In our last chapter we promised to explain the nature of the little
instrument by which the Night-Howler produced those "hideous and
unearthly noises" to which we alluded. We will now proceed to do so; and
as this instrument is the same as that used by showmen in the play of
Punch and Judy, we cannot do better, while we are about it, than
instruct our readers how to get up a Punch and Judy show.
First, with regard to the instrument. It is a very simple affair: get
two small pieces of clean white pine, and with a sharp knife cut them of
the shape and size of the diagram marked 1. Then put these two pieces
together as represented in Figure 2, having previously slipped between
them a piece of common tape, also represented in the diagram (the tape
must be just the same width as the wood); then wind some thread round
the whole thing lengthwise (to keep the bits of wood together and the
tape taut), and the Punch-trumpet is made, as represented in figure 3.
Place the instrument between your lips and blow; if you cannot produce
noise enough to distract any well-regulated family in three-quarters of
an hour, we are very much mistaken.
[Illustration]
To produce variety of notes and tones, as well as to speak through it,
after the manner of the Punch showmen, the instrument must be placed
well back in the mouth near the root of the tongue, in such a position
that you can blow through it and at the same time retain free use of
your tongue. A little practice will enable you to do this, and to
pronounce many words in a tolerably understandable manner. To discover
this last item in the use of the instrument, simple as it is, cost the
writer of this an infinity of trouble and some money; and it was not
until after two years' hunting and inquiry, and the employment of agents
to hunt up professors of Punch and Judy, that we discovered an expert
who, for a handsome fee, explained the matter; and then, of course, we
were amazingly surprised that we had never thought of it before. From
the same expert we learned how to make another instrument by means of
which it is possible to imitate the note of almost every animal, from
the hog to the canary-bird. We soon compassed the hog, the horse, the
hen, the dog, the little pig, and something that might be called the
horse-linnet, or the hog-canary; but ere long we found that considerable
practice was necessary to enable us to accomplish the finer notes of the
singing-birds. How to make this latter instrument we will explain in a
future chapter; at present we must go on with the play of Punch and
Judy.
We commence instructions with a view taken behind the scenes, which will
help the description (see cut on page 40). We may state that the London
showmen carry about with them a species of little theatre of simple
construction, which is of course better than a mere door-way; but as the
latter will answer the purpose, and many people will not care to make
a theatre, we will at present content ourselves with that which every
house affords.
[Illustration: PUNCH AND JUDY, BEHIND THE SCENES.--_See page 40._]
In the play of Punch and Judy there are many characters--indeed, you can
introduce almost as great a variety as you please; but the leading ones
are:
Mr. Punch, a merry gentleman, of violent and capricious temper.
Judy (wife of Punch).
Baby (offspring of Punch and Judy).
Ghost.
Constable.
The heads of these characters can be made in several ways. The first is
to get the necessary number of common round wooden lucifer match-boxes
and some red putty. With the putty you make the noses and chins of the
characters (all except the Ghost, who requires no nose). With a
camel's-hair brush and a little India-ink or black paint you mark out
the features strongly, taking care to make the eyes and eyeballs of a
good size, so as to be seen at a distance. With a little red paint or
red chalk you can color the cheeks, and with a little white paint or
white chalk give brilliancy to the teeth and eyes. The annexed cut will
show what the style of countenance ought to be of each, No. 1 being the
Constable, No. 2 Judy, and No. 3 Mr. Punch himself. The Ghost is not
represented. In feature he is much like the Constable, only that his
face must be made as white as possible, and the features simply marked
out in blue or green or black. The Baby can be made out of an ordinary
clothes-pin or stick of wood.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
If the match-boxes cannot be easily obtained, just roll up a good-sized
card, as represented in this figure, and paint on it the features. The
nose and chin can be made of a bit of red rag or paper folded up of the
desired shape, and either sewed or gummed on. Another and far better way
of making these heads (though it takes more trouble), is to get a
carpenter to cut out for you four or five pieces of white pine or other
fine wood of the shape of the sketch annexed, with a hole in each large
enough to easily admit your fore-finger. From this block you can carve
as elaborate a head as you please, and one of larger size than the
match-box, which will be advantageous. The diagram marked O will show
you how to set about making the carving. Having now made the bald heads,
you must proceed to dress them. Punch must have a bright red cap with
yellow tassel and binding, like the one in the accompanying sketch. Judy
must have a white cap with broad frill and black ribbon. The Constable
must have a wig made out of some scrap of fur (the remains of a tippet
or cuff), or if fur cannot be procured, a piece of rope unravelled will
make a good wig. The Ghost only requires his winding-sheet drawn over
his head. All these can be nailed on the heads of the actors with small
tacks without hurting their feelings.
