Chapter IV: Act 3: Life amongst the Fancy! (2)

_Jerry._ Ay, ay, ay, put down the rain napper, Doctor, the shower is over now. What’s the matter?

_Mrs. T._ I’m in the greatest distress imaginable.

_Tom._ Holloa, what’s the row?--a woman in distress! Where’s the man would refuse his assistance?

_Kate._ Who are you, sir?

_Sue._ Yes, who are you, sir?

_Tom._ What, show fight! I’m your man; (_To Kate_).

_Jerry._ And I’m your man, my little one. (_To Sue_).

_Log._ (_To Mrs. T._) And I’m your man, ma’am.

_Mrs. T._ Watch! watch! (_Rattles are heard_).

_Enter_ TEDDY M’LUSH, _an Irish Watchman_.

_M’L._ Ulloa, here! What the devil have you got a fire?

_Tom._ What do you ask for your beaver, Charley?

_Mrs. T._ Why, my goodness, watchman, you are quite drunk.

_M’L._ Eh, drunk are you,--then I’ll take care of you.

_Mrs. T._ But I want to give charge of these two gentlemen, who have behaved in the most extravagant manner--almost kissed me to death.

_M’L._ Oh, you want to charge these gentlemen in an extravagant manner, for almost kissing them to death, do you?--but I’ll soon put a stop to it.

_Kate._ That’s right, watchman.

_Tom._ Zounds! fellows, do you think we’re to be bullied in this fashion?

_M’L._ Oh, you’re bullies dressed in the fashion, are you?--I’ll soon take charge of ye. (_Springs rattle--it is answered without_, R. _and_ L).

_Tom._ A surprise! I’ll make sure of this fellow, at all events. Now, Jerry, I’ll show you how to box a Charley.

_Log._ Stop, my boys, secure your tattlers. (_They put up their watches_).

_Tom._ Now, go it, Jerry,--can you play at cricket?

_Jerry._ Yes, Tom.

_Tom._ Then catch--here’s the gentleman’s toothpicker, and here’s his glim. (_Throw stick and lanthorn to Jerry_).

_Tom upsets O’Boozle’s box.--enter Watchmen.--General row--Rattles--Logic fights M’Lush.--Kate, Mrs. Turtar and Sue, run off.--Green enters with a bloody nose and two watchmen; he runs off.--Jerry fights with three watchmen.--Tom fights with three watchmen, floors them._

CHORUS. (_Omnes_).

AIR.--_From the Spectacle of “Don Juan.”_

_Watch! watch! watch! Lord how they’re bawling!
Catch! catch! catch! That’s if you can.
Scratch! scratch! scratch! Pulling and hauling--
Wretch! wretch! wretch! You are the man.
Patch! patch! patch! Lots of heads breaking!
Fetch! fetch! fetch! The constable, John.
Match! match! match! Match them for raking.
Watch! watch! watch! My watch is gone._

_Mill renewed.--The Women get away as before.--Tom and Jerry perform prodigies of valour, but are at length overpowered by numbers, and borne off.--Green enters alarmed, flies on all sides for safety, but is at length caught up by a watchman in his arms, and carried off.--Scene closes on two watchmen cuffing one another by mistake._

TOM AND JERRY IN TROUBLE AFTER A SPREE.

AND please your Worship here’s three fellows
Been hammering of us all about;
Broke our boxes, lanthorns, smellers,
And almost clos’d our peepers up.

Our pipkins broke, Sir!--’tis no joke, Sir,
Faith we’re crush’d from head to toe;
We’re not the men, Sir!--Hold your tongue, Sir,
You must find bail before you go!

SCENE.--_Interior of St. Dunstan’s Watch-house.--Mr. Tartar, Constable of the Night, discovered at table; pen, ink, &c.--Watchman in attendance. Noise heard without.--Cries of “Charge! charge!”_

_Mr. T._ Holloa! a charge! I must get into my big chair, pull off my night-cap, cock my wig, and look official. (_Watchman opens the door, and is knocked down by rush_).

_Enter_ TOM, JERRY, LOGIC, WATCHMEN, KATE, JANE, SUE, MRS. TARTAR, O’BOOZLE, _and_ M’LUSH, _very uproariously_. MRS. TARTAR _makes signs to_ MR. TARTAR.

_Omnes._ Mr. Constable! Mr. Constable--Please your worship, this man!--this woman!

_Mr. T._ Silence! silence!--Eh, the devil! Sally Tartar, my wife!--and winking at me not to take any notice.

_Omnes._ Please your worship--I--I----

_Mr. T._ Silence! silence! Watchman, do you speak first.

_Mrs. T._ (_aside to Tom_). Be quiet--I’ll soon turn the tables.

_M’L._ Plaise your honour, I have brought before your worship a most notorious substitute and common street talker, who, for her foul doings, has been cooped up in the Poultry Compter, as often as there are years in a week.--I caught her charging these honest gentlemen, (_pointing to Tom and Jerry_) in a most impositious manner, and when I civilly axed her, how she could think of getting drunk, and acting so, she called her bullies here. (_Pointing to Kate and Sue_).

_Kate._ Zounds, fellow, you don’t mean us?

_Sue._ Why, you rascal, I’ll twist your neck for you.

_M’L._ Yes; they, your worship, who half murdered me first, and then buried poor little Teddy O’Boozle in his box, that he mightn’t prevent them murdering t’other half of me; och, they’re terrible desperadoes!

_Kate._ Here’s a scoundrel for you!

_Mr. T._ Silence! we’ll soon get to the bottom of all this.

_Kate._ Zounds, sirrah, we gave the charge ourselves. (_To M’Lush_).

_M’L._ Och, murder!

_Kate._ Those were the assailants. (_Pointing to Tom, Jerry, and Logic_).

_Mr. T._ This is a very intricate affair.

_M’L._ Sure, won’t I be after telling you my own story:--as I was going my rounds quietly enough, up comes these young sparks, and gave me such a maulagaran, that they knock’d me into the middle of next week--besides tipping me this here black eye--only see how red it is!

