PN 1979 
 P9 
 1879 
 Copy 1 
 
Class 
 Book. 
 
 . _ - 
 
 CqpgM l^1j 
 
 CUPXRIGHT DEPOSm 
 
NEW YORK: 
 
 J3UL.-&JP-Y- HOURS oo:Mi:pj>L:isrTr : 
 
 NO. 5 BEEKMAN STREET. 
 
J>3t- 
 
 /6<ZLO 
 
 PU^CH AID JUDY. 
 
MR. PUNCH 
 
 FROM THE OBIGINAL BY 
 
 GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. 
 
THE TKAGICAL ACTS, 
 
 OE COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 OF 
 
 PUNCH AND JUDY, 
 
 WITH TvVENTY-THEEE ILLUSTRATIONS, 
 
 FROM ORIGINALS BY 
 
 GEOKGE CRTTIKSHAJSK. 
 
 AND OTHEE PLATES, 
 
 ACCOMPANIED BY THE DIALOGUE OF THE PUPPET-SHOW, AN ACCOUNT OF ITS 
 
 ORIGIN, AND OF PUPPET-PLAYS IN ITALY, ENGLAND AND AMERICA, 
 
 WITH INSTRUCTIONS CONCERNING THE CHOICE, SELECTION 
 
 AND ACTING OF THE PUPPETS. 
 
 / 
 
 BY PROF. W^J. JUDD. 
 
 New York: 
 HAPPY HOUKS COMPANY, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 No. 5 Beekman Street. 
 
 
N<\ 
 
 *\ 
 
 (\ 
 
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1879, by 
 
 HAPPY HOUKS COMPANY, 
 
 in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 
 
LIST OF ENGRAVINGS FROM ORIGINALS 
 
 BY 
 
 GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Portrait of Mr. Punch Frontispiece. 
 
 Behind the Scenes 10 
 
 Punch and his Dog Toby 26 
 
 Punch with his Horse Hector 27 
 
 Judy Beats Punch 32 
 
 The Doctor Physics Mr. Punch 34 
 
 Scaramouch and his Fiddle 49 
 
 Punch and his Pretty Polly 50 
 
 Punch and his Music 52 
 
 Punch teaches Jack Ketch how to hang a man 57 
 
 Punch fights Old Nick 60 
 
 Punch Victorious 61 
 
 OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS NOT BY MR. GEORGE CRUIESHANE. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 The Performance of the Tragedy Title. 
 
 The new Water Scene, and the Sinking Ship 17 
 
 Side view of a large Punch and Judy Theatre 17 
 
 The Spirit of Fun gives the Baby back to Judy , 29 
 
 Mrs. Barrisnobe and the Dutchman , . 38 
 
 The Dutchman and Mary struggle for the bed 47 
 
 The Dutchman sees a Ship 63 
 
 Trial Scene by the Black Judge . . 65 
 
 The Snake swallows Mr. Punch 69 
 
 The Ventriloquial Champions 72 
 
 The Eoyal Marionettes 79 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Introduction, 9 
 
 Chapter I. — Origin of Punch in Italy, ...... 11 
 
 II. — Origin and Progress of Puppet-Plays in England, . . 12 
 
 III. — Antiquity of Punch in America, , 14 
 IV.— On the Construction of the Theatre and the Acting of the 
 Puppets — on the Choice and Selection of Performing 
 
 Figures — on the Management of the Punch Squeaker, 16 
 
 THE TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES OE PUNCH AND JUDY. 
 
 Punch and his Dog Toby, . 25 
 
 Scaramouch with Punch and his Horse, ...... 28 
 
 Punch, Judy and the Baby, 29 
 
 Punch sees a Ghost, 34 
 
 Punch and the Doctor 34 
 
 Punch kills Scaramouch, 36 
 
 The Irishman tells Punch a little story, 36 
 
 Punch and the Opera Singer, 37 
 
 Clown troubles Mr. Punch, . . 37 
 
 The Persecuted Dutchman in Mrs. Barrisnobe's Hotel, ... 38 
 
 Schmidt is waited on by Teddy, Pretty Polly and Mrs. Barrisnobe; he 
 retires to rest, but is disturbed all through the night by strange and 
 uninvited visitors — first by Teddy, who gives him a clubbing, fol- 
 lowed by a Clown, Irishman, the Doctor, Adelina, Captain Blowhard, 
 Police Officer, a Lawyer, a Ghost, Mrs. Barrisnobe, with a final 
 struggle betwixt Mary and the Dutchman, who attempts to carry off 
 the bed 39 
 
CONTENTS. 7 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Scaramouch and his Fiddle, ........ 49 
 
 Punch and his Pretty Polly 50 
 
 Servant orders Punch to Stop his Music 52 
 
 Punch and the Blind Man 54 
 
 Punch and the Constable, . 55 
 
 Punch hangs the Hangman, 57 
 
 Joey and Punch bury Jack Ketch, ....... 59 
 
 Punch Alarmed at the Appearance of the Demon, ..... 60 
 
 Gradually becoming bolder, he fights His Majesty, .... 61 
 
 Punch Victorious, 61 
 
 The Sinking Ship and Storm at Sea, 62 
 
 The Black Judge, 65 
 
 Punch in his famous $25,000 Box Act, ....... 69 
 
 Dialogue for a pair of Ventriloquial Champions, .... 73 
 
 A Young Lady's Conversation, 77 
 
 Price List of Punch and Judy Properties, „ 78 
 
 The Eoyal Marionettes, , . 79 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 With the assistance of information that we have gained, being 
 a practical performer of acknowledged ability, we are about to fill up a 
 hiatus in theatrical history. 
 
 It is singular that, to the present day, save by one author of a val- 
 uable work, now out of print, no other attempt has been made to illus- 
 trate the origin, biography and character of a person so distinguished 
 and notorious as Mr. Puxch. His name and his performances are fa- 
 miliar to all ranks and ages ; yet none have hitherto taken the trouble, 
 in this country or abroad, to make any inquiries regarding himself, 
 his family or connections. The " studious Bayle " is recorded to have 
 repeatedly sallied from his retreat, at the sound of the cracked trum- 
 pet, announcing his arrival m Rotterdam; and we ourselves, who have 
 often hunted our favorite performer froin street to street, saw the late 
 Mr. Windham, then one of the Secretaries of State, on his way from 
 Downing Street to the House of Commons, on a night of important 
 debate, pause like a truant boy until the whole performance was con- 
 cluded, to enjoy a hearty laugh at the whimsicalities of " the motley 
 hero.' But it is needless to particularize. Punch has 
 
 ' ' made our youth to laugh, 
 Until they scarcely could look out for tears;" 
 
 while the old have stood by, " delighted with delight " of others, and 
 themselves, too, enjoying the ludicrous representation. Why the in- 
 terest has hitherto been limited to the period of representation, and 
 whether it has not in part arisen from inability to satisfy it, is not for 
 us to explain. We confine ourselves to an endeavor, in some degree, 
 to supply the deficiency. 
 
 The contrast between the neglect Mr. Punch has experienced, and 
 the industry employed in collecting particulars relating to other per- 
 formers of far less reputation, is remarkable. Nevertheless, it is un- 
 deniable that his fame has spread " without his stirring" over all the 
 
10 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 kingdoms of the civilized world. To use the wordy periphrasis of Dr. 
 Johnson, 
 
 ' ' Let observation, with extensive view, 
 Survey mankind from China to Peru ," 
 
 if it can, and it will everywhere behold Punch dispensing " the luxury 
 of a laugh." It is literally true that some years ago he found his way 
 to Canton; and that since the South American Revolution he has 
 been seen even on the western side of the Andes. He is, perhaps, 
 himself in part to blame for the neglect we have noticed. Several of 
 the principal supporters of our theatres, m our own day, have given 
 their memoirs to the world, either by writing them with their own 
 hands, or by furnishing the materials to others; and the works of this 
 kind by dead actors, " the forgotten of the stage," consist of many 
 volumes. Whether it has arisen from' an absence of that vanity (may 
 we call it ?) which has at times influenced his histrionic rivals, or from 
 a somewhat haughty reluctance on his part to gratify public curiosity, 
 we know not. 
 
ORIGIN OF PUNCH IN ITALY. 11 
 
 CHAPTEE L 
 
 ORIGIN OF PUNCH IN ITALY. 
 
 Mr. Punch (whose original family name was probably Pulcinella) 
 first came into existence at Acerra, an ancient city at a short distance 
 from Naples. The date of this event is differently stated by authors 
 who have incidentally mentioned him, Eiccoboni fixing it before the 
 year 1600, and Gimma and Signorelli after the commencement of the 
 seventeenth century. The words of Gimma are very precise, and as 
 he enters into particulars, it seems safe to rely upon his authority for 
 this important fact. 
 
 The performances, in which the actor was left to his own talents 
 and discretion in furnishing the dialogue, were once extremely popu- 
 lar throughout Italy; but from the very nature of the representation, 
 it unluckily happens that not a single specimen has been handed down 
 to our time. 
 
 However, to pursue this topic would lead us away from the object 
 of our present inquiry. We take it for granted that Silvio Fiorillo 
 invented Pulcinella, and first introduced him as a variety in the list of 
 buffoons required to represent the ''impromptu comedies of Naples: 
 but, although he may date his separate existence from about the year 
 1600, it is a matter of much doubt whether he was not, in fact, only a 
 branch of a family of far greater antiquity. The discovery, in the 
 year 1727, of a bronze statue of a mime, called by the Eomans Maccus, 
 has indeed led some antiquaries to the conclusion that he was, in fact, 
 Pulcinella under a different name, but with the same attributes, and 
 among them a hump-back and a large nose. 
 
 The dress, too, corresponds very much with the motley or parti-col- 
 ored habit of the clowns of our old dramatic poets. It is true that 
 the different hues have been arranged with greater regularity, and the 
 patches are of smaller size. The ordinary habiliments of Punch at the 
 presenirday, preserved by ancient usage, with his pointed fool's-cap, 
 bear a much nearer resemblance; and this is one circumstance that 
 evidences the strong family likeness between the Vice, Harlequin 
 and Puncinella. Eiccoboni represents the ancient Harlequin in a 
 
12 ORIGIN AND PROGRESS OF PUPPET-PLAYS IN ENGLAND. 
 
 dress composed of patches, as if his ragged clothes had been often 
 mended, and Goldoni speaks of him as originally a poor, foolish dolt. 
 
 According to Quadrio, in his " Storia d'ogni Poesia," the name of our 
 hero has relation to the length of his nose: he would spell it Pullicin- 
 ello from Pulhceno, which Mr. Disraeli translates " turkey-cock," an 
 allusion to the beak of that bird. Baretti has it Pulcinella, because 
 that word in Italian means a hen-chicken, whose cry the voice of Punch 
 is said to resemble. Pollicenello, as it has also been written, in its 
 etymology from pollice, " the thumb," goes upon the mistaken presump- 
 tion that his size was always diminutive, like that of our English 
 worthy, of cow-swallowing memory. The French PoncJw has been 
 fancifully derived from no less a personage than Pontius Pilate of the 
 old Mysteries, whom, in barbarous times, the Christians wished to 
 abuse and ridicule. If we cannot settle the disputed point, it is very 
 evident that, in future, ingenuity and learning will be thrown away in 
 attempting further elucidation. 
 
 CHAPTER EL 
 
 ORIGIN AND PROGRESS OF PUPPET-PLAYS IN ENGLAND, 
 
 Before we proceed farther, it will be necessary to consider, briefly, 
 the antiquity and nature of puppet-plays in the old country. It is 
 the more proper to do so, because they form a branch of our drama 
 which has never been examined by the historians of our stage with as 
 much interest and industry as the subject deserves. When we men- 
 tion that no less a man than Dr. Johnson was of opinion that puppets 
 were so capable of representing even the plays of Shakspeare, that 
 Macbeth might be performed by them as well as by living actors, it 
 will be evident from such a fact only, that the inquiry is far from unim- 
 portant. In connection with this opinion, and confirmatory of it, we 
 may add, that a person of the name of Henry Bowe, shortly before 
 the year 1797, did actually, by wooden figures, for a series of years, go 
 through the action of the whole of that tragedy, while he liimself re- 
 peated the dialogue which belongs to each of the characters. 
 
 Puppet-plays are of very ancient date in England; and, if they were 
 not contemporary with our Mysteries^ they probably immediately suc- 
 ceeded them. 
 
 The formidable rivalship of puppet-plays to the regular drama is 
 
AND PROGRESS OF PUPPET-PLAYS IN ENGLAND. 13 
 
 the fact that the proprietors of the theatres in Drury 
 ar Lincoln's Inn Fields, formerly petitioned Charles IL 
 " t-show stationed on the present site of Cecil Street in the 
 pamt not be allowed to exhibit, or might be removed to a 
 vennce, as its attractiveness materially interfered with the 
 wbf their concerns. It is not unlikely that burlesque and 
 spre sometimes aimed at the productions of the regular stage 
 Eibitors of " motions." 
 
 ti show was set up in Covent Garden, opposite to St. Paul's 
 ind the " Spectator " (No. 14) contains the letter of the sex- 
 /complahied that the performances of Punch thinned the con- 
 1 in the church, and that, as Powell exhibited during the time 
 rs, the tolling of the bell was taken, by all who heard it, for 
 ii the intended commencement of the exhibition. The writer 
 iaper then proceeds, in another epistle, to establish that the 
 ( t-show Avas much superior to the opera of " Rinaldo and Armida," 
 jented at the Haymarket, and to observe that " too much en- 
 gement could not be given to Mr. Powell's skill in motions." A 
 jar parallel is drawn between the two, which ends most decidedly 
 7or of Powell in every respect but the inferior point of the moral, 
 om these sources we collect, most distinctly, that the popularity 
 ^unch was completely established, and that he triumphed over all 
 rivals, materially lessening the receipts at least at the Opera, if not 
 ! ;he regular national theatres, and accomplishing at that period, by 
 1 s greater attractiveness, what Dennis, by his " Essay on Operas after 
 I e Italian manner," and other critiques de profession, had been unable 
 1> effect. He could hardly have taken such firm possession of the 
 lublic mind if he had only recently emigrated from his native country. 
 / The late Mr. Joseph Strutt, in his " Sports and Pastimes of the Peo- 
 /ple of England," thus speaks of the puppet-shows in his time: "Li my 
 I memory these shows consisted of a wretched display of wooden figures, 
 | barbarously formed and decorated, without the least degree of taste 
 or propriety: the wires that communicated the motion to them ap- 
 peared at the top of their heads, and the manner in which they were 
 ade to move evinced the ignorance and inattention of the managers, 
 dialogues were mere jumbles of absurdities and nonsense, inter- 
 with low, immoral discourses, passing between Punch and the 
 'the orchestra rarely admitted of more than one minstrel; 
 ifches of merriment were made offensive to decency by the 
 ing ffppet." 
 cause 
 
 the :rij 
 
14 ANTIQUITY OF PUNCH IN AMEKICA. 
 
 From whatever cause the change may have arisen, cei 
 at present, in the ordinary exhibitions of "Punch an\ 
 breaches of decorum complained of by Mr. Strutt are rai\ 
 
 We have never seen less than two men concerned in til 
 tory exhibitions: one to carry the theatre and use Punch' 2 
 and the other to bear the box of puppets and blow the tru\ 
 ing the performance the money is collected from the bysti 
 far from agreeing with Mr. Strutt that the contributions 1 
 trifling," we have seen, for Ave have taken the pains to ascertai 
 four and five shillings obtained at each repetition; so that, ! 
 only ten performances take place in a summer's day, the rew 
 two men, on an average, might be about a sovereign each, 
 occasion Ave remember to have seen three different spectators 
 pence, besides the pennies elsewhere contributed, on which 
 lector went back to the theatre and whispered the exhibitor, v 
 mediately made Punch thus address the crowd: " Ladies and 
 men, I never yet played for sevenpence halfpenny, and I never -\ 
 good-morning." He then " struck his tent" and departed, poc. 
 nearly two shillings, and excusing himself from going through th 
 formance, under pretence that all the contributions he had rec< 
 only amounted to sevenpence halfpenny. 
 
