Alhambra. But there’s only one song in Toto that comes -within measurable distance of these two specimens.
Then, we can’t help calling to mind that, at the Strand, it was Kate Santley who played Toto—it was written for her—that Marius was Prince Doro, and comic little Hakiiy Cox was the
burlesque King Portico, with such a funny dance ! But in the present cast, the only two central figures are Mr. Bishop as Prince Caramel, and Miss Annie Poole as Jelly, who, from the name, might have been excused for being a little snaky, but she wasn’t.
The piece is magnificently put on the stage, though a crowd of splendid dresses does not compensate for a scarcity of pretty faces,
and really, except perhaps Mr. Lobedan, who is a very pretty tenor, and “acts as sich, there is nobody much to look at, which we hold
to be a distinct defect in the composition of a light and airy Opera Comique Company.
The Opera itself suffers from too much dialogue — immensely funny is most of it—and too little music. It is more an extra
vagantly comic play with occasional musical illustrations—in fact,
a development of a German-Reed entertainment—than the sort of Comic Opera which nowadays we expect from such a librettist and such a composer.
All the Prince Caramel scenes, where Mr. Bishop thoroughly enters into Mr. Gxlbebt’s humour, are excellent. But these gain
nothing from the musio, and depend solely on the dialogue and absurd situations. The hit of the piece is the “ Hiawatha Speech ” in the Third Act, capitally given by Mr. George Temple, which is
likely to be enthusiastically encored every night—a proof of how an audience thoroughly appreciates genuine burlesque.
The piece achieved a distinct success the first night of its revival, and will probably have a considerable run.
When the Sorcerer was being performed,
in which piece the Vicar used to sing about the “ Pale Young Curate,” a number of Stalls used to be nightly filled by Clergymen who delighted in this character ; and now that there is a Clay there, the Churchwardens will be attracted.
The Smile of Beauty.
Last night brilliant beyond measure
Lovely Lapba’s spirits were;
Say, what gave her so much pleasure ? Oh—her husband wasn’t there !
take notice.
“ How to Impbove London ” will, we hope, be continued next week. From information received we fancy “ The Peri-Patetic ” has been taking off some of the statues. If so, he will have to keep out of the way for a few days.
General Opinion of the Premier.— He went for the trees at Hawarden with his axe last Saturday week. Never knew such a feller I ”
THE STORY OE A STOWAWAY!
Come, my lad, and sit beside me; we have often talked before
Of the hurricane and tempest, and the storms on Bea and shore : When we read of deeds of daring, done for dear old England’s sake, We have cited Nelson’s duty, and the enterprise of Drake ;
Midst the fever’d din of battle, roll of drum, and scream of fife, Heroes pass in long procession, calmly yielding up their life.
Pomps and pageants have their glory, in cathedral aisles are seen Marble effigies; but seldom of the mercantile marine.
If your playmates love adventure, bid them gather round at school Whilst you tell them of a hero, Captain Strachan of Liverpool.
Spite of storm and stress of weather, in a gale that lash’d the land, On the Cyprian screw steamer, there the Captain took his stand. He was no fair-weather sailor, and he often made the boast
That the ocean safer sheltered, than the wild Carnarvon coast. He’d a good ship underneath him, and a crew of English form, So he sailed from out the Mersey in the hurricane and storm.
All the luck was dead against him—with the tempest at its height, Fires expired, and rudders parted, in the middle of the night
Sails were torn and rent asunder. Then he spoke with bated breath : “ Save yourselves, my gallant fellows! we are drifting to our death! ”
Then they looked at one another, and they felt the awful shock,
When, with louder crash than tempest, they were dashed upon a rock. All was over now and hopeless; but across those miles of foam
They could hear tho shouts of people, and could see the lights of
home. “ All is over! ” screamed the Captain. “ You have answered duty’s
call.
Save yourselves! I cannot help you ! God have mercy on us all! ” So they rushed about like madmen, seizing belt, and oar, and rope—
For the.sailor knows where life is, there’s the faintest ray of hope— Then, amidst the wild confusion, at the dreaded dawn of day,
From the hold of that doomed vessel crept a wretched Stowaway! Who shall tell the saddened story of this miserable lad ?
