The Art of Amusing Part 23

CATASTROPHE.

A CHARADE IN FOUR ACTS.

ACT I.

CAT.

_Dramatis Personae_, CAT.

DOG.

OLD GENTLEMAN.

SCENE--_Backyard of city house, with small table placed on top of other table, to represent window._

Enter cat (head done up in brown paper, with cat's face painted on it, brown paper ears, tail made out of lady's boa, black silk handkerchief, or any suitable thing).

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Cat commences to _meow_ and caterwaul. Old gentleman appears at window with nightcap on and sheet wrapped round him, and shakes his fist at cat. Cat continues to make a noise.

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Old gentleman gets very angry, shakes both his fists, withdraws into room, reappears with hair-brush, which he throws at cat. Cat continues to make a noise. Old gentleman commences a fusilade of boots, books, combs, and toilet articles generally. Cat makes more noise than ever, putting up her back and spitting at the objects as they fell around her.

The old gentleman is almost in despair, when suddenly a bright idea strikes him, which he expresses by pantomime, placing his finger to the side of his nose and winking. He disappears from the window. Presently is heard the rattling of a chain and barking of a dog.

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Enter dog, barking furiously, and pursues cat out of yard. Old gentleman rubs his hands with glee, and pats dog on head. Dog frisks about.

ACT II

a.s.s.

_Dramatis Personae_, a.s.s.

RAG AND SOAP-FAT MAN.

SERVANT GIRL.

SCENE--_Public Street._

Enter rag and soap-fat man dragging donkey after him. Donkey dragging cart made of chair with bandbox-lid wheels, cart filled with odds and ends of tinware, old rags, etc. Donkey very obstinate; driver beats him with roll of stiff paper. Servant hails soap-fat man and offers for sale several large jarsful of drippings, sheets, pillow-cases, etc., belonging to her mistress. They chaffer for some time over the bargain, but finally agree upon a price. The money (all copper pennies) is about to change hands when the donkey, close by, gives an unearthly bray, which, to their guilty consciences, sounds like the voice of some avenging spirit; both scream, drop the money on the floor, and rush off; donkey turns round and runs off too.

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ACT III.

TROPHY.

_Dramatis Personae_, SOLDIERS.

SCENE--_A camp, tents made of sheets hung over chairs, etc._

Enter soldiers, leading prisoners, and bearing ragged and shot-torn flag on broomstick, band playing trumpets (sheets of music rolled up), and beating drums (tin pails); they halt and form in line; the officer, by suitable gestures, calls attention to the trophy.

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Enter general and staff. General makes a speech, pointing to the trophy, and then decorates their captain by pinning a medal (a circular soda-cracker fastened to a bit of red ribbon will do) on his breast. All strike an att.i.tude, and the scene closes.

ACT IV.

CATASTROPHE.

_Dramatis Personae_, GENTLEMEN.

LADIES.

HORSES AND POLICEMEN.

SCENE--_Central Park._

A superb carriage, made out of the lounge with bandbox-lid wheels, and drawn by a span of spirited bay gentleman, is discovered; an elegant youth is seated on the box driving, whilst the carriage is filled with a gay and festive party of youthful ladies and gentlemen.

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Presently the horses become restive, plunge wildly about, and, in spite of all the efforts of the driver, dash the vehicle against a post; the inmates scream and tumble out. Enter two policemen, who seize the horses, put the driver on his legs, and carry the rest of the party to the hospital on stretchers made of the clothes-horse.

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CHAPTER XXVIII.

Those tranquil moods to which allusion has already been made on several occasions, have now become a decided feature in our character. There is certainly something very charming in the society of well-bred women.

However, we hope before long we need not be forced from home to find that enjoyment. We have discovered the object of Nix's recent gifts of Brahminical works. It was a ponderous roundabout species of humor peculiar to Nix, the works in question being supposed to furnish appropriate study for a person in our presumed position as admirer of Bud (or Boodh).

Nix has for some time past made himself very wearisome with continual allusions to Vishnu, Siva, Buddhism, and so forth. We gained one idea, however, from his jest. We have written a Hindoo play, the plot of which turns on the love of a devout Brahmin. The play is entirely finished save the last act, which is complete up to the point where Neer Je Haun declares his love for the Unblown Rose.

THE LAST ACT OF THE PLAY.

We took our play to the Adams' to-night, and told Bud that it was nearly completed, but we were in some embarra.s.sment how to conclude it. We had consequently come to consult her on the subject, begging at the same time she would give it her most careful attention, as her decision was of vital importance. We were alone. We had read the whole play through with the utmost care, till we came to the final sentence in our ma.n.u.script, where the hero declares his pa.s.sion for the Unblown Rose. It runs thus: