TOMMY AND HIS SISTER JANE.
Characters.
Tommy and his Sister Jane (Taylorian Twins, and awful examples).
Their Wicked Uncle (plagiarised from a forgotten Nursery Story, and slightly altered).
Old Farmer Copeer (skilled in the use of horse and cattle medicines).
Scene—A shady lane; on the right, a gate, leading to the farm; left, some bushes, covered with practicable scarlet berries.
Enter the Wicked Uncle, stealthily.
The W. U. No peace of mind I e'er shall know again
Till I have cooked the geese of Tom and Jane!
But—though a naughty—I'm a nervous nunky,
For downright felonies I'm far too funky!
I'd hire assassins—but of late the villains
Have raised their usual fee to fifteen shillin's!
Nor, to reduce their rates, will they engage
(Sympathetically) For two poor orphans who are under age!
So (as I'd give no more than half a guinea)
I must myself get rid of Tom and Jenny.
Yet, like an old soft-hearted fool, I falter,
And can't make up my mind to risk a halter.
(Looking off.) Ha, in the distance, Jane and little Tom I see!
These berries—(meditatively)—why, it only needs diplomacy.
Ho-ho, a most ingenious experiment!
[Indulges in silent and sinister mirth, as Jane and Tom trip in, and regard him with innocent wonder.
Jane. Uncle, what is the joke? Why all this merriment?
The W. U. (in guilty confusion). Not merriment, my loves—a trifling spasm—
Don't be alarmed—your Uncle often has 'em!
I'm feeling better than I did at first—
You're looking flushed, though not, I hope, with thirst?
[Insidiously.
Song, by the Wicked Uncle.
The sun is scorching overhead;
The roads are dry and dusty;
And here are berries, ripe and red,
Refreshing when you're thusty!
They're hanging just within your reach,
Inviting you to clutch them!
But—as your Uncle—I beseech
You won't attempt to touch them?
Tommy and Jane (dutifully). We'll do whatever you beseech, and not attempt to touch them!
[Annoyance of W. U.
The W. U. Temptation (so I've understood)
A child, in order kept, shuns;
And fruit in lanes is seldom good
(With several exceptions).
However freely you partake,
It can't—as you are young—kill,
But should it cause a stomach-ache—
Well, don't you blame your Uncle!
Tommy and Jane. No, should it cause a stomach-ache, we will not blame our Uncle!
The W. U. (aside). They'll need no further personal assistance,
But take the bait when I am at a distance.
I could not, were I paid a thousand ducats,
(With sentiment) Stand by, and see them kick their little buckets,
Or look on while their sticks this pretty pair cut!
[Stealing off.
Tommy. What, Uncle, going?
The W. U. (with assumed jauntiness). Just to get my hair cut! [Goes.
Tommy (looking wistfully at the berries). I say, they do look nice, Jane, such a lot too!
Jane (demurely). Well, Tommy, Uncle never told us not to.
[Slow music; they gradually approach the berries, which they pick and eat with increasing relish, culminating in a dance of delight.
Duet—Tommy and Jane (with step-dance).
Tommy (dancing, with his mouth full). These berries ain't so bad—although they've far too much acidity.
Jane (ditto). To me, their only drawback is a dash of insipidity.
Tommy (rudely). But, all the same, you're wolfing 'em with wonderful avidity!
Jane (indignantly). No, that I'm not, so there now!
Tommy (calmly). But you are!
Jane. And so are you!
[They retire up, dancing, and eat more berries—after which they gaze thoughtfully at each other.
Jane. This fruit is most refreshing—but it's curious how it cloys on you!
Tommy (with anxiety). I wonder why all appetite for dinner it destroys in you!
Jane. Oh, Tommy, aren't you half afraid you've ate enough to poison you?
Tommy. No, that I'm not—so there now! &c., &c.
[They dance as before.
Tommy. Jane, is your palate parching up in horrible aridity?