Was it wild adventure stirred him, was he going to the bad ? Was he thief, or bully’s victim, or a runaway from school,
When he stole that fatal passage from the port of Liverpool ? No one looked at him, or kicked him, ’midst the paralysing roar All alone he felt the danger, and he saw the distant shore.
Over went the gallant fellows, when the ship was breaking fast, And the Captain with his lifebelt—he prepared to follow last; But he saw a boy neglected, with a face of ashy grey,
“Who are you?” roared out the Captain. “I’m the boy what stow’d away! ”
There was scarce another second left to think what he could do, For the fatal ship was sinking—Death was ready for the two.
So the Captain called the outcast, as he faced the tempest wild,
From his own waist took the life-belt—and he bound it round the
child 1
“ I can swim, my little fellow! Take the belt, and make for land. Up, and save yourself! ” The outcast humbly knelt to kiss his hand. With the lifebelt round his body then the urchin cleared the ship; Over went the gallant Captain, with a blessing on his lip.
But the hurricane howled louder than it ever howled before,
As the Captain and the Stowaway were making for the shore! When you tell this gallant story to your playfellows at school,
They will ask you of the hero—Captain Strachan, of Liverpool. You must answer—They discovered, on the beach at break of day, Safe—the battered, breathing body of the little Stowaway ;
And they watched the waves of wreckage, and they searched the
cruel shore,
But the man who tried to save the little outcast—was no more. ******
When they speak of English heroes, tell this story where you can, To the everlasting credit of the bravery of man,
Tell it out in tones of triumph, or with tears and quickened breath, “Manhood’s stronger far than storms, and Love is mightier than Death! ”
YORKSHIRE RELISH.
Since Mr. Gladstone’s triumphant visit to Leeds, the proprietors of a popular Yorkshire “ pick-me-up” propose to call it the “ Glad
stone.” The Tory papers say that Yorkshire Sauce is “just like his impudence.”
Song SUGGESTED BY THE TRANSVAAL AND THE LAND LEAGUE.—
“ When toe were Boers together.”
A Bishop s Charge—“ Go and bo Washed! ” Not a Mere-sham, but a Clay that’ll draw; so
we ’U giro him a puff,—for once.
Then, we can’t help calling to mind that, at the Strand, it was Kate Santley who played Toto—it was written for her—that Marius was Prince Doro, and comic little Hakiiy Cox was the
burlesque King Portico, with such a funny dance ! But in the present cast, the only two central figures are Mr. Bishop as Prince Caramel, and Miss Annie Poole as Jelly, who, from the name, might have been excused for being a little snaky, but she wasn’t.
The piece is magnificently put on the stage, though a crowd of splendid dresses does not compensate for a scarcity of pretty faces,
and really, except perhaps Mr. Lobedan, who is a very pretty tenor, and “acts as sich, there is nobody much to look at, which we hold
to be a distinct defect in the composition of a light and airy Opera Comique Company.
The Opera itself suffers from too much dialogue — immensely funny is most of it—and too little music. It is more an extra
vagantly comic play with occasional musical illustrations—in fact,
a development of a German-Reed entertainment—than the sort of Comic Opera which nowadays we expect from such a librettist and such a composer.
All the Prince Caramel scenes, where Mr. Bishop thoroughly enters into Mr. Gxlbebt’s humour, are excellent. But these gain
nothing from the musio, and depend solely on the dialogue and absurd situations. The hit of the piece is the “ Hiawatha Speech ” in the Third Act, capitally given by Mr. George Temple, which is
likely to be enthusiastically encored every night—a proof of how an audience thoroughly appreciates genuine burlesque.
The piece achieved a distinct success the first night of its revival, and will probably have a considerable run.
When the Sorcerer was being performed,
in which piece the Vicar used to sing about the “ Pale Young Curate,” a number of Stalls used to be nightly filled by Clergymen who delighted in this character ; and now that there is a Clay there, the Churchwardens will be attracted.
The Smile of Beauty.
Last night brilliant beyond measure
Lovely Lapba’s spirits were;
Say, what gave her so much pleasure ? Oh—her husband wasn’t there !
take notice.
“ How to Impbove London ” will, we hope, be continued next week. From information received we fancy “ The Peri-Patetic ” has been taking off some of the statues. If so, he will have to keep out of the way for a few days.