_Mr. T._ I’ll soon set all to rights,--first let me hear what you have to say to all this, woman: these are very serious allegations. (_To Mrs. Tartar_).

_Tom._ Aye, aye, let the woman speak.

_O’Booz._ Oh, the woman will speak fast enough.

_Mrs. T._ Hold your tongue fellow.--Please your worship, it’s all false from beginning to end--it’s he that’s drunk! nay, you may perceive he’s so drunk he cannot even give a charge--doesn’t know one person from the other, and can scarcely stand.

_M’L._ Plaise your honour it’s only the ague, I have it every Saturday night regularly, what I’ve said is all true, so help me Bob,--sure, she’s not a woman to put whiskey in a jug, and throw stones at it.

_Mr. T._ Why, you impudent vagabond you’re drunk now--instead of giving charge of her, the good lady ought to have given charge of you,--what business had you off your beat, and in such a situation?

_Tom and Jerry._ Aye, what business had you off your beat, old Charley?

_M’L._ They bate me off my beat.

_Mrs. T._ I give charge of him, your worship.

_Mr. T._ And I take it--off with him to the black hole.

_Tom._ Aye, aye, take him up the spout.

_Mr. T._ My dear wife! (_Embraces Mrs. Tartar_). My dear Sally Tartar.

_M’L._ His wife! Och, by the powers, then I’ve caught a Tartar.

_Mr. T._ Take him away.

_M’L._ Och, sure I’m the boy that cares for nobody--so there’s my coat, there’s my hat, there’s my rattle and lanthorn,--and to the devil I pitch the whole of you. (_He is carried off_).

_Kate._ They musn’t get off so easily. (_Aside_).

_Tom._ A fortunate turn-up for us, faith.

_Mr. T._ Gentlemen, you are at liberty.

_O’Booz._ Stay, your honour, I’ve got a charge. This here chap (_pointing to Tom_) with the Roosian head of hair--he comes up to me like a warment--

_Tom._ Why, you impudent--(_Knocks O’Boozle down--a row ensues_).

_Mr. T._ Silence! silence!--be quiet all of you, can’t you?

_Kate._ Mr. Constable, I have a charge--(_to O’Boozle_). Watchman, there’s a crown--what I say, swear to. (_Aside_).

_O’Booz._ I’ll swear to anything, your honour.

_Log._ What the devil’s in the wind now?

_Kate._ I charge those gentlemen with assaulting this young woman--(_pointing to Jane_)--the watchman saw the whole transaction.

_O’Booz._ I’ll swear it, your worship.

_Tom._ Why, zounds, fellow, I never saw the girl!

_Sue._ (_To Jerry_). Come, sir, you can’t say you never saw her.

_Jerry._ Why I have a recollection of seeing her somewhere, though I am at fault as to the place, at present.

_Kate._ It’s a clear case.

_O’Booz._ I’ll swear to it, your worship!

ROUND. (_Omnes_).

AIR.--“_’Twas you, Sir._”

_’Twas you, Sir, ’twas you, Sir;
Your worship, it is true, Sir,
’Twas you that pull’d the girl about,
’Twas you, Sir, you._

_Untrue, Sir, untrue, Sir,
It was the man in blue, Sir,
’Twas he that pulled the girl about,
’Tis true, Sir, true._

_No, no, Sir, no, no, Sir,
How can you tell lies so, Sir?
I did not pull the girl about,
But I know who._

_Mr. T._ Gentlemen, here are four witnesses against you; and ’tis my painful duty to commit you, unless you can find good bail.

_Tom._ We’ll give you leg bail.

_Kate._ Aye, find good bail, and mind that it is good. There’s our card--come, watchman--Come, Sir Jeremy.

_Sue._ Good-night--Sorry to leave you in such bad company--but beauty calls; we must obey.

_Tom._ Aye, aye, your mamma waits for you.

_Log._ Go and get a pennyworth of elycampane.

_Jerry._ There’s a pair of men-milliners--I say; go home and sleep under the counter.

(_Exeunt Sue, Kate, and watchmen_).

TOM AND JERRY AMONG THE “SWELL BROAD COVES.”

At St. James’s they dine, when, flushed with new wine,
To the Gaming Tables they reel,
Where blacklegs and sharps, often gammon the flats,
As their pockets do presently feel.

Success at first Jerry delighted,
But ere the next morning he found
That his purse was most cleverly lighted
Of nearly Five Thousand Pounds.

SCENE.--_Interior of a fashionable Hell at the West-end of the Town; a large looking-glass in the flat._

_Enter_ GROOM PORTER _and_ MARKERS.

_G. Porter._ Come, lads, bustle about; play will soon begin--some of the Pigeons are here already, the Greeks will not be long following.

_Enter_ KATE, SUE, TRIFLE, _and_ GREEN, _the latter with a large patch on his nose_.

_Kate._ Assist us in this, my dear Trifle, and we ask no more.--The card we left at the Watchhouse will soon bring our sparks to demand satisfaction,--you and Green must act the parts of conciliators, and propose to end the affair in a game of cards; the insight you have given Green and us into all the arcana of play, will enable us, with the aid of the servant, to fleece them to admiration; thus we may pursue our plan, and cure them of this first of vices of Life in London, gaming! and save their fortune from those who may play for a less disinterested stake.

_Trifle._ I’faith you ought to be very much obliged to me, girls, _pan_ hanour, for letting Green into the secret,--it cost me fiteen cool thousands, demme! but I’ll assist you.--Green, my dear fa-e-llow, take your post near the glass while they’re playing; and, by the number of fingers you hold up, we shall easily know how many honours they have, and every other particular.

_Green._ Vith the greatest of pleasure.--I suppose I may hold up my thumb as well as my fingers, may’nt I--because they may have five honours? you know!

_Sue._ Oh, certainly, Mr. Green--Ah, man, vain glorious man, how easily art thou duped?

