Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. 100, April 4, 1891 written by Various
V >>
Various >> Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. 100, April 4, 1891
PUNCH,
OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
VOL. 100.
April 4, 1891.
MR. PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN.
(_CONDENSED AND REVISED VERSION BY MR. P.'S OWN HARMLESS IBSENITE._)
NO. II.-NORA; OR, THE BIRD-CAGE (ET DIKKISVOeIT).
ACT I.
_A Room tastefully filled with cheap Art-furniture. Gimcracks
in an etagere; a festoon of chenille monkeys hanging from
the gaselier. Japanese fans, skeletons, cotton-wool spiders,
frogs, and lizards, scattered everywhere about. Drain-pipes
with tall dyed grasses. A porcelain stove decorated with
transferable pictures. Showily-bound books in book-case.
Window. The Visitors' bell rings in the hall outside. The
hall-door is heard to open, and then to shut. Presently
NORA walks in with parcels; a Porter carries a large
Christmas-tree after her--which he puts down. NORA gives
him a shilling--and he goes out grumbling. NORA hums
contentedly, and eats macaroons. Then HELMER puts his
head out of his Manager's room, and NORA hides macaroons
cautiously._
_Helmer_ (_playfully_). Is that my little squirrel twittering--that my
lark frisking in here?
_Nora_. Ess! (_To herself._) I have only been married eight years, so
these marital amenities have not yet had time to pall!
[Illustration: "Boo!"]
_Helmer_ (_threatening with his finger_). I hope the little bird has
surely not been digging its beak into any macaroons, eh?
_Nora_ (_bolting one, and wiping her mouth_). No, most certainly not.
(_To herself_.) The worst of being so babyish is--one _does_ have to
tell such a lot of taradiddles! (_To H._) See what _I_'ve bought--it's
been _such_ fun!
[_Hums._
_Helmer_ (_inspecting parcels_). H'm--rather an _expensive_ little
lark!
[_Takes her playfully by the ear._
_Nora_. Little birds like to have a flutter occasionally. Which
reminds me--(_Plays with his coat-buttons._) I'm such a simple ickle
sing--but if you _are_ thinking of giving me a Christmas present, make
it cash.
_Helmer_. Just like your poor father, _he_ always asked me to make it
cash--he never made any himself! It's heredity, I suppose. Well--well!
[_Goes back to his Bank. NORA goes on humming._
_Enter Mrs. LINDEN, doubtfully._
_Nora_. What, CHRISTINA--why, how old you look! But then you are
poor. I'm not. TORVALD has just been made a Bank Manager. (_Tidies the
room._) Isn't it really wonderfully delicious to be well off? But,
of course, you wouldn't know. _We_ were poor once, and, do you know,
when TORVALD was ill, I--(_tossing her head_)--though I _am_ such a
frivolous little squirrel, and all that, I actually borrowed L300 for
him to go abroad. Wasn't _that_ clever? Tra-la-la! I shan't tell you
_who_ lent it. I didn't even tell TORVALD. I am such a mere baby I
don't tell him everything. I tell Dr. RANK, though. Oh, I'm so awfully
happy I should like to shout, "Dash it all!"
_Mrs. Linden_ (_stroking her hair_). Do--it is a natural and innocent
outburst--you are such a child! But I am a widow, and want employment.
_Do_ you think your husband could find me a place as clerk in his
Bank? (_Proudly._) I am an excellent knitter!
_Nora_. That would really be awfully funny. (_To HELMER, who
enters._) TORVALD, this is CHRISTINA; she wants to be a clerk in your
Bank--_do_ let her! She thinks such a lot of _you_. (_To herself._)
Another taradiddle!
_Helmer_. She is a sensible woman, and deserves encouragement. Come
along, Mrs. LINDEN, and we'll see what we can do for you.
[_He goes out through the hall with Mrs. L., and the front-door is
heard to slam after them._
_Nora_ (_opens door, and calls_). Now, EMMY, IVAR, and BOB, come
in and have a romp with Mamma--we will play hide-and-seek. (_She
gets under the table, smiling in quiet satisfaction; KROGSTAD
enters--NORA pounces out upon him_). Boo!... Oh, I _beg_ your
pardon. I don't do this kind of thing _generally_--though I may be a
little silly!
