Let fall a few drops of phosphorized ether on a lump of loaf sugar,
place the sugar in a glass of warm water, and a very beautiful
appearance will be instantly exhibited; the effect will be increased,
if the surface of the water, by blowing gently with the breath, be made
to undulate.
THE ILLUMINATOR AND EXTINGUISHER.
Make two little figures of wood or clay, or other materials, with a
little hole in the mouth of each. Put in the mouth of one, a few
grains of bruised gunpowder, and a little bit of phosphorus in the
other. Then take a lighted wax candle, and present it to the mouth of
the figure with the gunpowder, which, taking fire, will put the candle
out; then present your candle, having the snuff quite hot, to the other
figure, and it will light again immediately.
TO LIGHT A CANDLE BY A GLASS OF WATER.
Take a little piece of phosphorus, of the size of a pin’s head, and
with a piece of tallow, stick it on the edge of a drinking-glass. Then
take a lighted candle, and having blown it out, apply it to the glass,
when it will immediately be lighted. You may likewise write, with a bit
of phosphorus, on paper, some words, which will appear awful, when the
candle is withdrawn from the room.
PUNCH AND JUDY.
This famous puppet-show can easily be arranged for the parlor. The
first requirement of the performance will naturally be the _dramatis
personæ_. These, in the drama as usually played, are as follows:—
1. Punch. 2. Judy. 3. The Baby. 4. The Dog Toby. 5. The Clown. 6. The
Policeman (or Beadle). 7. The Hangman. 8. The Doctor. 9. The Ghost.
The head for each character must be carved out of wood, with a tubular
cavity in the neck large enough to admit the first joint of the
performer’s forefinger. Wooden arms and legs must next be prepared.
These need only extend to the elbow and knee, and the Baby will require
arms only. Appropriate costumes must next be manufactured. Mr. Punch
will have the usual conical hat, and Judy a frilled cap and black
ribbons. The body of each figure is a mere bag, just large enough to
admit, through an opening behind, the hand of the performer, whose
forefinger is thrust into the hollow of the neck, and the thumb and
second finger into the sleeves, thereby giving motion to the arms.
The robes of the various characters are firmly attached to the
respective heads, and the arms glued just within the lower part of
the sleeves. By slipping his hand, therefore within the robe, his
forefinger being inserted into the hole in the neck, and his thumb
and middle finger into the sleeves, as above mentioned, the performer
not only keeps the robe properly distended, but is able to impart the
requisite appearance of vitality to the figures.
Having described the characters, it next becomes necessary to say a
few words as to the “stage” whereon they perform. Most of our readers
will be familiar with the portable theatre of the genuine street
artists; a sentry-box-like wooden framework with a green baize cover,
within which the performer stands, while a movable shelf in front of
him supports the box which contains the puppets and other “properties”
of the mimic drama. A little simple stage-carpentering will transform
the domestic clothes-horse into a capital Punch-and-Judy theatre. Some
sort of ornamental framework or border should be tacked all round
the outer edge of the opening, by way of a kind of proscenium, and a
slip of thin board, three or four inches in width, should be nailed
horizontally across from side to side, to form the stage. The remainder
should be covered with green baize, tammy, or any other available
material, reaching to the ground. The structure should be placed
against a wall or window curtain, which will close its vacant side, and
form a convenient background.
Where even this simple arrangement is deemed too elaborate, an open
door, with a slip of wood tacked across it about six feet from the
floor, and a table cover hanging from this by way of curtain, will
serve as a tolerable makeshift.
The “properties” of the drama are not numerous. They consist of a
gallows or gibbet, made to fit, when in use, into a mortice cut into
the piece of wood which forms the stage, a couple of wooden sticks,
about a foot in length and half an inch in diameter, and an instrument
known as the “squeaker,” which is said to be used to produce those
peculiar vocal effects in which Mr. Punch delights. It consists of a
couple of pieces of tin, each about an inch and a quarter in length,
and three quarters in breadth. These, which are slightly curved in the
direction of their length, are laid one against the other (the concave
faces inward), with a piece of tape or China ribbon, of the same
breadth, stretched tightly between them, and the whole bound firmly
together with thread. This instrument is placed in the mouth, and is
asserted to produce the Root-i-too-ti-too! and other eccentricities of
the Punch language, and it is possible that in the hands (or rather the
mouths) of those who cultivate the art professionally, it really does
so. We must confess, however, that our own attempts in that direction
have not been successful, and after several very narrow escapes of
swallowing the instrument, we have come to the conclusion that a less
perfect Root-i-too, produced by natural means, is on the whole to be
preferred. Should any reader, after this warning, still be disposed to
run the risk of choking himself in the pursuit of artistic effect, far
be it from us to discourage his noble ardor.