Jane. It is, and in my throat's a lump of singular solidity.
Tommy. Then that is why you're dancing with such pokerlike rigidity.
[Refrain as before; they dance with decreasing spirit, and finally stop, and fan one another with their hats.
Jane. I'm better now that on my brow there is a little breeziness.
Tommy. My passing qualm is growing calm, and tightness turns to easiness.
Jane. You seem to me tormented by a tendency to queasiness?
[Refrain; they attempt to continue the dance—but suddenly sit down side by side.
Jane (with a gasp). I don't know what it is—but, oh, I do feel so peculiar!
Tommy (with a gulp). I've tumults taking place within that I may say unruly are.
Jane. Why, Tommy, you are turning green—you really and you truly are!
Tommy. No, that I'm not, so there now!
Jane. But you are!
Tommy. And so are you!
[Melancholy music; to which Tommy and Jane, after a few convulsive movements, gradually become inanimate. Enter old Farmer Copeer from gate, carrying a large bottle labelled "Cattle Medicine."
Farmer C. It's time I gave the old bay mare her drench.
[Stumbles over the children.
What's here? A lifeless lad!—and little wench!
Been eating berries—where did they get them idees?
For cows, when took so, I've the reg'lar remedies.
I'll try 'em here—and if their state the worse is,
Why, they shall have them balls I give my 'erses!
[Carries the bodies off just before the W. U. re-enters.
W. U. The children—gone? yon bush of berries less full!
Hooray, my little stratagem's successful!
[Dances a triumphant pas seul. Re-enter Farmer C.
Farmer C. Been looking for your little niece and nephew?
The W. U. Yes, searching for them everywhere—
Farmer C. (ironically). Oh, hev' you?
Then let me tell you, from all pain they're free, Sir.
The W. U. (falling on his knees). I didn't poison them—it wasn't me, Sir!
Farmer C. I thought as much—a constable I'll run for.
[Exit.
The W. U. My wretched nerves again! This time I'm done for!
Well, though I'm trapped, and useless all disguise is,
My case shall ne'er come on at the Assizes!
[Rushes desperately to tree and crams himself with the remaining berries, which produce an almost instantaneous effect. Re-enter Tom and Jane from gate, looking pale and limp. Terror of the Wicked Uncle as he turns and recognises them.
The W. U. (with tremulous politeness). The shades of Jane and Tommy, I presume?
[Re-enter Farmer C.
Jane and Tommy (pointing to Farmer C.) His Cattle Mixtures snatched us from the tomb!
The W. U. (with a flicker of hope). Why, then the self-same drugs will ease my torments!
Farmer C. (chuckling). Too late! they've drunk the lot, the little vormints!
The W. U. (bitterly). So out of life I must inglorious wriggle,
Pursued by Tommy's grin, and Jenny's giggle!
[Dies in great agony, while Tommy, Jane, and Farmer Copeer look on with mixed emotions as the Curtain falls.
xi.—THE RIVAL DOLLS.
"Miss Jenny and Polly had each a new dolly."—Vide Poem.
Characters.
| Miss Jenny Miss Polly | } | By the Sisters Leamar. |
| The Soldier Doll The Sailor Doll | } | By the Two Armstrongs. |
Scene—A Nursery. Enter Miss Jenny and Miss Polly, who perform a blameless step-dance with an improving chorus.
Oh, isn't it jolly! we've each a new dolly,
And one is a Soldier, the other's a Tar;
We're fully contented with what's been presented,
Such good little children we both of us are!
[They dance up to a cupboard, from which they bring out two large Dolls, which they place on chairs.
Miss J. Don't they look nice! Come, Polly, let us strive
To make ourselves believe that they're alive!
Miss P. (addressing Sailor D.). I'm glad you're mine. I dote on all that's nautical.
The Sailor D. (opening his eyes suddenly). Excuse me, Miss, your sister's more my sort o' gal.
