SCENE--_A Public Hall in a provincial town. The Hypnotist--a
tall, graceful, and handsome young man, in well-fitting
evening clothes--has already succeeded in putting most of
his subjects to sleep, and is going round and inspecting them
critically, as they droop limply on a semicircle of chairs,
in a variety of unpicturesque attitudes. The only Lady on
the platform is evidently as yet in full possession of her
senses._
_First Female Spectator_ (_to Second_). MARIA MANGLES do take a time
sending off, don't she?
_Second F.S._ (_also a friend of Miss MANGLES_). Yes, that she do--it
gives her such a silly look, sitting there, the on'y one with her
senses about her!
_First F.S._ It's all affectation--she could shut her eyes fast enough
if she _liked_!
_Second F.S._ The 'Ipnotiser's coming round to her now--she'll _have_
to go off now. (_With a not unpleasurable anticipation_.) I expect
he'll make her do all manner o' ridic'lous things!
_First F.S._ Well, it will be a lesson, to her against making' herself
so conspicuous another time. I shan't pity her.
_The Hyp._ (_after a brief colloquy with Miss MANGLES_). I see I am
not likely to succeed with this Lady; so, with many thanks to her on
behalf of myself and the audience for coming forward, I will detain
her no longer.
[Illustration: "I do. Lovely creature!"]
[_Applause, amidst which Miss M. descends to her seat in the
body of the hall, with a smile of conscious triumph._
_First F.S._ (_disappointed_). I don't see what she's done to clap
their hands about, myself!
_Second F.S._ Nor I neither--taking up his time all for
nothing--depend upon it she wouldn't have gone up if he hadn't been so
nice-looking!
_First F.S._ I wouldn't like to think _that_ of her myself; but,
anyhow, she didn't get much by it, did she? He soon sent _her_
packing!
_Male Spectator_ (_to a Woman in front of him_). Evening, Mrs.
MIDGELLY--I see they've got your good man up on the platform.
_Mrs. M._ He _will_ go, Mr. BUDKIN! He's gone up every night the
'Ipnotiser's been here, and says he feels it's going to do him good.
So this evening I said I'd come in too, and judge for myself. What
good he expects to get, laying there like a damp dishclout, _I_ don't
know!
[_Meanwhile the Hypnotist has borrowed a silver-handled
umbrella from the audience, and thrust it before the faces of
one or two loutish-looking youths, who immediately begin to
squint horribly and follow the silver-top with their noses,
till they knock their heads together._
_Mr. Budkin_ (_to Mrs. MIDGELLY_). He's going to give your husband a
turn of it now.
[_The umbrella-handle is applied to Mr. M., a feeble-looking
little man with a sandy top-knot; he grovels after the
silver-top when it is depressed, and makes futile attempts to
clamber up the umbrella after it when it is held aloft._
_Mrs. M._ (_severely_). I haven't patience to look at him. A _Kitten_
'ud have had more sense!
_The Hyp._ (_calling up one of the heavy youths_). Can you whistle,
Sir? Yes? Then whistle something. (_The Youth whistles a popular air
in a lugubrious tone._) Now you _can't_ whistle--try. (_The Youth
tries--and produces nothing but a close imitation of an air-cushion
that is being unscrewed._) Now, if I were not to wake him up, this
young gentleman's friends would never enjoy the benefit of his whistle
again!
_Voice from a Back Row_. _Don't_ wake him, Guv'nor, we can _bear_ it!
_Hyp._ (_after restoring the lost talent, and calling up another
Youth, somewhat smartly attired_). Now, Sir, what do you drink?
_The Youth_ (_with a sleepy candour_). Beer when I can get 'old of it.
_A Friend of his in Audience_. JIM's 'aving a lark with him--he said
as 'ow he meant to kid him like--_he_ ain't 'ipnotised, bless yer!
_Hyp._ But you like water, too, don't you? (_JIM admits this--in
moderation._) Try this. (_He gives him a tumbler of water._) Is that
good water?
_Jim_ (_smacking his lips_). That's good water enough, Sir.
_Hyp._ It's bad water--taste it again.
[_JIM tastes, and ejects it with every symptom of extreme
disapproval._
_Jim's Friend_. Try him with a drop o' Scotch in it--_'e'll_ get it
down!
_Hyp._ (_to JIM_). There is _no_ water in that glass--it's full of
sovereigns, don't you see? (_JIM agrees that this is so, and testifies
to his conviction by promptly emptying the contents of the glass into
his trousers' pocket_) What have you got in your pocket?
_Jim_ (_chuckling with satisfaction_). Quids--golden sovereigns!
_Hyp._ Wake up! _Now_ what do you find in your pocket--any sovereigns?
_Jim_ (_surprised_). Sovereigns? No, Sir! (_After putting his hand
in his pocket, bringing it out dripping, and dolefully regarding the
stream of water issuing from his leg_.) More like water, Sir.
[_He makes dismal efforts to dry himself, amidst roars of
laughter._
_His Friend_. Old JIM didn't come best out o' that!
_Hyp._ (_to JIM_). You don't feel comfortable? (_Emphatic assent from_
JIM.) Yes, you do, you feel no discomfort whatever.
[_JIM resumes his seat with a satisfied expression._
_An Open-minded Spect._ Mind yer, if this yere 'Ipnotism can prevent
water from being wet, there must be _something_ in it!
_Hyp._ I will now give you an illustration of the manner in which,
by hypnotic influence, a subject can_ be affected with an entirely
imaginary pain. Take this gentleman. (_Indicating the unfortunate
Mr. MIDGELLY, who is slumbering peacefully._) Now, what pain shall we
give him?
_A Voice_. Stomach-ache!
[_This suggestion, however, is so coyly advanced that it
fortunately escapes notice._
_Hyp._ Tooth-ache? Very good--we will give him tooth-ache.
[_The Audience receive this with enthusiasm, which increases
to rapturous delight when Mr. MIDGELLY's cheek begins to
twitch violently, and he nurses his jaw in acute agony; the
tooth-ache is then transferred to another victim, who writhes
in an even more entertaining manner, until the unhappy couple
are finally relieved from torment._
_A Spect._ Well, it's better nor any play, this is--but he ought to
ha' passed the toothache round the lot of 'em, just for the fun o' the
thing!
_Mrs. Midgelly_. I should ha' thought there was toothache enough
without coming here to get more of it, but so long as MIDGELLY's
enjoyin' himself, _I_ shan't interfere!
[_The Hypnot. has impressed his subjects with the idea that
there is an Angel at the other end of the hall, and they are
variously affected by the celestial apparition, some gazing
with a rapt grin, while others invoke her stiffly, or hail her
like a cab. Mr. MIDGELLY alone exhibits no interest._
_Mr. Budkin_ (_to Mrs. M._). Your 'usband don't seem to be putting
himself out, Angel or no Angel.
_Mrs. M._ (_complacently_). He knows too well what's due to _me_, Mr.
BUDKIN. _I'm_ Angel enough for him!
_Hyp._ I shall now persuade this Gentleman that there is a beautiful
young lady in green at the door of this hall. (_To Mr. M._) Do you see
her, Sir?
_Mr. M._ (_rising with alacrity_). I do. Lovely creature!
[_He suddenly snatches up a decanter of water, and invites
his invisible charmer, in passionate pantomime, to come up and
share it with him--to the infinite delight of the Audience,
and disgust of his Wife._