TRYING IT ON.
Scene A Laboratory. Enter, in search of mischief , Master George Elliot and Master Jem Lowtheb, the latter a “pickle ” of the purest type.
Master George (chuckling). Oh ! here we are again !
Master Jem (pirouetting). “All among ’em once more,” as old Dabs the fisherman says when he drops upon a school of roach.
Master George. Didn’t expect to have a chance again so soon. What larks, eh i
Master Jem. Rather! But what shall we be up to now we are here ?
Master George. Let’s nail tip the globe so that it won’t turn ! Master Jem. And paint the map of England all blue !
Master George. And put wrong figures into those reckoning-tables! Master Jem. Mix up the chemicals, and raise glorious stinks.
Master George. Pop a spider into the telescope, or pour treacle down the microscope I
Master Jem (dissatisfied). Ah ! but we’ve done all that over and over again. Getting slow, don’t you know. Can’t we hit upon some lovely new lark ?
Master George. Explosions are good fun.
Muster Jem. Yes—if you don’t Mow yourself up. I did last time 1 tried, and it wasn’t nice. Blew me bang out of my seat; and what With that and the birching I got—oh, my !-----
Pantomimic demonstration d posteriori.
Master George. \V ell, but we must do something.
Master Jem. Something that’ll rile old Gladdy, and upset his arrangements and calculations and things. He’s out now—won’t be back for ever so long, so now’s our time.
Master George. But how about old Staley p He’s knocking round somewhere, I’m sure.
Master Jem [grinning). Oh, him ! Who’s afraid of him ? Ask Ba.niiy Churchill. Besides, I don’t believe he half dislikes a bit
of a bust-up, so long as you don’t tell him beforehand ! ! !
Master George. Well, perhaps not. But what shall it bo ?
Master Jem [musing). Let—me—see. Oh, I have it. Twig that old Mummy there P
Master George. Yes. What of it ?
Master Jem. Let’s give it a shock with the Electrical Machine !
Master George. Why, what’s the good of that ? It’s as dead as Pharaoh and all his host.
Master Jem. Is it P How do you know? Did you never read Edgar Poe’s tale about the Galvanised Mummy ?
Master George [dubiously). Ye-e-s. But that’s only a story, don’t you know.
Master Jem [derisively). Story? Well, you arc a prosy chap! \\ ouldn t dear old Dizzy have been down upon you for pooh-poohing stories P Don t know what you can do till you try, even with a Mummy.
Master George. Well, I’m game; only it does look so dreadfully dead. Even Dizzy said so.
Master Jem. Dead! AVhat does that matter if we can only make it look alive—even for a little while P Do splendidly for a Bogey, anyhow.
Master George. By Jove! It would be a lark, eh ?
Master Jem. I should say so. Lor! it ’d be the making of us with our lot, and regularly dumfog those other fellows who are so cocky
with their Gospel according to Cocker, and their facts and figures and things.
blaster George. Splendid! And won’t it scare old Gladdy if it begins to stir, and make a horrid noise, and roll its eyes about, just as if it were alive, don’t you know P
Master Jem. 1 believe you, my boy. Come, let’s fix the wires and grind away like winking.
Master George. Right you are ! Hooray ! Hoo-----ah ! but I say, suppose the confounded thing were to—ahem ! were to come alive
again, really, and no larks, like, like that horrid Frankenstein thing, you know. Awkward for us, eh ? [Hesitates.)
Master Jem [recklessly). Boh! Who’s afraid? Go it blind and fast, is my motto. Let’s wire in! [ They do.
“ Old Stuffy” [behind). Humph! Wild lads. Rather rash experiment. Suppose 1 ought to interfere. But—/ wonder how it will turn
out. Think I ’ll wait a bit and see. [ Waits a bit—and will see.
A Trio—Imagine the delight of Gog and Magog at hearing that one of the new Sheriffs is to be Alderman Ogg. Ogg, the Kinsr of Basin-of-Turtle.
MAKING THE BEST OF IT.
