Mr Punch's Model Music Hall Songs and Dramas Part 23

_Oh, I hear a gentle whisper from de days ob long ago, When I used to be a happy darkie slave.

[Trump-a-trump!

But now I'se got to labour wif the shovel an' de hoe-- For ole Ma.s.sa lies a sleepin' in his grave!

[Trump-trump!_

_Chorus._

_Poor ole Ma.s.sa! Poor ole Ma.s.sa!_ (Pianissimo.) _Poor ole Ma.s.sa, that I nebber more shall see!

He was let off by de Jury, Way down in old Missouri--But dey lynched him on a persimmon tree._

_Elfie._ You smile at last, dear Grandma! I would sing to you again, but I am so very, very sleepy!

_Lady B._ Poor child, you have had a long journey. Rest awhile on this couch, and I will arrange this screen so as to protect your slumbers.

[_Leads little_ ELFIE _to couch_.

_Elfie_ (_sleepily_). Thanks, dear Grandma, thanks.... Now I shall go to sleep, and dream of you, and the dogs, and angels. I so often dream about angels--but that is generally after supper, and to-night I have had no supper.... But never mind.... Good night, Grannie, good night ...

goo'ni' ... goo ... goo!

[_She sinks softly to sleep._

_Lady B._ And I was about to set the bloodhounds upon this little sunbeam! 'Tis long since these grim walls have echoed strains so sweet as hers. (_Croons._) "Woa, Lucindy" &c. "Dey tried him by a Jury, way down in ole Missouri, an' dey hung him to a possumdip tree!" (_Goes to couch, and gazes on the little sleeper._) How peacefully she slumbers!

What a change has come over me in one short hour!--my withered heart is sending up green shoots of tenderness, of love, and hope! Let me try henceforth to be worthy of this dear child's affection and respect.

(_Turns, and sees_ MONKSHOOD.) Ha, Monkshood! Then there is time yet!

Those parcels ... quick, quick!--the parcels!----

_Monks_ (_impa.s.sively_). Have been left as you instructed, my Lady.

[_Chord._ Lady B. _staggers back, gasping, into chair. Little_ ELFIE _awakes behind screen, and rubs her eyes_.

_Lady B._ (_in a hoa.r.s.e whisper_). You--you have left the parcels ...

all--_all?_ Tell me--how were they received? Speak low--I would not that yonder child should awake and hear!

_Little Elfie_ (_behind the screen, very wide awake indeed_). Dear, good old Grannie--she would conceal her generosity--even from _me_!

(_Loudly._) She little thinks that I am overhearing all!

_Monks._ I could have sworn I heard whispering.

_Lady B._ Nay, you are mistaken--'twas but the wind in the old wainscot.

(_Aside._) He is quite capable of destroying that innocent child; but old and attached servant as he is, there are liberties I still know how to forbid. (_To_ M.) Your story--quick!

_Monks._ First, I delivered the cigars to Sir Vevey Long, whom I found under his verandah. He seemed surprised and gratified by the gift, selected a weed, and was proceeding to light it, whilst he showed a desire to converse familiarly with me. 'Astily excusing myself, I drove away, when----

_Lady B._ When _what_? Do not torture a wretched old woman!

_Monks._ When I heard a loud report behind me, and, in the portion of a brace, two waistcoat-b.u.t.tons, and half a slipper, which hurtled past my ears, I recognised all that was mortal of the late Sir Vevey. You mixed them cigars uncommon strong, m'Lady.

_Elfie_ (_aside_). Can it be? But no, no. I will _not_ believe it. I am sure that dear Granny meant no harm!

_Lady B._ (_with a grim pride she cannot wholly repress_). I have devoted some study to the subject of explosives. 'Tis another triumph to the Anti-tobacconists. And what of Lady Violet Powdray--did she apply the salve?

_Monks._ Judging from the 'eartrending 'owls which proceeded from Carmine Cottage, the salve was producing the desired result. Her Ladys.h.i.+p, 'owever, terminated her sufferings somewhat prematoor by jumping out of a top winder just as I was taking my departure----

_Lady B._ She should have died hereafter--but no matter ... and the Upas-tree?----

_Monks._----was presented to the Pergaments, who unpacked it, and loaded its branches with toys and tapers; after which Mr. Pergament, Mrs. P., and all the little Pergaments joined 'ands, and danced round it in light'arted glee. (_In a sombre tone._) They little knoo as how it was their dance of death!

_Lady B._ That knowledge will come! And the beer, Monkshood--you saw it broached?

_Monks._ Upon the village green; the mortality is still spreading, it being found impossible to undo the knots in which the victims have tied themselves. The sweetmeats were likewise distributed, and the floor of the hinfant-school now resembles one vast fly-paper.

_Lady B._ (_with a touch of remorse_). The children too! Was not my little Elfie once an infant? Ah me, ah me!

_Elfie_ (_aside_). Once--but that was long, long ago. And, oh, _how_ disappointed I am in poor dear Grandmama!

_Lady B._ Monkshood, you should not have done these things--you should have saved me from myself. You _must_ have known how greatly all this would increase my unpopularity in the neighbourhood.

_Monks._ (_sulkily_). And this is my reward for obeying orders! Take care, my Lady. It suits you now to throw me aside like a--(_casting about for an original simile_)--like a old glove, because this innocent grandchild of yours has touched your flinty 'art. But where will _you_ be when she learns----?

_Lady B._ (_in agony_). Ah, no, Monkshood, good, faithful Monkshood, she must never know that! Think, Monkshood, you would not tell her that the Grandmother to whom she looks up with such touching, childlike love, was a--_homicide_--you would not do that?

_Monks._ Some would say even 'omicide was not too black a name for all you've done. (Lady BELLEDAME _shudders_.) I might tell Miss Elfie how you've blowed up a live Baronet, corrosive sublimated a gentle Lady, honly for 'aving, in a moment of candour, called you a hold cat, and distributed pison in a variety of forms about this smiling village; and, if that don't inspire her with distrust, I don't know the nature of children, that's all! I might tell her, I say, and, if I'm to keep my mouth shut, I shall expect it to be considered in my wages.

_Lady B._ I knew you had a good heart! I will pay you anything--anything, provided you s.h.i.+eld my guilt from her ... wait, you shall have gold, gold, Monkshood, gold!

[_Chord. Little_ ELFIE _suddenly comes from behind screen; limelight on her. The other two shrink back._

_Elfie._ Do not give that bad old man money, Grandmother, for it will only be wasted.

_Lady B._ Speak, child!--how much do you know?

_Elfie._ All! [_Chord._ Lady B. _collapses on chair_.

_Lady B._ (_with an effort_). And now, Elfie, that you know, you scorn and hate your poor old Grandmother--is it not so?

_Elfie._ It is wrong to hate one's Grandmother, whatever she does. At first when I heard, I was very, very sorry. I _did_ think it was most unkind of you. But now, oh, I _can't_ believe that you had not some good, wise motive, in acting as you did!

_Lady B._ (_in conscience-stricken aside_). Even _this_ cannot shatter her artless faith ... Oh, wretch, wretch!

[_Covers her face._

_Monks._ Motive--I believe you there, Missie. Why, she went and insured all their lives aforehand, _she_ did.

_Lady B._ Monkshood, in pity hold your peace!

_Elfie_ (_her face beaming_). I knew it--I was sure of it! Oh, Granny, my dear, kind old Granny, you insured their lives first, so that no real harm could possibly happen to them--oh, I am so happy!

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Good-bye, Good-bye!"]

_Lady B._ (_aside_). What shall I say? Merciful Powers, what _shall_ I say to her?

[_Disturbed sounds without._