Voces Populi Part 27

At a Music Hall.

SCENE.--_The auditorium of a Music Hall, the patrons of which are respectable, but in no sense "smart." The occupants of the higher-priced seats appear to have dropped in less for the purpose of enjoying the entertainment than of discussing their private affairs--though this does not prevent them from applauding everything with generous impartiality._

THE CHAIRMAN. Ladies and Gentlemen, the Celebrated Character-Duettists and Variety Artistes, the Sisters Silvertw.a.n.g, will appear next!

[_They do; they have just sung a duet in praise of Nature with an interspersed step-dance. "Oh, I love to 'ear the echo on the Moun-ting!"

(Tiddity-iddity-iddity-iddity-um!) "And to listen to the tinkle of the Foun-ting!" (Tiddity, &c.)_

A WHITE-CAPPED ATTENDANT (_taking advantage of a pause, plaintively_).

Sengwidges, too-pence!

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE SISTERS SILVERTw.a.n.g.]

VOLUBLE LADY _in the s.h.i.+lling Stalls_ (_telling her Male Companion an interminable story with an evasive point_). No, but you 'ear what I'm going to _tell_ you, because I'm coming to it presently. I can't remember his name at this moment--something like Budkin, but it wasn't that, somewhere near Bond Street, he is, or a street off there; a Scotchman, but _that_ doesn't matter! (_Here she breaks off to hum the Chorus of "Good Ole Mother-in-Law!" which is being sung on the stage._) Well, let me see--what was I telling you? Wait a minute, excuse _me_, oh, yes,--_well_, there was this picture,--mind you, it's a lovely _painting_, but the frame simply nothing,--not that I go by frames, myself, o' course not, but I fetched it down to show him--oh, I know what you'll say, but he must know _something_ about such things; he knew my uncle, and I can tell you what he _is_--he's a florist, and married nineteen years, and his wife's forty--years older than me, but I've scarcely spoke to _her_, and no children, so I fetched it to show him, and as soon as he sets eyes on it, he says----(FEMALE "CHARACTER-COMIC" _on Stage_, _lugubriously_. "Ritolderiddle, ol de_ray_ ritolderiddle, olde-_ri_-_ido_!") I can't tell you _how_ old it is, but 'undreds of years, and Chinese, I shouldn't wonder, but we can't trace its 'istry--that's what _he_ said, and if _he_ don't know, _n.o.body_ does, for it stands to reason he must be a judge, though nothing to me,--when I say nothing, I mean all I know of him is that he used to be----(TENOR VOCALIST ON STAGE. "My Sweetheart when a Bo-oy!") I always like that song, don't you? Well, and this is what I was _wanting_ to tell you, _she_ got to know what I'd done--how is more'n _I_ can tell you, but she did, and she come straight in to where I was, and I see in a minute she'd been drinking, for drink she does, from morning to night, but I don't mind _that_, and her bonnet all on the back of her head, and her voice that 'usky, she----(TENOR. "She sang a Song of Home Sweet Home--a song that reached my heart!") And I couldn't be expected to put up with _that_, you know, but I haven't 'alf told you yet--_well_, &c., &c.

IN THE RESERVED STALLS.

FIRST PROFESSIONAL LADY, "_resting_," _to_ SECOND DITTO (_as_ MISS FLORRIE FOLJAMBE _appears on Stage_). New dresses to-night.

SECOND DITTO. Yes. (_Inspects_ MISS F.'S _costume_.) Something wrong with that boy's dress in front, though, cut too low. Is that silver bullion it's trimmed with? That silver stuff they put on my pantomime-dress has turned quite yellow!

FIRST DITTO. It will sometimes. Did you know any of the critics when you were down at Slagtown for the Panto?

SECOND DITTO. I knew the _Grimes.h.i.+re Mercury_, and he said most awfully rude things about me in his paper. I was rather rude to him at rehearsal, but we made it up afterwards. You know Lily's married, dear?

FIRST DITTO. What--Lily? You don't mean it!

SECOND DITTO. Oh, yes, she _is_, though. She went out to Buenos Ayres, and the other day she was taken in to dinner by the Bishop of the Friendly Islands.

FIRST DITTO. A Bishop? _Fancy!_ That _is_ getting on, isn't it?

MISS FOLJAMBE (_on Stage, acknowledging an encore_). Ladies and Gentlemen, I am very much obliged for your kind reception this evening, but having been lately laid up with a bad cold, and almost entirely lost my vice, and being still a little 'orse, I feel compelled to ask your kind acceptance of a few 'ornpipe steps, after which I 'ope to remain, Ladies and Gentlemen, always your obedient 'umble servant to command--Florrie Foljambe!

[_Tumultuous applause, and hornpipe._

CHAIRMAN. Professor Boodler, the renowned Imitator of Birds, will appear next!

THE PROFESSOR (_on Stage_). Ladies and Gentlemen, I shall commence by an attempt to give you an imitation of that popular and favourite songster the Thrush--better known to some of you, I dare say, as the Throstle, or Mavis! (_He gives the Thrush--which somehow doesn't "go."_) I shall next endeavour to represent that celebrated and tuneful singing-bird--the Sky-lark. (_He does it, but the Lark doesn't quite come off._) I shall next try to give you those two sweet singers, the Male and Female Canary--the gentleman in the stalls with the yellow 'air will represent the female bird on this occasion, he must not be offended, for it is a 'igh compliment I am paying him, a harmless professional joke. (_The Canaries obtain but tepid acknowledgments._) I shall now conclude my ill.u.s.trations of bird-life with my celebrated imitation of a waiter drawing the cork from a bottle of gingerbeer, and drinking it afterwards.

