TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE.

Some pages of this work have been moved from the original sequence to enable the contents to continue without interruption. The page numbering remains unaltered.

PUNCH LIBRARY OF HUMOUR

Edited by J. A. Hammerton

Designed to provide in a series of volumes, each complete in itself, the cream of our national humour, contributed by the masters of comic draughtsmanship and the leading wits of the age to "Punch," from its beginning in 1841 to the present day.

MR. PUNCH AT THE PLAY

Actor (on the stage). "Me mind is made up!"

Voice from the Gallery. "What abeaout yer fice?"

MR. PUNCH AT THE PLAY

HUMOURS OF MUSIC AND THE DRAMA

WITH 140 ILLUSTRATIONS

BY CHARLES KEENE, PHIL MAY,
GEORGE DU MAURIER, BERNARD PARTRIDGE,
L. RAVEN-HILL, E. T. REED,
F. H. TOWNSEND, C. E. BROCK,
A. S. BOYD, TOM BROWNE,
EVERARD HOPKINS AND OTHERS

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT WITH THE
PROPRIETORS OF "PUNCH"

THE EDUCATIONAL BOOK CO. LTD

.

THE PUNCH LIBRARY OF HUMOUR

Twenty-five volumes, crown 8vo. 192 pages fully illustrated
LIFE IN LONDON
COUNTRY LIFE
IN THE HIGHLANDS
SCOTTISH HUMOUR
IRISH HUMOUR
COCKNEY HUMOUR
IN SOCIETY
AFTER DINNER STORIES
IN BOHEMIA
AT THE PLAY
MR. PUNCH AT HOME
ON THE CONTINONG
RAILWAY BOOK
AT THE SEASIDE
MR. PUNCH AFLOAT
IN THE HUNTING FIELD
MR. PUNCH ON TOUR
WITH ROD AND GUN
MR. PUNCH AWHEEL
BOOK OF SPORTS
GOLF STORIES
IN WIG AND GOWN
ON THE WARPATH
BOOK OF LOVE
WITH THE CHILDREN

BEFORE THE CURTAIN

Most of the Punch artists of note have used their pencils on the theatre; with theatricals public and private none has done more than Du Maurier. All have made merry over the extravagances of melodrama and "problem" plays; the vanity and the mistakes of actors, actresses and dramatists; and the blunderings of the average playgoer.

Mr. Punch genially satirises the aristocratic amateurs who, some few years ago, made frantic rushes into the profession, and for a while enjoyed more kudos as actors than they had obtained as titled members of the upper circle, and the exaggerated social status that for the time accrued to the professional actor as a consequence of this invasion.

The things he has written about the stage, quite apart from all reviewing of plays, would more than fill a book of itself; and he has slyly and laughingly satirised players, playwrights and public with an equal impartiality.

He has got a deal of fun out of the French dramas and the affected pleasure taken in them by audiences that did not understand the language. He has got even more fun out of the dramatists whose "original plays" were largely translated from the French, and to whom Paris was, and to some extent is still, literally and figuratively "a playground."

MR. PUNCH AT THE PLAY

SOMETHING FOR THE MONEY

(From the Playgoers' Conversation Book. Coming Edition.)

I have only paid three guineas and a half for this stall, but it is certainly stuffed with the very best hair.

The people in the ten-and-sixpenny gallery seem fairly pleased with their dado.

I did not know the call-boy was at Eton.

The expenses of this house must be enormous, if they always play Box and Cox with a rasher of real Canadian bacon.

How nice to know that the musicians, though out of sight under the stage, are in evening dress on velvet cushions!

Whoever is the author of this comedy, he has not written up with spirit to that delightful Louis the Fifteenth linen cupboard.

I cannot catch a word "Macbeth" is saying, but I can see at a glance that his kilt would be extremely cheap at seventy pounds.

I am not surprised to hear that the "Tartar's lips" for the cauldron alone add nightly something like fifty-five-and-sixpence to the expenses.

