"PAPER" IN THE STALLS. (AS ESTIMATED FROM THE PIT.) Readers are asked to imagine themselves-just for once-in the Pit of a first-class London Theatre. They will be relieved to find that they are perfectly comfortable, and can see and hear admirably. Not that there is anything to see or hear at present, as the doors have only just been opened, the lights are down, the orchestra vacant, and the white backs of the stalls suggest an Arctic region of frozen waves. In the middle of the front row of the Pit are a quartette whose conversation we, being immediately behind them, cannot avoid overhearing. They are a typical party of Modern Pittites, with nothing in their appearance, manner or accent to distinguish them from the occupants of the Dress Circle, though they are either less well off, or else they go to the play so frequently as to make the price a matter for consideration. It evidently does not occur to them-as why should it?--that there is the slightest reason for feeling ashamed of being young and lighthearted enough to extract enjoyment even from a long wait outside the Pit doors, and an equally long one within the theatre. JACK and MAUD; PERCY and ETHEL, are brother and sister respectively, and, if they are not actually two engaged couples as yet, it is probably only a question of time. Ethel (daintily patting her hair, after pinning a very becoming hat to the partition in front. N.B.-Ladies in the Pit now invariably remove their hats as a matter of course an act of gracious courtesy and consideration to those behind them to which no lady in a stall at a matinée would ever dream of condescending.) There don't seem to be very many in the Pit, so far. I thought this piece was such a success? All the critics spoke highly of it, didn't they? Percy. Yes called it "a thoroughly sweet and wholesome English comedy." Enough to put most people off it! Jack. Rather a sell for us if it turns out to be absolute footle! Ethel. I don't mind. I always love ADRIAN BRACEGIRDLE, whatever he's in. Still, I do hope he hasn't got a failure! Percy. We shall soon find out if he has by the amount of "Paper" in the Stalls. Ethel. Paper in the Stalls? What do you mean? Jack. PERCY means the people who come in without paying --with orders, you know. Ethel. But how is one to tell from here whether they've paid or not? Percy. Nothing easier. I'd back myself to spot 'em every time. Maud. Then you shall point them out to us--it will be rather fun. Percy. No necessity to point 'em out. They give themselves away. For one thing, they always arrive with morbid punctuality-long before the orchestra. Why, I don't know, unless the Management makes a point of it. (An Attendant enters by the Stall Entrance on the left.) There's some Paper on its way already-I know it by the elevation of that young woman's nose. (A pair of depressed elderly females drift forlornly in, and have to be shepherded out of the wrong row of stalls and into their appointed seats). There you are, Those red and white woolly things are peculiar to Paper-anti-macassars by day, and "clouds" by night. Maud. There's another couple just coming in from the right. Are they Paper, too? you see! Jack. I should say so. But if he does wear side-whiskers, he might run to a white tie! Percy. He's got one at home-a made-up bow. Only, you see, the elastic loop went wrong, and his wife-the lady in the blue plush opera-cloak-said there wasn't time to mend it, and besides, a black tie was full-dress anywhere: she had noticed several quite smart young men wearing them at Cricklewood dances. So he put it on, and stuck a red pocket-handkerchief inside his waistcoat as a finishing touch and here he is, no end of a buck! Maud. Can't say I admire the lady's taste in frocks. Sulphur is decidedly not her colour! lace. Oh, but do look at those queer people coming in now. Ethel. Especially with turquoise bows and machine-made Do you see?-the pale young man in a soft felt hat and a caped cloak. Now he's taken his hat off and is running his hand dreamily through his long hair. Jack. Must be something in the poetical line. What does PERCY think? Is he "Paper"? 66 Percy. He's Paper right enough. Got in by presenting his card at the Box Office. He's on the Stage. Walks on, as they call it. Just now he's resting. Maud. And what about the girl with him-in a kind of Grecian robe with long white mittens, and a gilt laurel wreath in her hair? Percy. She's a member of the Profession, too. She has great gifts. Played Juliet once at the Bijou Theatre, Bayswater, and would be a leading lady now, only Actor-Managers at the West End won't engage her for fear she 'll play them off the stage. So she recites "The Fireman's Wedding" at Acton "At Homes" instead. They will both be tremendously down on the piece and the acting-particularly the acting. Maud. How can you possibly know all that? Percy. Oh, well-anyone who wears gilt laurels in her hair naturally would recite "The Fireman's Wedding." Jack. I say more Paper! Look-stout old party in black satin, with a white shawl and a magenta feather in her cap! How does she come here? Percy. Theatrical landlady-the meek little chap with the rebellious shirt-front is her husband-waits at parties if required, so he's quite at home in faultless evening-dress. Maud. I feel quite sorry for this next couple that poor old husband and wife who are coming in now. I'm sure they'd be ever so much more comfortable at home on a night like this. What could have induced them to come out? Percy. Oh, they received an order from the Management"theirs not to reason why!" &c. If the summons had been to the Upper Circle they might have hesitated-but they couldn't resist Complimentary Stalls. That would have fetched them even if they'd been at their last gasp-they'd have managed to put off their decease and turn up somehow. As it is, if only there are no draughts in the Stalls, and the cab windows fit fairly close, they mayn't be much the worse for their outing to-morrow. Ethel. Well, I hope they'll enjoy themselves now they are here. Percy. They don't look as if they expected to. But Paper generally is pessimistic. Result of bitter experience, I suppose. Maud. Gracious! What a ghastly, cadaverous-looking creature that is over there do you see him yet?-in the ulster and cloth cap. No not that side-by the pillar on the right. Percy. I've got him now. Yes still more singular instance of the tremendous power an order has over the confirmed "dead-head." He's come up all the way from Brookwood, which is his present address-I suppose the order was forwarded. Well, you'd hardly think it would be worth his while but they tell me the place is rather quiet, not much life in it, so probably he felt he wanted a change. Anyhow, here he ishe 'll go back to-night by the last Necropolitan from Waterloo. Maud. You're not to be grisly. But really, why do Managers send stalls to such a very quaint set of people? Percy. Well, one is generally told it's done to convey a MAY 10, 1905.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. false impression to the rest that the show is such a brilliant success that it's attracting all the smartest people in London. But of course a Manager isn't really so simple as that. He'd have 'em properly made up if he really meant to deceive. It isn't that. Maud and Ethel. Then what is it done for? CHARIVARIA. I'LL GO AND ASK THE PRICE." THE President of the Royal Academy complained, at the Banquet, of the ugly garb in which the Army is dressed at the present moment; and, as the Royal Academy is an influential body, it is thought that art ties will shortly be served out to our soldiers. pictures in the Royal Academy. The printing difficulties, however, seem to be almost insuperable, and it is said that the painter of August Sunshine received a request from one of these journals for permission to change the title to November Fog. Hamlet has again been successfully But, conrendered without scenery. sidering our present high achievements in the art of scene-painting, if you must dispense with one of the two, why not Percy. Merely to provide the Pit and Sir LAWRENCE ALMA-TADEMA, it is said, Gallery with a little mild entertainment is to receive £14,000 for "The Finding till the orchestra is ready to begin. of of Moses." This sum exceeds the Jack. Sort of free Exhibition Freaks. But the orchestra is beginning highest prize ever won in a Hidden dispense with the acting? no more Freaks now! Maud. I'm so sorry. I should like to see some of them come in all over again! Percy. Ah, pity they don't know the F. A. impression they've made. Anti-Vivisectionists, please note. YOUNG LADY desires re-engagement as Clerk; five years' experience; used to dissection.-Portsmouth Evening News. Ir is reported that adders are multiIs this a direct plying in Norfolk. result of the Daily Mail's "Breakfasttable Problems"? Treasure Competition. It is semi-officially denied that the "A well-known painter," not a mem-leading feature of Mr. STEPHEN PHILLIPS' ber of the Royal Academy, has divulged forthcoming play, Nero, is to be a real to an interviewer that he is in favour of fire-engine dashing on to the stage. an extension of membership. At a recent meeting of the Glasgow Town Council the Lord Provost declared that he had received a letter from Mr. HALL CAINE, but had either dropped it into the waste-paper basket or thrown it aside. Mr. HALL CAINE is of the opinion that the improbability of this story is so obvious that it is unnecessary to take any notice of it. BE ILL. NO GOOD. OUR VILLAGE. Village Dame (describing various aches and pains). "MY THROAT 'E DID GO TICKLE, TICKLE, TICKLE, TILL. I SES, I MUST BE AGOIN' TO So I 'OLDS UN TIGHT WI' MY 'AND, BUT THAT DIDN'T DO NO GOOD; THEN I PUTS MY OLD STOCKING ROUND UN, BUT THAT DIDN'T DO So IN THE MARNIN' I TALKED IT OVER WITH MRS. GILES NEXT DOOR, AND WE THOUGHT AS WE'D SEND OVER TO THE WHITE 'ORSE' FOR THREEPENNORTH O' GIN, 'cos I SES, 'PRAPS IT MAY DO I GOOD, AN' PRAPS IT MAYN'T. BUT EVEN IF IT DON'T,' I SES, YOU CAN'T TAKE IT WHEN YOU BE DEAD!" This is an age of reprints. Accord- As a natural result, in certain parts of admission to some charitable instituing to one of our contemporaries some London an immense demand for a list of tion. As we have explained before, such publishers are even bringing the books such offences has been created among a collection carries with it the right of up to date, for the journal in question those aliens who are anxious to commit entrance to certain lunatic asylums. acknowledges the receipt of a popular all the others. edition of Tom Browne's Schooldays. We presume that FIELDING's Tom de Jones will follow in due course. We are sorry to have to complain of the manners of an earthquake which visited North Wales last week. Not only did it throw several privates in the Shropshire Militia out of bed, but it "rudely disturbed" one of their officers. All that can be urged in mitigation of this gross impertinence is that the officer was at the time sleeping without his uniform, and his rank was therefore not apparent. We learn from the Irish Independent that men imprisoned in Cork Gaol for resisting the police at an eviction have been serenaded by a brass band. It is indeed a pleasant change to find lawbreakers being discouraged in "Rebel Cork." A Sydney gentleman has patented a scheme for supplying fresh air to households from the clouds by an arrangement of captive balloons and tubes. The inventor has submitted his plans to local doctors, who have advised him to take a rest. One of the provisions of the new Aliens Bill is a power to expel aliens already A correspondent writes to the Daily resident in this country when convicted Mail to enquire whether there is any an offence for which they could be foundation for the belief that by collectisoned without the option of a fine. ing a million old stamps one can obtain The CZAR has conceded religious freedom to all his subjects except the Jews. Still the Jews must be thankful for small mercies. They retain the right to die for their CZAR in Manchuria. The Army boot-workers on strike have announced their intention of marching on the War Office. This is really too bad. The War Office has done nothing. A new motor street-cleaning machine which is about to be placed on the market will, it is claimed, even sweep up dogs (with the exception of St. Bernards). Our pretty May Day customs die hard.! RIGHT HON. ALFR-D L-TT-LT-N (COLONIAL SECRETARY). "THERE, MY BOY, THAT 'S SOMETHING LIKE A HORSE! HE 'LL CARRY YOU TOPPINGLY FOR SOME TIME TO COME." TRANSVAAL BURGHER. "H'M-MUCH OBLIGED. (Aside) DOUBT IF HE'D PASS DE VET!" |