
spoken through it. It will readily rest itself on the tongue when the
answering voice is made. The best squeakers are made of silver; they
are fully four times thicker in substance than those that are made
of tin or zinc, hence they cannot so easily be crushed up, and only
require rebinding with tape about once every year. A second squeaker
should also be in the performer's vest pocket for instant readiness in
case squeaker No. 1 should be dropped out of the performer's mouth.
Having instructed the reader how to build a theatre, and traced the
history, with the character and deportment, of Mr. Punch, we shall now
proceed to place his performances upon record. It is time to do so for
the benefit of posterity; lest, as society gradually acquires a more
superfine polish than it even now possesses, it should be impossible,
hereafter, to print what is fortunately yet considered innocent and
harmless. Addison tells us that "the merry people of the world are the
amiable," and in the language of "a man forbid," we address ourselves
to those,
"Chi amano, senza smorfia e ipocrisia
Gl'innocenti piaceri e l'allegria."
[Illustration]
THE
TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES
OF
PUNCH AND JUDY.
PREFACE.
Portions of the following drama are founded upon the performances
of an old Italian Punch and Judy performer of the name of Piccini,
who has perambulated the towns and country hamlets of England for
the last forty or fifty years. Like the representations of our early
stage, it was not by him distinguished into acts and scenes, but the
divisions were easily made. The writer is a professional player of
Punch and Judy, and now gives the public, in this book, not only the
Italian Piccini's earlier introduction, but the records of his own
experience, with gleanings from that of other first-class players. The
whole now assumes a shape in which it may rival most of the theatrical
productions of the present era, whether by Poole, popular for his "Paul
Pry," Peake for his puns, Planche for his poetry, Peacock for his
parodies or Payne for his plagiarisms.
Piccini lived in the classical vicinity of the West End of London,
and up to the time that ourselves left England (in 1869) was still
travelling, considering it "no sin to labor in his vocation." He is
thus described by a writer in a discontinued periodical called the
_Literary Speculum_, which we quote because it is the only printed
notice we have seen of an individual so generally known. It is to be
observed that the article to which we are indebted was published many
years ago, and the author of it speaks of his own youth, when Piccini's
age was "as a lusty winter, frosty but kindly," and before "time, the
old clock-setter," had nearly let him run the whole length of his
chain without winding him up again. "He (Piccini) was an Italian;
a little thick-set man, with a red, humorous-looking countenance.
He had lost one eye, but the other made up for the absence of its
fellow by a shrewdness of expression sufficient for both. He always
wore an oil-skin hat and a rough great-coat. At his back he carried
a deal box, containing the _dramatis personæ_ of his little theatre,
and in his hand the trumpet at whose glad summons hundreds of merry,
laughter-loving faces flocked round him, with gaping mouths and anxious
looks, all eager to renew their acquaintance with their old friend
and favorite, Punch. The theatre itself was carried by a tall man, who
seemed a sort of sleeping partner in the concern, or mere _dumb waiter_
on the other's operations." The woodcut on our title-page precisely
corresponds with this lively description, making some allowance for the
difference of age in the master of the puppet-show; still, however, not
too old to carry his deal box and to blow an "inspiring air."
There is one peculiarity about Piccini's puppets which deserves notice:
they were much better carved, the features having a more marked and
comic expression than those of his rivals. He brought most of them over
with him from Italy, and he complained that in England he had not been
able to find any workman capable of adequately supplying the loss if
by chance one of his figures had been broken or stolen. Why his Punch
was made to squint, or, at least, to have what is known by the epithet
of a swivel-eye, unless for the sake of humor or distinction, does not
appear.
Besides Piccini's representation, we have compared the following
pages with, and corrected them and made additions according to, the
text of our professional performances and the exhibitions of other
perambulatory _artistes_ (as our neighbors term them) now flourishing.
The reader's attention should be specially directed to the acting drama
of the Persecuted Dutchman, in Mrs. Barrisnobes Hotel, and to Punch's
famous $25,000 Box Trick.
[Illustration]
THE
TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES
OF
PUNCH AND JUDY.
ACT I.
SCENE.--_The Forest._
SHOWMAN (_outside, calling out_). Now, Mr. Punch, I want you to show
yourself.
PUNCH (_within_). All right; let me put my boot on.
SHOWMAN. Your boot on--hurry up.
_Enter PUNCH. After a few preliminary squeaks, he bows three times
to the spectators--once in the centre and once at each side of the
stage, and then vigorously beats the stage with his club._
_Enter SCARAMOUCH._
SCARA. Hollo, Mr. Punch, what is all this noise about?
PUNCH. Who are you?
SCARA. I want to know what you've done with my dog Toby.
PUNCH. Your dog?
SCARA. Yes.
PUNCH. I know nothing about him.
SCARA. That won't do, Mr. Punch. You were seen going round Gretna
Square with him last night, and I want that dog.
PUNCH. You are a cure. (_beats his stick on the stage._)
SCARA. You call me a cure; that won't do, Mr. Punch.
PUNCH (_dancing around_). Yes, you are, you are.
SCARA. Now, Mr. Punch, that is too bad for you to call me a cure, when
here I am thought handsome, and am engaged to be married to Miss Jennie
L---- early next week.
PUNCH. I don't believe it.
SCARA. Yes, yes, it is true, and Bella's to be at the wedding, too; but
what, Mr. Punch, have you done with my dog?
PUNCH. I told you that I knew nothing about him. (_he knocks SCARAMOUCH
down-stairs with a blow of his club._)
[Illustration]
_Enter DOG TOBY._
TOBY. Bow, wow, wow!
PUNCH. How do, my good friend, your master, Mr. Toby? How do, Mr.
Scaramouch?
TOBY. Bow, wow, wow!
PUNCH. I'm glad to hear it. Poor Toby! What a nice, good-tempered dog
it is! No wonder his master is so fond of him.
TOBY (_snarls_). Arr! Arr!
PUNCH. What! Toby! you cross this morning? You got out of bed the wrong
way upwards?
TOBY (_snarls again_). Arr! Arr!
PUNCH. Poor Toby! (_putting his hand out cautiously, and trying to coax
the dog, who snaps at it_) Toby, you're one nasty, cross dog; get away
with you! (_strikes at him._)
TOBY. Bow, wow, wow! (_seizing PUNCH by the nose._)
PUNCH. Oh, dear! oh, dear! My nose! my poor nose, my beautiful nose!
Get away! get away, you nasty dog--I tell your master. Oh, dear, dear!
Judy! Judy!
[Illustration]
(_PUNCH shakes his nose, but cannot shake off the DOG, who follows
him as he retreats around the stage. He continues to call, "_Judy!
Judy, my dear!_" until the DOG quits his hold, and exit._)
PUNCH (_solus, and rubbing his nose with both hands_). Oh, my nose! my
pretty little nose! You nasty, nasty brute, I will tell your master of
you.
_Re-enter SCARAMOUCH._
SCARA. Ah, ah! Mr. Punch, you got the worst of it. My dog got hold
of your nose. Ah, ah! (_PUNCH, mad at being made fun of, aims a blow
at SCARAMOUCH, but misses; he, quickly disappearing, pops up again,
saying: "_Never mind, Mr. Punch, I'll fetch up a fine horse for you._"
PUNCH commences to dance about in high glee. SCARAMOUCH below stamps
his feet, calling out: "_Wo, ho, my Hector! this way, my Hector._"
PUNCH continues his dance, then attempts to mount his HECTOR by the
tail. Horse gallops away, PUNCH in pursuit._)
_Re-enter PUNCH, leading his horse by the bridle over his arm. It
prances about, and seems very unruly._
PUNCH. Wo, ho, my fine fellow! Wo, ho, Hector! Stand still, can't you,
and let me get my foot up to the stirrup.
(_While PUNCH is trying to mount, the horse runs away round the
stage, and PUNCH sets off after him, catches him by the tail, and
so stops him. PUNCH then mounts by sitting on the front of the
stage, and, with both his hands, lifting one of his legs over the
animal's back. At first it goes pretty steadily, but soon quickens
its pace, while PUNCH, who does not keep his seat very well, cries:
"_Wo, ho, Hector! Wo, ho!_" but to no purpose, for the horse sets
off at full gallop, jerking PUNCH at every stride with great
violence. PUNCH lays hold around the neck, but is ultimately thrown
upon the platform._)
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
ACT II.
SCENE.--_Interior of an Hotel._
PUNCH. Judy! Judy, my dear! Judy, my dear, can't you answer, my dear?
JUDY (_within_). Well, what do you want, Mr. Punch?
PUNCH. Come up-stairs; I want you.
JUDY. Then want must be your master--I'm busy.
PUNCH. Judy, my dear! Judy, my love! Pretty Judy, come up-stairs.
_Enter JUDY._
JUDY. Well, here I am. What do you want, now I'm come?
PUNCH (_aside_). What a pretty creature! An't she a beauty?
JUDY. What do you want, I say?
PUNCH. A kiss; a pretty kiss! (_kisses her, while she hits him a slap
on the face._)
JUDY. Take that, then. How do you like my kisses? Will you have another?
PUNCH. No; one at a time, one at a time, my sweet pretty wife!
(_aside_) She always is so playful. Where's the child? Fetch me the
baby, Judy, my dear.
JUDY. The baby? I'm afraid that she is asleep--I'll go down and see.
[_Exit JUDY._
PUNCH (_solus_). There's a wife for you! What a precious, darling
creature! She go to fetch our baby.
_Re-enter JUDY with the BABY._
JUDY. Here's the child. Pretty dear! Take the baby.
PUNCH (_holding out his hands_). Give it me--pretty little thing! How
like its sweet mamma!
JUDY. How awkward you are!
PUNCH. Give it me; I know how to nurse it as well as you do. (_she
gives it him_) Get away! (_Exit JUDY. PUNCH, nursing the CHILD in his
arms_) What a pretty baby it is! was it sleepy then? Hush-a-by, by, by.
(_sings to the tune of "_Rest thee, Babe_"_)
Oh, rest thee, my baby,
Thy daddy is here;
Thy mammy's a gaby,
And that's very clear.
Oh, rest thee, my darling,
Thy mother will come,
With a voice like a starling;--
I wish she was dumb!
Poor, dear little thing! it cannot get to sleep. By, by; by, by,
hush-a-by. Well, then, it shan't. (_dances the CHILD, and then sets it
on his lap, between his knees, and sings the common nursery ditty_)
Dancy, baby, diddy;
What shall daddy do widdy?
Sit on his lap,
Give it some pap--
Dancy, baby, diddy.
(_After nursing it upon his lap, PUNCH sticks the CHILD against
the side of the stage, on the platform, and going himself to the
opposite side, runs up to it, clapping his hands and crying,
"_Catchee, catchee, catchee!_" He then takes it up again, and it
begins to cry._)
What is the matter with it? Poor thing! it has got the stomach-ache,
I dare say. (_CHILD cries_) Hush-a-by, hush-a-by! (_sitting down,
and rolling it on his knees_) Naughty child! Judy, (_calling_) the
child has got the stomach-ache. Judy, I say! (_CHILD continues to
cry_) Keep quiet, can't you? (_hits it a spank_) I won't keep such a
naughty child. Hold your tongue! (_strikes the CHILD'S head several
times against the side of the stage_) There--there--there! How do you
like that? I thought I'd stop your squalling. Get along with you,
naughty, crying child! (_throws it over the front of the stage among
the spectators_) He, he, he! (_laughing and singing to the same tune as
before_)
Get away, naughty baby;
There it goes over.
