Mr Punch's Model Music Hall Songs and Dramas Part 32

[Miss J. _and_ P. _throw themselves between the combatants_.

_Miss J._ For any mess you make _we_ shall be scolded, So wait until a drugget we've unfolded!

[_They lay down drugget on Stage._

_The Soldier D._ (_politely_). No hurry, Miss, _we_ don't object to waiting.

_The Sailor D._ (_aside_). His valour--like my own--'s evaporating!

(_Defiantly to_ Soldier D.). On guard! You'll see how soon I'll run you through!

(_Confidentially._) (If you will not prod _me_, I won't pink _you_.)

_The Soldier D._ Through your false kid my deadly blade I'll pa.s.s!

(_Confidentially._) (Look here, old fellow, don't you be a _ha.s.s_!)

[_They exchange pa.s.ses at a considerable distance._

_The Sailor D._ (_aside_). Don't lose your temper now!

_Sold. D._ Don't get excited.

Do keep a little farther off!

_Sail. D._ Delighted!

[_Wounds_ Soldier D. _by misadventure._

_Sold. D._ (_annoyed_). There now, you've gone and made upon my wax a dent!

_Sail. D._ Excuse me, it was really quite an accident.

_Sold. D._ (_savagely_). Such clumsiness would irritate a saint!

[_Stabs Sailor Doll._

_Miss J. and P._ (_imploringly_). Oh, stop! the sight of sawdust turns us faint!

[_They drop into chairs, swooning._

_Sail. D._ I'll pay you out for that!

[_Stabs Soldier D._

_Sold. D._ Right through you've poked me!

_Sailor D._ So you have _me_!

_Sold. D._ You shouldn't have provoked me!

[_They fall transfixed._

_Sailor D._ (_faintly_). Alas, we have been led away by vanity.

Dolls shouldn't try to imitate humanity! [_Dies._

_Soldier D._ For, if they do, they'll end like us, unpitied, Each on the other's sword absurdly spitted!

[_Dies._ Miss J. _and_ P. _revive, and bend sadly over the corpses_.

_Miss Jenny._ From their untimely end we draw this moral, How wrong it is, even for dolls, to quarrel!

_Miss Polly._ Yes, Jenny, in the fate of these poor fellows see What sad results may spring from female jealousy!

[_They embrace penitently as Curtain falls._

XII.

CONRAD; OR, THE THUMBSUCKER.

(_Adapted freely from a well-known Poem in the "Struwwelpeter."_)

CHARACTERS.

_Conrad (aged 6)._

_Conrad's Mother(47)._

_The Scissorman (age immaterial)._

SCENE--_An Apartment in the house of_ CONRAD'S _Mother, window in centre at back, opening upon a quiet thoroughfare. It is dusk, and the room is lighted only by the reflected gleam from the street-lamps._ CONRAD _discovered half-hidden by left window-curtain._

_Conrad_ (_watching street_). Still there! For full an hour he has not budged Beyond the circle of yon lamp-post's rays!

The gaslight falls upon his crimson hose, And makes a steely glitter at his thigh, While from the shadow peers a hatchet-face And fixes sinister malignant eyes-- On whom? (_Shuddering._) I dare not trust myself to guess And yet--ah, no--it cannot be myself!

I am so young--one is still young at six!-- What man can say that I have injured him?

Since, in my Mother's absence all the day Engaged upon Munic.i.p.al affairs, I peacefully beguile the weary hours By suction of consolatory thumbs.

[_Here he inserts his thumb in his mouth, but almost instantly removes it with a start._

Again I meet those eyes! I'll look no more-- But draw the blind and shut my terror out.

[_Draws blind and lights candle; Stage lightens._

Heigho, I wish my Mother were at home!

(_Listening._) At last! I hear her latch-key in the door!

[_Enter_ CONRAD'S _Mother, a lady of strong-minded appearance, rationally attired. She carries a large reticule full of doc.u.ments._