_Krogstad_ (_politely_). Don't mention it. I called because I happened
to see your husband go out with MRS. LINDEN--from which, being a
person of considerable penetration, I infer that he is about to give
her my post at the Bank. Now, as you owe me the balance of L300,
for which I hold your acknowledgment, you will see the propriety of
putting a stop to this little game at once.
_Nora_. But I don't at all--not a little wee bit! I'm so childish, you
know--why _should_ I? [_Sitting upright on carpet._
_Krogs._ I will try to make it plain to the meanest capacity. When
you came to me for the loan, I naturally required some additional
security. Your father, being a shady Government official, without a
penny--for, if he had possessed one, he would, presumably, have left
it to you--without a penny, then, I, as a cautious man of business,
insisted upon having his signature as a surety. Oh, we Norwegians are
sharp fellows!
_Nora_. Well, you _got_ Papa's signature, didn't you?
_Krogs._ Oh, I _got_ it right enough. Unfortunately, it was dated
three days after his decease--now, how do you account for _that_?
_Nora_. How? Why, as poor Papa was dead, and couldn't sign, I signed
_for_ him, that's all! Only somehow I forgot to put the date back.
_That's_ how. Didn't I _tell_ you I was a silly, unbusinesslike little
thing? It's very simple.
_Krogs._ Very--but what you did amounts to forgery, notwithstanding.
I happen to know, because I'm a lawyer, and have done a little in the
forging way myself. So, to come to the point--if _I_ get kicked out, I
shall not go alone! [_He bows, and goes out._
_Nora_. It _can't_ be wrong! Why no one but KROGSTAD would have been
taken in by it! If the Law says it's wrong, the Law's a goose--a
bigger goose than poor little me even! (_To HELMER, who enters_.)
Oh, TORVALD, how you made me jump!
_Helmer_. Has anybody called? (_NORA shakes her head_.) Oh, my little
squirrel mustn't tell naughty whoppers! Why, I just met that fellow
KROGSTAD in the hall. He's been asking you to get me to take him
back--now, hasn't he?
_Nora_ (_walking about_). Do just see how pretty the Christmas-tree
looks!
_Helmer_. Never mind the tree--I want to have this out about KROGSTAD.
I can't take him back, because many years ago he forged a name. As a
lawyer, a close observer of human nature, and a Bank Manager, I have
remarked that people who forge names seldom or never confide the fact
to their children--which inevitably brings moral contagion into the
entire family. From which it follows, logically, that KROGSTAD has
been poisoning his children for years by acting a part, and is morally
lost. (_Stretches out his hands to her._) I can't bear a morally lost
Bank-cashier about me!
_Nora_. But you never thought of dismissing him till CHRISTINA came!
_Helmer_. H'm! I've got some business to attend to--so good-bye,
little lark! [_Goes into office and shuts door._
_Nora_ (_pale with terror_). If KROGSTAD poisons his children because
he once forged a name, I must be poisoning EMMY, and BOB, and IVAR,
because _I_ forged Papa's signature! (_Short pause; she raises
her head proudly._) After all, if I _am_ a doll, I can still
draw a logical induction! I mustn't play with the children any
more--(_hotly_)--I don't care--I _shall_, though! Who cares for
KROGSTAD?
[_She makes a face, choking with suppressed tears, as Curtain
falls._
N.B.--The tremendous psychological problem of whether NORA is as much
of a doll, a squirrel, and a lark, as she seems, and if so, whether
it is her own fault, or HELMER's or Society's, will be solved in
subsequent numbers.
* * * * *
BETTER LATE THAN NEVER.--At last by the authority of the L.C.C. his
Grace of BEDFORD has been notified that within three months from
now "Locks, bolts, and bars must fly asunder" in the parish of St.
Pancras, where henceforth existence of all such obstruction is to
cease. We hope that the gate-keepers, whose occupation is gone, have
been amply provided for, as they will now have no gates, but only
themselves to keep. _Mr. Punch_ has persistently advocated the reform.
And now, Gentlemen, how about Mud Salad Market, which, like Scotland
in _Macbeth's_ time, "stands where it did"?
* * * * *
[Illustration: FASCINATION!