 CHAPTEK ni. 
 
 w 
 
 . 
 
 ANTIQUITY OF PUNCH IN AMEKICA. 
 
 In the preceding chapters we have spoken of the origin, progres 
 and high esteem held for Punch and puppet-plays throughout tli 
 countries of Italy and England; and judging from our own persona 
 experience and actual knowledge, hi still greater favor may Punch b 
 said to hold for himself amongst the fun-loving Americans. Wha 
 children's party is brought to a perfect state of merriment unless 
 the greetings and comicalities of Mr. Punch ? 
 
 Though for a while the tracing of the adventures and travel r 
 Punch throughout this land is lost, yet we have before us r 
 show that his family are of good antiquity, the New Y 
 Feb. 20th, 1739, having the following announcement : 1C _ 
 
 a is 
 
ANTIQUITY OF PUNCH IN AMERICA. 15 
 
 " To-morrow will be performed, in Mr. Holt's long room, the new 
 pantomime entertainment, in grotesque characters, called ' The Ad- 
 ventures of Harlequin and Scaramouch; or, The Spaniard Trick'd,' to 
 which will be added an Optick, wherein will be represented in per- 
 spective several of the most noted cities and remarkable places hi 
 Europe and America, with a new Prologue and Epilogue addressed 
 to the town. To begin precisely at six o'clock. Tickets to be had at 
 Mr. Holt's, at five shillings each." 
 
 Ireland's history of the New York stage preserves the next earliest 
 record of mechanical puppets performed in this country. It refers to 
 the New York Gazeite of August, 1747: 
 
 *' To be seen at the house of Mr. Hamilton Hewetson, at the sign 01 
 the Spread Eagle, near "White Hall slip, Punch's opera, 'Bateman; or, 
 The Unhappy Marriage/ with a fine dialogue between Punch and his 
 wife, Joan, acted by a set of livery figures." 
 
 In August, 1749, the play of " Whittington and his Cat " was an- 
 nounced to be acted in New York city by Punch's company of com- 
 edians, and in the following year the same company, supposed to be 
 mechanical figures, were to have performed the " Norfolk Tragedy; or, 
 The Babes in the Wood," along with " Entertainments of Men and 
 Women." 
 
 Passing on to the time within the memory of the present genera- 
 tion, we find that Mr. Punch came into special favor about the year 
 1866, as may be gathered from the reports in the English newspapers 
 of that time, Manvers and others of England's best Punch and Judy 
 players having left its shores to try their fortunes in America's more 
 favored channels. 
 
 In 1874 the demand for puppets was so great that it became diffi- 
 cult to meet the wants of the many professors that had decided to be- 
 come performers. Notwithstanding the growing number of actors, in 
 the fall of 1876 not one unemployed Punch and Judy performer could 
 be found hi New York city. 
 
 As to the puppet-show of " Punch and Judy," it never is looked at 
 by our people but as a mere joke; and a most effective part of that 
 joke is the ultimate triumph of the hero; without it the representation 
 would be not only " flat and stale," but " unprofitable." We have seen 
 it so, for we remember a showman on one occasion not merely receiv- 
 ing little or no money, but getting lamentably pelted with mud, be- 
 cause, from some scruple or other, he refused to allow the victory over 
 the Devil to Punch. Besides, it may surely deserve consideration, 
 
16 CONSTRUCTION OP THEATRE AND ACTING OF PUPPETS. 
 
 whether, wicked as Punch, unquestionably is, the Devil is not the worse 
 offender of the two, and, consequently, the more deserving of punish- 
 ment. If so, poetical justice is satisfied. 
 
 Recently an American showman has introduced a very famous pop- 
 ular piece as a closing act to the comical tragedies of Mr. Punch, in 
 which our hero, after having gained a victory over the demon, is event- 
 ually himself swallowed up by a great snake. {See the Act for Punch 
 and his great $25,000 Box Trick.) 
 
 ! 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 ON THE CONSTRUCTION OF THE THEATRE AND THE ACTING OF THE PUPPETS. 
 
 Having dwelt at some length on the antiquity and high popularity 
 of Mr. Punch, we will devote the whole of this chapter in explaining 
 to the reader how he may successfully arrange and work the figures, 
 with a description of the frames or Punch and Judy houses in which 
 the performer operates his troupe of puppets. 
 
 Portable frames, complete, ready for use, are advertised by the au- 
 thor in the last pages of this work; yet the reader, if a genius, may 
 save half its cost by constructing for himself the little house. Obtain 
 four pieces of pine, eight feet long, two inches in diameter; let them 
 be planed on the four sides; divide each piece in the centre, and fix 
 thereon an hinge, with a bolt on the opposite side; thus the four 
 eight-feet pillars may be made to fold up to fit into any box or trunk 
 four feet in length. Next cut six cross-pieces, 31 inches long, for the 
 sides, two to be used for the centre, and four for the ends; next get 
 ready five lengths, 36 inches long, to make the cross-pieces for the 
 back and front of the frame, four to be fitted on the four ends, the re- 
 maining one to form the cross-piece on which you screw a flat piece 
 of wood, six inches wide, to form the stage, which we advise to be 
 fixed up about 59 inches from the ground, the whole to be clamped 
 firmly together with twenty-two ordinary iron bolts and nuts. If 
 each joint is mortised, the skeleton structure will have a wonderful 
 degree of strength. To finish, cut a shelf from a ten-inch board, full 
 36 mches long; mortise two of the corners to fit or catch into the two 
 front pillars; this you lay on the two centre cross-pieces, which forms 
 you a snug interior shelf on which you lay all the figures that you use 
 
CONSTRUCTION OF THEATRE AND ACTING OF PUPPETS. 
 
 17 
 
 in the performance. A proscenium, cut out of thick cardboard, and 
 tastefully decorated or painted, should be hung in front of the stage. 
 This, with the calico covering that you wrap around the frame, com- 
 pletes the structure, illustrations of which may be seen on our title- 
 page and next succeeding engraving. 
 
 It is generally known that the writer of this book owns the largest 
 and most complicated Punch and Judy theatre in the world, with its 
 six changes of scenery; and, although its plan of construction has 
 been kept secret, we think that to the readers of this work we ought 
 to convey some idea of its specialties* We therefore not only give 
 a description, but have caused our artist to make engravings of two 
 of its most important parts of construction. The theatre is near ten 
 feet in height, over six feet frontage, and the same distance in its depth 
 to back of stage. Below we give a description of the engraving. 
 
 J, K is a side view of the little theatre; M forms a front view of an interior 
 water scene, which is located towards the back of the stage; the flies, five in 
 number, are painted green, with splashes of white to represent sea-foam; each 
 fly is attached to two small green cords through the holes at N, N; there are two 
 cross-pieces above, that traverse from the stage, front to back;. on these are ten 
 hooks; the green cords are strung on to these hooks; the five flies are then 
 swung into motion, which, to the audience, represents a storm at sea. The shi£> 
 sails along once the whole length; but on its second or third journey it is wrecked; 
 
18 THE CHOICE AND SELECTION OF PERFORMING FIGURES. 
 
 the sails raffle up, and it gradually sinks beneath the waves. When there are 
 two performers concealed in this theatre, the ship is made to meet another vessel 
 (a steamer); the two to collide; one is wrecked, the other sails away safely. 
 These ships are so constructed that they mechanically wreck at the will of the 
 performer. L, L are two of the pillars of the theatre; K is the upper cross-beam, 
 with four wooden pegs projecting out; J is a grooved board about five inches in 
 diameter, with holes bored to correspond with the pegs to fit secure on the cross- 
 beam K; A, B, G, D and E are half-circles, cut out to receive rollers containing 
 the drop scenery; F, F, F, F, F are grooves cut to receive the wings that are 
 placed in front of the drop scenery ; H is the pulley ; I shows section of pulley ; 
 G shows pulley and cord fitted on to the roller at A. The five pulleys should not 
 be more than four inches in diameter. A should be the scene of a prison, B an 
 hotel scene, C the forest, D the Black Hills, and E the background. A front 
 drop scene can also be added, which does not stand located in the engraving. 
 The remaining portion of this theatre is made and bolted together after the plan 
 advised for the smaller frame. The theatre once properly built, each timber must 
 be legibly marked before taken apart, so that the performer may speedily re- 
 build the same when wanted. 
 
 Having thus fully explained how to construct a Punch's theatre, we 
 will now proceed to treat on 
 
 THE CHOICE AND SELECTION OF PERFORMING FIGURES, 
 
 of which there are two classes — the perfectly made and the imperfect. 
 The latter, which are chiefly importations from foreign countries, should 
 be studiously avoided by the performer. They may be distinguished 
 from the properly made puppets by their cramping the hand, their 
 shortness of dress bringing into special notice the arms of the per- 
 former as he attempts to manipulate them above the stage. The desir- 
 able genuine-made figures can only be safely secured by ordering them 
 from a dealer or maker that is himself, also, a Punch and Judy player. 
 A, bona fide performer, of course, knows just how they ought to be 
 made, and prides himself on their perfectness, improvements and ad- 
 vantages over those of the toy importers that deal in the inductions 
 of novices, made for them at the cheapest rates; hence the reducing 
 of t]iose essential parts of the dress that are of special advantage to 
 the performer. We draw the reader's attention to the address of the 
 dealer whose card will be found in the last pages of this book, and who 
 will supply you with correctly made figures, and has every appurte- 
 nance and stage-requisite treated on in this work. 
 
 An operator can give a very fair show with an outfit of eight figures, 
 to which, from time to time, he should add others, until he has a 
 complete set, which are to be arranged on the inner shelf in his frame 
 in the following order : 
 
THE CHOICE AND SELECTION OF PERFORMING FIGURES. 19 
 
 Under his left hand, at the end of shelf, he lays the Snake Demon 
 and Little Dog; next to them the Sheriff, Doctor, Ghost, Negro, Negress, 
 Judy; on his right or other end Punch, Scaramouch, Dutchman, 
 Irishman, and Pretty Polly; over these he rests Dog Toby and Punch's 
 Baby in readiness for the opening acts. Amongst the figures he 
 should have a bell, the gallows, and three clubs, as sticks for Mr. 
 Punch. The box trick, coffin, and other stage properties should lie 
 on the ground near the performer's feet. TVhere there is but one 
 player to work the show, remember to put a stick in the hole of Mr. 
 Punch's head, and in several of the others. This greatly assists the 
 performer, and enables him to catch the figures up much quicker, and 
 prevents Mr. Punch from dropping down his head, as if weary. 
 "Whilst one figure is up to view above the stage, the operator may 
 quickly adjust another figure by holding .its head betwixt his chin 
 and breast, whilst he plants his hand beneath its dress. 
 
 The performer should educate himself to playing the acts both single- 
 handed, and also with the help of an assistant. "Where convenient for two 
 performers to be inside the frame, the show, of course, can be gotten up 
 on a much more grand and extensive scale. Punch is always held 
 in the performer's right hand, and is always to be the hero in the trage- 
 dies, and the most lively of all the puppets, and operated by the best 
 man of the two performers. The assistant player puts up a third fig- 
 ure at some window or side comer to poke fun at Mr. Punch, and also 
 is a useful help by interesting the company at any gap in the perform- 
 ance caused by the leading performer fixing his puppets ready for the 
 successive acts. The players must remember to give to each figure 
 genuine life-like motions, convey the impressive idea by shaking the 
 head or arms of each figure in turn, as they converse one with the 
 other. This advice is of special importance, and should be observed 
 by the players. On no account should Mr. Punch be allowed to re- 
 main motionless, dull or stupid, with nothing to say or do. He is. ever 
 to be the gayest of the gay, king and conqueror of all before hiim 
 Once in view above the stage before the company, whilst waiting for 
 an act to commence or for a figure to come up, he thumps his club 
 down on the stage, throws it at the showman outside, dances, or: sings 
 a verse of a song. After a figure has entered and announced " to Mr. 
 Punch that he has a fine horse for Mr. Punch to ride on, Punch shows 
 his pleasure by running from end to end of the stage, to the company 
 appearing to enjoy taking note of every effort that is. being made.' to> 
 
20 ON THE MANAGEMENT OF THE SQUEAKER. 
 
 bring the horse in. Hector enters; the comical results relating there- 
 to are illustrated and described in the dialogue for Act 1 
 
 ON THE MANAGEMENT OF THE SQUEAKER. 
 
 Some writers have raised objections to the use of the instrument 
 called the Punch and Judy Squeaker, on account of the greater diffi- 
 culty in articulating the words used by Mr. Punch. From the earliest 
 times within the reach of our memory the familiar squeak of Mr. Punch 
 has always greeted our ear. We therefore say by all means let it so con- 
 tinue. A little practice will soon enable you to articulate the sound of 
 words intelligibly, and until you are proficient in its use, the answer of 
 the other figure will convey the meaning. Thus, Punch, in his squeaking 
 voice, asks for the baby. Judy answers, " Oh, Mr. Punch, you want the 
 baby, do you ? "Well, I'm afraid it's asleep, but I'll go and see." Let 
 the squeaker be (a good one) placed on the centre of the tongue, held 
 close to the roof of the mouth and the words spoken through it. It will 
 readily rest itself on the tongue when the answering voice is made. 
 The best squeakers are mad« of silver; they are fully four times thicker 
 in substance than those that are made of tin or zinc, hence they cannot 
 so easily be crushed up, and only require rebinding with tape about 
 once every year. A second squeaker should also be in the performer's 
 vest pocket for instant readiness in case squeaker No. 1 should be 
 dropped out of the performer's mouth. 
 
 Having instructed the reader how to build a theatre, and traced the 
 history, with the character and deportment, of Mr. Punch, we shall 
 now proceed to place his performances upon record. It is time to do 
 so for the benefit of posterity; lest, as society gradually acquires a 
 more superfine polish than it even now possesses, it should be im- 
 possible, hereafter, to print what is fortunately yet considered inno- 
 cent and harmless. Addison tells us that " the merry people of the 
 world are the amiable," and in the language of " a man forbid," we ad- 
 dress ourselves to those, 
 
 "Chi amano, senza Bmorfia e ipocrisia 
 Gl' innocent! piaceri e 1' allegria." 
 
THE 
 
 TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 OP 
 
 PUNCH AND JUDY. 
 
PEEFACE 
 
 Portions of the following drama are founded upon the performances 
 of an old Italian Punch and Judy performer of the name of Piccini, 
 who has perambulated the towns and country hamlets of England for 
 the last forty or fifty years. Like the representations of our early 
 stage, it was not by him distinguished into acts and scenes, but the 
 divisions were easily made. The writer is a professional player of 
 Punch and Judy, and now gives the public, in this book, not only the 
 Italian Piccini's earlier introduction, but the records of his own expe- 
 rience, with gleanings from that of other first-class players. The 
 whole now assumes a shape in which it may rival most of the theatri- 
 cal productions of the present era, whether by Poole, popular for his 
 " Paul Pry," Peake for his puns, Planche for his poetry, Peacock for 
 his parodies or Payne for his plagiarisms. 
 
 Piccini lived in the classical ricinity of the West End of London, and 
 up to the time that ourselves left England (in 1869) was still travelling, 
 considering it "no sin to labor in his vocation." He is thus described 
 by a writer in a discontinued periodical called the Literary Speculum, 
 which we quote because it is the only printed notice we have seen of 
 an individual so generally known. It is to be observed that the article 
 to which we are indebted was published many years ago, and the 
 author of it speaks of his own youth, when Piccini's age was " as a lusty 
 winter, frosty but kindly," and before " time, the old clock-setter," had 
 nearly let him run the whole length of his chain without winding him 
 up again. " He (Piccini) was an Italian; a little thick-set man, with a 
 red, humorous-looking countenance. He had lost one eye, but the 
 other made up for the absence of i£s fellow by a shrewdness of ex- 
 pression sufficient for both. He always wore an oil-skin hat and a 
 rough great-coat. At his back he carried a deal box, containing the 
 dramatis persona? of his little theatre, and in his hand the trumpet at 
 whose glad summons hundreds of merry, laughter-loving faces flocked 
 round him, with gaping mouths and anxious looks, all eager to renew 
 
24 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 their acquaintance with their old friend and favorite, Punch. The 
 theatre itself was carried by a tall man, who seemed a sort of sleeping 
 partner in the concern, or mere dumbivaiter on the other's operations." 
 The woodcut on our title-page precisely corresponds with this lively 
 description, making some allowance for the difference of age in the 
 master of the puppet-show; still, however, not too old to carry his 
 deal box and to blow an "inspiring air." 
 