_Trifle._ They come, you must mind your eye, pan hanour, Green.

_Green._ Oh, you shall find me quite avake--I’m glad I got avay and vas’nt taken to the vatchouse; I was forc’d to give half-a-crown though.

_Enter_ TOM, JERRY, _and_ LOGIC.

_Tom._ Where is this Sir Jeremy Brag? Oh, here you are, Sir--well met.

_Trifle._ Ah, my dear Tom, how are you?

_Green._ My dear Corinthian, how do you do? I’m glad they didn’t put you in the black ’ole.

_Tom._ Excuse me a moment, Green, I have an affair with this gentleman that will not admit of a moment’s delay.

_Trifle._ What, my friend, Brag,--honest Sir Jeremy? You musn’t hurt him, he’s a cursed good fellow.--It must be some mistake.

_Green._ Yes, it must be some mistake.

_Kate._ Entirely a mistake, I assure you--I’m extremely sorry, if that will give you any satisfaction.

_Tom._ Oh, if you apologize, I’m satisfied; otherwise nothing would have done, but Chalk Farm! pistols! half-past six! pooh!

_Log._ That’s the time of day my flower.

_Green._ Vell, I’m glad it’s settled without bloodshed--Chalk Farm! pistols! half-past six, and pooh!

_Jerry._ (_to Green_). Sorry to see your nose in mourning, Green--here, Waiter, take my hat. (_Gives waiter the Charley’s old beaver to take care of, who brushes it up ironically, and takes it off_).

_Green._ What say you to burying all differences in a friendly game of vhist? Trifle and I vill cut out.

_Trifle._ Yes; it’s too great an exertion for me to play, _pan han-our_--I’m only scarcely endurable to the fatigue of looking on, _r-e-a-l-y_.

_Tom._ A rubber at whist? I have no objection,

_Jerry._ Nor I--you’ll not find me at fault here, coz--no one is better skilled in the mystery of the odd trick, than I am, I flatter myself.

_Trifle._ (_To Tom_). Well you and your country friend can pair with Sir Jeremy and the Captain, and this worthy vegetable, Green, and I will see fair play, _pan ha_nour.

(_Kate, Sue, Tom and Jerry sit down to cards; Trifle and Green stand behind them, overlooking Tom’s and Jerry’s hand_).

_Log._ (_Drinking and looking on_). They’ll be done, as sure as my name is Logic.--Upon that suit some of the best judges in London have been had.--Inviting a man to a swell dinner, and making him pay five guineas a mouthful for it afterwards, is no new feature of Life in London--Go it, ye flats--“_Thus for men the women fair_,” (_singing_). Why, there’s that fellow giving the office to his pal now: well it’s no business of mine. Go it my pippins--what, Tom, have you got the uneasiness?--“_What is beauty but a bait._” (_Sings again_).

_Tom._ (_Rising and throwing down cards_). Oh, if you can’t play better than that, Jerry, we’d better do nothing at all!

_Log._ (_Singing_). “_Oft repented when too late._”

_Jerry._ Who can play while the Doctor’s singing?

_Log._ I knew how it would be--did you hear anything knock, Tom?

_Jerry._ (_Walks about, and, by mistake, takes Logic’s hat_). Damn the cards!

_Sue._ (_To Jerry_). Come, sir, never be downhearted, bad luck now, better another time.

_Jerry._ Indeed! I’m not going to try, though.

_Kate._ Very sorry, Mr. Corinthian--shall be happy to give you your revenge some other evening!

_Log._ Well, Tom, are you clean’d out?

_Tom._ Clean’d out! both sides; look here--pockets to let!--here have been two playing four; and we have stood the nonsense in prime style.

_Log._ Well, don’t grumble--every one must pay for his learning--and you wouldn’t bilk the schoolmaster, would you? But come, I’m getting merry; so if you wish for a bit of good truth, come with me, and let’s have a dive among the Cadgers in the Back Slums, in the Holy Land.

_Jerry._ Back Slums--Holy Land!--I’m at fault again.

_Log._ Why, among the beggars in Dyot Street, St. Giles’s.

_Tom._ Beggars! ah, we shall be very good figures for the part. (_Turning out his pockets_).

_Log._ We must masquerade it there.

_Kate._ (_To Sue, aside_). And so must we--come, Trifle,

[_Exeunt Omnes._

There’s a difference between a beggar and a queen,
And the reason I’ll tell you why;
A queen cannot swagger, not get drunk like a beggar
Nor be half so happy as I,--as I.

SCENE--_Back Slums in the Holy Land._

MR. JENKINS, SOLDIER SUKE, DINGY BET, LITTLE JEMMY, CREEPING JACK, RAGGED DICK, _and other well-known Characters discovered_.

SONG.--MR. JENKINS.

AIR.--“_It was one Frosty Morning._”

_Cadgers make holiday,
Hey, for the maunder’s joys,
Let pious ones fast and pray,
They save us the trouble, my boys._

_On the best peck and booze we’ll live,
’Tis fit we their blunt should spend;
For what to us they give,
Tenfold to the saints they lend.
Rumpti bumpti bay, &c._

_With our doxies, great as a Turk,
We taste all life can give;
For who but a slave would work,
When he like a prince might live?
Then lustily call away,
Cadgers keep up the ball,
Never mind what’s to pay,
The public pays for all.
Rumpti, bumpti bay, &c._

(_Omnes Chorus the burthen of the Song--dancing grotesquely_).

_Omnes._ Ha! ha! ha! (_Billy heard without_). Eh! stand aside--here comes Billy Waters.

_Enter_ BILLY WATERS, _dancing_.

_Billy._ Ah; how do you do, my darley? How you do, Massa Jenkins?--I drink with you. (_Drinks deep: Jenkins takes the pot away_).--And you Massa Jack, I drink wid you, too. (_To Creeping Jack_).--Your helt,--your good helt, ladies! (_Jack takes pot away_).

_Jack._ I say, Billy, you’re biting your name in it.