Do not bother me about the situation when I am looking at the quality of the velvet pile.

Since the introduction of the live hedgehog into domestic drama obliged the management to raise the second-tier private boxes to forty guineas, the Duchess has gone into the slips with an order.

They had, perhaps, better take away the champagne-bottle and the diamond-studded whistle from the prompter.

Ha! here comes the chorus of villagers, provided with real silk pocket-handkerchiefs.

It is all this sort of thing that elevates the drama, and makes me so contented to part with a ten-pound note for an evening's amusement.

Pantomime Child (to admiring friend). "Yus, and there's another hadvantage in bein' a hactress. You get yer fortygraphs took for noffink!"

The Height of Literary Necessity.—"Spouting" Shakspeare.

When are parsons bound in honour not to abuse theatres?
When they take orders.

What Vote the Manager of a Theatre always has.—The "casting" vote.

"Stand not on the Order of your Going."—An amiable manager says the orders which he issues for the pit and gallery are what in his opinion constitute "the lower orders."

Great Theatrical Effect.—During a performance of Macbeth at the Haymarket, the thunder was so natural that it turned sour a pint of beer in the prompter's-box.

The Drama.

"'Ere, I say, 'Liza, we've seen this 'ere play before!" "No, we ain't." [Wordy argument follows.] "Why, don't you remember, same time as Bill took us to the 'Pig an' Whistle,' an' we 'ad stewed eels for supper?" "Oh lor! Yes, that takes me back to it!"

TRUE APPRECIATION

(Overheard at the Theatre)

Mrs. Parvenu. "I don't know that I'm exackly gone on Shakspeare Plays."

[Mr. P. agrees.

Conversationalist. "Do you play ping-pong?"

Actor. "No. I play Hamlet!"

To Actors who are not worth a Thought.—We notice that there is a book called "Acting and Thinking." This is to distinguish it, we imagine, from the generality of acting, in which there is mostly no thinking?

A Crusher.—Country Manager (to Mr. Agrippa Snap, the great London critic, who has come down to see the production of a piece on trial.) And what do you think, sir, of our theatre and our players?

Agrippa Snap (loftily). Well, frankly, Mr. Flatson, your green-room's better than your company.

The higher walk of the drama

"Auntie, can you do that?"

Theatrical managers are so often accused of being unable to break with tradition, that it seems only fair to point out that several of them have recently produced plays, in which the character of "Hamlet" does not appear at all.

ON A DRAMATIC AUTHOR

"Yes, he's a plagiarist," from Tom this fell,

"As to his social faults, sir, one excuses 'em;

'Cos he's good natured, takes a joke so well."

"True," cries an author, "he takes mine and uses 'em."

THE MANAGER'S COMPLAINT

She danced among the unfinished ways

That merge into the Strand,

A maid whom none could fail to praise,

And very few withstand.

A sylph, accepted for the run,

Not at a weekly wage;

Fair as a star when only one

Is shining on the stage.

She met a lord, and all men know

How soon she'd done with me;

Now she is in Debrett, oh, and,

That's where they all would be!

A First Night.

Indignant Playwright (to leading actor, behind the scenes). "Confound it, man, you've absolutely murdered the piece!" Leading Actor. "Pardon me, but I think the foul play is yours!"

Smart. How do, Smooth? (to theatrical manager, who frowns upon him). What's the matter, eh?

Smooth. Matter? Hang it, Smart, you wrote me down in "The Stinger."

Smart (repressing something Shakspearian about "writing down" which occurs to him, continues pleasantly). Wrote you down? No, I said the piece was a bad one, because I thought it was; a very bad one.

Smooth. Bad! (Sarcastically.) You were the only man who said so.

Smart (very pleasantly). My dear fellow, I was the only man who saw it. Good-bye.

[Exeunt severally.

Motto for a Box-Office Keeper.—"So much for booking 'em."

"A considerable demonstration of approval greeted the fall of the curtain." How are we to take this?

"The Desire of the Moth for the Star.