 There is one peculiarity about Piccini's puppets which deserves no- 
 tice : they were much better carved, the features having a more marked 
 and comic expression than those of his rivals. He brought most of 
 them over with him from Italy, and he complained that in England he 
 had not been able to find any workman capable of adequately supply- 
 ing the loss if by chance one of his figures had been broken or stolen. 
 Why his Punch was made to squint, or, at least, to have what is known 
 by the epithet of a swivel-eye, unless for the sake of humor or distinc- 
 tion, does not appear. 
 
 Besides Piccini's representation, we have compared the following 
 pages with, and corrected them and made additions according to, the 
 text of our professional performances and the exhibitions of other 
 perambulatory artistes (as our neighbors term them) now flourishing. 
 
 The reader's attention should be specially directed to the acting 
 drama of the Persecuted Dutchman, in Mrs. Barrisnobes Hotel, and to 
 Punch's famous $25,000 Box Trick. 
 
THE 
 
 TRAGICAL A^x3, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 OF 
 
 PUNCH AND JUDY, 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 Scene. — The Forest. 
 
 Showman {outside, calling out). Now, Mr. Punch, I w r ant you to show 
 yourself. 
 
 Punch {within). All right; let me put my boot on. 
 
 Showman. Your boot on — hurry up. 
 Enter Punch. After a few preliminary squeaks, he bows three times to the 
 
 spectators — once in the centre and once at each side of the stage, and then 
 
 vigorously beats tlie stage with his club. 
 
 Enter Scaramouch. 
 
 Scara. Hollo, Mr. Punch, what is all this noise about ? 
 Punch. Who are you ? 
 
 Scara. I want to know what you've done w r ith my dog Toby. 
 Punch. Your dog? 
 Scara. Yes. 
 
 Punch. I know nothing about him. 
 
 Scara That won't do, Mr. Punch. You were seen going round 
 Gretna Square with him last night, and I want that dog. 
 Punch. You are a cure, {beats his stick on the stage.) 
 
26 
 
 THE TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 Scara. You call me a cure; that won't do, Mr. Punch. 
 
 Punch {dancing around). Yes, you are, you are. 
 
 Scara. Now, Mr. Punch, that is too bad for you to call me a cure, 
 when here I am thought handsome, and am engaged to be married to 
 Miss Jennie L early next week. 
 
 Punch. I don't believe it. 
 
 Scara. Yes, yes, it is true, and Bella's to be at the wedding, too; but 
 what, Mr. Punch, have you done with my dog ? 
 
 Punch. 1 told you that I knew nothing about him. {he knocks Scar- 
 amouch down-daws with a blow of his club.) 
 
 Enter Dog Toby. 
 
 Toby. Bow, wow, wow! 
 
 Punch. How do, my good friend, your master, Mr. Toby ? How do, 
 Mr. Scaramouch? 
 
 Toby. Bow, wow, wow ! 
 
 Punch. I'm glad to hear it. Poor Toby ! What a nice, good-tem- 
 pered dog it is ! No wonder his master is so fond of him. 
 
OF PUNCH AND JUDY. 
 
 27 
 
 Toby (snarls). Arr! Arr! 
 
 Punch. "What ! Toby ! you cross this morning ? You got out of bed 
 the wrong way upwards ? 
 
 Toby (snarls again). Arr! Arr! 
 
 Punch. Poor Toby! (putting his hand out cautiously, and trying tc 
 coax the dog, who snaps at it) Toby, you're one nasty, cross dog; gei 
 away with you ! (strikes at him.) 
 
 Toby. Bow, wow, wow ! (seizing Punch by the nose.) 
 
 Punch. Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! My nose ! my poor nose, my beautiful 
 nose ! Get away ! get away, you nasty dog — I tell your master. Oh, 
 dear, dear! Judy! Judy! 
 
 (Punch shakes his nose, but cannot shake off the Dog, who follows him as 
 he retreats around the stage. Me continues to call, " Judy ! Judy, my 
 dear!" until the Dog quits his hold, and exit.) 
 Punch (solus, and rubbing his nose with both hands). Oh, my nose ! 
 
 my pretty little nose ! You nasty, nasty brute, I will tell you master 
 
 of you. 
 
28 
 
 THE TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 Re-enter Scaramouch. 
 
 Scara. Ah, ah ! Mr. Punch, you got the worst of it. My dog got 
 hold of your nose. Ah, ah ! (Punch, mad at being made fun of, aims a 
 blow at Scaramouch, but misses; he, quickly disappearing, pops up again, 
 saying : "Never mind, Mr. Punch, I'll fetch up a fine horse for you." 
 (Punch commences to dance about in high glee. Scaramouch below 
 stamps his feet, calling out : "Wo, ho, my Hector ! this way, my Hector." 
 Punch continues his dance, then attempts to mount his Hector by the 
 tai. Horse gallops away, Punch in pursuit.) 
 
 Re-enter Punch, leading his horse by the bridle over his arm. It prances 
 about, and seems very unruly. 
 
 Punch. "Wo, ho, my fine fellow ! Wo, ho, Hector ! Stand still, can't 
 you, and let me get my foot up to the stirrup. 
 
 ( While Punch is trying to mount, the horse runs away round the stage, 
 and Punch sets off after him, catches him by the tail, and so stops him. 
 Punch then mounts by sitting on the front of the stage, and, with both 
 his hands, lifting one of his legs over the animal's back. At first it goes 
 pretty steadily, but soon quickens its pace, while Punch, who does not 
 keep his seat very well, cries : " Wo, ho, Hector ! Wo, ho !" but to no 
 purpose, for the horse sets off at full gallop, jerking Punch at every 
 stride with great violence. Punch lays hold around the neck, but is ulti- 
 mately thrown upon the platform.) 
 
OF PUNCH AND JUDY. 
 
 29 
 
 ACT II 
 
 Scene. — Interior of an Hotel. 
 
 Punch. Judy ! Judy, my dear ! Judy, my dear, can't you answer, 
 my dear? 
 
 Judy (within). Well, what do you want, Mr. Punch? 
 
 Punch. Come up-stairs; I want you. 
 
 Judy. Then want must be your master — I'm busy. 
 
 Punch. Judy, my dear ! Judy, my love ! Pretty Judy, come up- 
 stairs. 
 
 Enter Judy. 
 
 Judy. Well, here I am. What do you want, now I'm come ? 
 Punch (aside). "What a pretty creature ! An't she a beauty? 
 Judy. What do you want, I say ? 
 
 Punch. A kiss; a pretty kiss! (kisses her, while she hits him a slap on 
 the face.) 
 
30 THE TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 Judy. Take that, then. How do you like my kisses ? Will you 
 have another? 
 
 Punch. No; one at a time, one at a time, my sweet pretty wife! 
 (aside) She always is so playful. Where's the child ? Fetch me the 
 baby, Judy, my dear. 
 
 Judy. The baby ? I'm afraid that she is asleep— I'll go down and 
 see. [JExit Judy. 
 
 Punch (solus). There's a wife for you ! What a precious, darling 
 creature I She go to fetch our baby. 
 
 Re-enter Judy with the Baby. 
 
 Judy. Here's the child. Pretty dear ! Take the baby. 
 
 Punch (holding out his hands). Give it me— pretty little thing ! How 
 like its sweet mamma! 
 
 Judy. How awkward you are ! 
 
 Punch. Give it me; I know how to nurse it as well as you do. (she 
 gives it him) Get away ! (Exit Judy. Punch, nursing the Child in his 
 arms) What a pretty baby it is ! was it sleepy then ? Hush-a-by, by, 
 by. (sings to the tune of " Best thee, Babe") 
 
 Oh, rest thee, my baby, 
 
 Thy daddy is here; 
 Thy mammy's a gaby, 
 
 And that's very clear. 
 
 Oh, rest thee, my darling, 
 
 Thy mother will come, 
 With a voice like a starling;— 
 
 I wish she was dumb ! 
 
 Poor, dear little thing ! it cannot get to sleep. By, by; by, by, hush-a- 
 by. Well, then, it shan't, (dances the Child, and then sets it on his lap, 
 between his knees, and sings the common nursery ditty) 
 
 Dancy, baby, diddy; 
 
 "What shall daddy do widdy? 
 
 Sit on his lap, 
 
 Give it some pap — 
 Dancy, baby, diddy. 
 
 (After nursing it upon his lap, Punch sticks the Child against the side of 
 the stage, on the platform, and going himself to the opposite side, runs up 
 to it, clapping his hands and crying, " Catchee, catchee, catchee I" He 
 then takes it up again, and it begins to cry.) 
 
 What is the matter with it ? Poor thing I it has got the stomaoh-ache, 
 
OF PUNCH AND JUDY. 
 
 31 
 
 I dare say. (Child cries) Hush-a-by, hush-a-by! (sitting down, and 
 rolling it on his knees) Naughty child ! Judy, (calling) the child has 
 got the stomach-ache. Judy, I say! (Child continues to cry) Keep 
 quiet, can't you ? (hits it a spank) I won't keep such a naughty child. 
 Hold your tongue ! (strikes the Child's head several times again* t the side 
 of the stage) There — there— there ! How do you like that? I thought 
 I'd stop your squalling. Get along with you, naughty, crying child ! 
 (throws it over (lie front of the stage among the spectators) He, he, he! 
 (laughing and singing to the same tune as before) 
 
 Get away, naughty baby ; 
 
 There it goes over. 
 Thy mammy's a gaby, 
 
 Thy daddy's a rover. 
 
 Re-enter Judy. 
 
 Judy. Where is the baby ? 
 
 Punch. Gone — gone to sleep. 
 
 Judy. "What have you done with the child, I say ? 
 
 Punch. Gone to sleep, I say. 
 
 Judy. What have you done with it ? 
 
32 
 
 THE TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 Punch. What have I done with it ? 
 
 Judy. Aye; done with it ! I heard it crying just now. Where is it ? 
 
 Punch. How should I know ? 
 
 Judy. I heard you make the pretty darling cry. 
 
 Punch. I dropped it out at window. 
 
 Judy. Oh, you cruel, horrid wretch, to drop the pretty baby out at 
 window. Oh, (cries, and wipes her eyes) you barbarous man ! Oh, I'll 
 make you pay for this, depend upon it. [ Exit in haste. 
 
 Punch. There she goes. What a piece of work about nothing! 
 (dances about and sings, beating time with his head, as he turns round, on 
 the front of the stage.) 
 
 He-enter Judy with a stick ; she comes in behind, and hits Punch a sound- 
 ing blow on the back of the head before he is aware. 
 
 Judy. I'll teach you to drop my child out at window. 
 
 Punch. So — o — oftly, Judy, so- — o — oftly! (rubbing the back of his 
 head with his hand) Don't be a fool now. What you at ? 
 
 Judy. WTaat ! you'll drop my poor baby out at window again, will 
 you? (hitting him continually on the head.) 
 
OF PUNCH AND JUDY. 
 
 33 
 
 Punch. No; I never will again, (she still hits him) Softly, I say, 
 softly. A joke's a joke. 
 
 Judy. Oh, you cruel brute ! (hitting him again) I'll teach you. 
 
 Punch. But me no like such teaching. What ! you're in earnest, 
 are you ? 
 
 Judy. Yes, (hit) I (hit) am. (hit.) 
 
 Punch. I'm glad of it; me no like such jokes, (she hits him again) 
 Leave off, I say. "What ! you won't, won't you ? 
 
 Judy. No, I won't, (hits him.) 
 
 Punch. Very well, then, now come my turn to teach you. (he 
 matches at, and struggles ivith her for the stick, which he wrenches from 
 her and strikes her ivith it on the head, while she runs about to different 
 parts of the stage to get out of his way) How you like my teaching, Judy, 
 my pretty dear ? (hitting her.) 
 
 Judy. O, pray, Mr. Punch — no more ! 
 
 Punch. Yes; one little more lesson, (hits her again) There, there, 
 there ! (she falls down, with her head over the platform of the stage ; and 
 as he continues to hit at her she puts up her hand to guard her head) Any 
 more? 
 
 Judy. No, no; no more, {lifting up her head.) 
 
 Punch (knocking down her head). I thought I should soon make 
 you quiet. 
 
 Judy (again raiding her head). No. 
 
 Punch (again knocking it down, and following up his blows until she is 
 lifeless). Now, if you're satisfied, I am. (perceiving that she does not move) 
 There, get up, Judy, my dear; I won't hit you any more. None of 
 your shamming. This is only , your fun. You got the headache ? 
 Why, you only asleep. Get up, I say ! Well, then, get down, (losses 
 the body down ivith the end of his slick.) 
 
 Showman (outside). Oh, Mr. Punch, what have you done? YoulwHI. 
 have a ghost after you now. 
 
 Punch. I don't care. 
 
 Showman. You don't care ? 
 
 Punch. No; I've seen five ghosts. 
 
 Showman. Five ghosts! What would you say were you to see: one 
 now? 
 
 Punch. I'd knock him down. 
 
 Enter Ghost, which rises at back of the stage,, steuM,ily advancing; tbu the 
 
 front. 
 Showman. Well, there is one coming wxw r Ibak tbc your leffc 
 
34 
 
 THE TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 Punch (looking right round the corner of the stage). Here? 
 
 Showman. No; the other way. 
 
 Punch (looks every way but the right direction; he at last sees the Ghost; 
 he trembles, saying). Oh, dear! oh, dear! I've seen a ghost, ghost, 
 ghost ! [Exit Ghost. 
 
 Showman. What is the matter, Mr. Punch ? 
 
 Punch. I'm sick ! I'm sick ! I've seen a ghost, (he lies down on the 
 zlage.) 
 
 Showman. Well, call the doctor. 
 
 Punch. Doctor ! Doctoi ! 
 
 Enter the Doctor. 
 Doctor. Who is that calling the doctor? 
 Punch. It is me. 
 
 Doctor. WTiere are you hurt? Is it here ? (touching his head.) 
 ^Punch. No; lower. 
 ."Doctor. Here ? ^touching his breast.) 
 Punch. No;; lower, lower ! 
 Doctor. Here, then? {going downwards.) 
 
OF PUNCH AND JUDY. 35 
 
 Punch. No; lower still. 
 
 Doctoe. Then is your handsome leg broken ? 
 
 Punch. No; higher. 
 
 (As the Doctor leans over Punch's legs to examine them, Punch hits him 
 in the eye.) 
 
 Doctor. Oh, my eye ! my eye ! 
 
 Punch. Aye, you're right enough; it is my eye, and Betty Martin, 
 too. 
 
 Doctor. Let me feel your pulse, Mr. Punch. 
 
 Punch (wriggling his body as he lies, says). Oh, dear! so sick! so 
 sick! 
 
 Doctor (feeling Punch's p>ulse). Why, Mr. Punch, you are all right; 
 forty-five to the minute. 
 
 Punch. Oh, no ! I'm dead ! I'm killed ! 
 
 Doctor. That won't do, Mr. Punch; dead men don't talk. 
 
 Punch (jumping up icith a lively gait). Ah ! that is so. 
 
 Doctor. Then, Mr. Punch, since you are not dead, pay me nry fee 
 and let me go. 
 
 Punch. Your fee ? 
 
 Doctor. Yes, my fee. 
 
 Punch. How much ? 
 
 Doctor. Five dollars. 
 
 Punch. Five dollars ! Five dollars ! Well, I've not got it. 
 
 Doctor. Well, then, go down and get it. 
 
 Punch. Ah ! that is so ! I'll just go down and bring up the money. 
 
 [Exit. 
 He-enter Punch, with a stick 
 
 Punch. Five dollars ? 
 
 Doctor. Yes, and little enough, too. 
 
 Punch (hitting the Doctor on the head). One, two, "three ! 
 
 Doctor. Oh ! golly, golly, Mr. Punch, what are you about? 
 
 Punch. Four, five, six dollars — one for good measure. 
 