_Billy._ Yes, me likes to bite my name in such goot stuff as that.

_Mr. J._ Gemman, let’s purceed to business--I’ve got to inform you o’ summat.

_Jack._ Vat’s that ’ere?

_Mr. J._ Vy, that ’ere, is this ’ere--I begs to obsarve that the time is come when you may all consider yourselves independent gemmen; for if business should fail, you can at any time retire on a pension now.

_Jack._ As how?

_Mr. J._ As how? Vy, this as how. The Mende-_city_ Society, I believe they call themselves, have kindly purwided a fund for us gemmen; so, if anybody offers you less nor a mag, or a duece, vy, you may say with the poet, “Who vou’d his farthings bear? ven he himself might his quivetus make vith a bare Bodkin.”

_Omnes._ Bravo!

_Billy._ Dat dam goot--me like dat!--that Bodkin has dam goot point!

_Mr. J._ It was but t’other day they took’d me up; slapp’d a pick-ax into one of my mauleys, and shov’d a shovel into t’other, and told me to vork--says I, gemmen, I cant’t vork, cause vy, I’m too veak--so they guv’d me two bob, and I bolted!

_Beggar._ You did quite right; vell, vile I can get fifteen bob a day by gammoning a maim, the devil may vork for me. If any lady or gemmen is inclined for a dance, I’ll nash my arm-props in a minute. (_Throws down his crutches_).

_Billy._ An I play you de tune in de key of de X, Y, Z.

_Jack._ We haven’t had a better job a long vile nor the shabby genteel lay. That, and the civil rig, told in a pretty penny--Come, here’s the ould toast, “Success to Cadging.”

_Omnes._ (_Drinking_). Success to Cadging.

_Mr. J._ Does any gemman understand these here Tread Mills that have got such a footing?

_Jack._ Silence! Gemmen:--I’m a-going to make a hobservation: Mr. Jenkins means them there Mills as makes you vork vether there’s any vork or no--I can only say this here, gemmens, if them there mills are encouraged, it von’t be vorth no body’s vile to exercise vone’s calling--because, vy, von may as vell go and vork for one’s living at once--but the subject von’t bear not no thinking on.

_Omnes._ Not by no means. (_General groans_).

_Billy._ Oh, curse a de tread mill, me no like a de “here we go up, up, up,” and “down you go down, down, down,” an if you no work, a great lump of wood come and knock you down so--(_Striking Beggar on head, with fiddle, who falls down_).

_Beggar._ Oh! he has split my Jemmy!

_Billy._ (_Picking him up_). Poor fellow, him werry sorry, so dere no harm done. Gemman of de Noah Ark Society, as Little Jemmy here is no starter, I move he be put in de chair a-top o’ de table.

_Omnes._ Bravo! Jemmy in the chair. (_Jemmy is put on the table_).

_Mr. J._ Silence for the cheer.

_Jemmy._ Gemman, I shall return thanks--here’s all your jolly good healths, and success to flat catching.

_Omnes._ Bravo! bravo!

SONG.--MR. JENKINS, _and barking chorus of Beggars_.

AIR.--_Bow, Wow, Wow._

_That all men are beggars, ’tis very plain to see,
Tho’ some they are of lowly, and some they are of high degree;
Your ministers of state will say, they never will allow
That kings from subjects beg, but that you know is all bow wow.
Bow wow, wow! fol lol, &c._

_Then let us cadgers be, and take in all the flats we can,
Experience we know full well, my boys, it is that makes the man;
And for experience all should pay, that Billy will allow,
And as for conscience that of old we know is all bow wow.
Bow, wow, wow! fol lol, &c._

_Enter_ KATE, SUE, JANE, TRIFLE, _and_ GREEN, _disguised as Beggars_.

_Sue._ I do not see them here yet.

_Kate._ They’ll not be long, depend on’t,--have I sufficiently disfigured my charms?

_Sue._ Yes, they cannot surely recognise us in these disguises?

_Trifle._ Dear me, a very dreadful perfume, _pan hanour_--essence of mendicity--I’m sorry I came.

_Mr. J._ (_To Green_). Halloa, my little ’un?

_Green._ Eh! come you a done now; you a done vith you.

_Mr. J._ Sluice your dominos--vill you?--

_Green._ Vot! I never plays at dominoes--It’s too wulgar.

_Mr. J._ Vy, then vash your ivories?

_Green._ I’ve got no hiveries to vash.

_Mr. J._ Drink, vill you? don’t you understand Hinglish?

_Green._ Eh! drink--quite a gemman, I declare.--(_While Green drinks Jenkins dances, expectantly_).

_Ragged Jack._ I say, Jenkins has larned to dance since he’s been on the Mill--vy Jenkins you’ll dance your calves into your shoes if you don’t mind.

_Mr. J._ (_To Green, looking at pot_). Vy, I say, you’ve been eating red herrings for dinner, my young un!

_Green._ I vas dry, and that’s the fact on’t.

_Billy._ (_Offering bottle to Sue_). I say, Misses, you drink, eh! my Buckra Beaudly?

_Jemmy._ Gemman, have you ordered the peck and booze for the evening?

_Sold. Suke._ Aye, aye, I’ve taken care of that--shoulder of veal and garnish--Turkey and appendleges--Parmesan--Filberds--Port and Madery.

_Billy._ Dat dam goot, me like a de Madery--Landlord, here you give this bag of broken wittals, vot I had give me to-day, to some genteel dog vot pass your door: and you make haste wid de supper, you curse devil you!

BEGGAR’S OPERA. TOM, JERRY, AND LOGIC, AMONG THE CADGERS IN THE HOLY LAND.

Now to keep up the spree, Tom, Jerry, and Logic,
Went disguis’d to the Slums in the Holy Land;
Through each cribb and each court, they hunted for sport,
Till they came to the BEGGAR’S OPERA so nam’d;
But sure such a sight they had never set sight on,
The quintessence of Tag, Rag, and Bob-tail was there:
Outside of the door Black Molly was fighting.
And pulling Mahogany Bet by the hair.
There was cobblers and tailors, sweeps, cadgers, and sailors,
Enough to confound Old Nick with their din;
There was bunters, and ranters and radical chaunters,
Clubbing their half-pence for quarterns of gin.