[Kisses his hand to Miss J., who shrinks back, shocked and alarmed.
Miss J. Oh, Polly, did you hear? I feel so shy!
The Sailor D. (with mild self-assertion). I can say "Pa" and "Ma"—and wink my eye.
[Does so at Miss P., who runs in terror to Miss J.'s side.
Miss J. Why, both are showing signs of animation.
Miss P. Who'd think we had such strong imagination!
The Soldier Doll (aside to the Sailor D.). I say, old fellow, we have caught their fancy—
In each of us they now a real man see!
Let's keep it up!
The Sailor D. (dubiously.) D'ye think as we can do it?
The Soldier D. You stick by me, and I will see you through it.
Sit up, and turn your toes out,—don't you loll;
Put on the Man, and drop the bloomin' Doll!
[The Sailor Doll pulls himself together, and rises from chair importantly.
The Sailor D. (in the manner of a Music-hall Chairman)—
Ladies, with your kind leave, this gallant gent
Will now his military sketch present.
[Miss J. and P. applaud: the Soldier D., after feebly expostulating, is induced to sing.
Song, by the Soldier Doll.
When I used to be displayed,
In the Burlington Arcade,
With artillery arrayed
Underneath.
Shoulder Hump
I imagine that I made
All the Lady Dolls afraid,
I should draw my battle-blade
From its sheath,
Shoulder Hump
For I'm Mars's gallant son,
And my back I've shown to none,
Nor was ever seen to run
From the strife!
Shoulder Hump!
Oh, the battles I'd have won,
And the dashing deeds have done,
If I'd ever fired a gun
In my life!
Shoulder Hump!
Refrain (to be sung marching round Stage).
By your right flank, Wheel!
Let the front rank kneel!
With the bristle of the steel
To the foe.
Till their regiments reel,
At our rattling peal,
And the military zeal
We show!
[Repeat, with the whole company marching round after him.
The Soldier Doll. My friend will next oblige—this jolly Jack Tar.
Will give his song and chorus in charàck-tar!
[Same business with Sailor D.
Song, by the Sailor Doll.
In costume I'm
So maritime,
You'd never suppose the fact is,
That with the Fleet
In Regent Street,
I'd precious little naval practice!
There was saucy craft,
Rigged fore an' aft,
Inside o' Mr. Cre-mer's.
From Noah's Arks to Clipper-built barques,
Like-wise mechanical stea-mers.
Chorus.
But to navigate the Serpentine,
Yeo-ho, my lads, ahoy!
With clockwork, sails, or spirits of wine,
Yeo-ho, my lads, ahoy!
I did respeckfully decline,
So I was left in port to pine,
Which wasn't azactually the line
Of a rollicking Sailor Boy, Yeo-ho!
Of a rollicking Sailor Bo-oy!
Yes, there was lots
Of boats and yachts,
Of timber and of tin, too;
But one and all
Was far too small
For a doll o' my size to get into
I was too big
On any brig
To ship without disas-ter,
And it wouldn't never do
When the cap'n and the crew
Were a set 'o little swabs all plaster!
Chorus—So to navigate the Serpentine, &c.
An Ark is p'raps
The berth for chaps
As is fond o' Natural Hist'ry.
But I sez to Shem
And the rest o' them,
"How you get along at all's a myst'ry!
With a Wild Beast Show
Let loose below,
And four fe-males on deck too!
I never could agree
With your happy fami-lee,
And your lubberly ways I objeck to."
[Chorus. Hornpipe by the company, after which the Soldier Doll advances condescendingly to Miss Jenny.
The Sold. D. Invincible I'm reckoned by the Ladies,
But yield to you—though conquering my trade is!
Miss J. (repulsing him). Oh, go away, you great conceited thing, you!
[The Sold. D. persists in offering her attentions.
Miss P. (watching them bitterly). To be deserted by one's doll does sting you!
[The Sailor D. approaches.
