FIRST PATRONISING P. "A Tooth of Queen Katherine Parr." Dear me! very
quaint.
SECOND P. P. (_tolerantly_). And not at all a bad tooth, either.
'ARRIET (_comes to a case containing a hat labelled as formerly
belonging to Henry the Eighth_). 'Arry, look 'ere; fancy a king going
about in a thing like that--pink with a green feather! Why, I wouldn't
be seen in it myself!
'ARRY. Ah, but that was ole 'Enery all over, that was; _he_ wasn't one
for show. He liked a quiet, unassumin' style of 'at, he did. "None of
yer loud pot 'ats for Me!" he'd tell the Royal 'atters; "find me a tile
as won't attract people's notice, or you won't want a tile yerselves in
another minute!" An' you may take yer oath they served him pretty
_sharp_, too!
'ARRIET (_giggling_). It's a pity they didn't ask you to write their
Catalogue for 'em.
THE AUNT. John, you're not really _looking_ at that needlework--it's
Queen Elizabeth's own work, John. Only look how wonderfully fine the
stitches are. Ah, she was a truly _great_ woman! I could spend hours
over this case alone. What, closing are they, _already_? We must have
another day at this together, John--just you and I.
JOHN. Yes, Aunt. And now--(_thinks there is just time to call on the_
Chestertons, _if he goes soon_)--can I get you a cab, or put you into a
'bus or anything?
HIS AUNT. Not just yet; you must take me somewhere where I can get a bun
and a cup of tea first, and then we can go over the Catalogue together,
and mark all the things we _missed_, you know.
[JOHN _resigns himself to the inevitable rather than offend his wealthy
relative_; _the_ INTELLIGENT PERSON _comes out, saying he has had "an
intellectual treat" and intends to "run through Froude again" that
evening_. 'ARRY _and_ 'ARRIET, _depart to the "Ocean Wave" at Hengler's.
Gallery gradually clears as Scene closes in._
In an Omnibus.
_The majority of the inside passengers, as usual, sit in solemn
silence, and gaze past their opposite neighbours into vacancy.
A couple of Matrons converse in wheezy whispers_.
FIRST MATRON. Well, I must say a bus is pleasanter riding than what they
used to be not many years back, and then so much cheaper, too. Why you
can go all the way right from here to Mile End Road for threepence!
SECOND MATRON. What, all that way for threepence--(_with an impulse of
vague humanity_). The _poor_ 'orses!
FIRST MATRON. Ah, well, my dear, it's Competition, you know,--it don't
do to think too much of it.
CONDUCTOR (_stopping the bus_). Orchard Street, Lady!
[_To_ SECOND MATRON, _who had desired to be put down there_.
SECOND MATRON (_to_ CONDUCTOR). Just move on a few doors further,
opposite the boot-shop. (_To_ FIRST MATRON.) It will save us walking.
CONDUCTOR. Cert'inly, Mum, we'll drive in and wait while you're tryin'
'em on, if you like--_we_ ain't in no 'urry!
[_The_ MATRONS _get out, and their places are taken by two young girls,
who are in the middle of a conversation of thrilling interest_.
FIRST GIRL. I never liked her myself--ever since the way she behaved at
his Mother's that Sunday.
SECOND GIRL. How _did_ she behave?
[_A faint curiosity is discernible amongst the other passengers to learn
how she--whoever she is--behaved that Sunday._
FIRST GIRL. Why, it was you _told_ me! You remember. That night Joe let
out about her and the automatic scent fountain.
SECOND GIRL. Oh, yes, I remember now. (_General disappointment._) I
couldn't help laughing myself. Joe didn't ought to have told--but she
needn't have got into such a state over it, _need_ she?
FIRST GIRL. That was Eliza all over. If George had been sensible, he'd
have broken it off then and there--but no, he wouldn't hear a word
against her, not at that time--it was the button-hook opened _his_ eyes!
[_The other passengers strive to dissemble a frantic desire to know how
and why this delicate operation was performed._
SECOND GIRL (_mysteriously_). And enough too! But what put George off
most was her keeping that bag so quiet.
[_The general imagination is once more stirred to its depths by this
mysterious allusion._
FIRST GIRL. Yes, he did feel that, I know, he used to come and go on
about it to me by the hour together. "I shouldn't have minded so much,"
he told me over and over again, with the tears standing in his
eyes,--"if it hadn't been that the bottles was all silver-mounted!"
SECOND GIRL. Silver-mounted? I never heard of _that_ before--no wonder
he felt hurt!
