Puck — March 27, 1878 — page 7: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

PUCK. FITZNOODLE IN AMERICA. No. LI, CINCINNATI. Ya-as, this town with such aw an ex- extwaordinarwy name is some maw west. It is, I am told, a gweat place for pigs—although I’m not certain if the wegular inhabi- tants of the place come under this categorwy. I weally don’t see how I can stand aw much maw west. One aw town is so awfully like anothah that it’s dweadfully difficult to de- scwibe their wemarkable features, for the verwy simple weason that they haven't got any wemark- able features. One aw shop stwongly wesembles anothah aw shop—and, by the way aw, there always appear the same dwaper’s shop in aw everwy city or aw town I've been obliged to look at since I've been in this blasted countwy. I'm afwaid I can’t wite long letters about such aw things—as Jack verwy twuly ‘wemarks, no fellaw can make b-b-bwicks without stwaw, Curwious for Jack to say this, as I said nothing about aw bwicks, or stwaw either, for that mattah. There is a wespectable Amerwican hotel called the Gwand we're staying at aw he-ah, and there are two or thwee stweets with fajr-looking wesidences which are not bad. PATRONIZING PIETY. AR (A7 E are getting pretty well tired of this handmaid business. We don't care to hear any longer that Art, under proper restrictions, may be made of service in the cause of religious progress: that painting may serve the church militant, and the drama be made the hand-maiden of religion. The thing is get- ting wearisome. Every now and then some small prelate, some minor bishop or tuppenny-hapenny exhorter - gets up to make this statement to a congregation of devout worshippers who don’t know a land- scape by Turner from a chromo by Bierstadt; and who probably. couldn't tell Solon Shingle from Othello. . The last man who has been trying to get a little cheap advertisement at the expense of the drama is the Bishop’ of Melbourne. He has been gravely considering the status of the thea- tre, has the Bishop of Melbourne, and trying tovbalance its sinfulness against the different iniquity of cricket-matches and spelling-bees. He has come to the conclusion that the Drama, if it makes a show of becoming humility, may be admitted to the lofty position of “the hand- maid of religion and’morality.” Such is the enlightened deliverance of the Bishop of Mel- bourne. This thing might as well be understood first as last. Art isn’t anybody’s handmaid. She isn’t in the handmaid business at present; never was, and never will be. If religion and morality want a handmaid, they may go and get her in the regular way, by advertisement or out of an intelligence office. If they can’t suit them- selves, they may'do their own chores. Art, dramatic, pictorial or literary, is going to do nobody’s work. She is here on this earth by as good a right as any other institution, and she proposes to live and labor for her own per- sonal behoof and benefit. She has no apolo- ies to make for her existence, and she is per- fectly capable of standing in her own independ- ent brogans, and scratching for herself. Itis not obligatory upon the Bishop of Mel- bourne to goto the theatre. If he doesn’t like the show they give him at Melbourne (not that we particularly, blame him for that, though,) he can stay away. Bishops never loomed up to much advantage in the box sheet of any thea- tre. He can go to his church fair, where they sell ten cent penwipers for a dollar, and throw in a free exhibition of attractive younz women, if lofty morality is what he’s after. But in any case, let him drop the handmaid line of argu- ment. ‘That metaphor is played, and we take plea- sure in giving this piece of information to the public. The requirements of Art are so intan- gible; her life is so unobtrusive, and her ways so quiet, that she too frequently forgets to as- sert herself and rebuke these exhibitions of clerical freshness. But there are times, and this is one of them, when it becomes the duty of Art to get up on her hind-legs, and refuse to be patted on the back, while she announces to the world at large her intenzion of minding her business, and insisting on a strictly reciprocal policy on the part of the general public, pro- vincial and colonial bishops included. yt 2 DRAMATIC NOTES. Josu Hart has come to the surface in Phila- delphia. Tue Aquarium Chimpanzee will survive if they can keep Puck away from him. . Hore deferred and a benefit deferred have the same effect. It is recorded in the book of quotations, “© UncLe Tom’s Cain" is to be