_Enter_ TOM, JERRY, _and_ LOGIC--_disguised as Beggars, with Placards on their backs_--TOM’S “_Burnt Out--lost my little all._”--JERRY’S “_Deaf and Dumb._”--LOGIC’S “_Thirteen Children._” _&c._

_Sue._ Here they are--I know them in spite of their rags.

_Tom._ This, my dear Jerry, is a rich page in the book of life, which will save you many a pound, by exposing the imposition of street mendicity.--It almost staggers belief that hypocrisy is so successful, and that the fine feeling of the heart should become so blunted, as to laugh at the humanity of those who step forward to relieve them.

_Log._ ’Tis the blunt that does it--but stow magging, Tom, or we shall get blown.

_Jerry._ Tom, here’s a group of blackbeetles--do you see those lovely mendicants?

_Tom._ Beauty in rags--I do--Cupid imploring charity, I’ll relieve him, for I’ll be after that match-girl directly.

_Jerry._ And I’ll chant a few words to that beautiful ballad-singer.

_Log._ And I’ll take pity on that charming beggar.

SONG OF THE CADGERS IN THE HOLY LAND.

_Come, let us dance and sing,
While fam’d St. Giles’ bells shall ring,
Black Billy scrapes the fiddle strings,
Little Jemmy fills the Chair.
Frisk away, let’s be gay,
This is Cadger’s holiday;
While knaves are thinking, we are drinking,
Bring in more gin and beer.
Come, let us dance and sing, &c._

_Here’s Dough-boy Bet, and Silver Sall,
Lushy Bob, and Yankee Moll,
And Suke, as black as any pall,
The pinks of the Holy Land.
Now, merry, merry, let us be,
There’s none more happier sure than we,
For what we get we spend it free,
As all must understand!
Come, let us dance, &c._

_Now he that would merry be,
Let him drink and sing as we,
In palaces you shall not see,
Such happiness as here.
Then booze about, our cash an’t out,
Here’s sixpence in a dirty clout;
Come landlord bring us in more stout,
Our pension-time draws near.
Come, let us dance, &c._

_Enter_ LANDLORD _with supper_.

_Land._ Now, your honours, here’s the rum peck, here’s the supper.

_Billy._ Eh, de supper! de supper! come along, (_After striking Creeping Jack on fingers with knife_). You damn nasty dog! what for you put your dirty fingers in de gravy? you call that gentlemans? you want your finger in de pie, now you got him there!

_Jack._ I only wish’d to taste the stuffining.

_Billy._ And now you taste de carver knife instead! (_takes candle, and looks at supper_). Vy, what him call dis?

_Land._ Why, the turkey and the pie, to be sure.

_Billy._ De turkey and de pie! I tink you said de turkey and de pie,--what! de turkey without de sassinger! him shock--him wouldn’t give pin for turkey without dem--me like a de Alderman in chain.

_Land._ I’m very sorry, Mr. Waters, but--

_Billy._ You sorry! I’m sorry for my supper, you damn dog.

_Mr. J._ (_To Landlord_). Vhat! sarve up a turkey without sassiges,--you’re a nice man I don’t think.

_Jack._ (_To Landlord_). I tell you vhat, young man, vhen you talk to gemmen, larn to take off your hat.

_Jemmy._ Vy there’s no lemon to the weal, nor hoyster sasse to the rump stakes.--It’s shocking, infamous neglect, that’s vot it is.

_Mr. J._ (_To Landlord_). Vy, who do you suppose would eat rump stakes without ayesters? I’ve a great mind to smash your countenance for you!--You ought to have your head punched you ought!

_Jemmy._ Here’s no filberds to the Port, nor devils to the Madery, nather.

_Land._ Egad, I think there’s devils enough to it. (_Aside_). Gentlemen, the deficiencies shall be supplied directly. (_He is hunted off_).

_Mr. J._ Hit him; he’s got no friends.

_Jemmy._ We must go to some hother tavern, if we’re neglected in this here manner.

_Mr. J._ You may do as you please, gemmen, but for my part, I shall certainly use some other _hotel_.

_Billy._ You perfectly right, Massa Jenkins, we must use some other hot-hell.

_Jerry._ (_To Sue, she having attracted his attention_). And so you sell ballads, eh?

_Sue._ Yes, Sir, three a penny; but if you like to take twelve, I’ll make you an allowance.

_Jerry._ Oh, I’ll have the allowance by all means.

_Sue._ (_Singing_).

“_Relieve my woes, my wants distressing;
And Heaven reward you with its blessing._”

_Jerry._ Enchanting vagrant! come here, and let me bargain with you. (_Takes Sue aside_).

_Tom._ (_To Kate, bringing her down_, C.--_in like manner_). And so you make matches, do you?

_Kate._ Yes!--as you’ll find out by and by. (_Aside_).

_Tom._ But ’ant these brimstone dealings contagious? you little flower of--hum-um-um---- (_Takes her up in a corner_).

_Log._ (_To Jane, bringing her down_ R.--) You’ve moved me so, that I could bestow every mag I’ve got, you beautiful beggar, I could.

(_Knocking without_).

_Enter_ LANDLORD, _running_, L,----_Previously to which, Kate and Sue have, unobserved, given beggars money, and entered into communication with them pointing aside to Tom, Jerry and Logic._

_Billy._ Vat de matter, vat broke, eh? (_To Landlord_).

_Land._ Gentlemen vagabonds; the traps are abroad, and half a thousand beadle and beaksmen are now about the door.

_Billy._ De beak! oh curse a de beak!

_Jemmy._ Gemmen! gemmen! (_Knocking on table to command attention_).

_Jack._ Silence for the chair!