Thy mammy's a gaby,
Thy daddy's a rover.
[Illustration]
_Re-enter JUDY._
JUDY. Where is the baby?
PUNCH. Gone--gone to sleep.
JUDY. What have you done with the child, I say?
PUNCH. Gone to sleep, I say.
JUDY. What have you done with it?
PUNCH. What have I done with it?
JUDY. Aye; done with it! I heard it crying just now. Where is it?
PUNCH. How should I know?
JUDY. I heard you make the pretty darling cry.
PUNCH. I dropped it out at window.
JUDY. Oh, you cruel, horrid wretch, to drop the pretty baby out at
window. Oh, (_cries, and wipes her eyes_) you barbarous man! Oh, I'll
make you pay for this, depend upon it.
[_Exit in haste._
PUNCH. There she goes. What a piece of work about nothing! (_dances
about and sings, beating time with his head, as he turns round, on the
front of the stage._)
[Illustration]
_Re-enter JUDY with a stick; she comes in behind, and hits PUNCH a
sounding blow on the back of the head before he is aware._
JUDY. I'll teach you to drop my child out at window.
PUNCH. So--o--oftly, Judy, so--o--oftly! (_rubbing the back of his head
with his hand_) Don't be a fool now. What you at?
JUDY. What! you'll drop my poor baby out at window again, will you?
(_hitting him continually on the head._)
PUNCH. No; I never will again. (_she still hits him_) Softly, I say,
softly. A joke's a joke.
JUDY. Oh, you cruel brute! (_hitting him again_) I'll teach you.
PUNCH. But me no like such teaching. What! you're in earnest, are you?
JUDY. Yes, (_hit_) I (_hit_) am. (_hit._)
PUNCH. I'm glad of it; me no like such jokes. (_she hits him again_)
Leave off, I say. What! you won't, won't you?
JUDY. No, I won't. (_hits him._)
PUNCH. Very well, then, now come my turn to teach you. (_he snatches
at, and struggles with her for the stick, which he wrenches from her
and strikes her with it on the head, while she runs about to different
parts of the stage to get out of his way_) How you like my teaching,
Judy, my pretty dear? (_hitting her._)
JUDY. O, pray, Mr. Punch--no more!
PUNCH. Yes; one little more lesson. (_hits her again_) There, there,
there! (_she falls down, with her head over the platform of the stage;
and as he continues to hit at her she puts up her hand to guard her
head_) Any more?
JUDY. No, no; no more. (_lifting up her head._)
PUNCH (_knocking down her head_). I thought I should soon make you
quiet.
JUDY (_again raising her head_). No.
PUNCH (_again knocking it down, and following up his blows until she is
lifeless_). Now, if you're satisfied, I am. (_perceiving that she does
not move_) There, get up, Judy, my dear; I won't hit you any more. None
of your shamming. This is only your fun. You got the headache? Why, you
only asleep. Get up, I say! Well, then, get down. (_tosses the body
down with the end of his stick._)
SHOWMAN (_outside_). Oh, Mr. Punch, what have you done? You will have a
ghost after you now.
PUNCH. I don't care.
SHOWMAN. You don't care?
PUNCH. No; I've seen five ghosts.
SHOWMAN. Five ghosts! What would you say were you to see one now?
PUNCH. I'd knock him down.
_Enter GHOST, which rises at back of the stage, stealthily
advancing to the front._
SHOWMAN. Well, there is one coming now; look to your left.
PUNCH (_looking right round the corner of the stage_). Here?
SHOWMAN. No; the other way.
PUNCH (_looks every way but the right direction; he at last sees the
GHOST; he trembles, saying_). Oh, dear! oh, dear! I've seen a ghost,
ghost, ghost!
[_Exit GHOST._
SHOWMAN. What is the matter, Mr. Punch?
PUNCH. I'm sick! I'm sick! I've seen a ghost. (_he lies down on the
stage._)
SHOWMAN. Well, call the doctor.
PUNCH. Doctor! Doctor!
[Illustration]
_Enter the DOCTOR._
DOCTOR. Who is that calling the doctor?
PUNCH. It is me.
DOCTOR. Where are you hurt? Is it here? (_touching his head._)
PUNCH. No; lower.
DOCTOR. Here? (_touching his breast._)
PUNCH. No; lower, lower!
DOCTOR. Here, then? (_going downwards._)
PUNCH. No; lower still.
DOCTOR. Then is your handsome leg broken?
PUNCH. No; higher.
(_As the DOCTOR leans over PUNCH'S legs to examine them, PUNCH hits
him in the eye._)
DOCTOR. Oh, my eye! my eye!
PUNCH. Aye, you're right enough; it is my eye, and Betty Martin, too.
DOCTOR. Let me feel your pulse, Mr. Punch.
PUNCH (_wriggling his body as he lies, says_). Oh, dear! so sick! so
sick!
DOCTOR (_feeling PUNCH'S pulse_). Why, Mr. Punch, you are all right;
forty-five to the minute.
PUNCH. Oh, no! I'm dead! I'm killed!
DOCTOR. That won't do, Mr. Punch; dead men don't talk.
PUNCH (_jumping up with a lively gait_). Ah! that is so.
DOCTOR. Then, Mr. Punch, since you are not dead, pay me my fee and let
me go.
PUNCH. Your fee?
DOCTOR. Yes, my fee.
PUNCH. How much?
DOCTOR. Five dollars.
PUNCH. Five dollars! Five dollars! Well, I've not got it.
DOCTOR. Well, then, go down and get it.
PUNCH. Ah! that is so! I'll just go down and bring up the money.
[_Exit._
_Re-enter PUNCH, with a stick._
PUNCH. Five dollars?
DOCTOR. Yes, and little enough, too.
PUNCH (_hitting the DOCTOR on the head_). One, two, three!
DOCTOR. Oh! golly, golly, Mr. Punch, what are you about?
PUNCH. Four, five, six dollars--one for good measure.
(_The DOCTOR falls lifeless on left-hand of the stage, and is left
lying to count up in the next act._)
_Enter SCARAMOUCH._
SCARA. Ah, ah! Mr. Punch, I've found you out. That's the way you killed
my poor dog, is it?
PUNCH (_striking him on the head_). Yes; just so.
(_SCARAMOUCH falls dead beside the DOCTOR. PUNCH counts them up,
"_One, two._"_)
_Enter IRISHMAN._
IRISH. Hey day, Mr. Punch, I'm glad to see you. (_he shakes hands._)
PUNCH. Ah, ah! Paddy, you look merry this morning. What brings you this
way?
IRISH. Only a little on the spree, and I'm going to tell you a little
story.
PUNCH. Well, go ahead.
IRISH. The other day, Mr. Punch, as I was going through the forest, I
met little Sammy Slick. He had in his hand a pretty little likeness of
his wife. He kissed it o'er and o'er. "Just like her," says he.
PUNCH. Just like who?
IRISH. Why, just like his wife.
PUNCH. Ah! just so. (_he gives a dance, then listens._)
IRISH. Well, on comes his wife, and says: "Did it kiss you back, my
dear?" "No," says he. "Then," saith his wife, "how can it be like me?"
(_IRISHMAN commences to dance, singing_) I'm o'er young to marry yet,
to marry yet, to----
PUNCH (_hitting him a terrific blow with his stick says_). So I
think--you are o'er young to marry yet. (_he counts the dead bodies
up_) One, two and three.
_Enter NEGRESS._
NEGRESS. Oh, Mr. Punch, I've been looking for you.
PUNCH. Well, my Julia, what can I do for you?
NEGRESS. I want you, Mr. Punch, to introduce me to the proprietor of
this show.
PUNCH. Well, Miss Julia, I'm the proprietor. What do you wish?
NEGRESS. What! Are you the proprietor?
PUNCH. Yes, I am.
NEGRESS. Mr. Punch, I'm an opera singer, and I want to sing to the
ladies and gentlemen here assembled.
PUNCH. You an uproar singer?
NEGRESS. No, an opera.
PUNCH. Yes; I said an uproar singer.
NEGRESS. Opera.
PUNCH. Yes, yes, an uproar.
NEGRESS. Well, then, an uproar, if you will have it so.
PUNCH. Well, what are you going to sing?
NEGRESS. Well, I can sing politics, sentimental, or on love.
PUNCH. Then let's have it on love.
NEGRESS (_sings_).
Two lovers wandering in a wood--
What can be more delightful?
Just as they whisper, "Be my own,"
Should some one overhear them,
Can mortal be more spiteful?
Two, not three, are company--
This proverb pray remember.
PUNCH (_strikes her down with a blow from his stick, and says_). If
that is uproar singing, we will have no more of that. (_he counts the
bodies up_) One, two, three and four.
(_PUNCH, suspecting there to be life in some of the bodies, carries
them, one at a time, to the right-hand side of the stage. After
he has arranged two bodies, and is going for the third, a CLOWN
walks up from behind and carries back one of the bodies; he also
lies down as if dead. PUNCH, missing the body, seems nonplussed.
Makes some remark, then fetches another. The CLOWN, unperceived by
PUNCH, repeats his fun. PUNCH is dismayed. Returns to the left of
the stage and asks the bodies: "_Are you all dead?_" and, whilst
PUNCH is looking towards the right, the CLOWN, jolting up his head,
says: "_Yes; all dead._" PUNCH, touching a body, says: "_Was that
you?_" He goes down for his club. CLOWN shifts one to the centre
of the stage. PUNCH, returning, belabors it with his club, says:
"_Oh! it is you, is it?_"--hit, hit--"_You will be dead this time,
I think._" Hit, hit, and places it on the right of the stage. He
now discovers the CLOWN at his antics. PUNCH makes for him; stands
him up against the left pillar of the stage; makes thrusts at him
with the end of his club, counting, "_One, two, three--e--e;_"
but every time the three is pronounced the CLOWN falls flat down,
causing PUNCH to miss his mark. PUNCH says, "_I'll fix you now._"
He spits against the post of the stage, and rubs the CLOWN against
it. He counts, "_One, two, three--e--e._" This time pins the CLOWN
to the post; but the moment the end of PUNCH'S club is removed, the
CLOWN darts away, giving PUNCH a lively knock on the back of the
head--makes after to run off with some of the bodies, and betwixt
the CLOWN and PUNCH the stage is soon cleared._)
END OF PART II.
The performer, when engaged at Church Fairs to give his representations
before successive audiences, holds up the negro to make the following
announcement: "Ladies and Gentlemen: The last act concludes the show.
Our next performance will take place in the course of fifteen minutes,
during which we shall have the honor of introducing the famous act of
THE PERSECUTED DUTCHMAN,
IN
MRS. BARRISNOBE'S HOTEL."
[Illustration]
ACT III.
_Enter SCHMIDT, carrying carpet-bag._
SCHMIDT. I vonder vether I can find a place vere I can sleep tonight.