 ( The Doctor falls lifeless on left-hand of the stage, and is left lying to 
 count up in the next act.) 
 
 Enter Scaramouch. 
 
 Scara. Ah, ah ! Mr. Punch, I've found you out That's the way you 
 killed my pool dog, is it? 
 
36 THE TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 Punch (striking him on the head). Yes; just so. 
 
 (Scaramouch falls dead beside the Doctor. Punch counts tliem up, "One, 
 two.") 
 
 Enter Irishman. 
 
 Irish. Hey day, Mr. Punch, I'm glad to see you. (he shakes hands.) 
 
 Punch. Ah, ah ! Paddy, you look merry this morning. What brings 
 you this way? 
 
 Irish. Only a little on the spree, and I'm going to tell you a little 
 story. 
 
 Punch. Well, go ahead. 
 
 Irish. The other day, Mr. Punch, as I was going through the forest, 
 I met little Sammy Slick. He had in his hand a pretty little likeness 
 of his wife. He kissed it o'er and o'er. " Just like her," says he. 
 
 Punch. Just like who? / 
 
 Irish. Why, just like his wife. 
 
 Punch. Ah! just so. (he gives a dunce, then listens.) 
 
 Irish. Well, on comes his wife, and says: "Did it kiss j'ou back, my 
 dear?" "No," says he. "Then," saith his wife, "how can it be like 
 me?" (Irishman commences to dance, singing) I'm o'er young to many 
 yet, to marry yet, to 
 
 Punch (hitting him a terrific blow with his stick says). So I think — you 
 are o'er young to marry yet. (he counts the dead bodies up) One, two 
 and three. 
 
 Enter Negress. 
 
 Negress. Oh, Mr. Punch, I've been looking for you. 
 
 Punch. Well, my Julia, what can I do for you? 
 
 Negress. I want you, Mr. Punch, to introduce me to the proprietor 
 of this show. 
 
 Punch. Well, Miss Julia, I'm the proprietor. What do you wish ? 
 
 Negress. WTiat! Are you the proprietor? 
 
 Punch. Yes, I am. 
 
 Negress. Mr. Punch, I'm an opera singer, and I want to sing to the 
 ladies and gentlemen here assembled. 
 
 Punch. You an uproar singer ? 
 
 Negress. No, an opera. 
 
 Punch. Yes; I said an uproar singer. 
 
 Negress. Opera. 
 
 Punch. Yes, yes, an uproar. 
 
OF PUNCH AND JUDY. 37 
 
 Negress. Well, then, an uproar, if you will have it so. 
 
 Punch. Well, what are you going to sing? 
 
 Negress. Well, I can sing politics, sentimental, or on love. 
 
 Punch. Then let's have it on love. 
 
 Negress (sings). 
 
 Two lovers wandering in a wood — 
 What can be more delightful ? 
 Just as they whisper, "Be my own," 
 Should some one overhear them, 
 Can mortal be more spiteful ? 
 
 Two, not three, are company — 
 
 This proverb pray remember. 
 
 Punch (strikes her down ivith a blow from his stick, and says). If that 
 is uproar singing, we will have no more of that, (he counts the bodies up) 
 One, two, three and four. 
 
 (Punch, susjiecting tlvere to be life in some of the bodies, carries them, one at 
 a time, to the right-hand side of the stage. After he has arranged two 
 bodies, and is going for the third, a Clown walks up from behind and 
 carries back one of the bodies; he also lies down as if dead. Punch, 
 missing the body, seems nonplussed, Makes some remark, then fetches 
 another. The Clown, unperceived by Punch, repeats his fun. Punch 
 is dismayed. Returns to the left of the stage and asks the bodies : " Are 
 you all dead?" and, ivhilst Punch is looking towards the right, the 
 Clown, jolting up hi* head, says: "Yes; all dead." Punch, touching a 
 body, says: "Was that you?" He goes down for his club. Clown 
 shifts one to the centre of the stage. Punch, returning, belabors it with 
 his club, says: " Oh! it is you, is it?" — hit, hit — "You will be dead this 
 time, I think." Hit, hit, and places it on the right of tlie stage. He now 
 discovers the Clown at his antics. Punch makes for him ; stands him 
 up against the left pillar of the stage; makes thrusts at him with the end 
 of his club, counting, "One, two, three — e — e ;" but every time the 
 three is pronounced the Clown falls fat down, causing Punch to miss 
 his mark. Punch says, "I'll fix you now." He spits against the post 
 of the stage, aud rubs the Clown against it. He counts, "One, two, 
 three — e — e." This time pins the Clown to the post; but the moment 
 the end of Punch's club is removed, the Clown darts away, giving Punch 
 a lively knock on the back of the head — makes after to run off with some 
 of the bodies, and betwixt the Clown and Punch the stage is soon cleared.) 
 
 end oe part n. 
 
38 
 
 THE TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 The performer, when engaged at Church Fairs to give his represen- 
 tations before successive audiences, holds up the negro to make the 
 following announcement: "Ladies and Gentlemen: The last act con- 
 cludes the show. Our next performance will take place in the coursa 
 of fifteen minutes, during which we shall have the honor of introduc- 
 ing the famous act of 
 
 THE PEBSECTTTED DUTCHMAN, 
 
 IK 
 
 MBS. BABRISNOBE'S HOTEL. 
 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 Enter Schmidt, carrying carpet-bag. 
 
 Schmidt. I vonder vether I can find a place vere I can sleep to- 
 night. Here is an hotel. I will just ring the bell, (he sets carpet-hag 
 on stage and rings the bell.) 
 
OF PUNCH AND JUDY. 39 
 
 Teddy (pokes his head through the window, says). I say, you there, 
 what are you doing ringing dat bell all this time for ? 
 
 Schmidt. What, you old black nigger, come at last ? 
 
 Teddy. How dare you insult ? Call me no nigger. I'm de colored 
 man from de South; and what do you want, I say? 
 
 Schmidt. Yaw ! What you want with yat black face through dat 
 window ? Come right out here ; I vant to talk business. 
 
 Teddy. Who are you calling black ? "Who rang dat bell ? 
 
 Schmidt. I've walked von thirty-five mile this day, and I want von 
 place to sleep down on. 
 
 Teddy. One place to sleep ? 
 
 Schmidt. Yaw. Who keeps this hotel ? 
 
 Teddy. My mistress, sar— Mrs. Barrisnobe. 
 
 Schmidt. Then call that old basket up. 
 
 Teddy. She is neither old nor a basket, sar. 
 
 Schmidt. Yaw! Yell, basket or no basket, call the old woman up. 
 
 Teddy. WTiat might your name be, sir ? 
 
 Schmidt. I am John Schmidt. 
 
 Teddy. I thought John Smith was dead. 
 
 Schmidt. No humbug ! I am te original John Schmidt. 
 
 Teddy. "Well, Mr. Smith, I want my parquisites. (goes to take carpet- 
 bag.) 
 
 Schmidt. You can't steal mine garpet-bags. 
 
 Teddy. Ye's lying — under a mistake. 
 
 Schmidt. You tell me I'm he, I vill blow your nose off. (squares 
 himself, puts down carpet-bag, Teddy takes it up — Schmidt scuffles with him 
 — Teddy trips him — he falls on stage with carpet-bag in his arms) Oh, 
 mine bump ! If mine vrow have seen you chip up mine heels von top 
 tis floor, un bang mine bump, she would give you fury. I will have 
 te constobber to take you mit te bost-ofTice. (Teddy helps him up.) 
 
 Teddy. I hope you're not hurt, sir. You're mistaken; I'm the ser- 
 vant, (brushes him off) I beg your pardon, sir. 
 
 Schmidt (l.). You begs mine bardon. Yell, I don't care. Der ish 
 mine hand. I am John Schmidt, von ter firm of Schmidt, Yondunder, 
 Kelt un Co., boot un shoes tread finters, un nunder tinks. 
 
 Teddy. I'm here, sir, waiting yer orders. What'll ye have, Mr. John 
 Smith? 
 
 Schmidt. I van some lager pier un spretsel — von leetle glass dat ish 
 not as much as tri cent 
 
40 THE TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 Teddy. A little glass, Mr. Smith ! You have mouth enough to swal- 
 low a hogshead. [Exit Teddy, r. 
 
 Schmidt. Dat ish funny fellow. He drips up mine heels, un den he 
 pegs mine bardon; un ven I ask him for tri cent glass lager bier, he 
 say mine mouth is pig as hogshead mouth. Ven I vash leetle poy, as 
 no pigger ash dot, ter gals say tat mine mouth ish burty, un mine frow 
 say tat mine mouth ish burty, un by dinks I dinks so, too. 
 
 Enter Mrs. Barrisnobe, with bier, r. 
 
 Mrs. B. Your bier, sir. 
 
 Schmidt. Vot vilst du haben vor tat? 
 
 Mrs. B. Three cents, sir. 
 
 Schmidt. Yaw! Ter ish five cent — I will haben two cent change. 
 
 Mrs. B. Very well, sir ; I will send the change. 
 
 Schmidt. Landlady, have you got von leetle bit onion tat ish not- 
 inks, un tat you will give to me mitout any charges? 
 
 Mrs. B. Well, that certainly is meanness. I'll see sir, and send the 
 change. 
 
 Schmidt. Landlady, I have gone to sleepen, till to-morrow morning. 
 Vot you ask for un bed? 
 
 Mrs. B. Four dollars. 
 
 Schmidt. Four dollars! my Got un hemmel! Why, I gets un bed 
 in Chatham Street, New York, for swelve un a half cent. 
 
 Mrs. B. You will remember, sir, you are not in New York ; and 
 if you obtain a bed here, four dollars will be the charge. 
 
 Schmidt. Landlady, I don't mean ter bed ; I only vant sometinks 
 to lay down mit, un shut mine eyes open — sometinks dat cost not ash 
 moch ash fifty cent. 
 
 Mrs. B. There is a room next to my own, which is not occupied, 
 you can have for four dollars. I'll send your change immediately. 
 
 Schmidt. Landlady — two cent change. 
 
 Mrs. B. I remember — two cents. That is the meanest man I ever 
 saw. [Exit, r. 
 
 Schmidt. Four dollar for one ped ! Tat ish enough to set up von 
 saving bank, un many saving bank hash got not ash moch as dat. 
 
 Enter Pretty Polly with onion, r., she holds it out to him at arm's length. 
 
 Polly. Here is your onion. 
 
 Schmidt. Tat ish nice leetle gal. I have got un boy tat ish un gal — 
 she ish 'pout your age, if she ish older ash you. 
 
OF PUNCH AND JUDY. 41 
 
 Polly. Why, sir, I am not a little girl — I am nineteen. 
 
 Schmidt. Never mind; you are nice, good gal, un wen I goes away 
 I will make you un present. 
 
 Polly. Make me a present, sir ? — what ? 
 
 Schmidt. Yaw — of a kiss. 
 
 Polly. Thank you, sir; we ask double for that. 
 
 Schmidt. "Well, I won't take some. [Goes up. 
 
 Polly. He's a brute, and has no taste for luxuries. [Flounces out. 
 
 Schmidt (at table). Tat was a burty leetle gal, un if she hadn't 
 charges so moch, I would make her von present mit a kiss before I go. 
 Tis onion ish ash strong dat if you but him on top tis table for five 
 minutes, he jumps all round so moch ash like ter spirit-knockers. 
 
 Enter Mrs. Barrisnobe and Teddy carrying bedstead, which they fix in 
 position by adjusting the side posts in the two holes sunk in stage. 
 
 Mrs. B. Now, Teddy, have you fixed it up nice for the gentleman ? 
 
 Teddy. Yes, ma'am. 
 
 Mrs. B. Then you can go. [Exit. 
 
 Schmidt. Is this my bedroom ? 
 
 Mrs. B. Yes, and you can sleep on that bed for four dollars. 
 
 Schmidt. That bed? Why, where is the bed? 
 
 Mrs. B. (looking over the head-board). Lor, that is so. Teddy, Teddy! 
 
 Enter Teddy. 
 
 Teddy. Yes, ma'am. 
 
 Mrs. B. Why, Teddy, Teddy, you never brought up the feather-bed. 
 
 Teddy (with surprise). Lor, sure, where was my head ? [Exit. 
 
 Mrs. B. Teddy, have you brought the pillow ? 
 
 Teddy. Yes, ma'am; all here, (he throws them into the bedstead, then lay- 
 ing himself down, says) Ah, ah ! here, nice, soft, downy bed. 
 
 Schmidt (pushing him off) Hi, you black nigger, get off of my bed! 
 
 Mrs. B. Yes, sir, you can sleep on that bed for four dollars. 
 
 Schmidt. I told you that I did not want to buy the bed. 
 
 Mrs. B. No, I do not want to sell you the bed. I'll let you that bed 
 one night for four dollars. 
 
 Schmidt. No, no; me not vont to buy it, me vont it only till the 
 morning. 
 
 Mrs. B. Yes, yes; I let you the bed till morning for four dollars. 
 
 Schmidt. Very well; me tired, cannot stay talking, walked thirty-five 
 miles; call me in the morning, (lays himself down on bed.) 
 
42 THE TKAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 Mrs. B. At six o'clock ? 
 
 Schmidt. Yaw. [Exit Mrs. B. 
 
 (Schmidt is troubled with the mosquitoes; he rises, shakes the bed, lies down 
 again, is just boasting that when the morning comes hell walk out and 
 forget to pay the four dollars, when he finds himself disturbed by the black 
 servant.) 
 
 Teddy. I say, you, here ! 
 
 Schmidt (remaining snugly ensconced in bed). Well, well; wliat is it 
 you want now ? 
 
 Teddy. Mrs. Barrisnobe sent me up for that four dollars. 
 
 Schmidt. What, didn't I pay her ? 
 
 Teddy. No, you did not. 
 
 Schmidt. Well, tell the old woman that I will give her the money in 
 the morning. 
 
 Teddy. You will pay me four dollars now. 
 
 Schmidt. No, not till the morning. 
 
 Teddy. I say now. 
 
 Schmidt. No. 
 
 Teddy. Oh! no, is it? I'll soon show you all about paying that 
 money, (exit, and returns with a broomstick, belaboring Schmidt all over 
 head and body, says) Pay me that money, will you ? 
 
 Schmidt (springing up from the bed, says). Oh, yaw, yaw ! I'll give 
 you the four dollars; yaw, yaw, me no stand the clubbing. 
 
 Teddy. Thank you, sar. I'll call you at six in the morning. 
 
 Schmidt. Got away with yaw six and clubbing. [Exit. 
 
 Enter Clown. 
 
 Clown (entering, gazes at the headboard of the bed, says). Confound it ! 
 Why don't they mark the numbers plain, so that a fellow can read them ? 
 However, I will wake the man up. (giving him a shake, says) Charley, 
 .Charley, wake up. 
 
 Schmidt (moving himself on bed restlessly). What is the matter now? 
 
 Clown. The matter ? "Why, we are ordered for an early morning re- 
 hearsal. Get up. 
 
 Schmidt. I want no hearse; me not dead yet. Go away. 
 
 Clown. Hearse ! Funerals ! No. Me and you got to get to the 
 circus and rehearse the double somersault. 
 
 Schmidt (sitting bolt upright in bed, says). I want no summer suit; my 
 clothes are right here. 
 
OF PUNCH AND JUDY. 
 
 43 
 
 Clown. Oh, dear, I made a mistake. I thought you was a clown, 
 and you are an old Dutchman. Get back into your bed. A thousand 
 pardons. [Exit. 
 
 Schmidt. Confound it ! Four dollars for a bed ! First that old nigger 
 comes and gives me a clubbing, then that other white-faced monkey 
 comes here and wants to know if I want a hearse, a summer suit, then 
 says it's a beefsteak. 
 
 Enter an Irishman. 
 
 Pat {enters, says). Ah, this must be the bed. You here, Mike? Mike, 
 hurry up. 
 
 Schmidt. Hi, now, vot is all dis trouble about ? 
 
 Pat. Why, Mike, hurry up; we got to catch the early morning train. 
 We must start, you know, . for Boston, and that right away. Now 
 hurry up. 
 
 Schmidt. I want no train, no Boston. I paid four dollars for this 
 bed, and I've had no sleep on it yet. 
 