_Jemmy._ Put out the lights, put out the lights, every one shift for himself. Here, Bob, carry me up the ladder, good luck to you do, Bob.

_Billy._ Landlord! landlord, you dog! which door de beak come in at.

_Land._ At the front.

_Billy._ Vy, den carry me out at de back door, you Dick.

[_He and Jemmy are carried out.--Lights are put out--General consternation._

FINALE.--TOM, JERRY, LOGIC, SUE, KATE, JANE, MR. JENKINS, CREEPING JACK, _and_ BEGGARS.

AIR.--“_Zitti, Zitti--Piano, Piano!_”

_Mr. Jenkins._

_Up the ladder, softly creeping,
Let us gently steal away,
Traps without their watch are keeping,
There we’ll let the rascals stay._

_Creeping Jack._

_Traps without, their watch are keeping,
Tread softly; no delay;
Up the ladder slily creeping
Through the back door and away._

_Tom, Jerry, Logic, Kate, Sue, and Jane._

_To my arms, love, softly creeping,
To bliss we’ll steal away;
Suspense ’tis idle keeping,
Seize pleasure while you may._

_Where are you? where are you?
To my arms, love, softly creeping,
To bliss we’ll steal away,
Softly, softly; lightly, lightly; away; away! away!_

_Kate, Sue, and Jane, as Tom, Jerry, and Logic advance, attracted by their voices, adroitly substitute Dingy Bet, Soldier Suke, and another, in the places of themselves.--Drop falls on Tom, Jerry, and Logic, carrying their beggarly bargains off in great exultation.--Kate, Sue, and Jane enjoying the joke in the background._

JERRY LEARNING TO SPAR.

Now Jerry’s become a fancy blade,
To Jackson’s he often goes
And to shew his skill in the milling trade,
He crack’d poor Logic’s nose.

He gloried in having a turn-up,
And was always the first in a lark,
To bang and wallop the Charlies,
And pommel them in the dark.

SCENE.--_Jackson’s Rooms, in Bond Street.--Tom, Jerry, and Logic discovered._

_Life in London with us is a round of delight;
It is larking all day, sprees and rambles all night;
Tom, Jerry, and Logic have ever the best
Of the coves in the East, and the swells in the West;
Such pals in a turn-up, so bang up and merry,
As Jerry, Tom, Logic--Tom, Logic, and Jerry,
Ne’er was seen, since the world first by Noah was undone,
So here’s Logic’s, Jerry’s, and Tom’s Life in London!_

_Tom._ We are, indeed, a regular trio; every part well harmonised.

_Log._ Ay, all sharps! not a flat or a natural among us.

_Jerry._ I don’t think we were so very sharp last night, though, when we suffered ourselves to be made such apes of in Noah’s Ark.

_Tom._ You are right, Jerry, we are all at fault here; instead of clasping in my arms my pretty timber merchant--judge my horror, when on approaching a parish lamp, I found myself hugging that duchess of the dust-hole--Dingy Bet.

_Log._ I was served quite as badly--instead of my seraphic street solicitor, I found myself carrying on the war with Soldier Suke.

_Tom._ Worse and worse, who did you make yourself agreeable to, eh, Jerry?

_Jerry._ I beg you won’t mention it!

_Tom._ Let’s think no more on’t; the tables were fairly turned upon us, and we mustn’t grumble--we have now stepp’d into Jackson’s rooms to decide the bet with Logic as to our weight; and as he has won it, let’s be going--but stop, before we go, what say you to a bout with the foils?

_Jerry._ No go, Tom,--I’m fly--it’s a bad spec; I am not going to expose my ignorance of fencing here--but as far as a bout at single-sticks goes--why I have no objection.

_Tom._ Bob will accommodate; won’t you, Bob? come, Doctor, you must have a turn--one small taste.

_Log._ No go! no, no, Mr. Somerset, you’re a downy one at that sport--it won’t fit.

_Tom._ Positively you shall, Bob--come the least taste.

_Log._ Well, well! I won’t baulk your fancy, as you seem bent upon sport--but mind, only one bout.

_Jerry._ No; one will be sufficient. (_They place themselves in position_).

_Tom._ Holloa, Jerry, don’t swallow him.

_Log._ Use me gently, I’m but a green at this.

_Tom._ Now, then, come up to the scratch. (_They play; Jerry makes a hit; Logic parries_).

_Tom._ Well stopp’d--uncommon well, Bob.

_Log._ Do you think so; but, I say, none of your chaffing.

_Tom._ Now, really--

_Jerry._ Yes, yes, he’s up.

_Log._ Hum, I don’t think it was so much amiss myself.

_Jerry._ Now, Doctor, take care of your bread-basket--eyes right, look to your napper.

_Tom._ Ay, ay, be leary, Bob, take care of your ribs--mind your pipkin--be down on your pimple. (_They play a second bout; Jerry breaks Logic’s head_).

_Tom._ I say, Bob, did you hear anything knock?

_Log._ Yes; and nobody at home.

_Jerry._ Doctor! I touch’d your knowledge box there, I think.

_Log._ Touch’d it, zounds! you’ve broken it, Jerry, but it must have been cracked before, or I should never have entered the lists with you. Brown-paper and vinegar for one.

[_Exit._

SCENE IN A GIN SHOP.

Here some are tumbling and jumping in,
And some are staggering out;
One’s pawn’d her smock for a quarten of gin,
Another, her husband’s coat.

Behold, Mr. Tom and Jerry,
Have got an old woman in tow,
They sluic’d her with gin, ’till she reel’d on her pins,
And was haul’d off to quod for a row.

SCENE.--INTERIOR OF A LONDON GIN SHOP.

TOM _and_ JERRY _taking_ BLUE RUIN, _after the_ SPELL _is broken up_.