The Sailor D. (to Miss P.) Let me console you, Miss, a Sailor Doll
As swears his 'art was ever true to Poll!
(N.B.—Good opportunity for Song here.)
Miss P. (indignantly to Miss J.) Your Sailor's teasing me to be his idol!
Do make him stop—(spitefully)—When you've quite done with my doll!
Miss J. (scornfully.) If you suppose I want your wretched warrior,
I'm sorry for you!
Miss P. I for you am sorrier.
Miss J. (weeping, r.). Polly preferred to me—what ignominy!
Miss P. (weeping, l.). My horrid Soldier jilting me for Jenny!
[The two Dolls face one another, c.
Sailor D. (to Soldier D.). You've made her sluice her sky-lights now, you swab!
Soldier D. (to Sailor D.). As you have broke her heart, I'll break your nob! [Hits him.
Sailor D. (in a pale fury). This insult must be blotted out in bran!
Soldier D. (fiercely). Come on, I'll shed your sawdust—if I can!
[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 pass!
(Confidentially.) (Look here, old fellow, don't you be a hass!)
[They exchange passes 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 Municipal 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 documents.
Conrad's M. Would, Conrad, that you were of riper years,
So you might share your Mother's joy to-day,
The day that crowns her long and arduous toil
As one of London's County Councillors!
Conrad. Nay, speak; for though my mind be immature,
One topic still can charm my infant ear,
That ever craves the oft-repeated tale.
I love to hear of that august assembly
[His Mother lifts her bonnet solemnly.
In which my Mother's honoured voice is raised!
C.'s M. (gratified). Learn, Conrad, then, that, after many months
Of patient "lobbying" (you've heard the term?)
The measure by my foresight introduced
Has triumphed by a bare majority!
Con. My bosom thrills with dutiful delight—
Although I yet for information wait
As to the scope and purpose of the statute.
C.'s M. You show an interest so intelligent
That well deserves it should be satisfied,
Be seated, Conrad, at your Mother's knee,
And you shall hear the full particulars.
You know how zealously I advocate
The sacred cause of Nursery Reform?
How through my efforts every infant's toys
Are carefully inspected once a month——?
Con. (wearily). Nay, Mother, you forget—I have no toys.
C.'s M. Which brings you under the exemption clause.
But—to resume; how Nursery Songs and Tales
Must now be duly licensed by our Censor,
And any deviation from the text
Forbidden under heavy penalties?
All that you know. Well; with concern of late,
I have remarked among our infancy
The rapid increase of a baneful habit
On which I scarce can bring my tongue to dwell.
[The Stage darker; blind at back illuminated.
Oh, Conrad, there are children—think of it!—
So lost to every sense of decency
That, in mere wantonness or brainless sloth,
They obstinately suck forbidden thumbs!
[Conrad starts with irrepressible emotion.
Forgive me if I shock your innocence!
(Sadly.) Such things exist—but soon shall cease to be,
Thanks to the measure we have passed to-day!
Con. (with growing uneasiness). But how can statutes check such practices?
C.'s M. (patting his head). Right shrewdly questioned, boy! I come to that.
Some timid sentimentalists advised
Compulsory restraint in woollen gloves,
Or the deterrent aid of bitter aloes.
I saw the evil had too deep a seat
To yield to such half-hearted remedies.
No; we must cut, ere we could hope to cure!
Nay, interrupt me not; my Bill appoints
A new official, by the style and title
Of "London County Council Scissorman,"
For the detection of young "suck-a-thumbs."
[Here the shadow of a huge hand brandishing a gigantic pair of shears appears upon the blind.
Con. (hiding his face in his Mother's lap.) Ah, Mother, see!... the scissors!... On the blind!
C.'s M. Why, how you tremble! You've no cause to fear.
The shadow of his grim insignia
Should have no terror—save for thumb-suckers.
Con. And what for them?
C.'s M. (complacently). A doom devised by me—
The confiscation of the culprit thumbs.
