Puck — January 23, 1889 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

hat ke PY 3, life ak- atid his the ms ck- uld re. an ick en all, 1,” et. ble she pee THEIR KNOWL Miss SIKATHWOKE (of Aenington Terrace, shabby of them not to send a boat ashore for us, MS. STRATIMOKE.— Elvise, these Anter OF THE COUNTRY. STAGE PENMANSHIP. £ becomes so elevated that we can not sec it, | wish to make a suggestion. The present style of stage penmanship is demoraliz- ing; witness: Enter R. U. E., beautiful but misguided heroine, (though she will probably R. U, E. it before the play is over; but never mind that, now,) accompanied stealthily by hand- some villain in a painfully audible check suit of clothes, and with a ‘concealed weapons” ap- pearance, with whom she has concluded to elope. But M. H, advances falteringly to black walnut centre table with gilt ornamentation and writing material upon it. She falters some more ; but, upon H. V. becoming impatient and saying, “Come, do you doubt meh love?” just as the author of the play directs him to do, she decides with a despairing gasp, thereby giving the audience to understand that they really don’t know how trying this sort of thing is, quickly seizes the pen, makes one fell swoop at the defenseless ink bottle, and then reads to the audience, in a tearful and tremulous voice, as she writes : “Farewell to my dear parents, home and friends. 1 go bravely out into the world with him whom I love best, and who has sworn to love, protect, and make a lady of me. Forgive me—I could not be happy here. Think of me as one dead to you all.” Now this is apparently written as rapidly as judicious modulation and correct accent will permit her to repeat it, and it must necessarily be illegible. She docs not take her pen from the paper while writing ; but slides it across the sheet in a “through train” manner, which neces- sarily precludes the slight attentions usually shown to the /’s and 7’s and other features, and gives the audience the impression that she is only making believe and does n’t know how to write. She might write the letter in a cold silence, broken only by several dark-colored sinister chuckles from the villain, and then read it to him as he stands near her with a sarcastic smile upon his handsome mug, and the audience, being concealed in front of the footlights, would thus get the benefit of her epistolary effort. : No wonder her poor old gray-haired father gives a horrified start as he glances at this letter, and then gets a weakness in his back and has to sit down and rest, while the country lover of his daughter, who is sof a villain, reads it for him, I don’t believe even We could read it, unless he knew about it beforehand. I never saw a stage letter; but I think it must resemble a telegraphic dispatch written in its own native language. "The old man may toss off a glass of home-brewed ale in a way that shows plainly there was nothing in the glass; the heroine may be reduced to the direst poverty and still wear diamond ear-rings; and the villain may pause in his most impassioned utterance and listen, with the audi- lence of the prompter; the leading juvenile may use a roll of green advertising slips to represent untold wealth; the faith- servant of the first act may appear in act two without noticeable alteration in his make-up, as an unprincipled wretch, with a deplorable appeteney in the direction of homicide, and they may still exclaim: “Ab! here he comes now!” by way of heralding the approach of a new character; but stage letters should be characterized by less haste and greater probable legibility. HW. 1, Wilson. WHY FRIENDSHIP WAS POSSIBLE. Ae Miss Fanny T. Payne (after the pro- posal). —It is impossible, Mr. Askin! “But though this refusal may bring you pain, | hope that we may meet in the future as friends. Mr. Asis (bitterly). —Oh, that is quite possible. There seems no chance now of our ever meeting as relations ! THE LION OF THE LADIES. Mrs, Mormp,—I have called, sir, to offer some words of sympathy to the unfortunate wife-murderer in Cell 1001. Prison Orrictat.— Take a chair, madam, As soon as a new block of six is made up, we will dismiss the ladies who are calling on him now. Our corridors are very narrow, you know. A BRILLIANT PROSPECT. Ansext-Minoeo Maw (¢2 a bob-fail car).— Conductor, 1 think 1 dropped a five-dollar gold piece in the box instead of a nickel. Street Car Daiver.—Well, sit down in the corner and ride it out. I'm very busy just now, and can’t be bothered.