"APOLLONIUS, by some probable conjectures, found her out to be a
serpent, a Lamia; and that all her furniture was, like Tantalus's
gold described by HOMER, no substance, but mere illusion."--_Burton's
Anatomy of Melancholy._]
A LAMIA, this? Nay, obvious coil, and hiss most unequivocal, betray the
Snake;
As fell ophidian as in fierce meridian of Afric ever lurked in swamp or
brake;
And yet Corinthian LYCIUS never doted on the white-throated charmer of
his soul
With blinder passion than our fools of Fashion
Feel for this gruesome ghoul.
Poor LYCIUS had excuse. Who might refuse worship to Lamia, "now a lady
bright"?
But foul-fanged here, fierce-eyed, a shape of fear, the serpent stands,
revealed to general sight,
A loathly thing, close knotted ring on ring, of guise unlovely, and
infectious breath;
And yet strong witchery draws to those wide jaws
Whose touch is shameful death.
See how the flattering things on painted wings, foolish as gnat-swarms
near the shrivelling blaze,
Flock nearer, nearer! Forms, too, quainter, queerer, frog-dupes of folly,
rabbit-thralls of craze,
Butterfly triflers, gay-plumed would-be riflers of golden chalices, of
poisoned flowers,
Flitter and flutter in delirium utter,
As drawn by wizard powers.
Oh, "Painted Lady," Summer coverts shady, the greenwood home, the sweep
of sunny fields,
A butterfly befit; but where's the wit that mire-befouled to the
swamp-demon yields?
Oh, birds of Iris-glitter, black and bitter will be the wakening when
those gaudy plumes
Fall crushed and leaden, as your senses deaden
In poisonous Python fumes!
Ye _gobemouche_ creatures of batrachian features, who "go a-wooing" such
a fate as this,
Have ye no vision of that doom's decision? Have ye no ear for rattle or
for hiss?
Salammbo's craving, morbid and enslaving, was sanity compared with your
mad love,
As well the swallow the fierce shrike might follow,
Or hawk be chased by dove!
Tantalus' gold is all such Lamias hold; 'tis Devil's dice such Mammon
vassals throw;
A sordid fever fires each fool-believer in the gross glitter, the unholy
glow.
Vile is your Dagon! Circe's venomed flagon embruted less than doth the
Lamia's wine,
Than Comus' cup more perilous to sup--
As snakes are worse than swine.
The poet's snake enchanted, who so flaunted her borrowed robes amidst the
daffodils,
Hath piteous touches. She, from Fate's clutches, free some brief space,
"escaped from so sore ills,"
Moves our compassion. But this modern fashion of Snake Enchanter looks
unlovely all.
Greed's inspiration its sole fascination.
Low selfishness its thrall.
"A Serpent!" So the Sophist murmured low, and "LYCIUS' arms were empty of
delight,"
LAMIA had fled! Would that some sage cool head, some modern APOLLONIUS,
with the might
Of sense magnanimous, would banish thus the bestial Lamia of our later day,
Whose fascination draws a noble nation
To sordid slow decay!
* * * * *
DANTE NOT "IN IT"!--The Italian language is to be excluded from the
Indian Civil Service Examination. "The story is extant, and written
in very choice Italian," said _Hamlet_, and SHAKSPEARE knew that the
reference would be intelligible to his audience. But _Hamlet_ "up to
date" in this "so-called nineteenth century" would be compelled to
give the speech thus, "The original story, I believe, is written in
the Italian language, with which none of us here are acquainted."
But, after all, the candidates may be inclined to adapt the
Gilbert-Sullivan words and music to the occasion, and sing--
"So, in spite of all temptation,
At the next examination
They'll bar I-tal-i-an!"
Though, years hence, it may happen that they'll be sorry they weren't
compelled to get up Italian as one of the subjects.
* * * * *
"O WOMAN, IN OUR HOUR OF EASE!"--which line would make a suitable
motto for our very useful, chatty, and interesting weekly contemporary
entitled _Woman. A propos_ of "headings," the only one in the
above-mentioned publication to which objection can possibly be taken
"on the face of it" is "Wrinkles." Wouldn't "Whispers" be better? It
is quite enough for _Woman_ to appear with lines, but it's too bad
that wrinkles should be added while she is yet so young.