Here is an hotel. I will just ring the bell. (_he sets carpet-bag on
stage and rings the bell._)
TEDDY (_pokes his head through the window, says_). I say, you there,
what are you doing ringing dat bell all this time for?
SCHMIDT. What, you old black nigger, come at last?
TEDDY. How dare you insult? Call me no nigger. I'm de colored man from
de South; and what do you want, I say?
SCHMIDT. Yaw! What you want with yat black face through dat window?
Come right out here; I vant to talk business.
TEDDY. Who are you calling black? Who rang dat bell?
SCHMIDT. I've walked von thirty-five mile this day, and I want von
place to sleep down on.
TEDDY. One place to sleep?
SCHMIDT. Yaw. Who keeps this hotel?
TEDDY. My mistress, sar--Mrs. Barrisnobe.
SCHMIDT. Then call that old basket up.
TEDDY. She is neither old nor a basket, sar.
SCHMIDT. Yaw! Vell, basket or no basket, call the old woman up.
TEDDY. What might your name be, sir?
SCHMIDT. I am John Schmidt.
TEDDY. I thought John Smith was dead.
SCHMIDT. No humbug! I am te original John Schmidt.
TEDDY. Well, Mr. Smith, I want my parquisites. (_goes to take
carpet-bag._)
SCHMIDT. You can't steal mine garpet-bags.
TEDDY. Ye's _lying_--under a mistake.
SCHMIDT. You tell me I'm lie, I vill blow your nose off. (_squares
himself, puts down carpet-bag, TEDDY takes it up--SCHMIDT scuffles with
him--TEDDY trips him--he falls on stage with carpet-bag in his arms_)
Oh, mine bump! If mine vrow have seen you drip up mine heels von top
tis floor, un bang mine bump, she would give you fury. I will have te
constobber to take you mit te bost-office. (_TEDDY helps him up._)
TEDDY. I hope you're not hurt, sir. You're mistaken; I'm the servant.
(_brushes him off_) I beg your pardon, sir.
SCHMIDT (L.). You begs mine bardon. Vell, I don't care. Der ish mine
hand. I am John Schmidt, von ter firm of Schmidt, Vondunder, Kelt un
Co., boot un shoes tread finters, un nunder tinks.
TEDDY. I'm here, sir, waiting yer orders. What'll ye have, Mr. John
Smith?
SCHMIDT. I van some lager pier un spretsel--von leetle glass dat ish
not as much as tri cent.
TEDDY. A little glass, Mr. Smith! You have mouth enough to swallow a
hogshead.
[_Exit TEDDY, R._
SCHMIDT. Dat ish funny fellow. He drips up mine heels, un den he pegs
mine bardon; un ven I ask him for tri cent glass lager bier, he say
mine mouth is pig as hogshead mouth. Ven I vash leetle poy, as no
pigger ash dot, ter gals say tat mine mouth ish burty, un mine frow say
tat mine mouth ish burty, un by dinks I dinks so, too.
_Enter MRS. BARRISNOBE, with bier, R._
MRS. B. Your bier, sir.
SCHMIDT. Vot vilst du haben vor tat?
MRS. B. Three cents, sir.
SCHMIDT. Yaw! Ter ish five cent--I will haben two cent change.
MRS. B. Very well, sir; I will send the change.
SCHMIDT. Landlady, have you got von leetle bit onion tat ish notinks,
un tat you will give to me mitout any charges?
MRS. B. Well, that certainly is meanness. I'll see sir, and send the
change.
SCHMIDT. Landlady, I have gone to sleepen, till to-morrow morning. Vot
you ask for un bed?
MRS. B. Four dollars.
SCHMIDT. Four dollars! my Got un hemmel! Why, I gets un bed in Chatham
Street, New York, for swelve un a half cent.
MRS. B. You will remember, sir, you are not in New York; and if you
obtain a bed here, four dollars will be the charge.
SCHMIDT. Landlady, I don't mean ter bed; I only vant sometinks to lay
down mit, un shut mine eyes open--sometinks dat cost not ash moch ash
fifty cent.
MRS. B. There is a room next to my own, which is not occupied, you can
have for four dollars. I'll send your change immediately.
SCHMIDT. Landlady--two cent change.
MRS. B. I remember--_two cents_. That is the meanest man I ever saw.
[_Exit, R._
SCHMIDT. Four dollar for one ped! Tat ish enough to set up von saving
bank, un many saving bank hash got not ash moch as dat.
_Enter PRETTY POLLY with onion, R., she holds it out to him at
arm's length._
POLLY. Here is your onion.
SCHMIDT. Tat ish nice leetle gal. I have got un boy tat ish un gal--she
ish 'pout your age, if she ish older ash you.
POLLY. Why, sir, I am not a _little_ girl--I am nineteen.
SCHMIDT. Never mind; you are nice, good gal, un wen I goes away I will
make you un present.
POLLY. Make _me_ a present, sir?--what?
SCHMIDT. Yaw--of a kiss.
POLLY. Thank you, sir; we ask double for that.
SCHMIDT. Well, I won't take some.
[_Goes up._
POLLY. He's a brute, and has no taste for luxuries.
[_Flounces out._
SCHMIDT (_at table_). Tat was a burty leetle gal, un if she hadn't
charges so moch, I would make her von present mit a kiss before I go.
Tis onion ish ash strong dat if you but him on top tis table for five
minutes, he jumps all round so moch ash like ter spirit-knockers.
_Enter MRS. BARRISNOBE and TEDDY carrying bedstead, which they fix
in position by adjusting the side posts in the two holes sunk in
stage._
MRS. B. Now, Teddy, have you fixed it up nice for the gentleman?
TEDDY. Yes, ma'am.
MRS. B. Then you can go.
[_Exit._
SCHMIDT. Is this my bedroom?
MRS. B. Yes, and you can sleep on that bed for four dollars.
SCHMIDT. That bed? Why, where is the bed?
MRS. B. (_looking over the head-board_). Lor, that is so. Teddy, Teddy!
_Enter TEDDY._
TEDDY. Yes, ma'am.
MRS. B. Why, Teddy, Teddy, you never brought up the feather-bed.
TEDDY (_with surprise_). Lor, sure, where was my head?
[_Exit._
MRS. B. Teddy, have you brought the pillow?
TEDDY. Yes, ma'am; all here, (_he throws them into the bedstead, then
laying himself down, says_) Ah, ah! here, nice, soft, downy bed.
SCHMIDT (_pushing him off_). Hi, you black nigger, get off of my bed!
MRS. B. Yes, sir, you can sleep on that bed for four dollars.
SCHMIDT. I told you that I did not want to buy the bed.
MRS. B. No, I do not want to sell you the bed. I'll let you that bed
one night for four dollars.
SCHMIDT. No, no; me not vont to buy it, me vont it only till the
morning.
MRS. B. Yes, yes; I let you the bed till morning for four dollars.
SCHMIDT. Very well; me tired, cannot stay talking, walked thirty-five
miles; call me in the morning. (_lays himself down on bed._)
MRS. B. At six o'clock?
SCHMIDT. Yaw.
[_Exit MRS. B._
(_SCHMIDT is troubled with the mosquitoes; he rises, shakes the
bed, lies down again, is just boasting that when the morning comes
he'll walk out and forget to pay the four dollars, when he finds
himself disturbed by the black servant._)
TEDDY. I say, you, here!
SCHMIDT (_remaining snugly ensconced in bed_). Well, well; what is it
you want now?
TEDDY. Mrs. Barrisnobe sent me up for that four dollars.
SCHMIDT. What, didn't I pay her?
TEDDY. No, you did not.
SCHMIDT. Well, tell the old woman that I will give her the money in the
morning.
TEDDY. You will pay me four dollars now.
SCHMIDT. No, not till the morning.
TEDDY. I say now.
SCHMIDT. No.
TEDDY. Oh! no, is it? I'll soon show you all about paying that money.
(_exit, and returns with a broomstick, belaboring SCHMIDT all over head
and body, says_) Pay me that money, will you?
SCHMIDT (_springing up from the bed, says_). Oh, yaw, yaw! I'll give
you the four dollars; yaw, yaw, me no stand the clubbing.
TEDDY. Thank you, sar. I'll call you at six in the morning.
SCHMIDT. Got away with yaw six and clubbing.
[_Exit._
_Enter CLOWN._
CLOWN (_entering, gazes at the headboard of the bed, says_). Confound
it! Why don't they mark the numbers plain, so that a fellow can read
them? However, I will wake the man up. (_giving him a shake, says_)
Charley, Charley, wake up.
SCHMIDT (_moving himself on bed restlessly_). What is the matter now?
CLOWN. The matter? Why, we are ordered for an early morning rehearsal.
Get up.
SCHMIDT. I want no hearse; me not dead yet. Go away.
CLOWN. Hearse! Funerals! No. Me and you got to get to the circus and
rehearse the double somersault.
SCHMIDT (_sitting bolt upright in bed, says_). I want no summer suit;
my clothes are right here.
CLOWN. Oh, dear, I made a mistake. I thought you was a clown, and you
are an old Dutchman. Get back into your bed. A thousand pardons.
[_Exit._
SCHMIDT. Confound it! Four dollars for a bed! First that old nigger
comes and gives me a clubbing, then that other white-faced monkey comes
here and wants to know if I want a hearse, a summer suit, then says
it's a beefsteak.
_Enter an IRISHMAN._
PAT (_enters, says_). Ah, this must be the bed. You here, Mike? Mike,
hurry up.
SCHMIDT. Hi, now, vot is all dis trouble about?
PAT. Why, Mike, hurry up; we got to catch the early morning train. We
must start, you know, for Boston, and that right away. Now hurry up.
SCHMIDT. I want no train, no Boston. I paid four dollars for this bed,
and I've had no sleep on it yet.
PAT. Four dollars for that bed? I don't believe it. But, I say, do you
hear, hurry up, no fooling.
SCHMIDT (_rising up_). Are you going to get out of here?
PAT. Oh, dear, I've made a mistake. You are an old Dutchman, and I
after an Irishman. Beg pardon. Will leave you for a good night's rest.
SCHMIDT. Confound them! Another beefsteak! Wonder if I shall get any
sleep before morning!
_Enter the DOCTOR._
DOCTOR (_pushes his head in at the window, says_). I believe this is
Mrs. Barrisnobe's hotel. I will enter by the front door. Ah, this must
be the bed. Come, young man, are you fast asleep?
SCHMIDT. Me asleep? Vot sleep! Paid four dollars for that bed, and have
gotten woken up all dis night long.
DOCTOR. A little of the deliriems-tremins, young man. You are very
sick. You must take some physic. I'm the doctor.
SCHMIDT. Me vants no doctor, no physic; vant to get four dollars worth
out of dis bed.
DOCTOR. But I'm the doctor. I want five dollars.
SCHMIDT. You get right out of here and I'll give you ten dollars in the
morning if you will physic that old nigger down-stairs.
DOCTOR (_retreats, saying_). I see I made a mistake; gone to the wrong
bed.
[_Exit._
SCHMIDT. Another beefsteak. I vonder if any more of 'em is coming up.
Four dollars for dis bed!
_Enter YOUNG LADY with a long nose._
ADELINA (_shows herself at the window, says_). I think my Willie must
be here. I will enter. (_she approaches the bed_) Willie, Willie.
SCHMIDT. Vot matter now? I no Willie.
ADELINA. Willie, what did you run away from me for?
SCHMIDT. Oh, vot a nose!
ADELINA. My nose, sir, is as good as yours, and more, for you have none
at all.
SCHMIDT. Oh, vot a nose. (_he tries to touch the end of it._)
ADELINA (_gets excited, says_). My nose is handsomer than yours. But,
Willie, Willie, what did you run away for?
SCHMIDT. Vot, me run away from you? I vood not run away from a little
girl so high. (_he measures the height with his two hands._)
ADELINA. You promised to marry me, then you run away from me in
Philadelphia.
SCHMIDT. Vot! Me marry you viv that 'ere nose?
ADELINA (_very passionately_). Nose or no nose, I'll not marry you at
all now. You are one nasty, bad man; took me to Philadelphia, promised
to marry me, then ran away. Bad man, bad man. I come right here and
found you out.
[_Exit._
_Enter CAPTAIN BLOWHARD, L., with candle, which is suddenly put out
as he enters._
CAPT. B. I need no light to punish a scoundrel. (_comes up, and strikes
bed with whip--SCHMIDT jumps up_) So, sir, I've found you--you rascally
kidnapper!
SCHMIDT. You are mistaken. I am somebody else.
CAPT. B. I _know_ you are Mr. Brown, and that's sufficient.
SCHMIDT. I am not Brown, I am te original John Schmidt.
CAPT. B. Brown or Smith, did you not decoy Adelina from her father's
arms?
SCHMIDT. Nein.
CAPT. B. Did you not run away with my child?
SCHMIDT. Nein, I never run away nobody.
CAPT. B. Did you not swindle me of a hundred dollars?
SCHMIDT. Nein.
CAPT. B. Are you not a liar?
SCHMIDT. Nein. I never lie but in my bed.
CAPT. B. Is not your name Brown?
SCHMIDT. I dell you I am de original John Schmidt.
CAPT. B. I'll make you confess you are a liar, a swindler, a villain,
and that your name is Brown.
SCHMIDT. Mine Got in Himmel! vot a peoples!
CAPT. B. Now, sir, (_beats him_) are you not a rascal?
SCHMIDT. Nein. (_CAPTAIN beats him_) Yaw! yaw!
CAPT. B. Are you not a swindler? (_beats him._)
SCHMIDT. Nein. I am no swindler. (_CAPTAIN beats him._)
CAPT. B. You are not? (_beats him._)
SCHMIDT. Mine Got in Himmel, yaw, I am a swindler.
CAPT. B. So much, so good.
SCHMIDT. So much, blarney bad.
CAPT. B. Are you not a liar and a villain?
SCHMIDT. Nein. (_CAPTAIN beats him_) Yaw, yaw, I am a Dutch villain,
John Schmidt.
CAPT. B. No, sir, your name is Brown. Are you not Brown?
SCHMIDT. Nein. (_CAPTAIN beats him_) Yaw, yaw, I am black and blue.
CAPT. B. I am satisfied for the present, but I shall send another
injured party to you. So good-night, and pleasant dreams, Mr. Brown.
[_Exit._
SCHMIDT (_sitting up in bed, crying_). Oh! oh! oh! Boo! oo--oo--oo! I
shall die, I shall be killed in dis house. Oh, my poor frow! She will
never see her husband, John Schmidt, not any no more. What will become
of me!
TEDDY (_without, L._). I'll find him, Captain.
SCHMIDT. Te Old Harry, dere is un under one! He sha'n't find John
Schmidt. (_jumps out of bed, finds carpet-bag, goes up to window_) Here
is von window; now I will jump out. (_carpet-bag drops out of his hand.
Crash without_) Dere goes mine carpet-bag; now I will jump out. (_dog
barks_) Now I will _not_ jump out. I will go--I know what I will do. I
will fool them this time. (_he crawls beneath the bed_) I'm right snug
here now, they no find me out.
_Enter POLICEMAN._
OFFICER. This is the hotel. I wonder if I can find the man that robbed
that bank. I'll just search round. Nobody in that bed; wonder if he is
hid beneath the mattress. (_pokes at it with his club_) Sometimes they
conceal themselves beneath the bed itself. I'll just look. (_he looks
beneath_) Oh, here you are, caught at last. (_beats him out of his
concealment with his club_) Did you not rob the Manhattan Bank?
SCHMIDT. No--I robbed nothing.
OFFICER. Did you not run away with the Squire's daughter?
SCHMIDT. No, I ran off with nothin'.
OFFICER. Did you not rob the National Bank?
SCHMIDT. No, I done nothin'.
OFFICER. Nothing, aye. Ah, what do you call nothing? (_he sets to and
gives him a vigorous clubbing_) You didn't rob the bank--aye, aye.
SCHMIDT. Yaw, yaw; hold off, I say. I did rob the bank. Yaw, yaw.
OFFICER (_getting a clearer view of his man, says_). Oh, lor, you are
not the man now, after all. The man that I am after has an Irish pug
nose, and you are an old Dutchman. Get back into your bed. I made a
mistake.
SCHMIDT. Yaw, another beefsteak. Vonder when they'll stop coming and
let von fellow get von little sleep.
_Enter GHOST, who opens and closes his ghostly teeth._.
SCHMIDT. Oh, vot is o'stealing o'er me? I tremble, I shake. Oh, that
clubbing! (_he sees the GHOST; he trembles_) Oh, oh! Four dollars for a
bed in a haunted house.
[_Exit GHOST._
_Enter LAWYER._
SCHMIDT. Now that horrid ghost is gone, vill try and get some sleep.
LAWYER. Mr. Timothy Slobberchops.
SCHMIDT. Vot now--von you another ghost?
LAWYER. No, sir, I be no ghost; I'm a lawyer.
SCHMIDT. I vant no lawyer.
LAWYER. Give me my retainer.
SCHMIDT. Retainer? Vot do yer call that?
LAWYER. Money. Hand me fifty dollars.
SCHMIDT (_with surprise_). Vant fifty dollars? Vot for?
LAWYER. Did you not send for me to get a divorce from your wife?
SCHMIDT (_lies down on his bed_). Diworce from my vife? I got no wife.
I want no retainer; I vant four dollars out of this bed.
LAWYER. I see they have been fooling me. That man hasn't a cent of
money. I'll make tracks.
[_Exit._
SCHMIDT[1] (_now sits up in bed and sings his little song_).
Ven first I leaft dot Farderland,
Or set me out to roam,
My heart was light and happy
As could be.
But now I feel so lonely,
Ven I tink me of my home,
Of dot little Ditcher home
Across der sea.
Vell, I guess dot now I'll lay down till the morning.
_Enter MRS. BARRISNOBE._
SCHMIDT. Veel, I do declare. I've been disturbed all night long with
those black and white ghosts. I must get some sleep, for by and by that
old woman will be coming up.
[Illustration]
MRS. B. (_looking through the window_). Well I never! There is that
Dutchman sleeping now. I'll just go and wake him up. (_she approaches
the bed_) Hi, sir, you, here!
SCHMIDT. Vell, vot is de matter now?
MRS. B. It is seven o'clock, sir.
SCHMIDT. Vell, I paid four dollars for this bed, and I have not had an
inch of sleep out of it yet.
MRS. B. Well, I only let you the bed for one night for four dollars.
SCHMIDT. Vell, you have let those ghosts and fellows trouble me all
night, and I have not had four cents' worth yet.
MRS. B. It is an hour past six, sir.
SCHMIDT. Vell, what of that?
MRS. B. I want you out of here.
SCHMIDT. Not till I've had four dollars' worth.
MRS. B. I'll soon teach you what I mean. Here, Mary, Mary! Come up
directly.
_Enter NEGRESS._
MARY. Yes, ma'am, I'm here.
MRS. B. Fetch that man out of bed.
MARY. What! He in bed yet? I'll soon make him clear. (_exit, and
re-enters with a broomstick, belabors the DUTCHMAN all over, says_) You
get out of this bed, will you? Sharp, quick!
SCHMIDT (_hustles quickly out of the bed_). Vot! Me pay four dollars
for that bed, and have no sleep on it all dis night?
MRS. B. I let you that bed for one night for four dollars, and now it
is time that you was about your business.
SCHMIDT. Vot's that you are saying?
MRS. B. }
MARY. } (_in chorus_). You get out of here, mighty quick.
SCHMIDT. Four dollars for a bed! Then I takes it along with me. (_he
lays hold of and removes the bed, but MARY and MRS. B. force it from
him, and whilst they are depositing it below, he tugs at the bedstead,
removing it, says_) I'll take this along. (_MARY and SCHMIDT combat for
the possession of it, to and fro from end to end of the stage. MARY at
last succeeds in removing it below. SCHMIDT, however, remains, singing_)
Four dollars for a sleep,
In dis haunted hotel,
Clubbed and waken'd up,
All the long, long night through.
MARY (_returns with a broomstick, vigorously belabors SCHMIDT, who is
glad to beat a hasty retreat, saying_) I never vill vant to take four
dollars' worth at dis hotel when I come dis way again.
[_Exit._
The Negro here pops his head above the stage, announces that the next
show will take place in the course of fifteen minutes, with a change of
programme.
ACT IV.
[Illustration: SCARAMOUCH AND HIS FIDDLE.]
_Enter SCARAMOUCH._
(_PUNCH, alarmed at the appearance of SCARAMOUCH, retreats round
the corner of the stage._)
SCARA. Mr. Punch, Mr. Punch!
PUNCH (_approaching nearer_). Mr. Scaramouch, what have you there?
SCARA. This, Mr. Punch, is my fiddle.
PUNCH. Call that a fiddle?
SCARA. Yes, it's a real beauty.
PUNCH. If it's a fiddle, why don't you play a tune?
SCARA. That is just what I'm going to do. Thum, thum. Tum, tum, tum.
Bing, bing, bing, bing.
PUNCH. Surely you don't call that a tune? Why, I could do better than
that.
SCARA. (_gives PUNCH the fiddle_). Then let me hear you.
PUNCH. Thum. Tum. Thum. Tum. (_he strikes SCARAMOUCH blows on the back
of the head, saying_) Bing, bing, bing, bing.
SCARA. Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Mr. Punch, I'll have no more of that.
[_Exit SCARAMOUCH._
[Illustration]
_Enter POLLY, very gayly dressed._
POLLY. Where is my father? my dear father!
PUNCH (_aside_). What a beauty!
POLLY. Who killed my poor father? Oh! Oh! (_cries_.)
PUNCH. 'Twas I.
POLLY. Oh! Cruel wretch, why did you kill my father?
PUNCH. For your sake, my love.
POLLY. Oh, you barbarian!
PUNCH. Don't cry so, my dear. You will cry your pretty eyes out, and
that would be a pity.
POLLY. Oh, oh! How could you kill him?
PUNCH. He would not let me have you, and so I killed him. If you take
on so, I must cry too--Oh, oh! (_pretending to weep_) How sorry I am!
POLLY. And are you really sorry?