General Opinion of the Premier.— He went for the trees at Hawarden with his axe last Saturday week. Never knew such a feller I ”
THE STORY OE A STOWAWAY!
Come, my lad, and sit beside me; we have often talked before
Of the hurricane and tempest, and the storms on Bea and shore : When we read of deeds of daring, done for dear old England’s sake, We have cited Nelson’s duty, and the enterprise of Drake ;
Midst the fever’d din of battle, roll of drum, and scream of fife, Heroes pass in long procession, calmly yielding up their life.
Pomps and pageants have their glory, in cathedral aisles are seen Marble effigies; but seldom of the mercantile marine.
If your playmates love adventure, bid them gather round at school Whilst you tell them of a hero, Captain Strachan of Liverpool.
Spite of storm and stress of weather, in a gale that lash’d the land, On the Cyprian screw steamer, there the Captain took his stand. He was no fair-weather sailor, and he often made the boast
That the ocean safer sheltered, than the wild Carnarvon coast. He’d a good ship underneath him, and a crew of English form, So he sailed from out the Mersey in the hurricane and storm.
All the luck was dead against him—with the tempest at its height, Fires expired, and rudders parted, in the middle of the night
Sails were torn and rent asunder. Then he spoke with bated breath : “ Save yourselves, my gallant fellows! we are drifting to our death! ”
Then they looked at one another, and they felt the awful shock,
When, with louder crash than tempest, they were dashed upon a rock. All was over now and hopeless; but across those miles of foam
They could hear tho shouts of people, and could see the lights of
home. “ All is over! ” screamed the Captain. “ You have answered duty’s
call.
Save yourselves! I cannot help you ! God have mercy on us all! ” So they rushed about like madmen, seizing belt, and oar, and rope—
For the.sailor knows where life is, there’s the faintest ray of hope— Then, amidst the wild confusion, at the dreaded dawn of day,
From the hold of that doomed vessel crept a wretched Stowaway! Who shall tell the saddened story of this miserable lad ?
Was it wild adventure stirred him, was he going to the bad ? Was he thief, or bully’s victim, or a runaway from school,
When he stole that fatal passage from the port of Liverpool ? No one looked at him, or kicked him, ’midst the paralysing roar All alone he felt the danger, and he saw the distant shore.
Over went the gallant fellows, when the ship was breaking fast, And the Captain with his lifebelt—he prepared to follow last; But he saw a boy neglected, with a face of ashy grey,
“Who are you?” roared out the Captain. “I’m the boy what stow’d away! ”
There was scarce another second left to think what he could do, For the fatal ship was sinking—Death was ready for the two.
So the Captain called the outcast, as he faced the tempest wild,
From his own waist took the life-belt—and he bound it round the
child 1
“ I can swim, my little fellow! Take the belt, and make for land. Up, and save yourself! ” The outcast humbly knelt to kiss his hand. With the lifebelt round his body then the urchin cleared the ship; Over went the gallant Captain, with a blessing on his lip.
But the hurricane howled louder than it ever howled before,
As the Captain and the Stowaway were making for the shore! When you tell this gallant story to your playfellows at school,
They will ask you of the hero—Captain Strachan, of Liverpool. You must answer—They discovered, on the beach at break of day, Safe—the battered, breathing body of the little Stowaway ;
And they watched the waves of wreckage, and they searched the
cruel shore,
But the man who tried to save the little outcast—was no more. ******
When they speak of English heroes, tell this story where you can, To the everlasting credit of the bravery of man,
Tell it out in tones of triumph, or with tears and quickened breath, “Manhood’s stronger far than storms, and Love is mightier than Death! ”
YORKSHIRE RELISH.
Since Mr. Gladstone’s triumphant visit to Leeds, the proprietors of a popular Yorkshire “ pick-me-up” propose to call it the “ Glad
stone.” The Tory papers say that Yorkshire Sauce is “just like his impudence.”
Song SUGGESTED BY THE TRANSVAAL AND THE LAND LEAGUE.—
“ When toe were Boers together.”
A Bishop s Charge—“ Go and bo Washed! ” Not a Mere-sham, but a Clay that’ll draw; so
we ’U giro him a puff,—for once.