EVENINGS FROM HOME.
Mr. Barlow, with Masters Harry Sandford and Tommy Merton, visits Astley's Theatre, to see the Pantomime of "Lady Godiva."
"This," exclaimed Harry, "is an exhibition which affords me, and indeed appears to give to a vast number besides myself, the greatest gratification.
Tommy. I see, Sir, that St. George appears in this story with Lady Godiva; pray, Sir, who was St. George?
Mr. Barlow. There have been, my dear Tommy, various opinions on this interesting subject, and some honest folks have sought to identify the celebrated personage in question with a Butcher, who served bad meat to the Christians in Palestine, while others have gone equally far towards proving that he was no Butcher, but an Arian Bishop of Alexandria. Whether Butcher, or Bishop, it was for a long time most difficult to determine.
Harry. But pray, Sir, why did not the antagonistic parties bring the case into a Court of Law so as to obtain a decision.
Mr. Barlow. Your own experience, Harry, will, doubtless, one of these days furnish you with sufficient reason for the persons interested not having given employment to the gentlemen of the long robe. There was no claimant to the title living, and there was nothing beyond a title to be claimed; for, whether on the one hand (with Eusebius) revering him as a Saint, or, on the other (with Gibbon) abusing him as "the infamous George," both sides admitted the object of their contention to have been long since deceased. He is, however, the patron Saint of England, and owes his great reputation in modern times to managers of Theatres at Christmas, and writers of extravaganzas and of Pantomimes, to whom his history is invaluable, as affording marvellous opportunities for great scenic display, and spectacular effect, while the Saintly Knight himself seldom fails to find an admirable representative in either a young lady of considerable personal attractions (as here at Astley's) or in some eccentric and grotesque gentleman like one of the lithsome Paynes, or the agile Mr. Vokes, whose extraordinary feats, with his legs, we have already witnessed at Drury Lane Theatre. I confess, however, that I do not perceive by what process St. George has been brought into the comparatively modern legend of Lady Godiva.
Harry. It seems to me, Sir, that you intended us just now to remark some diverting jest in your use of the words "feats" and "legs," which Tommy, I fear, has failed to comprehend.
Mr. Barlow. Indeed, Harry, you are quite right, and I trust that both you, and Tommy, will be able to utter such pleasantries yourselves with a full appreciation of their value. I regret to notice that Miss Sheridan, who, with much discretion, performs the part of the Lady Godiva, is suffering from cold, and is, consequently, a little hoarse. This is natural at Astley's.
Then, turning to Tommy, and smiling in his usual kind manner, Mr. Barlow said, "My dear Tommy, although you have not yet mastered the amusing puns which I made in my recent discourse, you can, it may be, tell me why Miss Sheridan resembles a pony?"
Tommy, whose whole attention was now given to the scene, expressed his intention of at once renouncing all attempts at solving this problem. Whereupon Mr. Barlow cheerfully replied that Miss Sheridan so far resembled a pony, inasmuch as she was, unfortunately, on that evening, "a little hoarse." Harry laughed at this sally, and, indeed, considered his beloved tutor a prodigy of wit and ingenuity; but it was otherwise with Tommy, who remained silent and depressed during the greater part of the entertainment; and, indeed, it was not until the very effective Transformation Scene that Tommy's unbounded pleasure and admiration once more found vent in the most unqualified applause, in which the entire audience joined.
Harry. These expressions of delight remind me of the story you read to me the other day, Sir, called Agesiläus and the Elastic Nobleman. As Tommy has not heard it I will——
But at this moment a vast assemblage of children on the stage, habited as soldiers, commenced the National Anthem at the top of their voices, which for the time put an end to further conversation.
On quitting the theatre, Tommy, who from having been in a state of the greatest elation had once more resumed the sober and saddened aspect with which he had listened to his tutor's discourse during the play, took Harry aside, and declared to him, with tears in his eyes, that from that day forward he would never rest till he had made himself thoroughly acquainted with all the jokes in the English language, and had perfected himself in the art of constructing new ones.
"Your determination, Master Tommy," replied his young friend, "reminds me of the story of Darius and the Corrugated Butcher; but, as I am too fatigued to-night to remember its main features, I will defer the recital of it till to-morrow morning."
Tommy evinced a great curiosity to know whether there were in this tale any puns, upon which he might at once exercise his intelligence, but on Harry's repeating his promise, he allowed him to go to bed without further question.
Being thus left to his own resources, Tommy Merton, in pursuance of his new resolution, went to the book-shelves and commenced a search which was not destined to be altogether fruitless.
Mr. Barlow had scarcely been in bed two hours, when he was aroused from a most peaceful and refreshing slumber by a loud hammering and knocking at the door of his chamber. Unable to imagine what had happened, and, indeed, fearing lest the premises should have unfortunately caught fire, he was on the point of gathering together such articles of clothing as he considered strictly necessary, when Tommy burst into the room half-undressed, and bawling out, "I've seen it! I've seen it!"
"What have you seen?" asked Mr. Barlow.
"Why, Sir," answered Tommy, "I had a mind to discover, before I went to bed, what you meant by your two jokes at Astley's. So, Sir, I got down your book of Joseph Miller's Jests, a dictionary, and a grammar; and I find that the fun you had intended lies in the similarity of pronunciation in the case of the substantive horse and of the adjective hoarse, and also in feat and feet possessing a like sound."
"Well," said Mr. Barlow, pausing, with a boot-jack in hand, "you are indeed right. And if you will approach a little nearer——"
But Tommy, anticipating the purport of his revered tutor's invitation, had speedily withdrawn himself from the apartment, being careful at the same time to lock Mr. Barlow's door on the outside.
"To-morrow," said Mr. Barlow quietly to himself as he returned to his bed—"To-morrow we will talk over these things."
He now perceived that he was in a condition of unwonted restlessness; and it was not until he had twice repeated to himself the story of The Laplander and the Agreeable Peacock, that he fell asleep.