 Pat. Four dollars for that bed ? I don't believe it. But, I say, do 
 you hear, hurry up, no fooling. 
 
 Schmidt (rising up). Are you going to get out of here ? 
 
 Pat. Oh, dear, I've made a mistake. You are an old Dutchman, and I 
 after an Irishman. Beg pardon. Will leave you for a good night's rest. 
 
 Schmidt. Confound them! Another beefsteak! Wonder if I shall get 
 any sleep before morning ! 
 
 Enter the Doctor. 
 
 Doctor (pushes his head in at the window, says). I believe this is Mrs. 
 Barrisnobe's hotel. I will enter by the front door. Ah, this must be 
 the bed. Come, young man, are you fast asleep ? 
 
 Schmidt. Me asleep? Yot sleep! Paid four dollars for that bed, and 
 have gotten woken up all dis night long. 
 
 Doctor. A little of the deliriems-tremins, young man. You are very 
 sick. You r must take some physic. I'm the doctor. 
 
 Schmidt. Me vants no doctor, no physic; vant to get four dollars 
 worth out of dis bed. 
 
 Doctor. But I'm the doctor. I want five dollars. 
 
 Schmidt. You get right out of here and I'll give you ten dollars in 
 the morning if you will physic that old nigger down-stairs. 
 
 Doctor (retreats, saying). I see I made a mistake; gone to the wrong 
 bed. [Exit. 
 
44 THE TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 Schmidt. Another beefsteak. I vonder if any more of 'em is com- 
 ing up. Four dollars for dis bed ! 
 
 Enter Young Lady with a long nose. 
 
 Adelina (shows herself at tlie window, says). I think my Willie must 
 be here. I will enter, (she approaches the bed) Willie, Willie. 
 
 Schmidt. Vot matter now ? I no Willie. 
 
 Adelina. Willie, what did you run away from me for ? 
 
 Schmidt. Oh, vot a nose ! 
 
 Adelina. My nose, sir, is as good as yours, and more, for you have 
 none at all. 
 
 Schmidt. Oh, vot a nose, (he tries to touch the end of it.) 
 
 Adelina (gets excited, says). My nose is handsomer than yours. But, 
 Willie, Willie, what did you run away for ? 
 
 Schmidt. Yot, me run away from you ? I vood not run away from a 
 little girl so high, (he measures the height with his two hands.) 
 
 Adelina. You promised to marry me, then you run away from me 
 in Philadelphia. 
 
 Schmidt. Yot ! Me marry you viv that 'ere nose ? 
 
 Adelina (very passionately). Nose or no nose, I'll not marry you at 
 all now. You are one nasty, bad man; took me to Philadelphia, prom- 
 ised to marry me, then ran away. Bad man, bad man. I come 
 right here and found you out. [Exit. 
 
 Enter Captain Blowhard, l., with candle, which is suddenly put out as he 
 
 enters. 
 
 Capt. B. I need no light to punish a scoundrel, (comes up, and strikes 
 bed with whip — Schmidt jumps up) So, sir, I've found you — you ras- 
 cally kidnapper ! 
 
 Schmidt. You are mistaken. I am somebody else. 
 
 Capt. B. I know you are Mr. Brown, and that's sufficient. 
 
 Schmidt. I am not Brown, I am te original John Schmidt. 
 
 Capt. B. Brown or Smith, did you not decoy Adelina from her 
 father's arms ? 
 
 Schmidt. Nein. 
 
 Capt. B. Did you not run away with my child ? 
 
 Schmidt. Nein, I never run away nobody. 
 
 Capt. B. Did you not swindle me of a hundred dollars ? 
 
 Schmidt. Nein. 
 
 Capt. B. Are you not a liar ? 
 
OF PUNCH AND JUDY. 45 
 
 Schmidt. Nein. I never lie but in my bed. 
 
 Capt. B. Is not your name Brown ? 
 
 Schmidt. I dell you I am de original John Schmidt. 
 
 Capt. B. I'll make you confess you are a liar, a swindler, a villain, 
 and that your name is Brown. 
 
 Schmidt. Mine Got in Himmel ! vot a peoples ! 
 
 Capt. B. Now, sir, (beats him) are you not a rascal? 
 
 Schmidt. Nein. (Captain beats him) Yaw ! yaw ! 
 
 Capt. B. Are you not a swindler? (beats him.) 
 
 Schmidt. Nein. I am no swindler. (Captain beats him.) 
 
 Capt. B. You are not? (beats him.) 
 
 Schmidt. Mine Got in Himmel, yaw, I am a swindler. 
 
 Capt. B. So much, so good. 
 
 Schmidt. So much, blarney bad. 
 
 Capt. B. Are you not a liar and a villain ? 
 
 Schmidt. Nein. (Captain beats him) Yaw, yaw, I am a Dutch villain, 
 John Schmidt. 
 
 Capt. B. No, sir, your name is Brown. Are you not Brown ? 
 
 Schmidt. Nein. (Captain beats him) Yaw, yaw, I am black and blue. 
 
 Capt. B. I am satisfied for the present, but I- shall send another in- 
 jured party to you. So good-night, and pleasant dreams, Mr. Brown. 
 
 [Exit 
 
 Schmidt (sitting up in bed, crying). Oh ! oh! oh! Boo! oo — oo — oo! 
 I shall die, I shall be killed in dis house. Oh, my poor frow ! She will 
 never see her husband, John Schmidt, not any no more. What will 
 become of me ! 
 
 Teddy (without, l.). I'll find him, Captain. 
 - Schmidt. Te Old Harry, dere is un under one ! He sha'n't find John 
 Schmidt, (jumps out of bed, finds carpet-bag, goes up to ivindow) Here is 
 von window; now J will jump out. (carpet-bag drop>s out of his hand. 
 Crash without) Dere goes mine carpet-bag; now I will jump out. (dog 
 barks) Now I will not jump out. I will go — I know what I will do. I 
 will fool them this time, (he crawls beneath the bed) I'm right snug here 
 now, they no find me out. 
 
 Enter Policeman. 
 
 Officer. This is the hotel. I wonder if I can find the man that 
 robbed that bank. I'll just search round. Nobody in that bed; wonder 
 if he is hid beneath the mattress, (pokes at it with his club) Sometimes 
 they conceal themselves beneath the bed itself. I'll just look, (he looks 
 
46 THE TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 beneath) Oh, here you are, caught at last, (beats him out of his conceal- 
 ment icith his club) Did you not rob the Manhattan Bank ? 
 
 Schmidt. No — I robbed nothing. 
 
 Officer. Did you not run away with the Squire's daughter ? 
 
 Schmidt. No, I ran off with nothin'. 
 
 Officer. Did you not rob the National Bank ? 
 
 Schmidt. No, I done nothin'. 
 
 Officer. Nothing, aye. Ah, what do you call nothing ? (he sets to and 
 gives him a vigorous clubbing) You didn't rob the bank — aye, aye. 
 
 Schmidt. Yaw, yaw; hold off, I say. I did rob the bank. Yaw, yaw. 
 
 Officer (getting a clearer view of his man, says). Oh, lor, you are 
 not the man now, after all. The man that I am after has an Irish pug 
 nose, and you are an old Dutchman. Get back into your bed. I made 
 a mistake. 
 
 Schmidt. Yaw, another beefsteak. Vonder when they'll stop coming 
 and let von fellow get von little sleep. 
 
 Enter Ghost, who opens and closes his ghostly teeth. 
 
 Schmidt. Oh, vot is o'stealing o'er me ? I tremble, I shake. Oh, that 
 clubbing! (he sees the Ghost; he trembles) Oh, oh! Four dollars for a 
 bed in a haunted house. {Exit Ghost. 
 
 Enter Lawyer. 
 
 Schmidt. Now that horrid ghost is gone, vill try and get some sleep. 
 
 Lawyer. Mr. Timothy Slobberchops. 
 
 Schmidt. Vot now — von you another ghost ? 
 
 Lawver. No, sir, I be no ghost; I'm a lawyer. 
 
 Schmidt. I vant no lawyer. 
 
 Lawyer/ Give me my retainer. 
 
 Schmidt. Betainer ? Vot do yer call that? 
 
 Lawyer. Money. Hand me fifty dollars. 
 
 Schmidt (with surprise). Yant fifty dollars ? Vot for? 
 
 Lawyer. Did you not send for me to get a divorce from your wife ? 
 
 Schmidt (lies down on his bed). Diworce from my vife ? I got no 
 wife. I want no retainer; I vant four dollars out of this bed. 
 
 Lawyer. I see they have been fooling me. That man hasn't a cent 
 of money. I'll make tracks. [Exit. 
 
 Schmidt* (now sits vp in bed and sings his little song). 
 
 * The performer takes advantage of the time occupied in singing this song by 
 arranging all in readiness for the grand closing scene of this act. 
 
OF PUNCH AND JUDY. 
 
 47 
 
 Ven first I leaft dot Farderland, 
 Or set me out to roam, 
 My heart was light and happy 
 As could be. 
 
 But now I feel so lonely, 
 Ven I tink me of my home, 
 Of dot little Ditcher home 
 Across der sea. 
 
 Vel 1 , I guess dot now I'll lay down till the morning. 
 
 Enter Mrs. Barrisnobe. 
 Schmidt. Veel, I do declare. I've been disturbed all night long with 
 those black and white ghosts. I must get some sleep, for by and by 
 that old woman will be coming up. 
 
 
 Mrs. B. (looking through the icindoic). Well I never ! There is that 
 Dutchman sleeping now. I'll just go and wake him up. (she approaches 
 the bed) Hi, sir, you, here ! 
 
 Schmidt. Veil, vot is de matter now ? 
 
 Mrs. B. It is seven o'clock, sir. 
 
 Schmidt. Veil, I paid four dollars for this bed, and I have not had 
 an inch of sleep out of it yet. 
 
48 THE TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 Mrs. B. "Well, I only let you the bed for one night for four dollars. 
 
 Schmidt. Veil, you have let those ghosts and fellows trouble me all 
 night, and I have not had four cents' worth yet. 
 
 Mrs. B. It is an hour past six, sir. 
 
 Schmidt. Veil, what of that? 
 
 Mrs. B. I want you out of here. 
 
 Schmidt. Not till I've had four dollars' worth. 
 
 Mrs. B. I'll soon teach you what I mean. Here, Mary, Mary ! Come 
 up directly. 
 
 Enter Negress. 
 
 Mary Yes, ma'am, I'm here. 
 
 Mrs. B. Fetch that man out of bed. 
 
 Mary. What ! He in bed yet ? I'll soon make him clear, (exit, and 
 re-enters with a broomstick, belabors the Dutchman all over, says) You 
 get out of this bed, will you? Sharp, quick ! 
 
 Schmidt (hustles quickly out of the bed). Vot! Me pay four dollars for 
 that bed, and have no sleep on it all dis night ? 
 
 Mrs. B. I let you that bed for one night for four dollars, and now 
 it is time that you was about your business. 
 
 Schmidt. Vot's that you are saying ? 
 
 ^ RS * ' Y (in chorus). You get out of here, mighty quick. 
 
 Schmidt. Four dollars for a bed ! Then I takes it along with me. 
 (he lays hold of and removes the bed, but Mary and Mrs. B. force it from 
 him, and whilst they are depositing it below, he tugs at the bedstead, remov- 
 ing it, says) I'll take this along. (Mary and Schmidt combat for the pos- 
 session of it, to and fro from end to end of the stage. Mary at last suc- 
 ceeds in removing it below. Schmidt, however, remains, singing) 
 
 Four dollars for a sleep, 
 In dis haunted hotel, 
 Clubbed and waken'd up, 
 All the long, long night through. 
 
 Mary (returns with a broomstick, vigorously belabors Schmidt, who is 
 glad to beat a hasty retreat, saying) I never vill vant to take four dollars' 
 worth at dis hotel when I come dis way again. [Exit. 
 
 The Negro here pops his head above the stage, announces that the 
 next show will take place in the course of fifteen minutes, with a change 
 of programme. 
 
OP PUNCH AND JUDY. 
 
 49 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 SCARAMOUCH AND HIS FIDDLE. 
 
 Enter Scaramouch. 
 
 (Punch, alarmed at the appearance of Scaramouch, retreats round' the 
 corner of the stage.) 
 
 Scara. Mr. Punch, Mr. Punch ! 
 
 Punch (approaching nearer-). Mr. Scaramouch, what have; youe there? 
 Scara. This, Mr. Punch, is my fiddle. 
 Punch. Call that a fiddle ? 
 Scara. Yes, it's a real beauty. 
 Punch. If it's a fiddle, why don't you play a tun&?: 
 Scara. That is just what I'm going to do. Thum,, thxum Tuim,tuim. 
 turn. Bing, bing, bing, bing. 
 
50 
 
 THE TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 Punch. Surely you don't call that a tune ? Why, I could do better 
 than that. 
 
 Scara. (gives Punch the fiddle). Then let me hear you. 
 
 Punch. Thum. Turn. Thum. Turn, (he strikes Scaramouch blows 
 on the back of the head, saying) Bing, bing, bing, bing. 
 
 Scara. Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Mr. Punch, I'll have no more of that 
 
 [Exit Scaramouch. 
 
 Enter Polly, very gayly dressed. 
 
 Polly. Where is my father? my dear father! 
 Punch (aside). What a beauty ! 
 
 Polly. Who killed my poor father? Oh ! Oh! (cries.) 
 Punch. 'Twas I. 
 
 Polly. Oh ! Cruel wretch, why did you kill my father ? 
 Punch. For your sake, my love. 
 Polly. Oh, you barbarian! 
 
 Punch. Don't cry so, my dear. You will cry your pretty eyes out, 
 and that would be a pity. 
 
 Polly. Oh, oh ! How could you kill him ? 
 
OF PUNCH AND JUDY. 51 
 
 Punch. He would not let me have you, and so I killed him. If you 
 take on so, I must cry too — Oh, oh! {pretending to weep) How sorry 
 I am! 
 
 Polly. And are you really sorry? 
 
 Punch. Yes, very sorry — look how I cry. 
 
 Polly (aside). What a handsome young man. It is a pity he should 
 cry so. How the tears run down his beautiful long nose ! (aloud) Did 
 you kill my father out of love of me, and are you sorry ? If you are 
 sorry, I must forgive you. 
 
 Punch. I could kill myself for love of you, much more your father. 
 
 Polly. Do you then really love me ? 
 
 Punch. I do ! I do ! 
 
 Polly. Then I must love you! 
 ( Then they embrace, hiss and dance. The whole scene, barring the dancing, 
 
 seems modelled upon the interview between Richard III. and Lady Anne. 
 
 Punch sings.) 
 
 I love you so, I love you so, 
 I never will leave you; no, no, no: 
 If I had all the wives of wise King Sol, 
 I would kill them all for my pretty Poll. 
 
 [Exeunt dancing. 
 
 Enter Punch, with a large sheep-bell, which he rings violently, and dance* 
 about tJw stage, shaking the bell and his head at the same time, and ac- 
 companying the music toith his voice;- — tune, " Morgiana in Ireland." 
 
 Mr. Punch is a very gay man, 
 
 He is the fellow the ladies for winning, oh ; 
 Let them do whatever they can, 
 
 They never can stand his talking and grinning, oh. 
 
 Enter a Servant, in a foreign livery. 
 
 Servant. Mr. Punch, my master, he say he no like dat noise. 
 
 Punch (with surprise, and mocking him). Your master, he say he no 
 like that noise ! What noise ? 
 
 Servant. Dat nasty noise. 
 
 Punch. Do you call music a noise ? 
 
 Servant. My master he no lika de music, Mr. Punch, so he'll have 
 no more noise near his house. 
 
 Punch. He don't, don't he ? Very well. (Punch runs about the stage 
 ringing his bell as loudly as he can.) 
 
 Servant. Get away, I say, wid dat nasty heJH 
 
52 
 
 THE TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 Punch. What bell? 
 
 Servant. That bell {striking it with his hand.) 
 
 Punch. That's a good one. Do you call this a bell? {patting it) It 
 is an organ. 
 
 Servant. I say it is a bell, a nasty bell. 
 