PUNCH. Yes, very sorry--look how I cry.
POLLY (_aside_). What a handsome young man. It is a pity he should cry
so. How the tears run down his beautiful long nose! (_aloud_) Did you
kill my father out of love of me, and are you sorry? If you are sorry,
I must forgive you.
PUNCH. I could kill myself for love of you, much more your father.
POLLY. Do you then really love me?
PUNCH. I do! I do!
POLLY. Then I must love you!
(_Then they embrace, kiss and dance. The whole scene, barring the
dancing, seems modelled upon the interview between Richard III. and
Lady Anne. PUNCH sings._)
I love you so, I love you so,
I never will leave you; no, no, no:
If I had all the wives of wise King Sol,
I would kill them all for my pretty Poll.
[_Exeunt dancing._
_Enter PUNCH, with a large sheep-bell, which he rings violently,
and dances about the stage, shaking the bell and his head at the
same time, and accompanying the music with his voice;--tune,
"_Morgiana in Ireland_."_
Mr. Punch is a very gay man,
He is the fellow the ladies for winning, oh;
Let them do whatever they can,
They never can stand his talking and grinning, oh.
_Enter a SERVANT, in a foreign livery._
SERVANT. Mr. Punch, my master, he say he no like dat noise.
PUNCH (_with surprise, and mocking him_). Your master, he say he no
like that noise! What noise?
SERVANT. Dat nasty noise.
PUNCH. Do you call music a noise?
SERVANT. My master he no lika de music, Mr. Punch, so he'll have no
more noise near his house.
PUNCH. He don't, don't he? Very well. (_PUNCH runs about the stage,
ringing his bell as loudly as he can._)
SERVANT. Get away, I say, wid dat nasty bell.
PUNCH. What bell?
SERVANT. That bell. (_striking it with his hand._)
PUNCH. That's a good one. Do you call this a bell? (_patting it_) It is
an organ.
SERVANT. I say it is a bell, a nasty bell.
PUNCH. I say it is an organ. (_striking him with it_) What you say it
is now?
SERVANT. An organ, Mr. Punch.
PUNCH. An organ? I say it is a fiddle. Can't you see? (_offers to
strike him again._)
[Illustration]
SERVANT. It is a fiddle.
PUNCH. I say it is a drum.
SERVANT. It is a drum, Mr. Punch.
PUNCH. I say it is a trumpet.
SERVANT. Well, so it is a trumpet. But bell, organ, fiddle, drum or
trumpet, my master, he say he no lika de music.
PUNCH. Then bell, organ, fiddle, drum or trumpet, Mr. Punch, he say
your master is a fool.
SERVANT. And he say, too, he will not have it near his house.
PUNCH. He's a fool, I say, not to like my sweet music. Tell him so: be
off. (_hits him with the bell_) Get along. (_driving the SERVANT round
the stage, backwards, and striking him often with the bell_) Be off,
be off. (_knocking him off the stage. Exit SERVANT. PUNCH continues to
ring the bell as loudly as before, while he sings and dances._)
_Re-enter SERVANT, slyly, with a stick._
(_PUNCH perceiving him, retreats behind the side curtain, and
remains upon the watch. The SERVANT does the same, but leaves the
end of the stick visible. PUNCH again comes forward, sets down his
bell very gently, and creeps across the stage, marking his steps
with his hands upon the platform, to ascertain whereabouts his
enemy is. He then returns to his bell, takes it up, and, going
quietly over the stage, hits the SERVANT a heavy blow through the
curtain, and exit, ringing his bell on the opposite side._)
SERVANT. You one nasty, noisy, impudent blackguard. Me catch you yet.
(_hides again as before._)
(_Enter PUNCH, and strikes him as before with the bell. The SERVANT
pops out, and aims a blow, but not quickly enough to hit PUNCH, who
exit._)
SERVANT. You scoundrel, rascal, vagabond, blackguard and liar, you
shall pay for this, depend upon it.
(_He stands back. Enter PUNCH, with his bell, who, seeing the
SERVANT with his stick, retreats instantly, and returns, also armed
with a bludgeon, which he does not at first show. The SERVANT comes
forward, and strikes PUNCH on the head so hard a blow that it seems
to confuse him._)
SERVANT. Me teach you how to ring your nasty, noisy bell near de
gentil-men's houses.
PUNCH (_recovering_). Two can play at that. (_hits the SERVANT with his
stick. A conflict--after a long struggle, during which the combatants
exchange staves, and perform various maneuvers, PUNCH gains the
victory, and knocks his antagonist down on the platform, by repeated
blows on the head._)
SERVANT. Oh, dear! Oh, my head!
PUNCH. And oh, your tail, too. (_hitting him there_) How do you like
that, and that, and that? (_hitting him each time_) Do you like that
music better than the other? This is my bell, (_hits_) this my organ,
(_hits_) this my fiddle, (_hits_) this my drum, (_hits_) and this my
trumpet, (_hits_) there! A whole concert for you.
SERVANT. No more! me dead.
PUNCH. Quite dead?
SERVANT. Yes, quite.
PUNCH. Then there's the last for luck. (_hits him and kills him. He
then takes hold of the body by its legs, swings it round two or three
times, and throws it away._)
_Enter an old BLIND MAN, feeling his way with a staff; he goes to
the opposite side, when he knocks._
BLIND MAN. Poor blind man, Mr. Punch; I hope you'll bestow your
charity; I hear that you are very good and kind to the poor, Mr. Punch;
pray have pity upon me, and may you never know the loss of your tender
eyes! (_listens, putting his ear to the side, and hearing nobody coming
knocks again_) I lost my sight by the sands in Egypt; poor blind man.
Pray, Mr. Punch, have compassion upon the poor stone blind. (_coughs,
and spits over the side_) Only a halfpenny to buy something for my bad
cough. Only one halfpenny. (_knocks again._)
_Enter PUNCH, and receives one of the knocks, intended for the
door, upon his head._
PUNCH. Hollo! you old blind blackguard, can't you see?
BLIND MAN. No, Mr. Punch. Pray, sir, bestow your charity upon a poor
blind man, with a bad cough. (_coughs._)
PUNCH. Get along, get along; don't trouble me: nothing for you.
BLIND MAN. Only a half-penny! Oh, dear! my cough is so bad! (_coughs
and spits in PUNCH'S face._)
PUNCH. Hollo! Was my face the dirtiest place you could find to spit in?
Get away! you nasty old blackguard! Get away! (_seizes the BLIND MAN'S
staff, and knocks him off the stage. PUNCH hums a tune, and dances to
it; and then begins to sing, in the mock Italian style, the following
words, pretending to play the fiddle on his arm, with the stick_)
When I think on you, my jewel,
Wonder not my heart is sad;
You're so fair, and yet so cruel,
You're enough to drive me mad.
On thy lover take some pity,
And relieve his bitter smart.
Think you Heaven has made you pretty
But to break your lover's heart?
[Illustration]
ACT V.
SCENE.--_The Prison House._
_Enter a CONSTABLE._
CONSTABLE. Leave off your singing, Mr. Punch, for I've come to make you
sing on the wrong side of your mouth.
PUNCH. Why, who the devil are you?
CONSTABLE. Don't you know me?
PUNCH. No, and don't want to know you.
CONSTABLE. Oh, but you must: I am the constable.
PUNCH. And who sent for you?
CONSTABLE. I am sent for you.
PUNCH. I don't want constable. I can settle my own business without
constable, I thank you. I don't want constable.
CONSTABLE. But the constable wants you.
PUNCH. The dickens he does! What for, pray?
CONSTABLE. You killed Mrs. Punch. You knocked her head off her
shoulders.
PUNCH. What's that to you? If you stay here much longer, I'll serve you
the same.
CONSTABLE. Don't tell me. You have committed murder, and I've a warrant
for you.
PUNCH. And I've a warrant for you. (_PUNCH knocks him down, and dances
and sings about the stage, to the tune of "_Green grow the Rushes O_."_)
_Enter an OFFICER, in a cocked hat with a cockade, and a long
pigtail._
OFFICER. Stop your noise, my fine fellow.
PUNCH. Shan't.
OFFICER. I'm an officer.
PUNCH. Very well. Did I say you were not?
OFFICER. You must go with me. You killed your wife and child.
PUNCH. They were my own, I suppose; and I had a right to do what I
liked with them.
OFFICER. We shall see that. I'm come to take you up.
PUNCH. And I'm come to take you down. (_PUNCH knocks him down, and
sings and dances as before._)
_Enter JACK KETCH, in a fur cap. PUNCH, while dancing, runs up
against him without seeing him._
PUNCH (_with some symptoms of alarm_). My dear sir, I beg you one
thousand pardons: very sorry.
J. KETCH. Aye, you'll be sorry enough before I've done with you. Don't
you know me?
PUNCH. Oh, sir, I know you very well, and I hope you very well, and
Mrs. Ketch very well.
J. KETCH. Mr. Punch, you're a very bad man. Why did you kill Mrs. Punch?
PUNCH. In self-defence.
J. KETCH. That won't do.
PUNCH. She wanted to kill me.
J. KETCH. How?
PUNCH. With a stick.
J. KETCH. That's all gammon. You must come to prison; my name's Ketch.
PUNCH. _Ketch_ that then. (_PUNCH knocks down JACK KETCH, and continues
to dance and sing._)
_Re-enter JACK KETCH._
J. KETCH. Mr. Punch, there is your gallows and likewise--(_retreats
below._)
PUNCH. What do you call a likewise?
J. KETCH.[2] There is your coffin.
PUNCH. What that for, I wonder? Oh, dear, I see now: what one fool I
was! That is large basket for the fruit be put into. (_he takes up
coffin, runs with it two circles round the stage and slams it down on
to KETCH'S head, depositing it with a bang down on to the stage._)
J. KETCH (_adjusting the rope of the gallows_). Mr. Punch, step this
way and have some dinner!
PUNCH. Much obliged Mr. Ketch, but I have already taken dinner.
J. KETCH. Come, then, and have some nice ice-cream.
PUNCH. Thank you, Mr. Ketch, I don't take ice now; it is too cold.
J. KETCH. Then come and have a good supper.
PUNCH. I never eat suppers; they are not wholesome.
J. KETCH. Then step this way and be hanged.
PUNCH. I'll be hanged if I will.
J. KETCH. Come directly.
PUNCH. I can't; I've got one bone in my leg.
[Illustration]
J. KETCH. And you've got one bone in your neck which must soon be
broken; but no more delay, Mr. Punch; put your head through this loop.
PUNCH. Through there? What for?
J. KETCH. Aye, through there. (_he holds the loop open._)
PUNCH. What for? I don't know how.
J. KETCH. It is very easy: only put your head through here.
PUNCH. What, so? (_poking his head on one side of the noose._)
J. KETCH. No, no, here!
PUNCH. So, then? (_poking his head on the other side._)
J. KETCH. Not so, you fool.
PUNCH. Mind who you call fool: try if you can do it yourself. Only show
me how, and I do it directly.
J. KETCH. Very well; I will. There, you stand just there and mind
don't you move. (_he places PUNCH against the side-post of the stage_)
Remember that you are not to move.