FIRST GIRL (_impressively_). Silver tops to every one of them--and that
girl to turn round as she did, and her with an Uncle in the oil and
colour line, too--it nearly broke George's 'art!
SECOND GIRL. He's such a one to take on about things--but, as I said to
him, "George," I says, "You must remember it might have been worse.
Suppose you'd been married to that girl, and _then_ found out about Alf
and the Jubilee sixpence--how would _that_ have been?"
FIRST GIRL (_unconsciously acting as the mouthpiece of the other
passengers_). And what did he say to _that_?
SECOND GIRL. Oh, nothing--there was nothing he _could_ say, but I could
see he was struck. She behaved very mean to the last--she wouldn't send
back the German concertina.
FIRST GIRL. You don't say so! Well, I wouldn't have thought that of her,
bad as she is.
SECOND GIRL. No, she stuck to it that it wasn't like a regular present,
being got through a grocer, and as she couldn't send him back the tea,
being drunk,--but did you hear how she treated Emma over the crinoline
'at she got for her?
FIRST GIRL (_to the immense relief of the rest_). No, what was that?
SECOND GIRL. Well, I had it from Emma her own self. Eliza wrote up to
her and says, in a postscript like,--Why, this is Tottenham Court Road,
I get out here. Good-bye, dear, I must tell you the rest another day.
[_Gets out, leaving the tantalised audience inconsolable, and
longing for courage to question her companion as to the precise
details of Eliza's heartless behaviour to George. The
companion, however, relapses into a stony reserve. Enter a_
CHATTY OLD GENTLEMAN _who has no secrets from anybody, and of
course selects as the first recipient of his confidence the one
person who hates to be talked to in an omnibus_.
THE CHATTY O. G. I've just been having a talk with the policeman at the
corner there--what do you think I said to him?
HIS OPPOSITE NEIGHBOUR. I--I really don't know.
THE C. O. G. Well, I told him he was a rich man compared to me. He said
"I only get thirty shillings a week, Sir." "Ah," I said, "but look at
your expenses, compared to mine. What would _you_ do if you had to spend
eight hundred a year on your children's education?" I spend that--every
penny of it, Sir.
HIS OPP. N. (_utterly uninterested_). Do you indeed?--dear me!
C. O. G. Not that I grudge it--a good education is a fortune in itself,
and as I've always told my boys, they must make the best of it, for it's
all they'll get. They're good enough lads, but I've had a deal of
trouble with them one way and another--a _deal_ of trouble. (_Pauses for
some expression of sympathy--which does not come--and he continues_:)
There are my two eldest sons--what must they do but fall in love with
the same lady--the same lady, Sir! (_No one seems to care much for these
domestic revelations--possibly because they are too_ _obviously
addressed to the general ear_). And, to make matters worse, she was a
married woman--(_his principal hearer looks another way uneasily_)--the
wife of a godson of mine, which made it all the more awkward, y'know.
(HIS OPPOSITE NEIGHBOUR _giving no sign, the_ C. O. G. _tries one
Passenger after another_.) Well, I went to him--(_here he fixes an old
Lady, who immediately passes up coppers out of her glove to the_
CONDUCTOR)--I went to him, and said--(_addressing a smartly dressed
young Lady with a parcel who giggles_)--I said, "You're a man of the
world--so am I. Don't you take any notice," I told him--(_this to a
callow young man, who blushes_)--"they're a couple of young fools," I
said, "but you tell your dear wife from me not to mind those boys of
mine--they'll soon get tired of it if they're only let alone." And so
they would have, long ago, it's my belief, if they'd met with no
encouragement--but what can _I_ do--it's a heavy trial to a father, you
know. Then there's my third son--he must needs go and marry--(_to a Lady
at his side with a reticule, who gasps faintly_)--some young woman who
dances at a Music-hall--nice daughter-in-law that for a man in my
position, eh? I've forbidden him the house of course, and told his
mother not to have any communication with him--but I know,
Sir,--(_violently, to a Man on his other side, who coughs in much
embarrassment_)--I _know_ she meets him once a week under the eagle in
Orme Square, and _I_ can't stop her! Then I'm worried about my
daughters--one of 'em gave me no peace till I let her have some painting
lessons--of course, I naturally thought the drawing-master would be an
elderly man--whereas, as things turned out,----
A QUIET MAN IN A CORNER. I 'ope you told all this to the Policeman, Sir?
THE C. O. G. (_flaming unexpectedly_). No, Sir, I did _not_. I am not in
the habit--whatever _you_ may be--of discussing my private affairs with
strangers. I consider your remark highly impertinent, Sir.
