"To-night is ours!"
Several Voices. Charmin'.... Otis puts so much real feeling into all his songs ... quite a little gem! &c., &c.
Lady Damp. I should have thought myself that it was rather advanced—for an East-End audience——
Mrs. Tuberose (nettled). Really, dear Lady Dampier, if people see nothing to object in it here, I don't see why they should be more particular at the East-End!
Mrs. Flitt. Oh no,—and as if it matters what the words are in a song. I daresay if one heard their songs——Now we want another song—something as different as possible.
Mr. Gardinier. Heard a capital song at the "Pav." the other night—something about a Cock-eyed Kipper. Just suit my voice. I could easily get the words and music, and do that for you—if you like.
Several Voices. A Cock-eyed Kipper! It sounds too killing! Oh, we must have that!
Lady Damp. Might I ask what kind of creature a—a "Cock-eyed Kipper" may be?
Mr. Gard. Oh, well, I suppose it's a sort of a dried herring—with a squint, don't you know.
Lady Damp. I see no humour in making light of a personal deformity, I must say.
Mr. Gard. Oh, don't you? They will—it'll go with a scream there!
Miss Diova Rose. Yes, poor dears—and we mustn't mind being just a little vulgar for once—to cheer them up.
Lady Honor. I have been to the Pavilion and the Tivoli myself, and I heard nothing to object to. I know I was much more amused than I ever am at theatres—they bore me to death.
Mr. Bagotrix. We might finish up with Mrs. Jarley's Waxworks you know. Some of you can be the figures, and I'll come on in a bonnet and shawl as Mrs. Jarley, and wind you up and describe you. I've done it at lots of places in the country; brought in personal allusions and all that sort of thing, and made everybody roar.
Lady Damp. But will the East-Enders understand your personal allusions?
Mr. Bag. Well, you see, the people in the front rows will, which is all I want.
Lady Honor (suspiciously). Isn't Mrs. Jarley out of Pickwick, though? That's Dickens surely!
Mr. Bag. (reassuringly). Nothing but the name, Lady Honor. I make up all the patter myself, so that'll be all right—just good-natured chaff, you know; if any body's a offended—as I've known them to be—it's no fault of mine.
Mrs. Flitt. Oh! I'm sure you will make it funny,—and about getting someone to preside—I suppose we ought to ask the Vicar of the nearest church?
Lady Honor. Wouldn't it be better to get somebody—a—more in Society, don't you know?
Mrs. Flitt. Yes; and he might offer to pay for hiring the Hall, and the other expenses. I never thought of that. I'll see whom I can get. Really I think it ought to be great fun, and we shall have the satisfaction of feeling we are doing real good, which is such a comfort!