 Punch. I say it is an organ, {striking him with it) What you say it 
 is now? 
 
 Servant. An organ, Mr. Punch. 
 
 Punch. An organ ? I say it is a fiddle. Cant you see ? {offers to 
 strike him again.) 
 
 ijTO "m BE 1 5 H5SE tji a ^ITuH a 
 
 liiiii 
 
 Servant. It is a fiddle. 
 
 Punch. I say it is a drum. 
 
 Servant. It is a drum, Mr. Punch. 
 
 Punch. I say it is a trumpet. 
 
 Servant. Well, so it is a trumpet. But bell, organ, fiddle, drum or 
 trumpet, my master, he say he no lika de music. 
 
 Punch. Then bell, organ, fiddle, drum or trumpet, Mr. Punch, he 
 say your master is a fool. 
 
 Servant. And he say, too, he will not have it near his house, 
 
OF PUNCH AND JUDY. 53 
 
 Punch. He's a fool, I say, not to like my sweet music. Tell him so : 
 be off. (hits him with the bell) Get along, (driving the Servant round the 
 stage, backwards, and striking him often with the bell) Be off, be off. 
 (knocking him off the stage. Exit Servant. Punch continues to ring the 
 bell as loudly as before, while he sings and dances.) 
 
 Re-enter Servant, slyly, with a stick. 
 
 (Punch perceiving him, retreats behind the side curtain, and remains upon 
 the watch. The Servant does the same, but leaves the end of the stick 
 visible. Punch again comes forward, sets down his bell very gently, and 
 creeps across the stage, marking his step* with his hands upon the plat- 
 form, to ascertain whereabouts his enemy is. He then returns to his bell, 
 takes it up, and, going quietly over the stage, hits the Servant a heavy 
 blow through the curtain, and exit, ringing his bell on the opposite side.) 
 Servant. You one nasty, noisy, impudent blackguard. Me catch 
 you yet. (hides again as before.) 
 
 (Enter Punch, and strikes him as before with the bell. The Servant pop>s 
 out, and aims a blow, but not quickly enough to hit Punch, who exit.) 
 Servant. You scoundrel, rascal, vagabond, blackguard and liar, you 
 shall pay for this, depend upon it. 
 
 (He stands back. Enter Punch, with his bell, who, seeing the Servant with 
 his stick, retreats instantly, and returns, also armed wUh a bludgeon, which 
 he does not at first show. The Servant comes forward, and strikes 
 Punch on the head so hard a blow that it seems to confuse him.) 
 Servant. Me teach you how to ring your nast3 T , noisy bell near de 
 gentil-men's houses. 
 
 Punch (recovering). Two can play at that, (hits the Servant with his 
 stick. A conflict — after a long struggle, during which the combatants ex- 
 change staves, and perform various maneuvers, Punch gains the victory, 
 and knocks his antagonist down on the platform, by repeated blows on the 
 head.) 
 -Servant. Oh, dear! Oh, my head! 
 
 Punch. And oh, your tail, too. (hitting him there) How do you like 
 that, and that, and that? (hitting him each time) Do you like that music 
 better than the other? This is my bell, (hits) this my organ, (hits) this 
 my fiddle, (hits) this iny drum, (hits) and this my trumpet, (hits) there! 
 A whole concert for you. 
 
 Servant. No more ! me dead. 
 Punch. Quite dead? 
 Servant. Yes, quite. 
 
54 THE TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 Punch. Then there's the last for luck, (hits him and kills him. He then 
 takes hold of the body by its legs, swings it round two or three times, and 
 throws it away.) 
 
 Enter an old Blind Max, feeling his way with a staff; he goes to the oppo- 
 site side, when he knocks. 
 
 Blind Man. Poor blind man, Mr. Punch; I hope you'll bestow your 
 charity; I hear that you are very good and kind to the poor, Mr. 
 Punch; pray have pity upon me, and may you never know the loss of 
 your tender eyes ! (listens, putting his ear to the side, and hearing nobody 
 coming knocks again) I lost my sight by the sands in Egypt; poor blind 
 man. Pray, Mr. Punch, have compassion upon the poor stone blind. 
 (coughs, and spits over the side) Only a halfpenny to buy something for 
 my bad cough. Only one halfpenny, (knocks again.) 
 
 Enter Punch, and receives one of the knocks, intended for the door, upon 
 
 his head. 
 
 Punch. Hollo ! you old blind blackguard, can't you see ? 
 
 Blind Man. No, Mr. Punch. Pray, sir, bestow your charity upon a 
 poor blind man, with a bad cough, (coughs.) 
 
 Punch. Get along, get along; don't trouble me: nothing for you. 
 
 Blind Man. Only a half-penny ! Oh, dear ! my cough is so bad ! 
 (coughs and spits in PuNCH's/ace.) 
 
 Punch. Hollo ! Was my face the dirtiest place you could find to 
 spit in ? Get away ! you nasty old blackguard ! Get away ! (seizes 
 the Blind Man's staff, and knocks him off the stage. Punch hums a tune, 
 and dances to it; and then begins to sing, in the mock Italian style, the fol- 
 lowing words, pretending to play the fiddle on his arm, with the stick) 
 
 When I think on yon, my jewel, 
 
 Wonder not my heart is sad; 
 You're so fair, and yet so cruel, 
 
 You're enough to drive me mad. 
 
 On thy lover take some pity, 
 
 And relieve his bitter smart. 
 Think you Heaven has made you pretty 
 
 But to break your lover's heart ? 
 
OF PUNCH AND JUDY. 55 
 
 ACT Y. 
 
 Scene. — The Prison House. 
 
 Enter a Constable. 
 
 Constable. Leave off your singing, Mr. Punch, for I've come to make 
 you sing on the wrong side of your mouth. 
 
 Punch. Why, who the devil are you ? 
 
 Constable. Don't you know me ? 
 
 Punch. No, and don't want to know you. 
 
 Constable. Oh, but you must: I am the constable. 
 
 Punch. And who sent for you? 
 
 Constable. I am sent for you. 
 
 Punch. I don't want constable. I can settle my own business with- 
 out constable, I thank you. I don't want constable. 
 
 Constable. But the constable wants you. 
 
 Punch. The dickens he does ! What for, pray ? 
 
 Constable. You killed Mrs. Punch. You knocked her head off her 
 shoulders. 
 
 Punch. "What's that to you? If you stay here much longer, I'll 
 serve you the same. 
 
 Constable. Don't tell me. You have committed murder, and I've a 
 warrant for you. 
 
 Punch. And I've a warrant for you. (Punch knocks him down, and 
 dances and sings about the stage, to the tune of " Green grow the Rushes 
 O.") 
 
 Enter an Officer, in a cocked hat with a cockade, and a long pigtail. 
 
 Officer. Stop your noise, my fine fellow. 
 Punch. Shan't. 
 Officer. I'm an officer. 
 
 Punch. Very welL Did I say you were not ? 
 Officer. You must go with me. You killed your wife and child. 
 Punch. They were my own, I suppose; and I had a right to do what 
 I liked with them. 
 
56 THE TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 Officer. We shall see that. I'm come to take you up. 
 Punch. And I'm come to take you down. (Punch knocks him down, 
 and sings and dances as before.) 
 
 Enter Jack Ketch, in a fur cap. Punch, while dancing, runs up against 
 him without seeing him. 
 
 Punch (with some symptoms of alarm). My dear sir, I beg you one 
 thousand pardons: very sorry. 
 
 J. Ketch. Aye, you'll be sorry enough before I've done with you. 
 Don't you know me ? 
 
 Punch. Oh, sir, I know you very well, and I hope you very well, and 
 Mrs. Ketch very well. 
 
 J. Ketch. Mr. Punch, you're a very bad man. Why did you kill 
 Mrs. Punch? 
 
 Punch. In self-defence. 
 
 J. Ketch. That won't do. 
 
 Punch. She wanted to kill me. 
 
 J. Ketch. How? 
 
 Punch. With a stick. 
 
 J. Ketch. That's all gammon. You must come to prison; my name's 
 Ketch. 
 
 Punch. Ketch that then. (Punch knocks down Jack Ketch, and con- 
 tinues to dance and sing.) 
 
 Re-enter Jack Ketch. 
 
 J. Ketch. Mr. Punch, there is your gallows and likewise — (retreats 
 below.) 
 
 Punch. What do you call a likewise ? 
 
 J. Ketch.* There is your coffin. 
 
 Punch. What that for, I wonder ? Oh, dear, I see now: what one 
 fool I was ! That is large basket for the fruit be put into, (he takes up 
 coffin, runs with it two circles round the stage and slams it down on to 
 Ketch's head, depositing it with a bang down on to the stage.) 
 
 J. Ketch (adjusting the row of the gallows). Mr. Punch, step this way 
 and have some dinner ! 
 
 Punch. Much obliged Mr. Ketch, but I have already taken dinner. 
 
 *At this point, where the show is wholly or in part paid for by voluntary con- 
 tributions, one of the performers, with a basket, passes round amongst the audi- 
 ence and takes up the collection. 
 
OF PUNCH AND JUDY. 
 
 57 
 
 J. Ketch. Come, then, and have some nice ice-cream. 
 
 Punch. Thank you, Mr. Ketch, I don't take ice now; it is too cold. 
 
 J. Ketch. Then come and have a good supper. 
 
 Punch. I never eat suppers; they are not wholesome. 
 
 J. Ketch. Then step this way and be hanged. 
 
 Punch. Ill be hanged if I will. 
 
 J. Ketch. Come directly. 
 
 Punch. I can't; I've got one bone in my leg. 
 
 J. Ketch. And you've got one bone in your neck which must soon 
 be broken; but no more delay, Mr. Punch; put your head through 
 this loop. 
 
 Punch. Through there ? What for ? 
 
 J. Ketch. Aye, through there, (he holds the loop open.) 
 
 Punch. What for V I don't know how. 
 
 J. Ketch. It is very easy: only put your head through here. 
 
 Punch. What, so? (poking his head on one side of the noose.) 
 
 J. Ketch. No, no, here ! 
 
 Punch. So, then ? (poking his head on the other side.) 
 
58 THE TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 J. Ketch. Not so, you fool. 
 
 Punch. Mind who you call fool: try if you can do it yourself. Only 
 show me how, and I do it directly. 
 
 J. Ketch. Very well; I will. There, you stand just there and mind 
 don't you move, (he places Punch against the side-post of the stage) Re- 
 member that you are not to move. 
 
 Punch. Oh, no; I'll never move.* 
 
 J. Ketch (about to put his head through the loop, noticing a little move- 
 ment in Punch, says) Ah, you moved. 
 
 Punch. Oh, no; I never moved. 
 
 J. Ketch. Now, Mr. Punch, you see my head, and you see this loop. 
 Put it in so. (putting his head through the noose.) 
 
 Punch. And pull it tight — so ! (he pulls the rope forcibly down, and 
 hangs Jack Ketch) Huzza ! Huzza ! 
 
 J. Ketch {wriggling his arms and body vigorously about). Golly, golly, 
 Mr. Punch, what are you doing ? Leave go the end of that rope. 
 
 Punch. Not if I knows it. I say, old boy, how do you feel ? (Ketch 
 ceases his struggling, and dies. Punch leaves his body hanging and calls) . 
 Joey! Joey! 
 
 Enter Joey. 
 
 Joey. Why, Massa Punch, ye have been and hung the sheriff. 
 
 Punch. I know it. He wanted to hang me, and so I hung him. 
 
 Joey. Was that so ? Well, what are we to do with him now ? 
 
 Punch. Take him down. 
 
 Joey. That is so, Massa Punch. We will take his dead body down. 
 (they take him down, and remove the gallows.) 
 
 Punch. Put him in his coffin. 
 
 Joey. Good, Mr. Punch. But why, maesa, they have not made the 
 coffin long enough! 
 
 Punch. Double him up. 
 
 Joey. Ah! that is so. We will double him up. But, Massa Punch, 
 he'll not go in the coffin now. 
 
 Punch. Well, ram him down. (Punch fetches his club, and tucks him 
 down and in.) 
 
 Joey. And, massa, what will you do with him now? 
 
 Punch. Take him below. Lift. 
 
 Joey. Oh, yes, massa; take him below — I lift. (Punch lifts his end of 
 the coffin several inches above the stage ; but Joey is dancing at the other 
 end.) 
 
OF PUNCH AND JUDY. 59 
 
 Punch. "Why don't you lift ? 
 
 Joey. Oh, yes, niassa; me lift my end up. (but he still fools at lifting 
 as before, whilst Punch raises his end high up.) 
 
 Punch. I say — are you going to lift? 
 
 Joey. Oh, yes, massa; we'll both lift. 
 
 Punch. Lift, will you? (Punch fetches his club, and gives Joey three 
 cracks on the head; repeats) Lift, will you? 
 
 Joey. Oh, yes, yes, Massa Punch! me will lift now — right away now. 
 (they raise the coffin, and cany it twice from end to end of the stage, sing- 
 ing) Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust! 
 
 [Exeunt, with coffin. 
 Re-enter Punch, who sings : 
 
 They're out, they're out ! I've done the trick ! 
 
 Jack Ketch is dead— I'm free ; 
 I do not care, now, if Old Nick 
 
 Himself should come for me. 
 
 (Goes off, and returns with a stick. He dances about beating time on the 
 front of the stage, and singing to the tune of "Green grow the rushes 
 O") 
 
 Eight foil de riddle loll, 
 I'm the boy to do 'em all. 
 
 Here's a stick 
 
 To thump Old Nick, 
 If he, by chance, upon me call. 
 
 Enter the Demon. He just peeps in at the corner of the stage, and exit. 
 
 Punch (much frightened, and retreating as far as he can). Oh, dear! 
 Oh, Lord! Talk of the demon, and he pops up his horns. There the 
 old gentleman is, sure enough, (a pause, and dead silence, whilst Punch 
 continues to gaze at the spot where the Demon appeared. The Demon comes 
 forward) Good, kind Mr. Demon, I never did you any harm, but all 
 the good in my power. There — don't come any nearer. How you 
 do, sir? (collecting courage) I hope you and all your respectable family 
 well? Much obliged for this visit. Good-morning! Should be 
 sorry to keep you, for I know you have a great deal of business when 
 you come to this city, (the Demon advances) Oh, dear! What will be- 
 come of me ! 
 
 (The Demon darts at Punch, who escapes, and aims a Mow at his enemy; 
 the Demon eludes it, as well as many others, laying his head on the plat- 
 form, and slipping it rapidly backwards and forwards, so that Punch, 
 instead of striking him, only repeatedly hits the boards.) 
 
 [Exit Demon. 
 
60 
 
 THE TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 Punch. He, he, he! (laughing) He's off! He knew which side his 
 bread buttered on. He one deep, cunning devil. 
 
 (Punch is alarmed by hearing a strange, supernatural, whirring noise, 
 something 'like the rapid motion of fifty spinning wheels, and again re- 
 treats to the corner, fearfully wailing the event.) 
 
 Re-enter the Demon, with a stick. He makes up to Punch, who retreats 
 round the back of the stage, and they stand eyeing one another, and fenc- 
 ing at opposite sides. At last the Demon makes a blow at Punch, which 
 tells on the back of his head. 
 
 Punch. Oh, my head ! What is that for ? Pray, Mr. Demon, let 
 us be friends, (the Demon hits him again, and Punch begins to take it in 
 dudgeon, and to grow angry) Why, you must be one very stupid demon 
 not to knoAv your best friend when you see him. (the Demon hits him 
 again) Be quiet, I say, you hurt me ! Well, if you won't, we must try 
 which is the best man — Punch or the Demon. 
 
 (Here commences a terrific combat between the Demon and Punch; in the 
 beginning, the latter has much the worst of it, being hit by his black ad- 
 versary when and where he pleases. At last the Demon seems to grow 
 
OF PUNCH AND JUDY. 
 