It is customary to have a second or assistant showman, who stands
outside the theatre, and forms the orchestra, for which purpose he is
supplied with a set of Pandean pipes and a drum, or, for lack of these,
with the best substitutes available. In a drawing-room, some obliging
young lady at the piano-forte will generally render the performance
independent of his musical aid. But he has a second function somewhat
akin to that of the “Chorus” of a Greek play. His duty is to converse
with Mr. Punch, to “draw him out,” to elicit his views on things in
general, and his own domestic arrangements in particular, and last,
but not least, by judicious repetition, in the form of questions or
otherwise, to translate, so to speak, his observations to the audience.
The drama of Punch and Judy is based on tradition. The plot is pretty
much the same in all cases, but the dialogue varies according to the
taste and invention of the individual performer. We subjoin a specimen,
representing pretty nearly the popular version, on which the reader
may engraft such variations as he pleases.
Punch (heard below).—Roo-it-oot-i-too-it!
Showman.—Good morning, Mr. Punch.
Punch.—Good morning, Mr. Showman. Have you seen my Judy?
Showman.—Have I seen your Judy? No, sir, I don’t know the lady.
Punch.—She’s such a beauty! I’ll call her. Judy, my dear! Judy!
Enter Judy.
Judy.—Well, Mr. Punch, what do you want!
Punch.—Why, I want to give you a kiss, to be sure. (They embrace, then
dance.)
Punch.—Now Judy, my dear, go and fetch the baby. (Exit Judy.) Such a
beautiful baby! Just like me!
Showman.—Just like you, is he? Then he _must_ be a beauty!
Punch.—Oh, here he is! Dance a bady-diddy!
(Judy appears with baby, which she hands to Punch, and exit.)
Punch.—There’s a little popsy-wopsy! (Nurses baby and sings),
“Hush-a-bye, baby,
On the tree-top;
When the wind blows
The cradle will rock;
When the wind ceases
The cradle will fall,
Down will come cradle
And baby and all.”
(Baby cries, Punch slaps it and continues)—
“Hush-a-bye, baby,
Sleep while you can;
If you live till you’re older,
You’ll grow up a man.”
Oh, you little duck! There never was such a good child.
Master Punch (cries).—Mam-ma-a-a!
Punch (knocking the Baby’s head against the wall).—Go to sleep, you
naughty boy! (Resumes his song.)
“Hush-a-bye, baby——”
Master Punch (louder).—Mam-ma-a-a-a!
Punch (hitting harder).—Hush-a-bye!
Master Punch (yells).—Ya-a-a-ah-ah!
Punch (hitting him).—Be quiet, can’t you? Bless him, he’s got his
father’s nose! (The child seizes Punch by the nose.) Murder! Let go!
There! go to your mother, then. (Throws Master Punch into interior of
show, calls, “Judy, my dear! Judy!” then sings)—
“She’s all my fancy painted her,
She’s lovely, she’s divine.”
Enter Judy.
Judy.—Where’s the baby?
Punch.—The baby?
Judy.—Yes.
Punch.—What! did you not catch him?
Judy.—Catch him?
Punch.—Yes; I threw him out of window. I thought you might be passing.
Judy.—Oh, my poor child!
Punch.—Why, he was as much mine as yours.
Judy.—Oh, you cruel monster! I’ll tear your eyes out!
Punch.—Root-to-to-to-too-it! (They fight. Ultimately Punch ducks down,
and brings up stick, and, after a further scrimmage, hits Judy on the
head and kills her. The body remains hanging over front of stage. Punch
dances.)
Policeman (brandishing his staff).—Hullo! hullo! hullo! Here I am!
Punch.—Hullo! hullo! hullo! And so am I! (Whacks policeman over the
head.)
Policeman.—Do you see my staff, sir?
Punch.—Do you feel mine, sir? (Hits him again.)
Policeman.—No nonsense, Mr. Punch! You have committed murder, and you
must answer for it to the laws of your country.
Punch.—We don’t keep it.
Policeman.—No nonsense, Mr. Punch! I am a Policeman.
Punch.—And so am I!
Policeman.—You a Policeman?
Punch.—Yes.
Policeman.—Where’s your authority?