PUNCH. Oh, no; I'll never move.
J. KETCH (_about to put his head through the loop, noticing a little
movement in PUNCH, says_) Ah, you moved.
PUNCH. Oh, no; I never moved.
J. KETCH. Now, Mr. Punch, you see my head, and you see this loop. Put
it in so. (_putting his head through the noose._)
PUNCH. And pull it tight--so! (_he pulls the rope forcibly down, and
hangs JACK KETCH_) Huzza! Huzza!
J. KETCH (_wriggling his arms and body vigorously about_). Golly,
golly, Mr. Punch, what are you doing? Leave go the end of that rope.
PUNCH. Not if I knows it. I say, old boy, how do you feel? (_KETCH
ceases his struggling, and dies. PUNCH leaves his body hanging and
calls_) Joey! Joey!
_Enter JOEY._
JOEY. Why, Massa Punch, ye have been and hung the sheriff.
PUNCH. I know it. He wanted to hang me, and so I hung him.
JOEY. Was that so? Well, what are we to do with him now?
PUNCH. Take him down.
JOEY. That is so, Massa Punch. We will take his dead body down. (_they
take him down, and remove the gallows._)
PUNCH. Put him in his coffin.
JOEY. Good, Mr. Punch. But why, massa, they have not made the coffin
long enough!
PUNCH. Double him up.
JOEY. Ah! that is so. We will double him up. But, Massa Punch, he'll
not go in the coffin now.
PUNCH. Well, ram him down. (_PUNCH fetches his club, and tucks him down
and in._)
JOEY. And, massa, what will you do with him now?
PUNCH. Take him below. Lift.
JOEY. Oh, yes, massa; take him below--I lift (_PUNCH lifts his end of
the coffin several inches above the stage; but JOEY is dancing at the
other end._)
PUNCH. Why don't you lift?
JOEY. Oh, yes, massa; me lift my end up. (_but he still fools at
lifting as before, whilst PUNCH raises his end high up._)
PUNCH. I say--are you going to lift?
JOEY. Oh, yes, massa; we'll both lift.
PUNCH. Lift, will you? (_PUNCH fetches his club, and gives JOEY three
cracks on the head; repeats_) Lift, will you?
JOEY. Oh, yes, yes, Massa Punch! me will lift now--right away now.
(_they raise the coffin, and carry it twice from end to end of the
stage, singing_) Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust!
[_Exeunt, with coffin._
_Re-enter PUNCH, who sings_:
They're out, they're out! I've done the trick!
Jack Ketch is dead--I'm free;
I do not care, now, if Old Nick
Himself should come for me.
(_Goes off, and returns with a stick. He dances about beating time
on the front of the stage, and singing to the tune of "_Green grow
the rushes O_"_)
Right foll de riddle loll,
I'm the boy to do 'em all.
Here's a stick
To thump Old Nick,
If he, by chance, upon me call.
_Enter the DEMON. He just peeps in at the corner of the stage, and
exit._
PUNCH (_much frightened, and retreating as far as he can_). Oh, dear!
Oh, Lord! Talk of the demon, and he pops up his horns. There the old
gentleman is, sure enough. (_a pause, and dead silence, whilst PUNCH
continues to gaze at the spot where the DEMON appeared. The DEMON comes
forward_) Good, kind Mr. Demon, I never did you any harm, but all
the good in my power. There--don't come any nearer. How you do, sir?
(_collecting courage_) I hope you and all your respectable family well?
Much obliged for this visit. Good-morning! Should be sorry to keep you,
for I know you have a great deal of business when you come to this
city. (_the DEMON advances_) Oh, dear! What will become of me!
(_The DEMON darts at PUNCH, who escapes, and aims a blow at his
enemy; the DEMON eludes it, as well as many others, laying his head
on the platform, and slipping it rapidly backwards and forwards,
so that PUNCH, instead of striking him, only repeatedly hits the
boards._)
[_Exit DEMON._
PUNCH. He, he, he! (_laughing_) He's off! He knew which side his bread
buttered on. He one deep, cunning devil.
(_PUNCH is alarmed by hearing a strange, supernatural, whirring
noise, something like the rapid motion of fifty spinning wheels,
and again retreats to the corner, fearfully waiting the event._)
[Illustration]
_Re-enter the DEMON, with a stick. He makes up to PUNCH, who
retreats round the back of the stage, and they stand eyeing one
another, and fencing at opposite sides. At last the DEMON makes a
blow at PUNCH, which tells on the back of his head._
PUNCH. Oh, my head! What is that for? Pray, Mr. Demon, let us be
friends. (_the DEMON hits him again, and PUNCH begins to take it in
dudgeon, and to grow angry_) Why, you must be one very stupid demon not
to know your best friend when you see him. (_the DEMON hits him again_)
Be quiet, I say, you hurt me! Well, if you won't, we must try which is
the best man--Punch or the Demon.
(_Here commences a terrific combat between the DEMON and PUNCH; in
the beginning, the latter has much the worst of it, being hit by
his black adversary when and where he pleases. At last the DEMON
seems to grow weary, and PUNCH succeeds in planting several heavy
blows. The balance being restored, the fight is kept up for some
time, and, towards the conclusion, PUNCH has the decided advantage,
and drives his enemy before him. The DEMON is stunned by repeated
blows on the head and horns, and falls forward on the platform,
where PUNCH completes his victory, and knocks the breath out of
his body. PUNCH then puts his staff up the DEMON'S black clothes,
and whirls him round in the air, exclaiming: "_Huzza! huzza! the
Demon's dead!_"_)
[Illustration]
ACT VI.
THE SINKING SHIP.
SCENE.--_The Sea, with waves in motion._
_Enter NEGRO._
NEGRO. Ship ahoy! Ship ahoy!
DUTCHMAN. What was that you were saying?
NEGRO (_points across the sea_). Don't you see that 'ere?
DUTCHMAN. Yaw! I see the sea.
NEGRO. Yah; but I mean that 'ere--right o'er there.
DUTCHMAN. Yaw! so now I do; but, lor, I've no telescope. What do you
think it is?
NEGRO. Big ship! big ship! Maybe a man-o'-war.
DUTCHMAN. Do you think she's a-coming this way?
NEGRO. I do.
_Enter IRISHMAN._
IRISHMAN. Arrah, my boys, glad you're here. Have you seen a steamship
come along?
DUTCHMAN. Vell, yes; von in the distance--right over there.
IRISHMAN. Arrah, that is good! My old lady will be pleased now.
DUTCHMAN. Vy, Paddy, vot great event is on now?
IRISHMAN. Nothing, only my wife made me send over to old Ireland for
her mother to come on, and she hurried me off this morning to look out
for the good ship.
DUTCHMAN. I congratulate you, my boy. Going to have a mother-in-law to
take care of thee.
IRISHMAN. Arrah, my friend, you try to strike me hard; but, you bet,
I'll make it warm if the old lady don't provide me with a latch-key.
DUTCHMAN. Never mind for this von leetle bit o' chaff, Come with me,
and take a little refreshment.
IRISHMAN. But I have to wait for the ship.
DUTCHMAN. That yon ship vill not be here for von whole hour yet. Come,
now; thou hast time.
IRISHMAN. Arrah, well said! But what are those black clouds I see?
DUTCHMAN. See yon ship taking in her canvas. Hurry, before we are taken
in the storm ourselves.
[_Exeunt._
[Illustration]
(_The waves of the artificial sea are now set in motion. Ship
enters at the left side, and slowly sails twice across. On its
third sail the ship is met by a Steamer, coming in an opposite
direction. Voices are heard--"_Hard a-port! Where are you coming
to?_" The Ship and Steamer collide together; voices are again
heard--"_We are sinking! Get out the life-boat!_" The sails of the
Sailing[3]Ship become ruffled up, and the Ship gradually sinks
beneath the waves--the Steamer passes along uninjured._)
_Enter DUTCHMAN._
DUTCHMAN. Yaw, yaw, that vessel is now no more.
IRISHMAN. Arrah, I say, is that ship come in yet?
DUTCHMAN. Ship come in! Vot, have you not heard the news?
IRISHMAN. News! What news?
DUTCHMAN. That ship has sunk--gone to the very bottom.
IRISHMAN. What! With all on board?
DUTCHMAN. Yes; all are drowned.
IRISHMAN. Then my wife's mother is gone, too. (_he puts his hands up to
his face and cries._)
DUTCHMAN. Vot! Crying because you've lost your mother-in-law?
IRISHMAN. No, friend, it is not that; but maybe when I tell my ole
woman she'll be arter going frantic, and clubbing my head off.
DUTCHMAN. Nonsense! I'll come with you, and gradually break the sad,
sad news.
[_Exeunt._
[Illustration]
THE BLACK JUDGE.
SCENE.--_The Prison-House._
_Enter two men who fix the JUDGE'S bench in the hole used for the
gallows. PRISONERS' pen in the centre; LAWYERS' table on the left
of stage._
[_Exit._
_JUDGE enters--takes his stand at the bench._
JUDGE. I have to inform my learned friends that the judge that should
have been here, by the advice of his physician has left this day for
Europe, and I will hold Court until his return.
[Illustration]
LAWYER. What! A black Justice to hold Court?
JUDGE. Yes; I sit here to-day.
LAWYER. I object to your jurisdiction.
JUDGE. The Court overrules your objection, and fines you ten cigars for
contempt of Court. Call the docket. Is it large? Where are the officers?
_Enter COURT OFFICER._
OFFICER. Your Honor, there are several cases set down for trial.
JUDGE. Call the first that is guilty.
LAWYER. Michael Doolittle.
OFFICER. Michael Doolittle. (_goes for him, and marches him into the
pen._)
JUDGE. What is the charge?
LAWYER. Highway robbery.
JUDGE. Highway robbery! What is that?
LAWYER. Stealing from the person--taking the prosecutor's watch--his
golden time-keeper.
JUDGE. Prisoner, what have you to say in mitigation of the sentence of
the Court, pertaining to this heinous, serious charge?
PRISONER. I was guilty, your Honor, but that 'ere man (_points to the
prosecutor_) came alone, and placed himself in my way.
JUDGE. Prisoner, is that your only defence? Were you hungry--were you
hard up?
PRISONER. Had not one dime to rub against another.
JUDGE. The decision of this honorable Court is----
LAWYER (_interrupting_). Your Honor, so far from being hungry, he had
on him--his person--a massive silver watch and a diamond ring.
JUDGE. What! Prisoners wear diamond rings?
LAWYER. Just the truth, your Honor.
JUDGE. Prisoner, look on the Court. You, having pleaded guilty to this
most heinous, serious charge, the Court decides that you be taken back
to jail, the diamond ring confiscated for the Court's own use, you to
deliver up both watches to the prosecutor, and be by him sentenced to
work at hard labor as many days as he may see fit.
[_Exit PRISONER._
JUDGE. Call the next case.
LAWYER. The next, your Honor, is an outfall betwixt a butcher and a
baker.
JUDGE. A cat-fall between a butcher and a baker! How did that happen?
LAWYER. An outfall, your Honor--a misunderstanding--a fight.
JUDGE. Let them come into Court.
