_Joe_. What do you want?
_Demon_ (_darkly_). To have a little fun with you!
Of fiendish humour now I"ll give a specimen.
[_Chases him round and round stage, and proceeds to smear him hideously with jam._
_Joe_ (_piteously_). Oh, don"t! I feel _so_ sticky. _What_ a mess I"m in!
_Demon_ (_with affected sympathy_). That _is_ the worst of jam--it"s apt to stain you.
[_To_ JOE, _as he frantically endeavours to remove the traces of his crime._
I see you"re busy--so I"ll not detain you!
[_Vanishes down star-trap with a diabolical laugh.
Cupboard-doors close with a clang; all lights down._ JOE _stands gazing blankly for some moments, and then drags himself off stage. His Mother and_ JOHN, _with Pear-and-Plum-gatherers bearing laden baskets, appear at doors at back of Scene, in faint light of torches._
[Ill.u.s.tration: The Demon!]
_Re-enter_ JOE _bearing a candle and wringing his hands._
_Joe._ Out, jammed spot! What--will these hands _never_ be clean? Here"s the smell of the raspberry jam still! All the powders of Gregory cannot unsweeten this little hand ... (_Moaning._) Oh, oh, oh!
[_This pa.s.sage has been accused of bearing too close a resemblance to one in a popular Stage Play; if so, the coincidence is purely accidental, as the Dramatist is not in the habit of reading such profane literature._
_Joe"s Mother._ Ah! what an icy dread my heart benumbs!
See--stains on all his fingers, and his thumbs!
"What Joe was about, His mother found out, When she look"d at his fingers and thumbs."--_Poem again._
Nay, Joseph--"tis your mother ... speak to her!
_Joe_ (_tonelessly, as before_). Lady, I know you not (_touches lower part of waistcoat_); but, prithee, undo this b.u.t.ton. I think I have jam in all my veins, and I would fain sleep. When I am gone, lay me in a plain white jelly-pot, with a parchment cover, and on the label write--but come nearer, I have a secret for your ear alone ... there are strange things in _some_ cupboards! Demons should keep in the dust-bin.
(_With a ghastly smile._) I know not what ails me, but I am not feeling at all well.
[JOE"S Mother _stands a few steps from him, with her hands twisted in her hair, and stares at him in speechless terror._
_Joe_ (_to the Chorus_). I would shake hands with you all, were not my fingers so sticky. We eat marmalade, but we know not what it is made of.
Hush! if Jim-Jam comes again, tell him that I am not at home.
Loo-loo-loo!
_All_ (_with conviction_). Some shock has turned his brine!
_Joe_ (_sitting down on floor, and weaving straws in his hair._) My curse upon him that invented jam. Let us all play Tibbits.
[_Laughs vacantly; all gather round him, shaking their heads, his_ Mother _falls fainting at his feet as curtain falls upon a strong and moral, though undeniably gloomy denoument._
III.--THE MAN-TRAP.
This Drama, which, like our last, has been suggested by a poem of the Misses Taylor, will be found most striking and impressive in representation upon the Music-hall stage. The dramatist has ventured to depart somewhat from the letter, though not the spirit, of the original text, in his desire to enforce the moral to the fullest possible extent.
Our present piece is intended to teach the great lesson that an inevitable Nemesis attends apple-stealing in this world, and that Doom cannot be disarmed by the intercession of the evil-doer"s friends, however well-meaning.
THE MAN-TRAP!
_A THRILLING MORAL MUSICAL SENSATION SKETCH IN ONE SCENE._
DRAMATIS PERSONae.
_William_ (_a Good Boy_) Mr. HARRY NICHOLLS.
_Thomas_ (_a Bad Boy_) Mr. HERBERT CAMPBELL.
(_Who have kindly offered their services._) _Benjamin_ (_neither one thing nor the other_) Mr. SAMUEL SUPER.
_The Monster Man-Trap_ Mr. GEORGE CONQUEST.
SCENE.--_An elaborate set, representing, on extreme left, a portion of the high road, and wall dividing it from an orchard; realistic apple- and pear-trees laden with fruit. Time, about four o"clock on a hot afternoon. Enter_ WILLIAM _and_ THOMAS, _hand-in-hand, along road; they ignore the dividing wall, and advance to front of stage._
_Duet._--WILLIAM _and_ THOMAS.
_Wm._ I"m a reg"lar model boy, I am; so please make no mistake.
It"s Thomas who"s the bad "un--_I"m_ the good!
_Thos._ Yes, I delight in naughtiness for naughtiness"s sake, And I wouldn"t be like William if I could!
_Chorus._
_Wm._ Ever since I could toddle, my conduct"s been model, There"s, oh, such a difference between me and him!
_Thos._ While still in the cradle, I orders obeyed ill, And now I"ve grown into a awful young limb!
{ he"s } _Together._ Yes, now { I"ve } grown into a awful young limb.
I"ve made up my mind not to imitate _him_!
[_Here they dance._
_Second Verse._
_Wm._ If someone hits him in the eye, he always. .h.i.ts them back!
When _I_ am struck, my Ma I merely tell!
On pa.s.sing fat pigs in a lane, he"ll give "em each a whack!
_Thos._ (_impenitently_). And jolly fun it is to hear "em yell!