 61 
 
 weary, and Punch succeeds in planting several heavy blows. The balance 
 being restored, the fight is kept up for some time, and, towards the conclu- 
 sion, Punch has the decided advantage, and drives his enemy before him. 
 The Demon is stunned by repeated blows on the head and horns, and 
 falls forward on the platform, where Punch completes his victory, and 
 knocks the breaifi out of his body. Punch then puts his staff up the 
 Demon's black clothes, and whirls him round in the air, exclaiming: 
 "Huzza! huzza! the Demon's dead I") 
 
62 THE TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 ACT VI. 
 THE SINKING SHIP. 
 
 Scene. — The Sea, with waves in motion. 
 
 Enter Negro. 
 
 Negro. Ship ahoy! Ship ahoy! 
 Dutchman. What was that you were saying? 
 Negro (points across the sea). Don't you see that 'ere? 
 Dutchman. Yaw! I see the sea. 
 Negro. Yah; but I mean that 'ere — right o'er there. 
 Dutchman. Yaw! so now I do; but, lor, I've no telescope. What 
 do you think it is? 
 
 Negro. Big ship ! big ship ! Maybe a man-o'-war. 
 Dutchman. Do you think she's a-coming this way? 
 Negro. I do. 
 
 Enter Irishman. 
 
 Irishman. Arrah, my boys, glad you're here. Have you seen a 
 steamship come along ? 
 
 Dutchman. Yell, yes; von in the distance— right over there. 
 
 Irishman. Arrah, that is good ! My old lady will be pleased now. 
 
 Dutchman. Vy, Paddy, vot great event is on now ? 
 
 Irishman. Nothing, only my wife made me send over to old Ireland 
 for her mother to come on, and she hurried me off this morning to 
 look out for the good ship. 
 
 Dutchman. I congratulate you, my boy. Going to have a mother- 
 in-law to take care of thee. 
 
 Irishman. Arrah, my friend, you try to strike me hard; but, you 
 bet, I'll make it warm if the old lady don't provide me with a latch- 
 key. 
 
 Dutchman. Never mind for this von leetle bit o' chaff. Come with 
 me, and take a little refreshment. 
 
OF PUNCH AND JUDY. 
 
 63 
 
 Irishman. But I have to wait for the ship. 
 
 Dutchman. That yon ship vill not be here for von whole hour yet. 
 Come, now; thou hast time. 
 
 Irishman. Arrah, well said! But what are those black clouds I see ? 
 
 Dutchman. See yon ship taking in her canvas. Hurry, before we 
 are taken in the storm ourselves. [Exeunt. 
 
 ( The waves of the artificial sea are now set in motion. Ship enters at the 
 left side, and slowly sails twice across. On Us third sail the ship is met by 
 a Steamer, coming in an opposite direction. Voices are heard— "Hard 
 a-port! Where are you coming to?" The Ship and Steamer collide 
 together ; voices are again heard — " We are sinking ! Get out the life- 
 boat!" The sails of the Sailing *Ship become ruffled up, and the Ship 
 gradually sinks beneath the waves — the Steamer passes along uninjured.) 
 
 * This ship is mechanically constructed, so that at the desired moment it is 
 made to show signs of becoming a wreck. The steamer is in like ntanner con- 
 structed, with the addition that on its reverse side it represents a sailing vessel 
 only. For this dialogue the steamer may be wrecked in place of the sail ship. 
 
64 
 
 THE TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 Enter Dutchman. 
 
 Dutchman. Yaw, yaw, that vessel is now no more. 
 
 Irishman. Arrah, I say, is that ship come in yet ? 
 
 Dutchman. Ship come in! Vot, have you not heard the news? 
 
 Irishman. News! What news? 
 
 Dutchman. That ship has sunk— gone to the very bottom. 
 
 Irishman. What! With all on board? 
 
 Dutchman. Yes; all are drowned. 
 
 Irishman. Then my wife's mother is gone, too. (he puts his hands up 
 to his face and cries.) 
 
 Dutchman. Vot! Crying because you've lost your mother-in-law ? 
 
 Irishman. No, friend, it is not that; but maybe when I tell my ole 
 woman she'll be arter going frantic, and clubbing my head off. 
 
 Dutchman. Nonsense ! I'll come with you, and gradually break the 
 sad, sad news. [Exeunt 
 
OF PUNCH AND JUDY. 
 
 65 
 
 THE BLACK JUDGE. 
 
 Scene. — The Prison-House. 
 
 Enter tico men who fix the Judge's bench in the hole used for the gallows. 
 Prisoners' pen in the centre ; Lawyers' table on the left of stage. 
 
 [Exit. 
 Judge enters — takes his stand at the bench. 
 
 Judge. I have to inform my learned friends that the judge that 
 should have been here, by the advice of his physician has left this 
 day for Europe, and I will hold Court until his return. 
 
 Lawyer. "What ! A black Justice to hold Court ? 
 Judge. Yes; I sit here to-day. 
 Lawyer. I object to your jurisdiction. 
 
66 THE TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 Judge. The Court overrules your objection, and fines you ten cigars 
 for contempt of Court. Call the docket. Is it large ? Where are the 
 officers ? 
 
 Enter Court Officer. 
 
 Officer. Your Honor, there are several cases set down for trial. 
 
 Judge. Call the first that is guilty. 
 
 Lawyer. Michael Doolittle. 
 
 Officer. Michael Doolittle. (goes for him, and marches him into the 
 pen.) 
 
 Judge. What is the charge ? 
 
 Lawyer. Highway robbery. 
 
 Judge. Highway robbery ! What is that? 
 
 Lawyer. Stealing from the person — taking the prosecutor's watch — 
 his golden time-keeper. 
 
 Judge. Prisoner, what have you to say in mitigation of the sentence 
 cf the Court, pertaining to this heinous, serious charge ? 
 
 Prisoner. I was guilty, your Honor, but that 'ere man (points to the 
 prosecutor) came alone, and placed himself in my way. 
 
 Judge. Prisoner, is that your only defence? Were you hungry — 
 were you hard up ? 
 
 Prisoner. Had not one dime to rub against another. 
 
 Judge. The decision of this honorable Court is 
 
 Lawyer (interrupting). Your Honor, so far from being hungry, he 
 had on him — his person — a massive silver watch and a diamond ring. 
 
 Judge. W 7 hat ! Prisoners wear diamond rings ? 
 
 Lawyer. Just the truth, your Honor. 
 
 Judge. Prisoner, look on the Court. You, having pleaded guilty to 
 this most heinous, serious charge, the Court decides that you be taken 
 back to jail, the diamond ring confiscated for the Court's own use, you 
 to deliver up both watches to the prosecutor, and be by him sen- 
 tenced to work at hard labor as many days as he may see fit. 
 
 [Exit Prisoner. 
 
 Judge. Call the next case. 
 
 Lawyer. The next, your Honor, is an outfall betwixt a butcher and 
 ;a baker. 
 
 Judge. A cat-fall between a butcher and a baker ! How did that 
 happen ? 
 
 . Lawyer. An outfall, your Honor — a misunderstanding — a fight. 
 
 .Judge. Let them come into Court. 
 
OF PUNCH AND JUDY. 67 
 
 Officer (calls). Herman Kahlesole and William Paul (he brings 
 them in and places in pen.) 
 
 Judge. What is this grave charge all about? 
 
 Lawyer. Nothing grave, your Honor. It appears that this butcher, 
 on leaving his store, stepped on a piece of fat, and fell with a quarter 
 of beef. Paul, the baker, laughed at him. The butcher got angry, 
 and so they set to punching one another's heads'. 
 
 Judge. What ! Punch one another's heads after the spill of a quartet 
 of beef? 
 
 Lawyer. Just the history, Judge. I am instructed to recommend 
 them to the merciful consideration of the Court. 
 
 Judge. Kahlesole, you have heard the charge against you, and the 
 recommendation of your counsel. Are you ready to bury the hatchet ? 
 
 Butcher. Vat! Mine ax? Nein, nein. 
 
 Judge. I mean to make peace and shake hands. 
 
 Butcher. Veil, veil, I will; but dot goesh against mine constitution. 
 (they shake hands and depart.) 
 
 Judge. What is the next charge ? 
 
 Lawyer. Intoxication. 
 
 Judge. Inoculation ! Is that anything good to eat? 
 
 Lawyer. No, your Honor; I said intoxication — too much whisky. 
 
 Judge. Oh ! I do comprehend. Call the w 7 ine-barrel in. 
 
 Officer (calls). Oscar Hubbs, this way in. 
 
 Judge. Hubbs, you were found drunk last night. What have you 
 to say? 
 
 Hubbs. As long as the fox runs, he gets catched at last. 
 
 Judge. Does the fox ever have a ten-dollar note ? 
 
 Hubbs. Sometimes; but not now. 
 
 Judge. You can go this time; but don't get into this fox-hole again. 
 
 [Exit Hubbs. 
 
 Judge. What is the next charge ? 
 
 Lawyer. Bigamy. 
 
 Judge. Bigger than me ! How — in bad deeds ? 
 
 Lawyer (chuckling with laughter). No; bigamy—a man that has 
 married six wives. 
 
 Judge (in astonishment). Six wives 1 Are any of them in Court? 
 
 Lawyer. Yes; there are four here. 
 
 Judge. So the remaining two have gotten him here to be kept out of 
 the four's way. I condemn the prisoner to be given up to the custody 
 of the four, and if either is like mine at home,, he will have punishment 
 enough. Call the next case. 
 
68 THE TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 Officer (calls ana shows into pen). Timothy Garpickle. 
 Judge. What is the charge ? 
 Lawyer. Bobbing hen-roosts. 
 Judge. Robbing her roasts ! Koast what ? 
 
 Lawyer. Hen-roosts — taking away the eggs and young chickens. 
 Judge. Prisoner, what have you got to say to the charge ? 
 Prisoner. Guilty. 
 
 Judge. Clear him out; we'll stand no blarney fooling here. The 
 Court and learned counsel will take a recess for luncheon. 
 
 [Exit Lawyer. 
 
 ( Voices are now heard from without. Two men, with slicks, enter, and 
 demand an interview with the Judge. The Officer attempts to disarm 
 them of their weapons. A lively fight ensues, during which the stage is 
 cleared of its Lawyers' table, Prisoners' pen and Judge's box. The 
 fight continuing, the Judge and Court Officer at last succeed in causing 
 the two pugilists to beat a hasty retreat.) 
 
 The above Drama has been arranged for acting on the Punch and Judy stage. 
 For the parlor acting Drama, which is on a more extended scale, send 15 cents 
 to the publisher, for a copy of the "Dutch Justice." 
 
OF PUNCH AND JUDY. 
 
 Mr. Punch and the Great $25,000 Box Trick. 
 
 Enter Foreigner and Mr. Punch. 
 
 Foreigner. Mr. Punch, have you heard the news ? 
 
 Punch. News ! "What news ? 
 
 Foreigner. Why, my boss has received from Europe a great twenty- 
 five-thousand-dollar box. 
 
 Punch (with a gesticulation of surprise, says). I don't believe it. 
 
 Foreigner. It is all true, and he has left me in charge of it. 
 
 Punch. Is that so ? Well, what is there inside that box ? 
 
 Foreigner. Oh, I don't exactly know; but lots cf funny things, alive, 
 I think. 
 
 * This famous act never fails in bringing out a round of applause, and should 
 be used as a closing piece to the popular Tragedies of Punch and Judy. 
 
70 THE TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 Punch. Well, suppose you bring it up, and let's see what it looks 
 like. 
 
 Foreigner. Ah! so I will; but mind, you mustn't raise the lid up. 
 
 Punch. All right; go ahead — bring it up. (Punch commences to 
 dance with delight.) 
 
 Foreigner. Yes, yes, it shall be brought up, but you must come 
 down and help me, it is so heavy. (Punch ^disappears, following the 
 Foreigner.) 
 
 Re-enter Foreigner and Punch, bearing box. They fix it in position. 
 
 Foreigner. Now mind, Mr. Punch, you are not to touch that box. 
 
 Punch {dances up and down the stage in high glee ; peeps round, and 
 looks at front of box, says). Oh, no; I not touch it. 
 
 Foreigner. Now, Mr. Punch, I am going away; but remember, you 
 are not to touch that box. [Exit Foreigner. 
 
 Punch. Oh, no; I not touch it. (he taps, however, at side of box, and 
 darts away, dancing.) 
 
 Foreigner (returning). Ah! Now, Mr. Punch, I saw you touching 
 that box. 
 
 Punch. Oh, no ! me no go near it. 
 
 Foreigner. Now remember, Mr. Punch, if you go touching or open- 
 ing that box, the little dog may wake up and bite. 
 
 Punch (continuing his dance to and fro, says). I not touch box; you 
 can go away. (Foreigner disappears.) 
 
 (Punch, getting curious, remarks: "I'd like to see what is inside that 
 box." Attempts to raise the lid, but is startled by a yell. Box flies 
 open, and the little Dog pops his head and forepaws out; tries to get, a 
 grip at Punch, which he partially succeeds in. Punch squeals, and gets 
 away; cautiously carries on a combat, ending in the little Dog being 
 driven down, the lid of the box closing on him. Mr. Punch, congratu- 
 lating himself that there are no more foes, is startled by hearing a 
 roaring sound, and, on attempting to open the lid, shows alarm at the 
 appearance of his Satanic Majesty.) 
 
 Demon. Mr. Punch, I'm from the infernal regions. 
 
 Punch. Well, what of that? 
 
 Demon. I've come to take you below with me. 
 
 Punch. I don't know so much about that. 
 
 Demon. Yes, Mr. Punch, your time is up; you have to come with me. 
 
OF PUNCH AND JUDY. 
 
 71 
 
 Punch. Then we'll fight. 
 
 (Punch and the Demon have a very smart combat, during which the Demon 
 nearly succeeds in drawing Mr. Punch down the box. Punch squeals, 
 and xcriggles himself away, afterwards taking care not to approach too 
 near, to be again grasped by his Majesty; sets to making a vigorous 
 attack, ending by driving the Demon down the box. Punch is now 
 greatly elated over his triumphal battle with the Demon; darts quickly 
 from corner to corner of the stage; then showing himself at the centre, 
 approaches the box, raises up the lid, looks within, says: "I see there is 
 nothing more in there, and being all safe, think that I will now 
 take a nap." Be lies down on the stage, his head towards the box. He 
 is soon disturbed by the appearance of a wide-mouthed Snake, who tries 
 to gulp him down. Punch, escaping, and emboldened with the success 
 over his former foes, shows fight. Snake nips him, but he again escapes. 
 Punch is much put about by the appearance, also, of a huge Crocodile 
 on the opposite end of the stage. Finding the chances of victory going 
 against him, he calls out for Joey, who, appearing, is seized by the 
 Crocodile. Punch forces him away, and, in his excitement, places him 
 in the way of the wide-mouthed Snake, who gulps at him, and draws 
 him down the box out of sight. Snake, reappearing, lays hold of Me. 
 Punch, draws him squealing, headforemost, down the box, the Crocodile 
 assisting by snapping at Mr. Punch's legs as they are disappearing from 
 view. The Crocodile plunges round about and over the front of the 
 stage, but finding nothing more to snap at, also disappears from view.) 
 
 U i 
 
72 
 
 THE TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 THE VENTRI LOQUI AL CHAMP 1 NS 
 
 COPYRIGHT 
 
OF PUNCH AND JUDY. 73 
 
 DIALOGUE 
 
 FOR A PAIR OF 
 
 Ventriloqiiial Champions. 
 
 See Illustration. 
 
 Performer. Well, my little boys, can you talk? 
 
 Joey. Yes; I can talk. 
 
 Freddy. And I can talk, too. 
 
 Perf. Since you can talk, will you please tell me your names ? 
 
 Fred. Well, my name is Freddy. 
 
 Joey. And call me Joey. 
 
 Perf. Well, Joey, how do you feel? 
 
 Joey. Well, I don't feel very well. 
 
 Perf. Don't feel very well ? 
 
 Joey. No. 
 
 Perf. What appears to be the matter with you ? 
 
 Joey. Well, I was out in the rain, and I caught cold. 
 
 Perf. Out in the rain and caught cold ? 
 
 Joey. Yes. 
 
 Fred. I say, Mr. Valentine. 
 
 Perf. Yes, Freddy. 
 
 Fred. What good is the rain ? 
 
 Perf. What good is the rain ! 
 
 Fred. Yes. 
 
 Perf. The rain, my boy, has a tendency of bringing everything up 
 from the ground. 
 