[_Fumes in silence for the rest of the journey._
THE YOUNG LADY WITH THE PARCEL (_to her friend--for the sake of
vindicating her gentility_). Oh, my dear, _I_ do feel so funny, carrying
a great brown-paper parcel, in a bus, too! Any one would take me for a
shop-girl!
[Illustration: "GO 'OME, DIRTY DICK!"]
A GRIM OLD LADY OPPOSITE. And I only hope, my dear, you'll never be
taken for any one less respectable.
[_Collapse of_ GENTEEL Y.L.
FIRST HUMOROUS 'ARRY (_recognising a friend on entering_). Excuse me
stoppin' your kerridge, old man, but I thought you wouldn't mind givin'
me a lift, as you was goin' my way.
SECOND H. 'A. Quite welcome, old chap, so long as you give my man a bit
when you git down, yer know.
FIRST H. 'A. Oh, o' course--that's expected between gentlemen.
(_Both look round to see if their facetiousness is appreciated, find it
is not and subside._)
THE CONDUCTOR. Benk, benk! (_he means "Bank"_) 'Oborn, benk! 'Igher up
there, Bill, can't you?
A DINGY MAN SMOKING, IN A VAN. Want to block up the ole o' the road, eh?
That's right!
THE CONDUCTOR (_roused to personality_). Go 'ome, Dirty Dick! syme old
soign, I see,--"Monkey an' Poipe!" (_To Coachman of smart brougham which
is pressing rather closely behind._) I say old man, don't you race after
my bus like this--you'll only tire your 'orse.
[_The Coachman affects not to have heard._
THE CONDUCTOR (_addressing the brougham horse, whose head is almost
through the door of the omnibus_). 'Ere, _'ang_ it all!--step insoide,
if yer want to!
[_Brougham falls to rear--triumph of_ CONDUCTOR _as Scene closes_.
At a Sale of High-Class Sculpture.
SCENE--_An upper floor in a City Warehouse; a low whitewashed
room, dimly lighted by dusty windows and two gas-burners in
wire cages. Around the walls are ranged several statues of meek
aspect, securely confined in barred wooden cases, like a sort
of marble menagerie. In the centre, a labyrinthine grove of
pedestals, surmounted by busts, groups, and statuettes by
modern Italian masters. About these pedestals a small
crowd--consisting of Elderly Merchants on the look out for a
"neat thing in statuary" for the conservatory at Croydon or
Muswell Hill, Young City Men who have dropped in after lunch,
Disinterested Dealers, Upholsterers' Buyers, Obliging Brokers,
and Grubby and Mysterious men--is cautiously circulating._
OBLIGING BROKER (_to_ AMIABLE SPECTATOR, _who has come in out of
curiosity, and without the remotest intention of purchasing sculpture_).
No Catlog, Sir? 'Ere, allow me to orfer you mine--that's _my_ name in
pencil on the top of it, Sir; and, if you _should_ 'appen to see any lot
that takes your fancy, you jest ketch my eye. (_Reassuringly._) I
sha'n't be fur off. Or look 'ere, gimme a nudge--I shall know what it
means.
[_The_ A. S. _thanks him profusely, and edges away with an inward vow
to avoid his and the_ AUCTIONEER'S _eyes, as he would those of a
basilisk_.
AUCTIONEER (_from desk, with the usual perfunctory fervour_). Lot 13,
Gentlemen, very charming pair of subjects from child life--"_The Pricked
Finger_" and "_The Scratched Toe_"--by Bimbi.
A STOLID ASSISTANT (_in shirtsleeves_). Figgers _'ere_, Gen'lm'n!
[_Languid surge of crowd towards them._
[Illustration: "FIGGERS _'ere_, GEN'L'M'N!"]
A FACETIOUS BIDDER. Which of 'em's the finger and which the toe?
AUCT. (_coldly_). I should have thought it was easy to identify by the
attitude. Now, Gentlemen, give me a bidding for these very
finely-executed works by Bimbi. Make any offer. What will you give me
for 'em? Both very sweet things, Gentlemen. Shall we say ten guineas?
A GRUBBY MAN. Give yer five.
AUCT. (_with grieved resignation_). Very well, start 'em at five. Any
advance on five? (_To_ ASSIST.) Turn 'em round, to show the back view.
And a 'arf! Six! And a 'arf! Only six and a 'arf bid for this beautiful
pair of figures, done direct from nature by Bimbi. Come, Gentlemen,
come! Seven! Was that _you_, MR. GRIMES? (THE GRUBBY MAN _admits the
soft impeachment_.) Seven and a 'arf. Eight! It's _against_ you.
