"So Hennessey, you go home," I says, "an' see to the wife an' kid." "You'll follow me there one day," says he, an' I says, "Heaven forbid! I'll just be goin' about an' about an' keepin' an open mind An' sometimes doin' a job o' work, but not if I'm not inclined; An' I won't care If I'm here or there, Jungle or forest or feast or fair; I'll take it all as it comes along, as the Maker o' things designed; I'll tramp it North to the Kashmir hills an' South to the Nilgiris; I'll find my friends as I find my fun--and that's where I dam well please; An' never no _saman_ or houses or taxes or servants to send things wrong." "It wouldn't suit me," said Hennessey. "It wouldn't," says I. "So long!"
You are doubtless aware that in the successful musical comedy, _The Girl of Forty-Seven_, there is a scene in which Miss Verbena Vaine, as _Clementina_, the horse-dealer's beautiful daughter, denounces the disreputable old veterinary surgeon, _Binnett_, so whimsically played by that ripe comedian, Mr. Sid Apps.
On my first visit to the play many weeks ago an incident occurred which both enhanced Mr. Apps's reputation for spontaneous humour and highly diverted the audience.
It will be remembered that at the climax of her outburst, _Clementina_, with eyes ablaze and voice vibrating with passion, hisses, "Loathsome scoundrel, how I detest and despise you!" On the evening to which I refer a mock-submissive look came into Apps's face when these words were spoken, and he interrupted gently, "Not too much soda, Verbena," glancing with mischievous curiosity to see how she would take his humorous comment upon her emphatic utterance of this line of many sibilants.
The audience was greatly delighted by this effect. Miss Vaine failed completely to maintain the _rôle_ of the indignant beauty and turned her back to the footlights to hide her face, though her laughter was betrayed by the shaking of her handsome shoulders. There was a pause of some moments before she resumed, "My father shall know of this," and so forth.
Last week, when Doris, my niece, chose that I should take her to see _The Girl of Forty-Seven_, I was not unwilling again to enjoy Apps's humour. I listened with especial care as we approached the scene in the play to which I have referred. Perhaps he would employ some still more successful gag. At last came _Clementina's_ outburst. "Loathsome scoundrel, how I detest and despise you!" she exclaimed with vehemence. "Not too much soda, Verbena," replied the comedian gently, with a mischievous glance of curiosity. The actress gave a look of amazement, then quickly turned her back to the audience, where she stood for some moments with her face in her hands and her shoulders shaking, the audience laughing aloud with delight. The action of the play was delayed for some moments before Miss Verbena Vaine resumed her part.