[Illustration]
Having got the heads complete, we will proceed to construct their
bodies. These merely consist of empty garments, the operator's hand
supplying the bone and sinew. The dresses must be neatly fastened round
the neck of the head, so that when the performer puts his hand inside
the dress, he can thrust his fore-finger into the hole in the head. They
must of course be sufficiently large to admit the hand of the showman,
each sleeve to admit a thumb or finger, and the neck large enough for
the passage of the fore-finger. Thus the thumb represents one arm, the
middle finger another arm, whilst the fore-finger, thrust into the head,
supports and moves it about. The style of dress of Punch and Judy can be
easily seen in the small sketch. The color of Punch's coat should be
red, with yellow facings, with a hump sewed on his back and a paunch in
front. Judy should have a spotted calico and white neck-handkerchief.
The Constable had better be attired in black, and the Ghost and Baby in
white. Each of the sleeves should have a hand fastened into it. The
hands can be made of little slips of wood, with fingers and thumbs
marked on them. They should be about two and a half or three inches
long, only about three-quarters of an inch of which, however, will
project beyond the sleeve; the rest, being inside, will serve to give
stiffness to the arm when the performer's fingers are not long enough to
reach the whole way.
[Illustration]
Mr. Punch requires a club wherewith to beat his wife, and to perform his
various other assaults and batteries. A gallows, too, should be
provided, on the plan represented in the diagram, the use of which will
be explained hereafter.
So much for the performers. Now for the theatre and the play. The
theatre is easily made. A narrow board about three or four inches wide
should be fixed across an open doorway just about one inch higher up
than the top of the head of the exhibitor. From this board hangs a
curtain long enough to reach the floor. Behind this curtain stands the
operator, with his actors all ready on a chair or table at his side. He
puts his Punch-trumpet in his mouth, gives one or two preliminary
_root-et-too-teet-toos_, puts his hand fairly inside Mr. Punch's body,
and hoists him up so that half his manly form may be seen above the
screen. A glance at our picture, BEHIND THE SCENES, will explain
anything our words have failed to convey. The audience are of course on
the opposite side of the curtain to which the performer stands.
Before we commence with the dialogue of the play, we must mention one
very important part of the exhibition. As Mr. Punch's voice is, at the
best of times, rather husky, it is necessary that the exhibitor should
have a colleague or interpreter among the audience who knows the play by
heart, and who, from practice, can understand what Mr. Punch says better
than the audience. This person must repeat after Punch whatever he may
say, only not to wound his feelings; he must do so in the form of
questions--for example, suppose Mr. Punch says, "Oh! I've got such a
pretty baby!" the showman outside must repeat: "Oh! you've got a pretty
baby, Mr. Punch, have you? Where is she?" The outside showman ought to
have some instrument to play on--a tin tea-tray or tin pan will do--and
if there is any one to accompany him on the piano when Mr. Punch sings a
song or dances, so much the better. Now for the play.
Mr. Punch makes his _début_ by dancing round his small stage in an
extravagant and insane manner, singing some rollicking song in his own
peculiar style. Having indulged himself in this way for a few seconds,
he pulls up suddenly, and looking over the edge of the screen at the
showman outside, exclaims:
_Punch._ "I say, old hoss!"
_Showman._ "I say, 'old hoss!' Mr. Punch, that's not a very polite way
to address a gentleman. Well, what do you say?"
_P._ "I say!"
_S._ "Well, what do you say?"
_P._ "I say!"
_S._ "Well, you've said 'I say!' twice before. What is it you have to
say?"
_P._ "I say!"
_S._ "What?"
_P._ "Nothing particular!"
Mr. Punch dances off, hilariously singing.
_S._ "Nothing particular! Well, that is a valuable communication."
_P._ (Stopping again). "Oh, you April fool!"
_S._ "April fool? No, Mr. Punch, I'm not an April fool. This isn't the
first of April."
_P._ "Isn't it? Well, salt it down till next year."
_S._ "Salt it down till next year? No, thankee, Mr. Punch. Guess you'll
want it for your own use."
_P._ "Mr. Showman!"
_S._ "Well, Mr. Punch?"
_P._ "Have you seen my wife?"
_S._ "Seen your wife? No, Mr. Punch."
_P._ "She's such a pretty creature!"
_S._ "Such a pretty creature, eh? Well, I'd like to be introduced."
_P._ "She's such a beauty! She's got a nose just like mine" (touching
his snout with his little hand).
_S._ "Got a nose just like yours, eh? Well, then, she must be a beauty."
_P._ "She's not quite so beautiful as me, though."
_S._ "Not so beautiful as you? No, of course not, Mr. Punch; we couldn't
expect that."
_P._ "You're a very nice man. I like you."
_S._ "Well, I'm glad you like me, Mr. Punch."
_P._ "Shall I call my wife?"
_S._ "Yes, by all means call your wife, Mr. Punch."
_P._ (Calling loudly). "Judy! Judy, my dear! Judy! come up-stairs!"
Judy now makes her appearance. Punch draws back and stands gazing at her
for a few minutes in mute admiration. Without moving, he exclaims: "What
a beauty!" then, turning to the audience, he asks earnestly: "Isn't she
a beauty?" He now turns to Judy and asks her for a kiss; they approach
and hug each other in a prolonged embrace, Mr. Punch all the time
emitting a species of gurgling sound expressive of rapture. This is
repeated several times, interspersed with the remarks of Mr. Punch on
the beauty of his spouse; after which, at Mr. _P._'s suggestion, the
couple dance together to lively music and the enlivening tones of Mr.
_P._'s voice; the performance winding up by Mr. Punch's leaning up
against the door of the theatre exhausted and delighted, and giving vent
to a prolonged chuckle of gratification.
Punch now turns to the Showman and asks him if he has ever seen his
Baby. The Showman replying in the negative, Punch extols the beauty of
his offspring in the same extravagant strain as he has already done
that of his wife, makes the same comparison between his own and the
Baby's nose, declares that the Baby never cries, and that she is "_so
fond of him_."
The Baby is now ordered to be brought up-stairs, and Judy disappears to
obey her lord's mandate. During her absence Punch favors the company
with a song. When Judy returns, bearing the infant Punch in her arms,
Mr. P. goes into raptures, calls it a pretty creature, pats its cheek,
and goes through all the little endearing ceremonies common to fathers.
After again informing the Showman that his Baby never cries, and is
fondly attached to him, he takes the infant in his arms, whereupon she
immediately sets up a continuous howl. Punch tries to hush and pacify it
for some time, but at last, losing his temper, shakes it violently and
throws it out of the window, or in other words, at the feet of the
audience. Judy is of course distracted, weeps bitterly, and upbraids her
husband, when the enraged Mr. Punch dives down-stairs and gets his club,
and whilst Mrs. P. is still weeping, gives her three or four sound blows
on the back of the head. This makes Mrs. P. cry still more, which, in
turn, increases Mr. P.'s wrath, who ends by beating her to death and
throwing her after the Baby. The Showman upbraids Punch with his crime,
but Punch defends himself by saying it served her right. However, he
finally admits that he is naturally a little hasty, but then he adds,
"It's over in a minute," and that's the kind of disposition he likes. He
further adds:
_P._ "I'm a proud, sensitive nature."
_S._ "You're a proud, sensitive nature, are you, Mr. Punch? I don't see
much pride in killing a baby."
_P._ "That's because you don't understand the feelings of a gentleman."
_S._ "Because I don't understand the feelings of a gentleman? Well, if
those are the feelings of a gentleman, I don't want to understand them,
Mr. Punch."