Scene A Laboratory. Enter, in search of mischief , Master George Elliot and Master Jem Lowtheb, the latter a “pickle ” of the purest type.
Master George (chuckling). Oh ! here we are again !
Master Jem (pirouetting). “All among ’em once more,” as old Dabs the fisherman says when he drops upon a school of roach.
Master George. Didn’t expect to have a chance again so soon. What larks, eh i
Master Jem. Rather! But what shall we be up to now we are here ?
Master George. Let’s nail tip the globe so that it won’t turn ! Master Jem. And paint the map of England all blue !
Master George. And put wrong figures into those reckoning-tables! Master Jem. Mix up the chemicals, and raise glorious stinks.
Master George. Pop a spider into the telescope, or pour treacle down the microscope I
Master Jem (dissatisfied). Ah ! but we’ve done all that over and over again. Getting slow, don’t you know. Can’t we hit upon some lovely new lark ?
Master George. Explosions are good fun.
Muster Jem. Yes—if you don’t Mow yourself up. I did last time 1 tried, and it wasn’t nice. Blew me bang out of my seat; and what With that and the birching I got—oh, my !-----
Pantomimic demonstration d posteriori.
Master George. \V ell, but we must do something.
Master Jem. Something that’ll rile old Gladdy, and upset his arrangements and calculations and things. He’s out now—won’t be back for ever so long, so now’s our time.
Master George. But how about old Staley p He’s knocking round somewhere, I’m sure.
Master Jem [grinning). Oh, him ! Who’s afraid of him ? Ask Ba.niiy Churchill. Besides, I don’t believe he half dislikes a bit
of a bust-up, so long as you don’t tell him beforehand ! ! !
Master George. Well, perhaps not. But what shall it bo ?
Master Jem [musing). Let—me—see. Oh, I have it. Twig that old Mummy there P
Master George. Yes. What of it ?
Master Jem. Let’s give it a shock with the Electrical Machine !
Master George. Why, what’s the good of that ? It’s as dead as Pharaoh and all his host.
Master Jem. Is it P How do you know? Did you never read Edgar Poe’s tale about the Galvanised Mummy ?
Master George [dubiously). Ye-e-s. But that’s only a story, don’t you know.
Master Jem [derisively). Story? Well, you arc a prosy chap! \\ ouldn t dear old Dizzy have been down upon you for pooh-poohing stories P Don t know what you can do till you try, even with a Mummy.
Master George. Well, I’m game; only it does look so dreadfully dead. Even Dizzy said so.
Master Jem. Dead! AVhat does that matter if we can only make it look alive—even for a little while P Do splendidly for a Bogey, anyhow.
Master George. By Jove! It would be a lark, eh ?
Master Jem. I should say so. Lor! it ’d be the making of us with our lot, and regularly dumfog those other fellows who are so cocky
with their Gospel according to Cocker, and their facts and figures and things.
blaster George. Splendid! And won’t it scare old Gladdy if it begins to stir, and make a horrid noise, and roll its eyes about, just as if it were alive, don’t you know P
Master Jem. 1 believe you, my boy. Come, let’s fix the wires and grind away like winking.
Master George. Right you are ! Hooray ! Hoo-----ah ! but I say, suppose the confounded thing were to—ahem ! were to come alive
again, really, and no larks, like, like that horrid Frankenstein thing, you know. Awkward for us, eh ? [Hesitates.)
Master Jem [recklessly). Boh! Who’s afraid? Go it blind and fast, is my motto. Let’s wire in! [ They do.
“ Old Stuffy” [behind). Humph! Wild lads. Rather rash experiment. Suppose 1 ought to interfere. But—/ wonder how it will turn
out. Think I ’ll wait a bit and see. [ Waits a bit—and will see.
A Trio—Imagine the delight of Gog and Magog at hearing that one of the new Sheriffs is to be Alderman Ogg. Ogg, the Kinsr of Basin-of-Turtle.
MAKING THE BEST OF IT.