Thus shall our statute cure while it corrects,
For those who have no thumbs can err no more.
[The shadow slowly passes on the blind, Conrad appearing relieved at its departure. Loud knocking without. Both start to their feet.
C.'s M. Who knocks so loud at such an hour as this?
A Voice. Open, I charge ye. In the Council's name!
C.'s M. 'Tis the Official Red-legged Scissorman,
Who doubtless calls to thank me for the post.
Con. (with a gloomy determination). More like his business, Madam, is with—Me!
C.'s M. (suddenly enlightened). A Suck-a-thumb? ... you, Conrad?
C. (desperately). Ay,—from birth!
[Profound silence, as Mother and Son face one another. The knocking is renewed.
C.'s M. Oh, this is horrible—it must not be!
I'll shoot the bolt and barricade the door.
[Conrad places himself before it, and addresses his Mother in a tone of incisive irony.
Con. Why, where is all the zeal you showed of late?
Is't thus that you the Roman Matron play?
Trick not a statute of your own devising.
Come, your official's waiting—let him in!
[C's M. shrinks back appalled.
So? you refuse!—(throwing open door)—then—enter, Scissorman!
[Enter the Scissorman, masked and in red tights, with his hand upon the hilt of his shears.
The S. (in a passionless tone). Though sorry to create unpleasantness,
I claim the thumbs of this young gentleman,
Which these own eyes have marked between his lips.
C.'s M. (frantically). Thou minion of a meddling tyranny,
Go exercise thy loathsome trade elsewhere!
The S. (civilly). I've duties here that must be first performed.
C.'s M. (wildly). Take my two thumbs for his!
The S. 'Tis not the law—
Which is a model of lucidity.
Con. (calmly). Sir, you speak well. My thumbs are forfeited,
And they alone must pay the penalty.
The S. (with approval). Right! Step with me into the outer hall,
And have the business done without delay.
C.'s M. (throwing herself between them.) Stay, I'm a
Councillor—this law was mine!
Hereby I do suspend the clause I drew.
The S. You should have drawn it milder.
Con. Must I teach
A parent laws were meant to be obeyed?
[To Sc.] Lead on, Sir. (To his Mother with cold courtesy.) Madam,—may I trouble you?
[He thrusts her gently aside and passes out with the Sc.; the door is shut and fastened from without. C.'s M. rushes to door which she attempts to force without success.
C.'s M. In vain I batter at a senseless door,
I'll to the keyhole train my tortured ear.
(Listening.) Dead silence! ... is it over—or, to come?
Hark! was not that the click of meeting shears?...
Again! and followed by the sullen thud
Of thumbs that drop upon linoleum!...
[The door is opened and Conrad appears, pale but erect. N.B. The whole of this scene has been compared to one in "La Tosca"—which, however, it exceeds in horror and intensity.
C.'s M. They send him back to me, bereft of both!
My Conrad! What?—repulse a Mother's Arms!
Con. (with chilling composure). Yes, Madam, for between us ever more,
A barrier invisible is raised,
And should I strive to reach those arms again,
Two spectral thumbs would press me coldly back—
The thumbs I sucked in blissful ignorance,
The thumbs that solaced me in solitude,
The thumbs your County Council took from me,
And your endearments scarcely will replace!
Where, Madam, lay the sin in sucking them?
The dog will lick his foot, the cat her claw,
His paws sustain the hibernating bear—
And you decree no law to punish them!
Yet, in your rage for infantine reform,
You rushed this most ridiculous enactment—
Its earliest victim—your neglected son!
C.'s M. (falling at his feet). Say, Conrad, you will some day pardon me?
Con. (bitterly, as he regards his maimed hands.) Aye—on the day these pollards send forth shoots!
[His Mother turns aside with a heartbroken wail; Conrad standing apart in gloomy estrangement as the Curtain descends.
BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. LD., PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.