OFFICER (_calls_). Herman Kahlesole and William Paul. (_he brings them
in and places in pen._)
JUDGE. What is this grave charge all about?
LAWYER. Nothing grave, your Honor. It appears that this butcher, on
leaving his store, stepped on a piece of fat, and fell with a quarter
of beef. Paul, the baker, laughed at him. The butcher got angry, and so
they set to punching one another's heads.
JUDGE. What! Punch one another's heads after the spill of a quartet of
beef?
LAWYER. Just the history, Judge. I am instructed to recommend them to
the merciful consideration of the Court.
JUDGE. Kahlesole, you have heard the charge against you, and the
recommendation of your counsel. Are you ready to bury the hatchet?
BUTCHER. Vat! Mine ax? Nein, nein.
JUDGE. I mean to make peace and shake hands.
BUTCHER. Vell, vell, I will; but dot goesh against mine constitution.
(_they shake hands and depart._)
JUDGE. What is the next charge?
LAWYER. Intoxication.
JUDGE. Inoculation! Is that anything good to eat?
LAWYER. No, your Honor; I said intoxication--too much whisky.
JUDGE. Oh! I do comprehend. Call the wine-barrel in.
OFFICER (_calls_). Oscar Hubbs, this way in.
JUDGE. Hubbs, you were found drunk last night. What have you to say?
HUBBS. As long as the fox runs, he gets catched at last.
JUDGE. Does the fox ever have a ten-dollar note?
HUBBS. Sometimes; but not now.
JUDGE. You can go this time; but don't get into this fox-hole again.
[_Exit HUBBS._
JUDGE. What is the next charge?
LAWYER. Bigamy.
JUDGE. Bigger than me! How--in bad deeds?
LAWYER (_chuckling with laughter_). No; bigamy--a man that has married
six wives.
JUDGE (_in astonishment_). Six wives! Are any of them in Court?
LAWYER. Yes; there are four here.
JUDGE. So the remaining two have gotten him here to be kept out of the
four's way. I condemn the prisoner to be given up to the custody of
the four, and if either is like mine at home, he will have punishment
enough. Call the next case.
OFFICER (_calls and shows into pen_). Timothy Garpickle.
JUDGE. What is the charge?
LAWYER. Robbing hen-roosts.
JUDGE. Robbing her roasts! Roast what?
LAWYER. Hen-roosts--taking away the eggs and young chickens.
JUDGE. Prisoner, what have you got to say to the charge?
PRISONER. Guilty.
JUDGE. Clear him out; we'll stand no blarney fooling here. The Court
and learned counsel will take a recess for luncheon.
[_Exit LAWYER._
(_Voices are now heard from without. Two men, with sticks, enter,
and demand an interview with the JUDGE. The OFFICER attempts to
disarm them of their weapons. A lively fight ensues, during which
the stage is cleared of its LAWYERS' table, PRISONERS' pen and
JUDGE'S box. The fight continuing, the JUDGE and COURT OFFICER at
last succeed in causing the two pugilists to beat a hasty retreat._)
* * * * *
The above Drama has been arranged for acting on the Punch and Judy
stage. For the parlor acting Drama, which is on a more extended scale,
send 15 cents to the publisher, for a copy of the "Dutch Justice."
[Illustration]
[4]Mr. Punch and the Great $25,000 Box Trick.
[Illustration]
_Enter FOREIGNER and MR. PUNCH._
FOREIGNER. Mr. Punch, have you heard the news?
PUNCH. News! What news?
FOREIGNER. Why, my boss has received from Europe a great
twenty-five-thousand-dollar box.
PUNCH (_with a gesticulation of surprise, says_). I don't believe it.
FOREIGNER. It is all true, and he has left me in charge of it.
PUNCH. Is that so? Well, what is there inside that box?
FOREIGNER. Oh, I don't exactly know; but lots of funny things, alive, I
think.
PUNCH. Well, suppose you bring it up, and let's see what it looks like.
FOREIGNER. Ah! so I will; but mind, you mustn't raise the lid up.
PUNCH. All right; go ahead--bring it up. (_PUNCH commences to dance
with delight._)
FOREIGNER. Yes, yes, it shall be brought up, but you must come down and
help me, it is so heavy. (_PUNCH disappears, following the FOREIGNER._)
_Re-enter FOREIGNER and PUNCH, bearing box. They fix it in
position._
FOREIGNER. Now mind, Mr. Punch, you are not to touch that box.
PUNCH (_dances up and down the stage in high glee; peeps round, and
looks at front of box, says_). Oh, no; I not touch it.
FOREIGNER. Now, Mr. Punch, I am going away; but remember, you are not
to touch that box.
[_Exit FOREIGNER._
PUNCH. Oh, no; I not touch it. (_he taps, however, at side of box, and
darts away, dancing._)
FOREIGNER (_returning_). Ah! Now, Mr. Punch, I saw you touching that
box.
PUNCH. Oh, no! me no go near it.
FOREIGNER. Now remember, Mr. Punch, if you go touching or opening that
box, the little dog may wake up and bite.
PUNCH (_continuing his dance to and fro, says_). I not touch box; you
can go away. (_FOREIGNER disappears._)
(_PUNCH, getting curious, remarks: "_I'd like to see what is inside
that box._" Attempts to raise the lid, but is startled by a yell.
Box flies open, and the little Dog pops his head and forepaws out;
tries to get a grip at PUNCH, which he partially succeeds in. PUNCH
squeals, and gets away; cautiously carries on a combat, ending in
the little Dog being driven down, the lid of the box closing on
him. MR. PUNCH, congratulating himself that there are no more foes,
is startled by hearing a roaring sound, and, on attempting to open
the lid, shows alarm at the appearance of his SATANIC MAJESTY._)
DEMON. Mr. Punch, I'm from the infernal regions.
PUNCH. Well, what of that?
DEMON. I've come to take you below with me.
PUNCH. I don't know so much about that.
DEMON. Yes, Mr. Punch, your time is up; you have to come with me.
PUNCH. Then we'll fight.
(_PUNCH and the DEMON have a very smart combat, during which the
DEMON nearly succeeds in drawing MR. PUNCH down the box. PUNCH
squeals, and wriggles himself away, afterwards taking care not
to approach too near, to be again grasped by his MAJESTY; sets
to making a vigorous attack, ending by driving the DEMON down
the box. PUNCH is now greatly elated over his triumphal battle
with the DEMON; darts quickly from corner to corner of the stage;
then showing himself at the centre, approaches the box, raises
up the lid, looks within, says: "_I see there is nothing more in
there, and being all safe, think that I will now take a nap._"
He lies down on the stage, his head towards the box. He is soon
disturbed by the appearance of a wide-mouthed Snake, who tries to
gulp him down. PUNCH, escaping, and emboldened with the success
over his former foes, shows fight. Snake nips him, but he again
escapes. PUNCH is much put about by the appearance, also, of a
huge Crocodile on the opposite end of the stage. Finding the
chances of victory going against him, he calls out for JOEY, who,
appearing, is seized by the Crocodile. PUNCH forces him away,
and, in his excitement, places him in the way of the wide-mouthed
Snake, who gulps at him, and draws him down the box out of sight.
Snake, reappearing, lays hold of MR. PUNCH, draws him squealing,
headforemost, down the box, the Crocodile assisting by snapping at
MR. PUNCH'S legs as they are disappearing from view. The Crocodile
plunges round about and over the front of the stage, but finding
nothing more to snap at, also disappears from view._)
[Illustration]
[Illustration: THE VENTRILOQUIAL CHAMPIONS
COPYRIGHT]
DIALOGUE
FOR A PAIR OF
VENTRILOQUIAL CHAMPIONS.
_See Illustration._
PERFORMER. Well, my little boys, can you talk?
JOEY. Yes; I can talk.
FREDDY. And I can talk, too.
PERF. Since you can talk, will you please tell me your names?
FRED. Well, my name is Freddy.
JOEY. And call me Joey.
PERF. Well, Joey, how do you feel?
JOEY. Well, I don't feel very well.
PERF. Don't feel very well?
JOEY. No.
PERF. What appears to be the matter with you?
JOEY. Well, I was out in the rain, and I caught cold.
PERF. Out in the rain and caught cold?
JOEY. Yes.
FRED. I say, Mr. Valentine.
PERF. Yes, Freddy.
FRED. What good is the rain?
PERF. What good is the rain!
FRED. Yes.
PERF. The rain, my boy, has a tendency of bringing everything up from
the ground.
JOEY. Well I hope it won't bring my old woman up.
PERF. (_with surprise_). What? Your old woman! You don't mean to say
you were ever married!
JOEY. Yes, I was, once.
PERF. You are but a little boy. You don't look old enough to have been
ever married.
JOEY. I am older than you think I am.
PERF. How old a man are you?
JOEY. I am more than twenty years old.
PERF. Do you pretend to say that you were born twenty years ago?
JOEY. I do.
PERF. I don't believe it.
JOEY (_looks in PERFORMER'S face_). Was you there?
PERF. No.
JOEY. Well, I was.
PERF. Then, if you was there, you must know all about it.
JOEY. I do.
PERF. You are a pretty good speller, are you not, Joey?
JOEY. Yes, and I can count, too.
PERF. You can count! I'll just try you. What do two and two make?
JOEY. Please to give me a harder one than that.
PERF. Four and four?
JOEY. Eight.
PERF. Twice eight?
JOEY. Sixteen.
PERF. Ten and ten?
JOEY. Twenty.
PERF. Good, so far, Joey, but I shall catch you soon.
JOEY. No, you won't.
PERF. Well, we shall see. Twice eleven?
JOEY. Twenty.
PERF. Wrong. Ah, Joey! I've caught you this time. Twice ten was twenty.
JOEY. And twice eleven is twenty, too (two).
PERF. Right, Joey; you are getting smart. Can you spell milk?
JOEY. You must show me how.
PERF. Will soon do that. M-i-l-k.
JOEY. Milk.
PERF. No; I want you to spell it.
JOEY. M-i-l-k, milk.
PERF. I will try you on another. Spell sugar.
JOEY. S-e-g-a-r, segar.
PERF. That's wrong. Not segar--sugar, I want you to spell.
JOEY. That was right. S-e-g-a-r, segar.
PERF. No, no! What does my wife put in my tea in the morning?
JOEY. Ah! now I know. Whisky. Is that what it spells?
PERF. (_waiting a few seconds for the applause to quiet down, says_).
Smart again, Joey. I'll try you yet on another. Constantinople.
JOEY. Oh, Jerushua! What an hard 'un!
PERF. Well, Joey, I will help you. Now, right after me. Con.
JOEY. Con.
PERF. Stan.
JOEY. Stan.
PERF. Ti.
JOEY. Ti.
PERF. No.
JOEY. No.
PERF. Ple.
JOEY. Ple.
PERF. Constantinople.
JOEY. Constable.
PERF. That was wrong. Constantinople--not constable.
JOEY. Well, that isn't the way we spelt it when I went to school.
PERF. Well how did you spell it, then?
JOEY. We spelt it in this way: Con, with a stan, with a t, with a ti,
with a tipple, with a tople, with a Constantinople.
PERF. Good, Mr. Joey! After that we----
FRED. (_interrupting_). I say, Mr. Valentine?