* * * * *
"CHARLES OUR FRIEND."--Once again occurs an illustration of the
applicability of Dickensian characters to modern instances. In last
Thursday's _Times_, by special Razzle-Dalziel wire, we read of the
return of another great Arctic explorer, Mr. WASHBURTON PIKE, after
having braved dangers demanding the most dauntless courage. Here,
then, are two single gentlemen rolled into one: it is _Pike_ and
_Pluck_ combined.
* * * * *
[Illustration: BEATUS POSSIDENS.
"I'VE COME ABOUT A JOB. I HEARD THERE WAS A BOY WANTED."
"OH, YOU 'EARD AS THERE WAS A BOY WANTED, DID YER? THEN YOU'RE JUST
TOO LATE, 'COS MASTER'S SOOTED!"]
* * * * *
WANTED FOR THE ETON LOAN COLLECTION.
1. The earliest specimen of the Birch. (_Suggested by a Merry Swish
Boy._)
2. Salt-cellar used for holding the Salt at Montem time.
3. Specimen of Haberdashery, from an Eton "Sock" shop.
4. Model of the most powerful "Long-glass" from "Tap."
5. Chips from the Earliest Block, with authentic history of Etonian
Original Transgression, or "First Fault."
6. Documents tracing the connection between "Pop" and the Pawnbroking
business.
7. Specimen of Lower Boy's Hat, with motto, "_Sub Tegmine Fag-I!_"
8. Portraits of Eminent "Sitters" on Fourth of June and Election
Saturday in the early part of present century.
9. Scull of a "Wet-Bob" originally feathered.
10. A copy (perfect and signed) of another boy's verses. (N.B. Not
very scarce.)
11. Portraits of eminent Landlords who, acting on SHERIDAN's advice,
have "kept up the Xtopher."
12. Also, portrait, with life and times of the crabbed old Thames
Waterman, known on the river as "Surly HALL."
[Any future suggestions that maybe sent to us will be entirely
at the service of the Duke of FIFE and others, interested in
promoting this most interesting exhibition.]
* * * * *
A PUBLISHER AND HIS FRIENDS.--In order to worthily celebrate the
hearty reception, by the critics and the public generally, of this
most interesting and successful work, the present representatives of
the great publishing firm of MURRAY will give a grand banquet, and,
with SMILES, will sing in chorus the once popular refrain, "We are a
Murray family, we are, we are, we are!" _Prosit!_
* * * * *
TO THOSE IT MAY CONCERN.--In reply to several Correspondents, _Mr.
Punch_ begs to suggest that ANTHONY TROLLOPE would certainly have
observed, "_I say Yes!_" had he been told that WILKIE COLLINS had
written "_I Say No!_"
* * * * *
THE WAY OF WESTMINSTER.
(_A STORY OF THE PARLIAMENTARY BAR._)
"You will not forget, Sir," said my excellent and admirable clerk,
"that to-morrow you have to appear before a Committee of the House of
Commons, in the matter of the Glogsweller Railway Extension?"
[Illustration]
I glanced somewhat severely at PORTINGTON, but was gratified to find
that his face was quite free from any suggestion of levity. I was
the more pleased with the result of my investigation, as, truth to
tell, the delivery of a brief in the matter of the Extension of the
Glogsweller Railway Company had been somewhat of an event in my life.
I had never before had the honour of practising at the Parliamentary
Bar. So for months my mind had been entirely occupied with the date
fixed for my appearance in the Committee Room of the House of Commons,
known technically, I believe, at St. Stephens, as "upstairs."
"You will be sure to meet me there, to-morrow, PORTINGTON?" I
observed.
"Certainly, Sir," replied my clerk. "But, as I have to be down at the
Mayor's Court with Mr. CHARLES O'MULLIGAN in the morning, I daresay
you won't mind if I come with your sandwiches and sherry, Sir, at two,
or thereabouts."
I acquiesced, somewhat unwillingly. O'MULLIGAN shares with me the good
offices of PORTINGTON, but generally contrives to secure the lion's
portion of his services. I had arranged--understanding that no
adjournment was made for luncheon--that some refreshment should be
conveyed to me during the day's proceedings, so that my voice should
lose none of its wonted resonance (owing to famine-produced weakness)
when the time arrived for my advocacy of the cause of my clients.