Punch.—There it is! (Knocks him down.)
Policeman (rising).—Mr. Punch, you are an ugly, ill-mannered fellow!
Punch.—You’re another!
Policeman.—Take your nose away from my face, sir!
Punch.—Take your face away from my nose, sir!
Policeman.—Pooh!
Punch.—Pooh! (Hits Policeman again.)
Policeman.—You have committed an aggravated assault and contempt of
court, and I am under the painful necessity of taking you up.
Punch.—And I am under the painful necessity of knocking you down.
(Kills him with a blow of his stick.)
Punch (dancing).—Root-to-to-to-too-it!
Showman.—Hullo, Mr. Punch, you’ve done it now!
Punch.—Oh yes, I’ve done it! What a day we are having! (Dances again.)
(Mysterious music. The Ghost rises and places its hands upon the bodies
of Punch’s victims. The bodies rise slowly and disappear.)
Punch (sings).—
“Rum-ti-um-ti-iddity-um,
Pop goes——”
Ghost.—Boo-o-o-o-oh!
Punch.—A-a-a-ah! (He throws up his hands and kicks wildly.)
Ghost.—Boo-o-o-o-oh!
Punch.—Oh, dear! oh, dear! It wasn’t me!
Ghost (points at Punch).—Boo-o-o-o-oh! (Punch faints. The Ghost sinks.)
Punch.—Oh, dear! I’m a dead man; somebody fetch a doctor.
Enter Doctor.
Doctor.—Who wants the doctor? Why, I declare, it is my old friend
Punch. What’s the matter with him, I wonder? (Feels the patient’s
pulse.) Fifteen—sixteen—eleven—nineteen—six. I don’t believe he’s quite
dead, though. Punch, _are_ you dead?
Punch (starting up and hitting him).—Yes, quite dead. Please bring me
to life again.
Doctor.—Where are you hurt? (Examines him. When he reaches the legs
Punch kicks him in the eye.) Oh, my eye, my eye! I must go and fetch
you some physic! [Exit.
Punch.—A pretty sort of doctor, to come without any physic!
Re-enter Doctor with stick.
Doctor.—Now, Mr. Punch, we’ll soon see whether you are dead? (Beating
him.) Physic! physic! physic!
Punch.—What sort of physic do you call that, Doctor?
Doctor.—Stick-licorice! stick-licorice! stick-licorice! (Repeats the
dose.)
Punch.—Stop a bit! Give me the bottle in my own hands. (Takes stick
from the Doctor, and thrashes him with it.) Physic! physic! physic!
Doctor.—Oh!
Punch.—Don’t you like your own physic? (Hitting him again.)
Stick-licorice! stick-licorice! stick-licorice!
Doctor.—For goodness’ sake, Punch, pay me my fee, and let me go!
Punch.—What is your fee? (Lays down stick.)
Doctor.—A five pound note.
Punch.—Give me the change out of a twopenny-halfpenny postage stamp.
Doctor.—I want five pounds.
Punch.—Let me feel for my purse. (Takes up the stick and hits
Doctor.) One! two! three! four! five! (Delivers five blows, and
Doctor falls lifeless.) The bill’s settled, and so is the doctor.
Root-to-to-to-too-it! (Sings and dances.)
Enter Joey, the Clown.
Joey.—Hullo, Mr. Punch! (Disappears again.)
Punch.—Who called me? (Looks round, and seeing no one, resumes his
song.)
“I dreamt that I dwelt in marble halls,
With vassals and serfs at my si-i-ide——”
(Joey rises, and taking up the dead body of the Doctor, bobs its head
in Punch’s face.)
Joey.—Boo!
Punch.—Who said “Boo?”
Joey (pushing Doctor into his face again).—Boo! boo! boo!
Punch.—Boo! boo! boo! (Knocks Doctor out of sight, and discovers
Clown.) Ah, Joey! was that you?
Joey.—No, it was I.
Punch.—Well, don’t do it again, because I’m nervous. Come and feel how
my hand shakes. (Clown approaches. Punch tries to hit him, but he
ducks and avoids the blow.) Come a little nearer; I won’t hurt you.
(Joey again approaches Punch, and again avoids the blow intended for
him.) There! it didn’t hurt you, did it?
Joey.—No.
Punch.—Nor that? (Makes another failure.)
Joey.—No.
Punch.—Nor that?
Joey.—Not a bit.