Mistress. "And you dare to tell me, Belinda, that you have actually answered a theatrical advertisement? How could you be such a wicked girl?" Belinda (whimpering). "Well, mum,—other young lidies—gow on the—stige—why shouldn't I gow?"

The Counter-Check Quarrelsome.

Mr. Æsopus Delasparre. "I will ask you to favour me, madam, by refraining from laughing at me on the stage during my third act." Miss Jones (sweetly). "Oh, but I assure you you're mistaken, Mr. Delasparre; I never laugh at you on the stage—I wait till I get home!"

Sweeping Assertion.

"The other night, at the Novelty Theatre, Mrs. Vere-Jones was gowned simply in a clinging black velvet, with a cloak of same handsomely trimmed with ermine."—Extract from Society Journal.

DRAMATIC NOTES OF THE FUTURE

[A little cheild is the hero of Everybody's Secret; the curtain rises upon four little cheildren in Her Own Way; there are cheildren of various ages in Alice-Sit-by-the-fire.]

Mr. Barrie's new play, The Admirable Crèche, will be presented to-morrow. We understand that there is a pretty scene in the third act in which several grown-ups are discovered smoking cigars. It may confidently be predicted that all the world will rush to the "Duke of York's" to see this novelty. The Admirable Crèche will be preceded at 8.30 by Bassinette—A Plea for a Numerous Family, a one-act play by Theodore Roosevelt and Louis N. Parker.

Little Baby Wilkins is making quite a name with her wonderful rendering of "Perdita" in the Haymarket version of A Winter's Tale. As soon as actor-manager Wilkins realised the necessity of cutting the last two acts (in which "Perdita" is grown up) the play was bound to succeed. By the way, Mr. E. H. Cooper's new book, "Perditas I have Known," is announced.

Frankly, we are disappointed in Mr. Pinero's new play, Little Arthur, produced at Wyndham's last week. It treated of the old old theme—the love of the hero for his nurse. To be quite plain, this stale triangle, mother—son—nurse, is beginning to bore us. Are there no other themes in every-day life which Mr. Pinero might take? Could he not, for instance, give us an analysis of the mind of a young genius torn between the necessity for teething and the desire to edit a great daily? Duty calls him both ways: his duty to himself and his duty to the public. Imagine a Wilkins in such a scene!

The popular editor of the "Nursery," whose unrivalled knowledge of children causes him to be referred to everywhere as our greatest playwright, is a little at sea in his latest play, Rattles. In the first act he rashly introduces (though by this time he should know his own limitations) two grown-ups at lunch—Mr. Jones the father, and Dr. Brown, who discuss Johnny's cough. Now we would point out to Mr. Crouper that men of their age would be unlikely to have milk for lunch; and that they would not say "Yeth, pleath"—unless of Hebraic origin, and Mr. Crouper does not say so anywhere. Mr. Crouper must try and see something of grown-ups before he writes a play of this kind again.

We regret to announce that Cecil Tomkins, doyen of actor-managers, is down again with mumps.

MODERN IMPRESSIONIST ART. A MUSICAL COMEDY

AT THE PREMIÈRE

Lady in Front Row (to her neighbour, towards the end of the second act). "Who is this man next me, who's just come in,—do you know? He doesn't seem to be paying the smallest attention to the play!"

Her Neighbour. "Oh, I expect he's a critic. He's probably made up his mind long ago what he's going to say of the piece; but he's just dropped in to confirm his suspicions."

No First-Nighter.—First Man in the Street. See the eclipse last night?

Second Man in the Street. No. Thought it might be crowded. Put off going till next week.

THE BILL OF THE PLAY

Amenities of the Profession.

Rising Young Dramatist. "Saw your wife in front last night. What did she think of my new comedy?"

Brother Playwright. "Oh, I think she liked it. She told me she had a good laugh."

R. Y. D. "Ah—er—when was that?"

B. P. "During the entr'acte. One of the attendants dropped an ice down her neighbour's neck."

THE HIGHER EDUCATION OF WOMEN

Dora (consulting a playbill). "Only fancy! 'As You Like It' is by Shakspeare!"

