A FIRE-SIDE PANTOMIME FOR GREAT AND SMALL CHILDREN.
BY MR. M. A. TITMARSH
PRELUDE
It happened that the undersigned spent the last Christmas season in a foreign city where there were many English children.
In that city, if you wanted to give a child's party, you could not even get a magic-lantern or buy Twelfth-Night characters--those funny painted pictures of the King, the Queen, the Lover, the Lady, the Dandy, the Captain, and so on--with which our young ones are wont to recreate themselves at this festive time.
My friend Miss Bunch, who was governess of a large family that lived in the Piano Nobile of the house inhabited by myself and my young charges (it was the Palazzo Poniatowski at Rome, and Messrs.
Spillmann, two of the best pastry-cooks in Christendom, have their shop on the ground floor): Miss Bunch, I say, begged me to draw a set of Twelfth-Night characters for the amusement of our young people.
She is a lady of great fancy and droll imagination, and having looked at the characters, she and I composed a history about them, which was recited to the little folks at night, and served as our FIRE-SIDE PANTOMIME.
Our juvenile audience was amused by the adventures of Giglio and Bulbo, Rosalba and Angelica. I am bound to say the fate of the Hall Porter created a considerable sensation; and the wrath of Countess Gruffanuff was received with extreme pleasure.
If these children are pleased, thought I, why should not others be amused also? In a few days Dr. Birch's young friends will be expected to reassemble at Rodwell Regis, where they will learn everything that is useful, and under the eyes of careful ushers continue the business of their little lives.
But, in the meanwhile, and for a brief holiday, let us laugh and be as pleasant as we can. And you elder folk--a little joking, and dancing, and fooling will do even you no harm. The author wishes you a merry Christmas, and welcomes you to the Fire-side Pantomime.
M. A. TITMARSH.
December 1854.
THE ROSE AND THE RING
I. SHOWS HOW THE ROYAL FAMILY SAT DOWN TO BREAKFASTThis is Valoroso XXIV., King of Paflagonia, seated with his Queen and only child at their royal breakfast-table, and receiving the letter which announces to his Majesty a proposed visit from Prince Bulbo, heir of Padella, reigning King of Crim Tartary. Remark the delight upon the monarch's royal features. He is so absorbed in the perusal of the King of Crim Tartary's letter, that he allows his eggs to get cold, and leaves his august muffins untasted.
"What! that wicked, brave, delightful Prince Bulbo!" cries Princess Angelica; "so handsome, so accomplished, so witty--the conqueror of Rimbombamento, where he slew ten thousand giants!""Who told you of him, my dear?" asks his Majesty.
"A little bird," says Angelica.
"Poor Giglio!" says mamma, pouring out the tea.
"Bother Giglio!" cries Angelica, tossing up her head, which rustled with a thousand curl-papers.
"I wish," growls the King--"I wish Giglio was. . .""Was better? Yes, dear, he is better," says the Queen.
"Angelica's little maid, Betsinda, told me so when she came to my room this morning with my early tea.""You are always drinking tea," said the monarch, with a scowl.
"It is better than drinking port or brandy-and-water," replies her Majesty.
"Well, well, my dear, I only said you were fond of drinking tea,"said the King of Paflagonia, with an effort as if to command his temper. "Angelica! I hope you have plenty of new dresses; your milliners' bills are long enough. My dear Queen, you must see and have some parties. I prefer dinners, but of course you will be for balls. Your everlasting blue velvet quite tires me: and, my love, I should like you to have a new necklace. Order one. Not more than a hundred or a hundred and fifty thousand pounds.""And Giglio, dear?" says the Queen.
"GIGLIO MAY GO TO THE ----"
"Oh, sir!" screams her Majesty. "Your own nephew! our late King's only son.""Giglio may go to the tailor's, and order the bills to be sent in to Glumboso to pay. Confound him! I mean bless his dear heart.
He need want for nothing; give him a couple of guineas for pocket-money, my dear; and you may as well order yourself bracelets while you are about the necklace, Mrs. V."Her Majesty, or MRS. V., as the monarch facetiously called her (for even royalty will have its sport, and this august family were very much attached), embraced her husband, and, twining her arm round her daughter's waist, they quitted the breakfast-room in order to make all things ready for the princely stranger.
When they were gone, the smile that had lighted up the eyes of the HUSBAND and FATHER fled--the pride of the KING fled--the MAN was alone. Had I the pen of a G. P. R. James, I would describe Valoroso's torments in the choicest language; in which I would also depict his flashing eye, his distended nostril--his dressing-gown, pocket-handkerchief, and boots. But I need not say I have NOT the pen of that novelist; suffice it to say, Valoroso was alone.