TOM is _sluicing_ the _ivories_ of some of the unfortunate heroines with blue ruin, whom the breaking up of the SPELL _has turned-up_ without any luck, in order to send them to their _pannies_ full of _spirits_. JERRY is in _Tip Street_ on this occasion, and the _Mollishers_ are all _nutty_ upon him; putting it about, one to another, that he is a _well breeched_ SWELL. FAT BET is pretending to TOM, that she had a great objection to every sort of _ruin_, no matter how _coloured_, since she had once been _queered_ upon that suit. SWIPY BILL, _a translator of Soles_, who has been out for a day’s _fuddle_, for fear his money should become too troublesome to him, has just called in at the _Gin Spinner’s_ to get rid of his last _duce_, by way of a finish, and to have another drop of _blue ruin_. This last glass would have _floored_ him, had it not been for the large butt of liquor which he staggered against. Hiccoughing, he swears “he’ll stand by OLD TOM while he has a _sole_ left to support such a good fellow.”

GIN, GIN, SWEET, SWEET GIN!

AIR.--_Home, Sweet Home._

Walk through London town, in Alley, Lane or Street,
Eight to ten of all the folks you overtake or meet,
List to what they talk about, you’ll find amid the din,
The end of every conversation is a drop of Gin.
Gin, Gin, sweet, sweet Gin,
There’s no drops like Gin.

When the world was young, as we read in classic page,
The shepherds drank the purling stream, and pass’d the golden age;
For purling streams or golden age folks now don’t care a pin,
So that they can raise the brass to keep this age of Gin.
Gin, Gin, Hodge’s Gin, &c.

When the weather’s cold and bleak--in rain and frost and snow,
The Gin, the Gin they fly to, to warm them with its glow.
In summer time, to cool their heat, we see them all flock in
And joy or sorrow, heat or cold, all seek relief in Gin.
Gin, Gin, Seager and Evans’s Gin, &c.

BATTLE OF--_A GIN COURT!_

Sir Richard Burnie sad, declares that never in his time,
Was seen so much depravity, want, misery and crime;
And all the brawls--the roitings--the day and nightly din,
Are caused by what he never tasted! filthy! horrid Gin!
Gin, Gin, Booth’s Cordial Gin, &c.

In India, when a Husband dies--the Widow ne’er can smile,
She’s burnt alive, a sacrifice, upon her husband’s pile;
In London many Wives and Widows deem it not a sin,
To sacrifice and burn themselves alive with fire of Gin.
Gin, Gin, Sir Robert Burnett’s Gin, &c.

Decrepit age with furrow’d face, and one foot in the grave,
Hobbles on his crutches, and for a drop does crave;
Infants, e’er they plainly talk, perk up each little chin
And cry, oh mammy, daddy, baby ’ont a d’op o’ din.
Gin, Gin, Currie’s strong Gin, &c.

GIN LANE.

In former times we’d Goblins, Fairies, Witches, Ghosts and Sprites,
Who ruled the people’s minds by day, and play’d sad pranks o’ nights;
But now the tales of Ghosts and such the people can’t take in
They won’t believe in Spirits, yet put all their faith in Gin.
Gin, Gin, Gaitskell’s Cordial Gin, &c.

In the Reign of old Queen Bess good eating did prevail,
Her Majesty and all the Court would breakfast on strong ale;
But now through every Court, the folk the fashion to be in,
Would _ail_ all day, unless ’fore breakfast they could take some Gin.
Gin, Gin, renovating Gin, &c.

Old women used to cheer their hearts and found it did agree,
By sometimes taking with a friend a cup _too_ much of tea;
But now they’re much more _spirited_--for tea don’t care a pin,
And only use their tea pots for a cup _too much_ of Gin.
Gin, Gin, tongue-relaxing Gin, &c.

GIN AND BITTERS.

Fighters take a “_a shove in the mouth_,” though it is their bane,
Jack Ketch often has a “_drop_”--Scavengers a “_drain_”;
Pris’ners “_half a yard of tape_” to get in merry pin
And Actors oft get “_mellow_” with a “_mellow dram_” of Gin.
Gin, Gin, Tragic, Comic Gin, &c.

Thompson’s shop on Holborn Hill is crowded like a fair,
All the taps continually running out are there;
Swing swang go the doors, while some pop out and some pop in,
Foreigners must surely think that John Bull lives on Gin.
Gin, Gin, dear seductive gin, &c.

This World was once deluged by water, drowning Son & Sire,
But when it is destroy’d again, we read ’twill be by fire;
And this must be the awful time, so prevalent is sin,
As all the wicked world do burn their insides out with Gin.
Gin, Gin, life-inspiring Gin, &c.

TOM AND JERRY CATCHING KATE AND SUE ON THE SLY HAVING THEIR FORTUNES TOLD.

Here lives a Fortune-Telling Gipsy,
Wrinkled, crabbed, grim and old:
And Tom and Jerry’s fancy ladies
Are gone to get their Fortunes told.

They slily view’d them, and pursued them,
For to have some glorious fun.
Behind the curtain, see them sporting,
This is life in London Town.

SCENE.--_Interior of Fortune Teller’s Garret._

_Enter_ JANE, KATE, SUE, TRIFLE, GREEN, _and_ LANDLORD.

GLEE.--_Omnes._

AIR.--“_Who has seen the Miller’s Wife._”

_Jane, Kate, Sue, Trifle, and Green.
Have you the Fortune Teller seen?
I, I for hours have waiting been;
A shilling o’er her palm I’ll pass
If she’ll but look in Fortune’s glass.
Have you, &c._

_Land._ Oh, here she comes at last.

_Enter_ FORTUNE TELLER.

_Land._ Now mother, stir your stumps; here are two ladies waiting for you, and half a score more below.

_F. Teller._ Aye, aye! I turn hundreds away.

_Green._ Vhat an orrid hooman!

_F. Teller._ You must leave the room, gentlemen, (_To Green and Trifle_), my charms never hold good in the presence of a third person.

_Sue._ You hear, Mr. Green, her charms never hold good in the presence of a third person.

_Green._ I should vondor if they did--Her charms! Lord--I can take an int; I’m to go--wery vell, I shall absconce--Vat an ugly old vitch!