Private Theatricals.

A Rehearsal.—The Captain. "At this stage of the proceedings I've got to kiss you, Lady Grace. Will your husband mind, do you think?"

Lady Grace. "Oh no! It's for a charity, you know!"

An Infant Roscius.

Stage Manager (interviewing children with the idea of engaging them for a new play). "Has this child been on the stage?"

Proud Mother. "No; but he's been on an inquest, and he speaks up fine!"

A Soliloquy.

Tragedian. "Cheap. Ha, ha! Why in my time they threw them at us!"

"Well, papa, how did you enjoy the play to-night?"

"Oh, I think I enjoyed it fairly well, my dear. I've got a general sort of idea that I didn't go to sleep over it!"

Enthusiastic Lady Amateur. "Oh, what a pity! We've just missed the first act!"

Languid Friend. "Have we? Ah—rather glad. I always think the chief pleasure of going to a theatre is trying to make out what the first act was about!"

Theatrical.—When it is announced that an actor will be supported by the entire company, it is not thereby meant that the said professional is sustained in his arduous part solely by draughts of Barclay, Perkins and Co.

The wretch who refuses to take his wife to the theatre deserves to be made to sit out a play.

Good "Piece" of Furniture for Theatrical Managers.—A chest of "drawers."

Regeneration of the British Drama.—There are at this moment three English managers in Paris "in search of novelty!" More: three distinguished members of the Dramatic Authors' Society started for France last night.

"As Good as a Play."—Performing a funeral.

A Plant in Season.—Now is the time of year when managers of theatres show a botanical taste, for there is not one of them who does not do his best to have a great rush at his doors.

The Dramatic Author's Playground.—Paris.

Theatrical Note.—Net profits are generally the result of a good "cast."

"Shakspeare and the first Quart O"

"Shakspeare and the last Quart O"

A Dubious Compliment..—Rector's Wife (after harvest festival). Well, Mrs. Piggleswade, how did you like the Bishop's sermon?

Mrs. Piggleswade. Oh! ma'am, I ain't been so much upset since my old man took me to the wariety theayter in London last August twelve-month, and 'eard a gen'leman sing about his grandmother's cat.

There was a poor actor on the Norwich circuit who squinted most dreadfully: he was put up on one occasion for "Lear." "We must succeed," said the manager, "for there never was a Lear with so strong a cast."

A Richmond Dinner.—A shouting actor who performs the part.

BY DEPUTY

As Shakspeare could not write his plays

(If Mrs. Gallup's not mistaken),

I think how wise in many ways

He was to have them done by Bacon;

They might have mouldered on the shelf,

Mere minor dramas (and he knew it!)

If he had written them himself

Instead of letting Bacon do it.

And if it's true, as Brown and Smith

In many learned tomes have stated,

That Homer was an idle myth,

He ought to be congratulated;

Since, thus evading birth, he rose

For men to worship from a distance:

He might have penned inferior prose

Had he achieved a real existence.

To him and Shakspeare some agree

In making very nice allusions,

But no one thinks of praising me,

For I composed my own effusions:

As others wrote their works divine,

And they immortal thus to day are,

If someone else had written mine

I might have been as great as they are!

Famous Lion Comique (to his agent, who is not much of a cigar smoker). "What did you think of that cigar as I give you the other day?"

Agent. "Well, the first night I liked it well enough. But the second night I didn't like it so well. And the third I didn't like it at all!"

Numerous applications were received by the manager of Covent Garden from "professionals" wishing to take part in The Forty Thieves. It was not found possible to offer engagements to the following (amongst others):—

The Thief—who stole a march.

The Thief—in the candle.

The Thief—who was set to catch a thief.

The Thief—who stole the "purse" and found it "trash."

The Thief—who stole up-stairs.

The Thief—of time, alias procrastination, and—

The Thief—who stole a kiss (overwhelming number of applicants).