Voces Populi — At a Music Hall
At a Music Hall.
SCENE.
--_The auditorium of a Music Hall, the patrons of which are respectable, but in no sense "smart."
The occupants of the higher-priced seats appear to have dropped in less for the purpose of enjoying the entertainment than of discussing their private affairs--though this does not prevent them from applauding everything with generous impartiality.
_ THE CHAIRMAN.
Ladies and Gentlemen, the Celebrated Character-Duettists and Variety Artistes, the Sisters Silvertwang, will appear next!
[_They do; they have just sung a duet in praise of Nature with an interspersed step-dance.
"Oh, I love to 'ear the echo on the Moun-ting!"
(Tiddity-iddity-iddity-iddity-um!
) "And to listen to the tinkle of the Foun-ting!"
(Tiddity, &c. )_ A WHITE-CAPPED ATTENDANT (_taking advantage of a pause, plaintively_).
Sengwidges, too-pence!
[Illustration: THE SISTERS SILVERTWANG.
] VOLUBLE LADY _in the Shilling Stalls_ (_telling her Male Companion an interminable story with an evasive point_).
No, but you 'ear what I'm going to _tell_ you, because I'm coming to it presently.
I can't remember his name at this moment--something like Budkin, but it wasn't that, somewhere near Bond Street, he is, or a street off there; a Scotchman, but _that_ doesn't matter!
(_Here she breaks off to hum the Chorus of "Good Ole Mother-in-Law!"
which is being sung on the stage.
_) Well, let me see--what was I telling you?
Wait a minute, excuse _me_, oh, yes,--_well_, there was this picture,--mind you, it's a lovely _painting_, but the frame simply nothing,--not that I go by frames, myself, o' course not, but I fetched it down to show him--oh, I know what you'll say, but he must know _something_ about such things; he knew my uncle, and I can tell you what he _is_--he's a florist, and married nineteen years, and his wife's forty--years older than me, but I've scarcely spoke to _her_, and no children, so I fetched it to show him, and as soon as he sets eyes on it, he says----(FEMALE "CHARACTER-COMIC" _on Stage_, _lugubriously_.
"Ritolderiddle, ol de_ray_ ritolderiddle, olde-_ri_-_ido_!"
) I can't tell you _how_ old it is, but 'undreds of years, and Chinese, I shouldn't wonder, but we can't trace its 'istry--that's what _he_ said, and if _he_ don't know, _nobody_ does, for it stands to reason he must be a judge, though nothing to me,--when I say nothing, I mean all I know of him is that he used to be----(TENOR VOCALIST ON STAGE.
"My Sweetheart when a Bo-oy!"
) I always like that song, don't you?
Well, and this is what I was _wanting_ to tell you, _she_ got to know what I'd done--how is more'n _I_ can tell you, but she did, and she come straight in to where I was, and I see in a minute she'd been drinking, for drink she does, from morning to night, but I don't mind _that_, and her bonnet all on the back of her head, and her voice that 'usky, she----(TENOR.
"She sang a Song of Home Sweet Home--a song that reached my heart!"
) And I couldn't be expected to put up with _that_, you know, but I haven't 'alf told you yet--_well_, &c. , &c. IN THE RESERVED STALLS.
FIRST PROFESSIONAL LADY, "_resting_," _to_ SECOND DITTO (_as_ MISS FLORRIE FOLJAMBE _appears on Stage_).
New dresses to-night.
SECOND DITTO.
Yes.
(_Inspects_ MISS F.' S _costume_.
) Something wrong with that boy's dress in front, though, cut too low.
Is that silver bullion it's trimmed with?
That silver stuff they put on my pantomime-dress has turned quite yellow!
FIRST DITTO.
It will sometimes.
Did you know any of the critics when you were down at Slagtown for the Panto?
SECOND DITTO.
I knew the _Grimeshire Mercury_, and he said most awfully rude things about me in his paper.
I was rather rude to him at rehearsal, but we made it up afterwards.
You know Lily's married, dear?
FIRST DITTO.
What--Lily?
You don't mean it!
SECOND DITTO.
Oh, yes, she _is_, though.
She went out to Buenos Ayres, and the other day she was taken in to dinner by the Bishop of the Friendly Islands.