Punch.—Then what are you afraid of? Come and shake hands. (Joey
approaches, but has to duck down as before, to avoid a blow which Punch
makes at his head.) Joey, you’re a coward!
Joey.—Come on, then.
(Music. Terrific combat between Punch and Clown. The Clown dodges
all Punch’s blows, and after bobbing up and down in every direction,
suddenly appears behind Punch.)
Joey.—Hullo, Punch! (Disappears.)
Punch.—Where are you, Joey?
Joey (appearing behind Punch).—Here I am. (Disappears again.)
Punch.—I see you. (Peeps round cautiously and comes into collision with
Joey. Both start back. Punch lays down his stick and peeps cautiously
round the curtains.) I’ve got him now!
Joey (rising behind him and seizing stick).—And how do you like him?
(Cudgels Punch.)
Punch.—Murder! fire! thieves! Toby, come and help your master! (Toby
barks below. Exit Clown.)
Enter Toby.
Punch.—Good doggy! I knew you’d come to help your master. Poor little
Toby! (Rubs his head against the dog’s face.) Ain’t you fond of your
master? (Toby snaps.) Oh, my nose! Now, be a good dog, and you shall
have a pail of water and a broomstick for supper. (Toby snaps again.)
Be quiet, sir, or I’ll knock your brains out! (Toby barks, and Punch
attempts to strike him, but at the same instant Joey rises again.)
Joey.—Hullo! Why, that’s my dog Toby. Toby, old fellow, how are you?
(Toby barks.)
Punch.—He isn’t your dog.
Joey.—Yes, he is!
Punch.—No, he isn’t!
Joey.—He is, I tell you! A fortnight ago I lost him.
Punch.—And a fortnight ago I found him.
Joey.—We’ll soon settle which of us the dog belongs to, Mr. Punch.
We’ll fight for him. (Ducks down and comes up with a stick.) Now don’t
you begin till I say “Time.” (Punch knocks Joey down.) Mr. Punch, that
wasn’t fair.
Punch.—Why, you said “Time.”
Joey.—I didn’t.
Punch.—What did you say, then?
Joey.—I said, “Don’t you begin till I say ‘Time.’”
Punch (knocking him down again).—There! you said it again.
Joey.—Toby, assist your master. (Toby flies at Punch.)
Punch.—It isn’t fair; he didn’t say “Time.”
Joey.—At him again, Toby! (Toby barks, and Clown thrashes Punch.)
Punch.—Murder! call him off!
Joey.—Oh, you’ve had enough have you? Very well. Come along, Toby!
(Exit with Toby.)
Punch (calling after them).—I wouldn’t have him at a gift; he’s got the
distemper! Root-to-to-to-too-it!
Enter Hangman with gallows.
Hangman.—Mr. Punch, you are my prisoner.
Punch.—What for?
Hangman.—For having broken the laws of your country.
Punch.—Why, I never touched them.
Hangman.—At any rate you are to be hanged.
Punch.—But I never was tried and condemned.
Hangman.—Never mind! We’ll hang you first and try you afterward.
Punch.—Hanged? Oh, dear! oh, dear!
Hangman.—Yes; and I hope it will be a lesson to you. (Erects the
gallows on the stage.)
Punch.—Oh, my poor wife and sixteen small children! most of them twins,
and the oldest only three years of age.
Hangman.—Now, Mr. Punch, you are ordered for instant execution.
Punch.—What’s that?
Hangman.—You are to be hanged by the neck till you are dead! dead! dead!
Punch.—What! three times?
Hangman.—No; once will be enough. Place your head in the centre of this
noose.
Punch.—Stop a bit; I haven’t made my will.
Hangman.—We can’t help that. Come, put your head in.
Punch (putting his head one side of the noose).—Where? There?
Hangman.—No; higher up.
Punch (putting his head over).—There?
Hangman.—No; lower down.
Punch.—Well, I never was hanged before, so how should I know how it’s
done?
Hangman.—I suppose I must show you the way. Now, then, keep your eye on
me. I put my head in the noose—so! (Puts his head in the noose.)
Punch.—Oh, like that, is it? (Pulls the rope tightly, and hangs the
hangman.) Oee! oee! oee! I understand all about it. Root-to-too-it!
Here’s a man tumbled into a ditch, and hung himself up to dry.
Hurra! hurra! I’ve done the trick!
Jack Ketch is dead, and Punch is free!
(Ghost rises, and taps Punch on the shoulders.)
Ghost.—You’re wanted.
Punch.—Oh, dear! oh, dear! What for?