This dialogue can be carried on to suit the taste and invention of the
exhibitor.
Presently, while Mr. P. is recklessly glorying in his crime, declaring
that he is afraid of nothing, and laughing to scorn the Showman's
admonition, the Ghost makes his appearance close to Mr. _P._'s shoulder,
and stands there for some time, listening unobserved to Punch's brag.
After a while, however, turning round, Punch catches sight of him, and
is rooted to the spot with horror for a few seconds; then he retreats
backwards, his whole body trembling violently, till he reaches the side
of the theatre; here he turns round slowly to hide his face from the
awful apparition. When, by turning away, he loses sight of the Ghost for
a few seconds, he recovers his voice so far as to say to the Showman in
trembling tones: "W-h-h-a-a-t a hor-r-r-rid creature! What an awful
creature!" Then he turns round very slowly to see whether the "horrid
creature" is gone, but finding it still there, suddenly jumps
back--jambs himself up in the corner--pokes his head out of the window,
and screams, "Murder! murder! murder!" shaking all the time violently.
This he repeats several times, till at last the Ghost disappears. Then
Mr. P. recovers his courage and swaggers about as before, vowing he is
afraid of nothing, etc., etc.
Now appears on the stage the Constable, who twists himself about in a
pompous style for some seconds, and then addressing Mr. Punch, says:
_Constable._ "I've come to take you up!"
_P._ "And I've come to knock you down!" (which he accordingly does with
his club).
The Constable gets up, and is again knocked down several times in
succession. Not relishing this style of thing, however, he disappears
and returns with a club, and a battle royal ensues, part of which--that
is to say, one round of the battle--shows the skill of the Constable in
dodging Mr. P.'s blows, and can be made immensely funny if properly
performed. It is done in this way: The Constable stands perfectly still,
and Punch takes deliberate aim; but when he strikes, the Constable bobs
down quickly, and the blow passes harmlessly over his head. This is
repeated frequently, the Constable every now and then retaliating on
Mr. P.'s "nob" with effect. Not succeeding with the sabre-cut, Punch
tries the straight or rapier thrust. He points the end of his _baton_
straight at the Constable's nose, and after drawing back two or three
times to be sure of his aim, makes a lunge; but the Constable is too
quick, dodges on one side, and Punch's club passes innocently out of the
window. This is repeated several times, till the Constable sails in and
gives Punch a whack on the head, crying: "There's a topper!" Punch
returns the compliment with the remark: "There's a whopper!" Now they
have a regular rough and tumble, in which Punch is vanquished.
The Constable disappears and returns with the gallows, which he sticks
up in a hole already made in the stage (four-inch board previously
mentioned), and proceeds to prepare for the awful ceremony of hanging
Mr. P. Punch, never having been hung before, cannot make out how the
machine is intended to operate--at least he feigns profound ignorance
on the subject. When the Constable tells him to put his head into the
noose, he puts it in the wrong place over and over again, inquiring each
time, "That way?" till at last the executioner, losing all patience,
puts his own head in the loop, in order to show Mr. P. how to do it,
saying: "There! that's the way! Now do you understand?" To which Punch
responds, "Oh! that's the way, is it?" at the same time pulling the end
of the rope tight, and holding on to it till the struggling functionary
is dead, crying all the time: "Oh! that's the way, is it? Now I
understand!"
Punch dances a triumphant jig, and so ends the _immoral_ drama of Punch
and Judy.
Many more characters can be added at the option of the performer,
besides which, jokes and riddles can be introduced to any extent. We
have given the skeleton of the play, with all the necessary information
for getting up the characters.
We will conclude this chapter with an excellent charade, the answer to
which will be given in the next chapter:
CHARADE.
My whole is the name of the school-boy's dread,
My first is the name of a quadruped;
My first transposed a substance denotes,
Which in carts or in coaches free motion promotes;
Transpose it again, and it gives you the key
Which leads to the results of much industry.
My second is that which deforms all the graces
Which cluster around the fair maidens' fair faces;
Transpose it, and it gives you the name of a creature
Of no little notice in the history of nature.
Now take my whole in transposition,
And it will give you the dress of a Scotch musician.