FIRST DITTO.
A Bishop?
_Fancy!
_ That _is_ getting on, isn't it?
MISS FOLJAMBE (_on Stage, acknowledging an encore_).
Ladies and Gentlemen, I am very much obliged for your kind reception this evening, but having been lately laid up with a bad cold, and almost entirely lost my vice, and being still a little 'orse, I feel compelled to ask your kind acceptance of a few 'ornpipe steps, after which I 'ope to remain, Ladies and Gentlemen, always your obedient 'umble servant to command--Florrie Foljambe!
[_Tumultuous applause, and hornpipe.
_ CHAIRMAN.
Professor Boodler, the renowned Imitator of Birds, will appear next!
THE PROFESSOR (_on Stage_).
Ladies and Gentlemen, I shall commence by an attempt to give you an imitation of that popular and favourite songster the Thrush--better known to some of you, I dare say, as the Throstle, or Mavis!
(_He gives the Thrush--which somehow doesn't "go."
_) I shall next endeavour to represent that celebrated and tuneful singing-bird--the Sky-lark.
(_He does it, but the Lark doesn't quite come off.
_) I shall next try to give you those two sweet singers, the Male and Female Canary--the gentleman in the stalls with the yellow 'air will represent the female bird on this occasion, he must not be offended, for it is a 'igh compliment I am paying him, a harmless professional joke.
(_The Canaries obtain but tepid acknowledgments.
_) I shall now conclude my illustrations of bird-life with my celebrated imitation of a waiter drawing the cork from a bottle of gingerbeer, and drinking it afterwards.
[_Does so; rouses the audience to frantic enthusiasm, and retires after triple recall.
_ THE VOLUBLE LADY _in the Shilling Stalls_ (_during the performance of a Thrilling Melodramatic Sketch_).
I've nothing to say against her 'usban', a quiet, respectable man, and always treated _me_ as a lady, with grey whiskers--but that's neither here nor there--and I speak of parties as I find them--_well_.
_That_ was a Thursday.
On the _Saturday_ there came a knock at my door, and I answered it, and there was she saying, as cool as you please----(HEROINE ON STAGE.
"Ah, no, no--you would not ruin me?
You will not tell my husband?"
) So I told her.
"I'm very sorry," I says, "but I can't lend that frying-pan to nobody."
So I got up.
Two hours _after_, as I was going down stairs, she come out of her room, and says,--"'Allo, Rose, 'ow _are_ yer?"
as if nothing had 'appened.
"Oh, jolly," I says, or somethink o' that sort--_I_ wasn't going to take no notice of _her_--and she says, "Going out?"
--like that.
I says, "Oh, yes; nothing to stay in for," I says, careless-like; so Mrs. Piper, _she_ never said nothing, and _I_ didn't say nothing; and so it went on till Monday--_well_!
Her 'usban' met me in the passage;
and he said to me--good-tempered and civil enough, I _must_ say--he said----(VILLAIN ON STAGE.
"Curse you!
I've had enough of this fooling!
Give me money, or I'll twist your neck, and fling you into yonder mill-dam, to drown!"
) So o' course I'd no objection to that; and all she wanted, in the way of eatables and drink, she _'ad_--no, let me finish _my_ story first.
Well, just fancy _'er_ now!
She asked me to step in;
and she says, "Ow are you?"
and was very nice, and I never said a word--not wishing to bring up the past, and--I didn't tell you _this_--they'd a kind of old easy chair in the room--and the only remark _I_ made, not meaning anythink, was----(HERO ON STAGE.
"You infernal, black-hearted scoundrel!
this is _your_ work, is it?"
) Well, I couldn't ha'put it more pleasant than that, _could_ I?
and old Mr. Fitkin, as was settin' on it, he says to me, he says----(HERO.
"Courage, my darling!
You shall not perish if my strong arms can save you.
Heaven help me to rescue the woman I love better than my life!"
) but he's 'alf silly, so I took no partickler notice of _'im_, when, what did that woman do, after stoopin' to me, as she 'as, times without number--but--Oh, is the play over?
Well, as I was saying--oh, _I'm_ ready to go if you are, and I can tell you the rest walking home.
[_Exit, having thoroughly enjoyed her evening.
_