Those clients had, so to speak, but a collateral interest in the day's
proceedings. The great North-East Diddlesex Railway were promoting
a Bill to carry a new line into the neighbourhood of the Glogsweller
Extension, and my duty was confined to cross-examining one of the
expert witnesses that I knew would be asked to support the G.N.E.D.R.
To be candid, we had a goods depot near their suggested terminus, and
were fearful that their proposed proximity would damage our mineral
traffic. The matter was simple enough, but I had taken months in
carefully studying a small library of charts, Encyclopaedias, and
Parliamentary Blue Books, in mastering it.
On the morning following my conversation with PORTINGTON, duly robed
(I had put on my wig and gown in Chambers), I travelled by hansom
to Westminster, and presented myself at the side entrance to St.
Stephen's Hall. I had no difficulty in finding the Committee Room
devoted to the consideration of the alleged necessities of the Great
North-East Diddlesex Railway. It was a large and pleasant apartment,
with a distant view through the windows of St. Thomas's Hospital. At
a horse-shoe table sat the Committee, some four or five gentlemen, who
might have filled equally appropriately any one of the pews reserved
in the Royal Courts for the accommodation of a Special Jury. I took
my place amongst a number of my learned brethren, who were perfect
strangers to me. The table in front of us was littered with plans,
charts, and documents of all descriptions. A Q.C. brought with him
a large bag of buns, and two cups of custard, and there were other
refreshments mingled with the exhibits before us. On chairs at the
side were Solicitors; at our back, separated from us by a bar,
were the Public. On the walls were hanging huge charts, giving in
pantomimic proportions the proposed progress of the projected line.
In the corners of these charts were explanations why such a part
was coloured green, or red, or blue. During the day's proceedings an
attendant was told off to trace the course of a counsel's harangue by
pointing out, with a lecturer's wand, the various places referred to
in his speech.
I was gratified to find that the expert whose evidence it was my duty
to test by cross-examination, was soon in the witness-box. He was a
gentleman of considerable bulk, which gave one of my learned friends,
who was the first to take him in hand, the opportunity of saying,
that he was a "witness of great weight," a remark which caused much
laughter--even the Chairman of the Committee, a somewhat austere
person, indulging in a stealthy smile at the ingenious sally. Such
waggish flashes as this, I need scarcely say, were most welcome, and
afforded, when they came, a pleasant relief to the necessary dryness
that characterised, perforce, the proceedings. As the hands of the
clock progressed, waiters carried into the Committee, various light
refreshments, such as brandy-and-sodawater, sandwiches, and buns. My
colleagues, too, when not actively engaged in the declamatory duties
of their profession, partook of the viands with which they had
provided themselves before the commencement of the day's labours. Thus
the cups devoted to custard soon were empty, and the paper bags, once
occupied by buns, crumpled up and discarded. I gazed at the clock.
It was past two, and I was getting terribly hungry. I felt that my
voice was becoming weak from famine. This would never do, and might
endanger my clients' interests. I looked round eagerly for PORTINGTON.
He was nowhere to be seen. I whispered to a colleague, "would the
examination-in-chief last much longer?" and was told it could not
possibly be concluded within a quarter of an hour. I made up my mind
to hasten to a refreshment-bar I had seen in the corridor before I had
entered the room, and hurriedly left my seat. I pushed my way through
the public, and had scarcely got outside when I found my faithful
clerk laden with sandwiches and sherry making post-haste towards me.
"Get back, Sir, as quick as you can," he cried, as he thrust the
invigorating ingredients of my midday meal into my hands; "run, Sir,
run; I hope they haven't noticed your absence!"
Rather offended at the peremptory tone adopted by my subordinate
I returned to my seat, and was pleased to find that the
examination-in-chief was nearly ended. I pulled myself together.
I drank a glass of sherry and finished a sandwich. My voice was in
excellent tone, and I felt that the crisis of my life had indeed been
reached. I knew that it was now or never. I had this great chance of
distinguishing myself by pleasing my clients and securing a practice
at the Parliamentary Bar, which might mean hundreds, nay, thousands
a-year. I imagined my children at Eton, my wife in a carriage and
pair, my address in Grosvenor Place. All I had to do to secure these
tardily-attained luxuries was to protect my clients by my careful
attention to their interests. The moment at length arrived. I rose to
cross-examine.