 JoEy. W x eli I hope it won't bring my old woman up. 
 
 Perf. {with surprise). What? Your old woman! You don't mean 
 to say you were ever married I 
 
 Joey. Yes, I was, once. 
 
 Perf. You are but a little boy. You don't look old enough to have 
 been ever married. 
 
 Joey. I am older than you think I am. 
 
74 THE TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 Perf. How old a man are you ? 
 
 Joey. I am more than twenty years old. ■ 
 
 Perf. Do you pretend to say that you were born twenty years ago ? 
 
 Joey. I do. ,, 
 
 Perf. I don't believe it. 
 
 Joey (looks in Performer's face). Was you there ? 
 
 Perf. No. 
 
 Joey. Well, I was. 
 
 Perf. Then, if you was there, you must know all about it 
 
 Joey. I do. 
 
 Perf. You are a pretty good speller, are you not, Joey? 
 
 Joey. Yes, and I can count, too. 
 
 Perf. You can count ! I'll just try you. What do two and two 
 make ? 
 
 Joey. Please to give me a harder one than that. 
 
 Perf. Four and four ? 
 
 Joey. Eight. 
 
 Perf. Twice eight ? 
 
 Joey. Sixteen. 
 
 Perf. Ten and ten ? 
 
 Joey. Twenty. 
 
 Perf. Good, so far, Joey, but I shall catch you soon. 
 
 Joey. No, you won't. 
 
 Perf. Well, we shall see. Twice eleven? 
 
 Joey. Twenty. 
 
 Perf. Wrong. Ah, Joey! I've caught you this time. Twice ten 
 was twenty. 
 
 Joey. And twice eleven is twenty, too (two). 
 
 Perf. Eight, Joey; you are getting smart. Can you spell milk? 
 
 Joey. You must show me how. 
 
 Perf. Will soon do that. M-i-l-k. 
 
 Joey. Milk. 
 
 Perf. No; I want you to spell it. 
 
 Joey. M-i-l-k, milk. 
 
 Perf. I will try you on another. Spell sugar. 
 
 Joey. S-e-g-a-r, segar. 
 
 Perf. That's wrong. Not segar — sugar, I want you to spell. 
 
 Joey. That was right. S-e-g-a-r, segar. 
 
 Perf. No, no ! "What does my wife put in my tea in the morning ? 
 
 Joey. Ah ! now I know. Whisky. Is that what it spells ? 
 
OF PUNCH AND JUDY. 75 
 
 Perf. (waiting a few seconds for the applause to quiet down, says). Smart 
 again, Joey. I'll try you yet on another. Constantinople. 
 
 Joey. Oh, Jerushua ! What an hard 'un ! 
 
 Perf. Well, Joey, I will help you. Now, right after me. Con. 
 
 Joey. Con. 
 
 Perf. Stan. 
 
 Joey. Stan. 
 
 Perf. Ti. 
 
 Joey. Ti. 
 
 Perf. No. 
 
 Joey. No. 
 
 Perf. Pie. 
 
 Joey. Pie. 
 
 Perf. Constantinople. 
 
 Joey. Constable. 
 
 Perf. That was wrong. Constantinople — not constable. 
 
 Joey. Well, that isn't the way we spelt it when I went to school. 
 
 Perf. W T ell how did you spell it, then ? 
 
 Joey. We spelt it in this way: Con, with a stan, with a t, with a ti, 
 with a tipple, with a tople, with a Constantinople. 
 
 Perf. Good, Mr. Joey ! After that we 
 
 Fred, {interrupting). I say, Mr. Valentine ? 
 
 Perf. Yes, Freddy. 
 
 Fred. Do you know that Joe went down-town and knocked down 
 an old woman near sixty years old ? 
 
 Perf. He did! 
 
 Fred. Yes, he did. 
 
 Joey. Yes, and I would have knocked her down if she had been an 
 hundred and sixty years old. 
 
 Perf. (giving Joey a box on the ear). Now, you would do no such 
 thing. 
 
 Joey. Yes, I would. & 
 
 Perf. Now, Joey, what was your father ? 
 
 Joey. Well they say that he was a good man. 
 
 Perf. I mean, what trade was he ? 
 
 Joey. My father, sir, was a glazier. 
 
 Perf. A glazier ? 
 
 Joey. Yes; and pray, Mr. Valentine, what was your father? 
 
 Perf. My father, sir, was a gentleman. 
 
 Joey. A gentleman? 
 
/ 
 
 76 THE TRAGICAL ACTS, OR COMICAL TRAGEDIES 
 
 Perf. Yes. 
 
 Joey. Then how was it, Mr. Valentine, that he did not make a gen- 
 tleman of you ? 
 
 Perf. Joey, you are getting a little too personal, (turns to Freddy) 
 Now, Freddy, what were you doing over the bridge last night? 
 
 Fred. I went over to see my girl. 
 
 Perf. And did you see her ? 
 
 Fred. The old people would not let me into the house. 
 
 Perf. Well, what did you do ? 
 
 Fred. I stood under a tree. 
 
 Perf. What happened then ? 
 
 Fred. I got wet all over. 
 
 Perf. Well, I suppose that it rained. 
 
 Fred. No, not that. Some say ihat it was perspiration. 
 
 Perf. And was it that? 
 
 Fred. No; I guess that it was dish-water. 
 
 Perf. Now, Freddy, supposing that a man were to dig down deep 
 into the earth, what would he come to? 
 
 Fred. To dirt. 
 
 Perf. But supposing that he were to dig down through the earth ? 
 
 Fred. He would come out of the hole. 
 
 Perf. How is your aunty ? 
 
 Fred. She has the chills and shakes at four o'clock every afternoon. 
 
 Perf. She has ? • 
 
 Fred. Yes; and I wish that she would shake out the half-dollar she 
 promised me. 4 
 
 Perf. Now, Joey and Freddy, do you see that trunk ? 
 
 Joey. I do. Is any one in there ? 
 
 Perf. Yes; a little girl. 
 
 Fred. Oh, do put me in there ! 
 
 (Performer places them in the trunk; a hushed voice is heard from Joey 
 complaining that Freddy will not give him any room. As the Performer 
 opens the box, voice is suddenly increased in depth of tone; he closes it; 
 the voices are again heard m a subdued tone, until they quiet themselves. 
 The Performer, making a slight bow, draws the trunk off the stage.) 
 
 For full description and prices of the Ventriloquial Champions, see pages 58 
 and 50 of Judd's Illustrated Catalogue, mailed by him for 15 cents. On page 
 78 will be found a Price List of Punch and Judy properties sold by him. 
 
OF PUNCH AND JUDY. 77 
 
 A YOUNG LADY'S CONVERSATION. 
 
 Enter Pketty Poll. 
 
 " How do you do ? I was just going into the garden wher papa 
 said you were here; and, of course, it doesn't do to keep company, it's 
 so rude. I'm sixteen to-day, and have just left school, and everybody 
 says I've made such rapid progress as regards my education. Do you 
 know they all say I've grown so tall lately? Well, I wouldn't have 
 any objections to that if it wasn't for one reason, and that is— Well, 
 I hardly like to tell you the reason, either; but I have a young man, 
 and his name's Julius, and he's so awfully short himself his head 
 hardly comes above my shoulder; but then, you know, half a loaf's 
 better than no bread, and a short young man's better than none at all. 
 Talking of Julius, I will tell you something. The other evening we were 
 strolling up-town together, and Julius is awfully generous— he'd give 
 me anything. Said he to me, 'Adelina, supposing I was to offer you 
 a present, would you accept one?' Says I, 'Oh, certainly!' Accord- 
 ingly we went into a store together, and while we were looking at the 
 things, what should the young man do who stood behind the counter, 
 but he came all the way round, took Julius by the shoulder. 'There,' 
 says he, 'leave the things alone, and let your mamma pick what she 
 likes/ Oh! I was awfully confused, and poor Julius, he didn't know 
 which way to look. But when I got my present, what do you think 
 that was? Oh, such a splendid pair of new shoes! But when I got 
 home I found the young shopman had made such a foolish mistake* — 
 he'd wrapped up eights, and everybody knows I only take twos." 
 
PEICE LIST 
 
 OF 
 
 Punch and Judy Properties, 
 
 PUNCH AND HIS PRETTY POLL. 
 
 PUNCH AND JUDY FIGURES, 
 
 Handsomely dressed, all characters, each $1.25. 
 
 As it is very essential that the figures and all apparatus should be perfect and complete, Prof. 
 Judd calls attention to the fact that he manufactures and finishes in the most approved style 
 the following 
 
 BEST DRESSED FIGURES, WITH SOLID WOODEN HEADS. 
 
 Old Nick, . 
 . 1 25 Foreigner, 
 
 Arabella, 
 . 1 25 Lawyer, . 
 
 Punch's Dog, 
 . 1 25 Horse, . 
 
 Crocodile, . 
 . 1 25 Judge's Bench, 
 
 Prisoner's Pen, . 
 . 1 25 Bedstead, 
 
 Bed and Pillow, . 
 . 1 25 Lawyer's Table, 
 Superior Punch and Judy Theatres, made portable for traveling, fitted with a Stage, Perform- 
 ing Shelf and Covering, Complete $12 00 
 
 Goods sent by Express, on receipt of Cash, or C. O. D. (cash on delivery), on your enclosing to 
 me one-quarter of the full amount, the remaining three-quarters to be paid to the Expressman 
 When he delivers the goods to you. Address all orders to 
 
 FHOFESSOR. "W-- O". *TXTX>I3, 
 
 MAGICAL REPOSITORY, 
 
 131 HENRY ST., NEW YORK CITY. 
 
 7S 
 
 Punch, 
 
 . SI 25 
 
 Judy, 
 
 . 1 25 
 
 Pretty Poll, 
 
 1 25 
 
 Doctor, . 
 
 . 1 25 
 
 Policeman, . 
 
 1 25 
 
 Clown, . 
 
 . 1 25 
 
 Jack Ketch, 
 
 . 1 25 
 
 Scaramouch, 
 
 . 1 25 
 
 Opera Singer, 
 
 1 25 
 
 Darkie, , 
 
 . 1 25 
 
 Irishman, . 
 
 1 25 
 
 Dutchman, 
 
 . 1 25 
 
 $1 25 
 
 Punch's $25,000 Box, . $2 00 
 
 1 25 
 
 Steamer and Ship, . . 2 50 
 
 1 25 
 
 Ship 1 75 
 
 1 25 
 
 Skeleton Mouth, Movable, 2 00 
 
 1 50 
 
 Ghost 1 25 
 
 1 50 
 
 Gallows 1 00 
 
 175 
 
 Coffin 1 00 
 
 175 
 
 Snake, . . . 1 25 
 
 1 75 
 
 Servant's Bell, . . 50 
 
 1 75 
 
 Baby 50 
 
 50 
 
 Squeakers, 25c, solid sil'r, 1 00 
 
 75 
 
 Club, .... 10 
 
THE ROYAL MARIONETTES. 
 
 HARLEQUIN. PANTALOON. DOCTOR. SCARAMOUCH. 
 
 Our Artist has given us Illustrations of four of the 
 Leading Marionette Puppets. They are of peculiar con- 
 struction, and differ from the Punch and Judy Troupe in 
 that the Performer is standing over instead of beneath 
 them. They are worked by each having five or more in- 
 visible silken cords, terminating in an instrument held 
 in the hands of the Performer. Their feet, hands and 
 head go through all the life-like motions of living actors. 
 The smallest are twenty -four inches, and the largest 
 made are forty -two inches in height. Pkofessor Judd 
 of New York, who manufactures and has them in stock, 
 will give you all further information and furnish the 
 particulars concerning their cost. 
 
ismwfn 
 
 A MANUAL OF MYSTICAL MYSTERIES, 
 
 FW the Pmtlm 9 Mhml mmdl Mmwimg^Bmm, 
 
 WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIVE DIAGRAMS. 
 
 If, as Butler insinuates, 
 
 "The pleasure is aa great 
 Of being cheated as to cheat," 
 
 the life of a Prestidigitator must be a pleasant one ; and to enable any one to realize 
 the fact, we, in this volume, present the key to the "Mystical Mysteries," whereby 
 any boy, of an ingenious turn of mind, can amuse and astound his friends, school- 
 fellows and neighbors. 
 
 Annexed we give a list of a 
 
 PORTION OF THE CONTENTS. 
 
 Magic Plums, Self Balancing, 
 
 Sea of Ink, Chameleon Trick, 
 
 Vanishing Seed, Arab in the Air, 
 
 Magic Candles, Hope Trick, 
 
 New Ribbon Manufactory, Changing Fruit, 
 
 Magic Telegraph, Enchanted Coin, 
 
 Tricks with Eggs, Mystic Tea Caddies, 
 
 Invisible Courier, Japanese Butterflies, 
 
 Iron Hand, Erratic Knaves, 
 
 Flying Knife, Etc., Etc., Etc. 
 
 Price 30 Cents* 
 
 -«> — ^ • g>» — o- 
 
 iz:A-2>tjd~ book: 
 
 Being- a Systematic Compendium of the necessary Rules for attaining* Proficiency 
 in Reading- and Speaking*. With oopious and interesting examples. 
 
 This treatise on Elocution and Oratory has been prepared with a strict regard to 
 practical utility, by a favorite tragedienne of the stage. By attention to its rules the 
 learner may rapidly acquire the art of reading aloud with due emphasis, and of 
 expressing himself in a set speech, or a recitation, with propriety. Though chiefly 
 designed for social purposes, it will also prove a safe guide for those who wish to 
 establish a well founded professional reputation, either as readers, speakers, or actors. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Preliminary Remarks on the Leading Principles of Elocution. 
 X^raT SECOIVD.-Beading. 
 
 Family Beading. Public Reading. 
 
 Table Oratory. After Dinner Speeches. 
 
 Wedding Breakfast Speeches. 
 
 Verse. 
 
 Funeral Orations. 
 
 THIRD. 
 
 The Bar. 
 
 The Pulpit. 
 
 The Stage. Conclusion. 
 
 £***ioe 30 Cents. 
 
 Eloontioii. 
 
 Parliamentary. 
 
 The Lecture Desk. 
 The Platform. 
 
 Either of the above will be sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of the priee. 
 
 H T. ~ i~ T ^ 
 
 
RECITERS, GUIDE BOOKS, ETC. 
 
 Actor's Art, The, Price • • • 13 cts. 
 
 Amateur's Guide, The, Price • ! 25 cts. 
 
 Arnold's Dialogues, Plays and Speeches, Price 30 cts. 
 
 Arnold's Dutch Recitations and Readings, Price 15 cts. 
 
 Art of Public Speaking, The, Price 25 cts. 
 
 Darkey Plays, six parts, Price, per part 30 cts. 
 
 Drawing Room Magic, Price 30 cts. 
 
 Elocution Without a Master, Price 15 cts. 
 
 Evening Entertainments, Price - 15 cts. 
 
 Hand-Book of Elocution and Oratory, Price 30 cts. 
 
 Holiday Guest, The, Price 10 cts. 
 
 How to Join a Circus, Price- - -. ^25 cts. 
 
 How we Managed Our Private Theatricals, Price- • 25 cts. 
 
 Little Plays for Little People, Price 30 cts. 
 
 McBride's Comic Speeches and Recitations, Price 30 cts. 
 
 McBride's Humorous Dialogues, Price 30 cts. 
 
 McBride's Temperance Dialogues, Price- 30 cts. 
 
 Minstrel Gags and End Men's Hand-Eook, Price • 30 cts. 
 
 Parlor Amusements for the Young Folks, Price- • • 30 cts. 
 
 Parlor Tableaux, Price 25 cts. 
 
 Plays for Young People, Price- 30 cts. 
 
 Punch and Judy, Price 25 cts. 
 
 Shadow Pantomimes, Price 25 cts. 
 
 Shakespeare Proverbs, Price 25 cts. 
 
 Speechiana, Price 30 cts. 
 
 Stump Speaker, The, Price 15 cts. 
 
 Either of the above will be sent by mail, on receipt of price, by 
 
 HAPPY HOURS COMPANY, 
 
 No. 5 Beekman Street, New York.