MR. GRIMES (_with a supreme effort_). Two-and-six!
[_Mops his brow with a red cotton handkerchief._
AUCT. (_in a tone of gratitude for the smallest mercies_).
Eight-ten-six. All done at eight-ten-six? Going ... gone! GRIMES, Eight,
ten, six. Take money for 'em. Now we come to a very 'andsome work by
Piffalini--"_The Ocarina Player_," one of this great artist's
masterpieces, and an exceedingly choice and high-class work, as you will
all agree directly you see it. (_To_ ASSIST.) Now, then, Lot 14,
there--look sharp!
STOLID ASSIST. "Hocarina Plier" eyn't arrived, Sir.
AUCT. Oh, hasn't it? Very well, then. Lot 15. "_The Pretty Pill-taker_,"
by Antonio Bilio--a really magnificent work of Art, Gentlemen.
(_"Pill-taker, 'ere.!" from the_ S. A.) What'll you give me for her?
Come, make me an offer. (_Bidding proceeds till the "Pill-taker" is
knocked down for twenty-three-and-a-half guineas._) Lot 16, "_The
Mixture as Before_," by same artist--make a charming and suitable
companion to the last lot. What do you say, MR. MIDDLEMAN--take it at
the same bidding? (Mr. M. _assents, with the end of one eyebrow_.) Any
advance on twenty-three and a 'arf? None? Then,--MIDDLEMAN, Twenty-four,
thirteen, six.
MR. MIDDLEMAN (_to the_ AMIABLE SPECTATOR, _who has been vaguely
inspecting the "Pill-taker"_). Don't know if you noticed it, Sir, but I
got that last couple very cheap--on'y forty-seven guineas the pair, and
they are worth eighty, I solemnly declare to you. I could get forty a
piece for 'em to-morrow, upon my word and honour, I could. Ah, and I
know who'd _give_ it me for 'em, too!
THE A. S. (_sympathetically_). Dear me, then you've done very well over
it.
MR. M. Ah, well ain't the word--and those two aren't the only lots I've
got either. That "_Sandwich-Man_" over there is mine--look at the work
in those boards, and the nature in his clay pipe; and "_The
Boot-Black_," that's mine, too--all worth twice what _I_ got 'em
for--and lovely things, too, ain't they?
THE A. S. Oh, very nice, very clever--congratulate you, I'm sure.
MR. M. I can see you've took a fancy to 'em, Sir, and, when I come
across a gentleman that's a connysewer, I'm always sorry to stand in his
light; so, see here, you can have any one you like out o' my little lot,
or all on 'em, with all the pleasure in the wide world, Sir, and I'll
on'y charge you five per cent. on what I gave for 'em, and be
exceedingly obliged to you, into the bargain, Sir. (_The_ A. S. _feebly
disclaims any desire to take advantage of this magnanimous offer_.)
Don't say No, if you mean Yes, Sir. Will you _'ave "The Pill-taker,"_
Sir?
THE A. S. (_politely_). Thank you very much, but--er--I think _not_.
MR. M. Then perhaps you could do with "_The Little Boot-Black_," or
"_The Sandwich-Man_," Sir?
THE A. S. Perhaps--but I could do still better _without_ them.
[_He moves to another part of the room._
THE OBL. BROKER (_whispering beerily in his ear_). Seen anythink yet as
takes your fancy, Sir; 'cos, if so--
[THE A. S. _escapes to a dark corner--where he is warmly welcomed by_
MR. MIDDLEMAN.
MR. M. _Knew_ you'd think better on it, Sir. Now which is it to be--the
"_Boot-Black_," or "_Mixture as Before_"?
AUCT. Now we come to Lot 19. Massive fluted column in coral marble with
revolving-top--a column, Gentlemen, which will speak for itself.
THE FACETIOUS BIDDER (_after a scrutiny_). Then it may as well mention,
while it's _about_ it, that it's got a bit out of its back!
AUCT. Flaw in the marble, that's all. (_To_ ASSIST.) Nothing the
_matter_ with the column, is there?
ASSIST. (_with reluctant candour_). Well, it _'as_ got a little chipped,
Sir.
AUCT. (_easily_). Oh, very well then, we'll sell it "A. F." Very glad
it was found out in time, I'm sure. [_Bidding proceeds._
FIRST DEALER _to_ SECOND (_in a husky whisper_). Talkin' o' Old Masters,
I put young 'Anway up to a good thing the other day.