given at the Fifth Avenue. It is apt to spring up anywhere and at any time. “Remorse” at the National. Wallace Grant as Roscoe Conkling —we mean Clarendon—is the significant announcement. **Our Bacuetors, the Exiles,” are the cur- rent Broadway attractions. The Union Square has achieved a Celebrated Case of success. EVANGELINE is again with us, and to the in- quiry, “Where art thou, my. beloved ?” answer can be made: At the Grand Opera House for another week. **Scnoot,” “ Money,” and “ London Assu- rance,” are being given this week at Wallack’s. “ Diplomacy,” a combination of the three, will be the succeeding novelty. Tue fair Imogene is showing the Olympic patrons the true characteristics of Gretchen, the Shepherdess of Jura. We have warned our readers of her approach. ‘Tue dramatic profession is composed largely of quasi actors who wish to make money, and quasi managers who wish to lose it. The latter class are in the ascendant just now. A Man who plays the Czar of Russia at a dramatic entertainment gets $9 a week for it, but‘ bare-back rider at a circus receives $400. Is it just, is it right, is it praiseworthy ? ‘THe Count Bozenta has joined Mme, Mod- jeska. The Countess and the Boston critics are. ppy. A dinner at a palatial hotel avails ex- ceedingly with the patrons of the drama. Maccre Mircueut is playing Fanchon at the Standard -this week—a part intimately asso- ciated with her earliest triumphs, as well as with the moonlight shadow-dance and large houses. Tue ‘Remarkable History of Lispet,” by Leonard Grover, will be given at the Bowery Theatre next week. It bears the same relation to genuine melodrama that ‘‘ Our Boarding- House ” does to comedy. % Miss Kewioce, Miss Cary and Marie Réze, the tuneful triumvirate, are drawing large andi- ences at Booth’s Theatre. The time not occu- pied in singing is said to be employed in belligerent circus. Miss Kell thinks Miss Cary too mean for anything. Miss Cary thinks the same of Miss Kellogg, with obligato accom- paniment; and Marie Réze’s opinion of the pair defies even the indignation of a trill. All of which only serves to extensively advertise. the fact that opera is well sung every night in the week, the price of the best seats being two dol- lars each. If you don’t like this construction, you can place any other on the matter you like, Goerne, the author of ‘‘ Wilhelm Meister,” had the reputation of being a contemplative man, But he probably never contemplated the existence of J. B, Runnion, of Chicago, or the circumstance that he would put his “ Wilhelm | Meister” into dramatic form and call it “ Mig- non.” This may have emboldened Runnion to the deed, but it-is no excuse for introducing Lord Dundreary into the German pastoral, or | calling Miss Ida Jeffreys “‘an’actress” on the | bill. Runnion’s work was withdrawn from the Standard on Saturday night, and there is now no reason why Goethe's birthday should not be celebrated this year as usual, Tue husband of George Elliot has. been making a few remarks about. the relative excel- lence of Charles Fechter’s performances of Hamletand Othello, His performance of Othello has no excellence, relative or otherwise. Con- cerning the other one Miss Elliot's husband is of opinion that ‘he played Hamlet, and gave a new and charming.,sepresentation to a part in which’ no actor. bass been known to play badly.” ‘ Charming representation to a part ” is good. If he had received a bill-board ticket to see Master Wood~ tackle the ‘melancholy Dane” at Booth’s last week, he would not have said this. De ‘ ido we tell you she would? McVickeR.—So you want the “tall grasses to wave Over your lonely grave,” do you? Now, look here, McV. We're not given to betting, as a rule; but we are'willing to put up our ‘basement ninety-two cents that you don’t desire that consummation one quarter as ardeatly as we do. S.G. S.—They went to the prison at night, and in spite of his cries and entreaties, they bound him hand and foot, and with the rope around his neck, dragged him a mile and a-half out of the city, where they bung him to the limb of a tree, And yet that man had only murdered two women with a hammer; and was born in Kentucky, and knew no better. #e had never written such paragraphs as those you have sent us, MaGa.—Certainly, George Washington was jimiber- jawed—properly spelled gimbal, But that was & of nature. But a man who writes on both sides of his Paper is not a freak of nature, He is a corrupt product of an over-wrought civilization. And he lands in the waste-basket every time. comicbooks.com