Ghost.—In the other world, to answer for your misdeeds.
Punch.—Stop a bit! whom were you to ask for?
Ghost.—Why, Punch, the man who was to be hanged.
Punch—Oh, the man that was to be hanged; then that’s the gentleman you
want! (Points to Hangman.)
Ghost.—Oh! I beg your pardon! Good night! (Carries off Hangman.)
Punch (hitting the sinking Ghost with the stick).—Good night! Pleasant
journey to you! (Sings).
Root-to too-it! serves him right,
All my foes are put to flight;
Ladies and gentlemen all, good night,
To the freaks of Punch and Judy!
(_Curtain falls._)
THE “ART” EXHIBITION.
The elaborate “sell” which goes by this name is an institution which
has only sprung up within the last three or four years. We have seen
it introduced on two or three occasions at fancy fairs and charity
bazaars, at which it has proved a great attraction.
A regular printed catalogue is got up, containing apparently the names
of a collection of pictures or sculpture, each object duly numbered,
and with the name of the artist appended. In some instances the name of
a (supposed) picture is followed by an appropriate quotation in poetry
or prose, after the orthodox fashion of the American Academy and other
galleries. We append, by way of illustration, a selection from the
catalogue of a collection which has met with great success:
EXHIBITION OF THE WORKS OF LIVING ARTISTS
CATALOGUE.
PART I.
WORKS OF ART.
1. Horse Fair After Rosa Bonheur.
2. A Brush with a Cutter off Deal Carpenter.
3. Caught in Squall off Yarmouth Fisher.
4. The Last of poor Dog Tray Barker.
5. “He will return, I know he will” Lent by the Trustees of
the Parish.
6. The Midnight Hour C. Lock.
7. Heroes of Waterloo Schumacher.
8. True to the Core C. Odling.
9. “Spring, Spring, Beautiful Spring!” Mayne.
10. “Tears, Idle Tears” Strong.
11. The Midnight Assassin F. Sharpe.
12. The Dripping Well T. Inman.
13. Family Jars Potter.
14. Never Too Late to Mend S. Titch
15. Past Healing Köbler.
16. The First Sorrow Smalchild.
17. Saved S. Kinflint.
18. Lost.
19. First Love Sweet.
20. The Death of the Camel After Goodall.
21. His First Cigar A. Young.
22. A Good Fellow Gone M. I. Slade.
23. Portrait of a Gentleman Anonymous.
24. Portrait of a Lady Anonymous.
25. Our Churchwardens Screw.
26. Portraits of the Reigning Sovereigns of Europe G. P. O.
[Taken by special order.]
27. Waifs of Ocean Fish.
“Strange things come up to look at us,
The monsters of the deep.”
28. The Last Man Unknown.
29. Contribution from the celebrated
Sheepshanks Collection Butcher.
30. The Light of Other Days Dimm.
31. The Meet of Her Majesty’s Hounds Pratt.
32. Water Scene
“And I hear
Those waters rolling from the mountain springs
With a sweet inland murmur.”
33. The Maiden’s Joy Bachelor.
34. The Fall Adam.
35. Motherhood
“She laid it where the sunbeams fall
Unscanned upon the broken wall,
Without a tear, without a groan
She laid it near a mighty stone
Which some rude swain had haply cast
Thither in sport, long ages past,—
There in its cool and quiet bed
She set her burden down and fled;
Nor flung, all eager to escape,
One glance upon the perfect shape
That lay, still warm and fresh and fair,
But motionless and soundless there.”
_C. S. Calverley._
36. A Friendly Party on Hampstead Heath Moke.
37. Borrowed Plumes Wigg.
38. Out for the Night Anonymous.
39. Something to Adore Anonymous.
40. The Wearied Grinder Mayne Force.
“Change and decay in all around I see.”
41. Repentance G. Templar.
42. Maggie’s Secret Rossetter.
43. Somebody’s Luggage S. Canty.
44. Eusebius B. Linkers.
45. Happy Childhood Wackford Squeers.
46. Not such a Fool as he looks The Exhibitor.
PART II
CURIOSITIES
47. A choice Collection of Old China.
48. A fine Specimen of Local Quartz discovered in the Possession of a
Workman during the Building of the New Town Hall.
49. The Skull of the Last of the Mohicans.
50. A Marble Group.
51. Bust.
52. The Puzzle.
53. The Instantaneous Kid Reviver.
54. The Earnest Entreaty.
EXPLANATION.