SECOND D. (_without surprise--probably from a knowledge of his friend's
noble unselfish nature_). Ah--'ow was that?
FIRST D. Well, there was a picter as I 'appened to know could be got in
for a deal under what it ought--in good 'ands, mind yer--to fetch. It
was a Morlan'--leastwise, it was so like you couldn't ha' told the
difference, if you understand my meanin'. (_The other nods with complete
intelligence._) Well, I 'adn't no openin' for it myself just then, so I
sez to young 'Anway, "You might do worse than go and 'ave a _look_ at
it," I told him. And I run against him yesterday, Wardour Street way,
and I sez, "Did yer go and _see_ that picter?" "Yes," sez he, "and
what's more, I got it at pretty much my own figger, too!" "Well," sez I,
"and ain't yer goin' to _shake 'ands with me over it_?"
SECOND D. (_interested_). And _did_ he?
FIRST D. Yes, he did--he beyaved very fair over the matter, I will say
_that_ for him.
SECOND D. Oh, 'Anway's a very decent little feller--_now_.
AUCT. (_hopefully_). Now, Gentlemen, this next lot'll tempt you, _I'_m
sure! Lot 33, a magnificent and very finely executed dramatic group out
of the "_Merchant of Venice_," _Othello_ in the act of smothering
_Desdemona_, both nearly life-size. (ASSIST., _with a sardonic
inflection_. "_Group_ 'ere, _Gen'lm'n_!") What shall we say for this
great work by Roccocippi, Gentlemen? A hundred guineas, just to start
us?
THE F. B. Can't you put the two figgers up separate?
AUCT. You know better than that--being a group, Sir. Come, come, any one
give me a hundred for this magnificent marble group! The figure of
_Othello_ very finely finished, Gentlemen.
THE F. B. I should ha' thought it was _her_ who was the finely finished
one of the two.
AUCT. (_pained by this levity_). Really, Gentlemen, _do_ 'ave more
appreciation of a 'igh-class work like this!... Twenty-five guineas?...
Nonsense! I can't put it up at that.
[_Bidding languishes. Lot withdrawn._
SECOND DISINTERESTED DEALER (_to_ FIRST D. D., _in an undertone_). I
wouldn't tell every one, but I shouldn't like to see _you_ stay 'ere and
waste your time; so, in case you _was_ thinking of waiting for that last
lot, I may just as well mention--
[_Whispers._
FIRST D. D. Ah, it's _that_ way, is it? Much obliged to you for the
'int. But I'd do the same for you any day.
SECOND D. D. I'm _sure_ yer would!
[_They watch one another suspiciously._
AUCT. Now 'ere's a tasteful thing, Gentlemen. Lot. 41. "_Nymph eating
Oysters_" ("_Nymph 'ere, Gen'lm'n!_"), by the celebrated Italian artist
Vabene, one of the finest works of Art in this room, and they're _all_
exceedingly fine works of Art; but this is a _truly_ work of Art,
Gentlemen. What shall we say for her, eh? (_Silence._) Why, Gentlemen,
no more appreciation than _that_? Come, don't be afraid of it. Make a
beginning. (_Bidding starts._) Forty-five guineas. Forty-six--_pounds_.
Forty-six pounds only, this remarkable specimen of modern Italian Art.
Forty-six and a 'arf. Only forty-six ten bid for it. Give character to
any gentleman's collection, a figure like this would. Forty-seven
_pounds_--_guineas_! and a 'arf.... Forty-seven and a 'arf guineas....
For the last time! Bidding with you, Sir. Forty-seven guineas and a
'arf--Gone! Name, Sir, if _you_ please. Oh, money? Very well. Thank you.
PROUD PURCHASER (_to Friend, in excuse for his extravagance_). You see,
I must have something for that grotto I've got in the grounds.
HIS FRIEND. If she was mine, I should put her in the hall, and have a
gaslight fitted in the oyster-shell.
P. P. (_thoughtfully_). Not a bad idea. But electric light would be more
suitable, and easier to fix too. Yes--we'll see.
THE OBL. BROKER (_pursuing the_ AM. SPECT.). I 'ope, Sir, you'll
remember me, next time you're this way.
THE AM. SPECT. (_who has only ransomed himself by taking over an odd
lot, consisting of imitation marble fruit, a model, under crystal, of
the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and three busts of Italian celebrities of
whom he has never heard_). I'm afraid I sh'an't have very much chance of
forgetting you. _Good_ afternoon!
[_Exit hurriedly, dropping the fruit, as Scene closes._
At the Guelph Exhibition.