PERF. Yes, Freddy.
FRED. Do you know that Joe went down-town and knocked down an old woman
near sixty years old?
PERF. He did!
FRED. Yes, he did.
JOEY. Yes, and I would have knocked her down if she had been an hundred
and sixty years old.
PERF. (_giving JOEY a box on the ear_). Now, you would do no such thing.
JOEY. Yes, I would.
PERF. Now, Joey, what was your father?
JOEY. Well they say that he was a good man.
PERF. I mean, what trade was he?
JOEY. My father, sir, was a glazier.
PERF. A glazier?
JOEY. Yes; and pray, Mr. Valentine, what was your father?
PERF. My father, sir, was a gentleman.
JOEY. A gentleman?
PERF. Yes.
JOEY. Then how was it, Mr. Valentine, that he did not make a gentleman
of you?
PERF. Joey, you are getting a little too personal. (_turns to FREDDY_)
Now, Freddy, what were you doing over the bridge last night?
FRED. I went over to see my girl.
PERF. And did you see her?
FRED. The old people would not let me into the house.
PERF. Well, what did you do?
FRED. I stood under a tree.
PERF. What happened then?
FRED. I got wet all over.
PERF. Well, I suppose that it rained.
FRED. No, not that. Some say that it was perspiration.
PERF. And was it that?
FRED. No; I guess that it was dish-water.
PERF. Now, Freddy, supposing that a man were to dig down deep into the
earth, what would he come to?
FRED. To dirt.
PERF. But supposing that he were to dig down through the earth?
FRED. He would come out of the hole.
PERF. How is your aunty?
FRED. She has the chills and shakes at four o'clock every afternoon.
PERF. She has?
FRED. Yes; and I wish that she would shake out the half-dollar she
promised me.
PERF. Now, Joey and Freddy, do you see that trunk?
JOEY. I do. Is any one in there?
PERF. Yes; a little girl.
FRED. Oh, do put me in there!
(_PERFORMER places them in the trunk; a hushed voice is heard from
JOEY complaining that FREDDY will not give him any room. As the
PERFORMER opens the box, voice is suddenly increased in depth of
tone; he closes it; the voices are again heard in a subdued tone,
until they quiet themselves. The PERFORMER, making a slight bow,
draws the trunk off the stage._)
* * * * *
For full description and prices of the Ventriloquial Champions, see
pages 58 and 59 of Judd's Illustrated Catalogue, mailed by him for
15 cents. On page 78 will be found a Price List of Punch and Judy
properties sold by him.
A YOUNG LADY'S CONVERSATION.
_Enter PRETTY POLL._
"How do you do? I was just going into the garden when papa said you
were here; and, of course, it doesn't do to keep company, it's so rude.
I'm sixteen to-day, and have just left school, and everybody says I've
made such rapid progress as regards my education. Do you know they all
say I've grown so tall lately? Well, I wouldn't have any objections to
that if it wasn't for one reason, and that is--Well, I hardly like to
tell you the reason, either; but I have a young man, and his name's
Julius, and he's so awfully short himself his head hardly comes above
my shoulder; but then, you know, half a loaf's better than no bread,
and a short young man's better than none at all. Talking of Julius, I
will tell you something. The other evening we were strolling up-town
together, and Julius is awfully generous--he'd give me anything. Said
he to me, 'Adelina, supposing I was to offer you a present, would you
accept one?' Says I, 'Oh, certainly!' Accordingly we went into a store
together, and while we were looking at the things, what should the
young man do who stood behind the counter, but he came all the way
round, took Julius by the shoulder. 'There,' says he, 'leave the things
alone, and let your mamma pick what she likes.' Oh! I was awfully
confused, and poor Julius, he didn't know which way to look. But when I
got my present, what do you think that was? Oh, such a splendid pair of
new shoes! But when I got home I found the young shopman had made such
a foolish mistake--he'd wrapped up eights, and everybody knows I only
take twos."
[Illustration]
PRICE LIST
OF
PUNCH AND JUDY PROPERTIES.
[Illustration: PUNCH AND HIS PRETTY POLL.]
PUNCH AND JUDY FIGURES,
=Handsomely dressed, all characters, each $1.25.=
As it is very essential that the figures and all apparatus should be
perfect and complete, Prof. Judd calls attention to the fact that he
manufactures and finishes in the most approved style the following
BEST DRESSED FIGURES, WITH SOLID WOODEN HEADS.
Punch, $1 25
Judy, 1 25
Pretty Poll, 1 25
Doctor, 1 25
Policeman, 1 25
Clown, 1 25
Jack Ketch, 1 25
Scaramouch, 1 25
Opera Singer, 1 25
Darkie, 1 25
Irishman, 1 25
Dutchman, 1 25
Old Nick, 1 25
Foreigner, 1 25
Arabella, 1 25
Lawyer, 1 25
Punch's Dog, 1 50
Horse, 1 50
Crocodile, 1 75
Judge's Bench, 1 75
Prisoner's Pen, 1 75
Bedstead, 1 75
Bed and Pillow, 50
Lawyer's Table, 75
Punch's 2 005,000 Box, 2 00
Steamer and Ship, 2 50
Ship, 1 75
Skeleton Mouth, Movable, 2 00
Ghost, 1 25
Gallows, 1 00
Coffin, 1 00
Snake, 1 25
Servant's Bell, 50
Baby, 50
Squeakers, 25c., solid sil'r, 1 00
Club, 10
Superior Punch and Judy Theatres, made portable for traveling,
fitted with a Stage, Performing Shelf and Covering, Complete
=$12 00=
Goods sent by Express, on receipt of Cash, or C. O. D. (cash on
delivery), on your enclosing to me one-quarter of the full amount, the
remaining three-quarters to be paid to the Expressman when he delivers
the goods to you. Address all orders to
PROFESSOR W. J. JUDD,
_MAGICAL REPOSITORY_,
131 HENRY ST., - - - - - - - - NEW YORK CITY.
THE ROYAL MARIONETTES.
[Illustration: HARLEQUIN. PANTALOON. DOCTOR. SCARAMOUCH.]
Our Artist has given us Illustrations of four of the Leading Marionette
Puppets. They are of peculiar construction, and differ from the Punch
and Judy Troupe in that the Performer is standing over instead of
beneath them. They are worked by each having five or more invisible
silken cords, terminating in an instrument held in the hands of the
Performer. Their feet, hands and head go through all the life-like
motions of living actors. The smallest are twenty-four inches, and the
largest made are forty-two inches in height. PROFESSOR JUDD of New
York, who manufactures and has them in stock, will give you all further
information and furnish the particulars concerning their cost.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] The performer takes advantage of the time occupied in singing this
song by arranging all in readiness for the grand closing scene of this
act.
[2] At this point, where the show is wholly or in part paid for by
voluntary contributions, one of the performers, with a basket, passes
round amongst the audience and takes up the collection.
[3] This ship is mechanically constructed, so that at the desired
moment it is made to show signs of becoming a wreck. The steamer is in
like manner constructed, with the addition that on its reverse side it
represents a sailing vessel only. For this dialogue the steamer may be
wrecked in place of the sail ship.
[4] This famous act never fails in bringing out a round of applause,
and should be used as a closing piece to the popular Tragedies of Punch
and Judy.
DRAWING ROOM MAGIC
A MANUAL OF MYSTICAL MYSTERIES,
_FOR THE PARLOR, SCHOOL AND DRAWING-ROOM_,
WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIVE DIAGRAMS.
If, as BUTLER insinuates,
"The pleasure is as great
of being cheated as to cheat,"
the life of a Prestidigitator must be a pleasant one; and to enable any
one to realize the fact, we, in this volume, present the key to the
"Mystical Mysteries," whereby any boy, of an ingenious turn of mind,
can amuse and astound his friends, schoolfellows and neighbors.
Annexed we give a list of a
PORTION OF THE CONTENTS.
Magic Plums,
Self Balancing,
Sea of Ink,
Chameleon Trick,
Vanishing Seed,
Arab in the Air,
Magic Candles,
Rope Trick,
New Ribbon Manufactory,
Changing Fruit,
Magic Telegraph,
Enchanted Coin,
Tricks with Eggs,
Mystic Tea Caddies,
Invisible Courier,
Japanese Butterflies,
Iron Hand,
Erratic Knaves,
Flying Knife,
Etc., Etc., Etc.
Price 30 Cents.
HAND BOOK
OF
ELOCUTION AND ORATORY.
Being a Systematic Compendium of the necessary Rules for attaining
Proficiency in Reading and Speaking. With copious and interesting
examples.
This treatise on Elocution and Oratory has been prepared with a strict
regard to practical utility, by a favorite tragedienne of the stage.
By attention to its rules the learner may rapidly acquire the art of
reading aloud with due emphasis, and of expressing himself in a set
speech, or a recitation, with propriety. Though chiefly designed for
social purposes, it will also prove a safe guide for those who wish to
establish a well founded professional reputation, either as readers,
speakers, or actors.
CONTENTS.
PART FIRST.
Preliminary Remarks on the Leading Principles of Elocution.
PART SECOND.--Reading.
Family Reading.
Public Reading.
Table Oratory.
After Dinner Speeches.
Wedding Breakfast Speeches.
Funeral Orations.
Verse.
PART THIRD.--Elocution.
The Bar.
Parliamentary.
The Pulpit.
The Lecture Desk.
The Stage.
The Platform.
Conclusion.
Price 30 Cents.
Either of the above will be sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of the
price.
RECITERS, GUIDE BOOKS, ETC.
Actor's Art, The, Price 15 cts.
Amateur's Guide, The, Price 25 cts.
Arnold's Dialogues, Plays and Speeches, Price 30 cts.
Arnold's Dutch Recitations and Headings, Price 15 cts.
Art of Public Speaking, The, Price 25 cts.
Darkey Plays, six parts, Price, per part 30 cts.
Drawing Room Magic, Price 30 cts.
Elocution Without a Master, Price 15 cts.
Evening Entertainments, Price 15 cts.
Hand-Book of Elocution and Oratory, Price 30 cts.
Holiday Guest, The, Price 10 cts.
How to Join a Circus, Price 25 cts.
How we Managed Our Private Theatricals, Price 25 cts.
Little Plays for Little People, Price 30 cts.
McBride's Comic Speeches and Recitations, Price 30 cts.
McBride's Humorous Dialogues, Price 30 cts.
McBride's Temperance Dialogues, Price 30 cts.
Minstrel Gags and End Men's Hand-Book, Price 30 cts.
Parlor Amusements for the Young Folks, Price 30 cts.
Parlor Tableaux, Price 25 cts.
Plays for Young People, Price 30 cts.
Punch and Judy, Price 25 cts.
Shadow Pantomimes, Price 25 cts.
Shakespeare Proverbs, Price 25 cts.
Speechiana, Price 30 cts.
Stump Speaker, The, Price 15 cts.
Either of the above will be sent by mail, on receipt of price, by
HAPPY HOURS COMPANY,
No. 5 Beekman Street, New York.
Transcriber's Note:
Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as
possible. Some minor corrections of spelling have been made.
Italic text has been marked with _underscores_.
Bold text has been marked with =equals signs=.
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