[_Does so; rouses the audience to frantic enthusiasm, and retires after triple recall._

THE VOLUBLE LADY _in the s.h.i.+lling Stalls_ (_during the performance of a Thrilling Melodramatic Sketch_). I've nothing to say against her 'usban', a quiet, respectable man, and always treated _me_ as a lady, with grey whiskers--but that's neither here nor there--and I speak of parties as I find them--_well_. _That_ was a Thursday. On the _Sat.u.r.day_ there came a knock at my door, and I answered it, and there was she saying, as cool as you please----(HEROINE ON STAGE. "Ah, no, no--you would not ruin me? You will not tell my husband?") So I told her. "I'm very sorry," I says, "but I can't lend that frying-pan to n.o.body." So I got up. Two hours _after_, as I was going down stairs, she come out of her room, and says,--"'Allo, Rose, 'ow _are_ yer?" as if nothing had 'appened. "Oh, jolly," I says, or somethink o' that sort--_I_ wasn't going to take no notice of _her_--and she says, "Going out?"--like that.

I says, "Oh, yes; nothing to stay in for," I says, careless-like; so Mrs. Piper, _she_ never said nothing, and _I_ didn't say nothing; and so it went on till Monday--_well_! Her 'usban' met me in the pa.s.sage; and he said to me--good-tempered and civil enough, I _must_ say--he said----(VILLAIN ON STAGE. "Curse you! I've had enough of this fooling!

Give me money, or I'll twist your neck, and fling you into yonder mill-dam, to drown!") So o' course I'd no objection to that; and all she wanted, in the way of eatables and drink, she _'ad_--no, let me finish _my_ story first. Well, just fancy _'er_ now! She asked me to step in; and she says, "Ow are you?" and was very nice, and I never said a word--not wis.h.i.+ng to bring up the past, and--I didn't tell you _this_--they'd a kind of old easy chair in the room--and the only remark _I_ made, not meaning anythink, was----(HERO ON STAGE. "You infernal, black-hearted scoundrel! this is _your_ work, is it?") Well, I couldn't ha'put it more pleasant than that, _could_ I? and old Mr. Fitkin, as was settin' on it, he says to me, he says----(HERO. "Courage, my darling!

You shall not perish if my strong arms can save you. Heaven help me to rescue the woman I love better than my life!") but he's 'alf silly, so I took no partickler notice of _'im_, when, what did that woman do, after stoopin' to me, as she 'as, times without number--but--Oh, is the play over? Well, as I was saying--oh, _I'm_ ready to go if you are, and I can tell you the rest walking home. [_Exit, having thoroughly enjoyed her evening._

A Recitation Under Difficulties.

SCENE.--_An Evening Party_; MISS FRESIA BLUDKINSON, _a talented young Professional Reciter, has been engaged to entertain the company, and is about to deliver the favourite piece ent.i.tled_, "_The Lover of Lobelia Bangs, a Cowboy Idyl_." _There is the usual crush, and the guests outside the drawing-room, who can neither hear nor see what is going on, console themselves by conversing in distinctly audible tones._ _Jammed in a doorway, between the persons who are trying to get in, and the people who would be only too glad to get out, is an_ UNSOPHISTICATED GUEST _who doesn't know a soul, and is consequently reduced to listening to the Recitation_. _This is what he hears_:--

MISS FRESIA BLUD. (_in a tone of lady-like apology_).

I am only a Cowboy----

[_Several Ladies put up their gla.s.ses, and examine her critically, as if they had rather expected this confession. Sudden burst of Society Chatter from without._

SOCIETY CHATTER. How d'ye do?... Oh, but her parties never _are_!... How are you?... No, I left her at .... Yes, he's somewhere about.... Saw you in the Row this mornin'.... Are you doing anything on----?... Oh, _what_ a shame!... No, but _doesn't_ she now?... No earthly use trying to get in at present ... &c., &c.

MISS FRESIA B. (_beginning again, with meek despair, a little louder_).

I am only a Cowboy; reckless, rough, in an unconventional suit of clothes; I hain't, as a rule, got much to say, and my conversation is mostly oaths.

[_Cries of "Ss.h.!.+" intended, however, for the people outside, who are chattering harder than ever._

When the cackle of females strikes my ear----

SOCIETY CHATTER (_as before_). Oh, _much_ cooler here.... Yes, delightful, wasn't it? Everybody one knows.... No, you don't _really_?... Oh, Popsy's flouris.h.i.+ng, thanks.... The new Butler turned out a perfect demon ... but I said I wouldn't have his tail docked for anything ... so they've painted it _eau de Nil_, and it looks _so_ nice!

MISS F. B. (_pointedly_).

When the cackle of females strikes my ear, I jest vamose, for they make me skeered, And I sorter suspicion I skeer them too, with my hulking form, and my bushy beard!

[_Here, of course, she strokes a very round chin._

SOCIETY CHATTER. Seems to be somethin' goin' on in there--singin', actin', dancin', or somethin'.... Well, of course, only heard _her_ version of it as yet, y' know.... Have you seen him in ... white bengaline with a Medici collar, and one of those ... nasty gouty attacks he _will_ have are only rheumatism, &c., &c.

MISS F. B. (_when next heard_).

I cleared my throat and I tried to speak--but the words died strangled--

A FEMININE VOICE OUTSIDE. So _long_ since we had a quiet talk together!

Do tell me all about, &c., &c.

MISS F. B.

----strangled by sheer alarm.

For there in front----

[_Here she points dramatically at a stout matron, who fans herself consciously._

----was the slender form, and the sweet girl-face of our new "School Marm"!

Say, boys! hev' ye heard an aeolian harp which a Zephyr's tremulous finger tw.a.n.gs?

Wa'al, it kinder thrills ye the way I felt when I first beheld Lobelia Bangs!