"And now, Sir," I said; feeling that I was master of the situation,
and that my voice had a magnificent resonance, which was striking
terror into the heart of the witness before me, _I_ am going to put a
few questions to you!"
"I beg pardon," said the Chairman, promptly--"you will do nothing of
the sort. You were not present during the _whole_ of the witness's
* * * * *
I could have wept! The momentary search for sandwiches and sherry had
ruined me! Eton and Grosvenor Place vanished together (in the carriage
and pair) for ever!
_Pump-Handle Court_. (_Signed_) A. BRIEFLESS, JUNIOR.
* * * * *
OLLENDORFF IN LONDON;
OR, THE COCKNEY'S FAMILIAR PHRASE-BOOK.
NO. I.--AT THE ESTATE AGENT'S.
Have you some nice houses to let furnished?--Here is our Catalogue,
Sir.--I perceive that most of these are Queen Anne houses; "sanitation
perfect;" where is the satisfactory explanation of the fine
advertisement?--It is in Spain with the other castles (idiom).--What
is "Queen Anne"?--Victoria comes first, Elizabeth second, but
Queen Anne is (the) last.--Is then sanitation also something?--It
is the little game of the big builder; it is all your (my, his,
her,) eyes.--Can we have some nice furniture?--You can have (the
furniture of) Chippendale, Sheraton, M'Adam, or Louis-Quinze.--It
is too dear.--No, Sir; my brother bought it yesterday of the clever
carpenter.--I was done by you or by your brother; I require a room
for my mother-in-law (neuter).--The good mother-in-law sleeps in the
chamber of boxes (box-room), but the evil mother-in-law prefers the
best bed-room.--How many persons are you?--We are sixteen.--You are,
indeed, suited, Sir; it is an eight-roomed house.--Is not the noble
drawing-room smaller than we have a mind to?--On the contrary,
it is very lofty. There is room near the chandelier.--Where is
the "moderate-sized garden"?--It is on the leads with the broken
flower-pots, the capital smuts, and the industrious cats (masculine
or feminine).--Is it then much larger than a postage-stamp?--Decidedly
not, Sir. It is also nearly as sticky. Much rain produces
weeds.--Where are "the bath-rooms"? I only perceived a
watering-pot.--Any rooms in which you put baths, are bath-rooms.--What
is then the price?--The exorbitant client of the first-class agent
demands four hundred guineas for the season.--It is too much.--He
would take less in some minutes; but my commission will rest the
same.--Here are "Commanding mansions," "Bijou maisonettes," and
"Desirable residences."--It is not difficult; the mansion that has a
back-staircase is commanding, the "Bijou" is for the newly-married, or
the actress, but the "Desirable residence" is what you desire.--What
is then the "square hall"?--It is neither round nor oblong; therefore
it is square. It is likewise in a square.--Is it geometrically the
same as the Bridge of Asses?--I do not know. Sir.--Where is the
capital accommodation for the poor servants?--It resembles the
dark kennel of the sad dog.--What are dilapidations and electric
light?--The first, Sir, is what you break; the second is what breaks
_you_.--If I were to let my own house, and then to myself take it,
would it be on the same terms?--No, the buyer is usually sold, but
the seller loves the first of April.--If another agent were to let my
house, would you, likewise, expect commission?--Why not? I am the best
friend of the little lawyer with the long nose.--I was inquiring of
you about flats.--It were better that you should be _sharp_, Sir.--I
was not born yesterday (proverb.)--Right (adjective) you are, Sir; we
will write (verb) to you till you take or let something, not alone
I, but also some others; if you refuse me something, I will be very
discontented.--Have you ever let well alone? (idiom).--We have let
many things alone (bare), but you must, notwithstanding, pay for
the fixtures.--I think I will be going.--Here are pens, paper, and
a form of an attorney.--No, I thank you.--We shall not charge for
this interview, but one must live.--I do not see the necessity
(_v_. Anecdotes in Appendix).--The Necessity is the mother of the
inventory.--Who is the Caretaker?--She is the great-grandmother of the
superannuated laundress. She becomes sleepy during the Winter. Shall
we send her to your house?--Not if I know it (expletive). Receive
the assurance (insurance) of my highest consideration. By the bye
(interjection), which is the topmost storey?--The topmost story is the
last thing you have heard me mention. I salute you, Sir.