_Trifle._ (_To Girls_). We shall meet again at Logic’s, so I’ll leave you with the particularly frightful old hag, _pan ha_nour--demme!

[_Exeunt Green, Trifle, and Landlord._

_F. Teller._ (_Sitting at Table_). Now then, young women. I’ll tell you--I’ll tell you--but you must let me shuffle the cards first! (_Produces cards_) For its all done by shuffling! now then, cut them, Miss. (_Sue cuts cards_).

_Kate._ Let us sit down while we stay--rather short of furniture; but never mind, we must make shift.

(_Turns down chair lengthways to sit; she sits on one side, Sue on the other--Sue is nearly let down by Kate suddenly rising_).

_F. Teller._ (_Looking over cards_). Hey day! what have we here? You’ll be married soon.

_Sue._ I hope so, with all my heart!

_F. Teller._ There’s a fair man been paying some attention to you, lately--Hum! a cradle--three!--nine!--fourteen!--have a large family.

_Sue._ Fourteen! mercy on me!

_Kate._ Enough to make one faint!

_F. Teller._ There’s nothing more that I see at present.

_Sue._ Nor there hadn’t need been; if I’m to have fourteen children, I think I’ve heard quite enough.

_F. Teller._ (_To Kate_). Now, Miss, I’ll tell you your fortune; how many husbands, and how many children, and all about it--all about it.

_Kate._ But I don’t want to hear “all about it.” (_Imitating her_). I only want a peep into your magic mirror, and see who I’m to marry.

_F. Teller._ You should have told me that before, I always charge more for that, but I suppose I must throw it you in! Now, then, stand there; and be very still!----

(_Music.--Fortune teller places Kate and Sue in position at off end of the stage--then advances to cabinet--waves her crutch; pulls curtain aside, and discovers a large glass--Landlord passes rapidly behind_).

There! I told you I’d show him to you!

_Kate._ Wonderful! why that’s the man that opened the door to us! (_Aside to Sue_).

_F. Teller._ Now, Miss, I’ll show you your sweetheart!

(_Music and ceremony as before:--Landlord repasses contrary way_).

_Kate._ Ha, ha, ha! that’s the same man again! We’re both to marry the same husband!

_Sue._ Amazingly agreeable!

_Kate._ The old impostor!--Well, now you’ve told us our fortune; can’t you tell your own? (_To Fortune Teller_).

_F. Teller._ No, no--I have no power over my own stars.

_Kate._ Then I’ll tell it for you--In half an hour, unless you make good use of your time, you’ll have a visit from Union Hall.

_F. Teller._ O, dear me! It’s lucky I’ve a handy cockloft, and a safe way over the houses--I’ll be off directly, I’ll be off directly! (_Throws down crutch, cloak, &c., and exits hastily_).

_Kate._ “I’ll be off directly, off directly.” (_Imitating Fortune Teller_). Ha, ha, ha!--She left all her things behind her!--We can now set up in business for ourselves.

_Enter_ JANE _hastily_, L.

_Jane._ Oh, my dear girls, as I was keeping watch below, I saw Tom and Jerry coming down the street, and making for this very house--depend on’t they have traced you here.

_Kate._ What’s to be done?--Tom and Jerry!

_Sue._ Jerry and Tom coming here! (_Running about in confusion.--Knocking at door_).

_Jane._ Don’t keep running about there, as if you were out of your senses, but listen to me--get behind that glass and leave me to manage; I’ll play the Fortune Teller, now!--Help me on with the things--there! there! that will do; now then, away with you!

(_They hide behind Cabinet, after disguising Jane_).

_Tom._ (_As entering_). Come, Jerry, here they--Eh!--not here!--well, we won’t have our walk for nothing--Let’s quiz the old one a bit. I say, Mother Mummery, can you tell our fortunes for us?

_Jane._ (_As old woman_). Oh, yes; but you must cross my hand first.

_Tom._ She wants the tippery--there--(_Gives money_). There, that’s the figure, Jerry.

_Jane._ (_Looks at Jerry_). Now, Sir!

_Jerry._ Oh! must I fork out, too. (_Gives money_)

_Jane._ (_Looking at their palms_). Dear me!--dear me!

_Tom._ You said that before, you know.

_Jane._ You’ve been sad rakes--sad rakes indeed!

_Tom._ (_Imitating her_). Have we, indeed?

_Jerry._ Why, you witch of Endor!

_Tom._ What! can the devil speak?--but come, I’ll find you out at once. I conjure you by that which you profess, how’er you come to know it. Answer me, though you untie the winds! unveil your magic mirror, and show us the images of the women we are to marry. Come up with your little machine. _Whew!_ appear--appear!--they won’t come!

_Jane._ I must have a little more money first!

_Tom._ Why, you old cormorant! more blunt, eh? there-- (_Gives money_).

_Jane._ There, then!

(_Draws Curtain; Kate and Sue appear behind it in their own dresses; Jane slips away_).

_Tom._ Well, Jerry, what do you see?

_Jerry._ (_Going up to glass_). Susan Rosebud!--astonishing.----

_Tom._ Susan Rosebud! Oh, my dear Jerry, your ogles must be queer! (_Goes up; sees Kate_). My Kate! by all that’s miraculous! Where is the juggling hag? (_Looking for Jane_). Why, she’s mizzled! Holloa, Mother Damnable! Oh, there’s some mystery in the infernal mirror, which thus I solve!

_Jerry._ What are you about, Tom?

_Tom._ I’m going to mill the glaze--I’ll----

(_Is about to break the glass, when Kate and Sue appear as the Miss Trifles_).

_Tom._ The Miss Trifles! by all that’s----

JANE, KATE, _and_ SUE _come forward_.

_Kate._ Ha, ha! fairly caught, upon my word. (_Retires up the stage, then says aside to Jane and Sue_). Now girls it is time we should bring our plans to a conclusion. Logic’s imprudent ramblings have involved him in difficulties which, unless timely met, must terminate in ruin. I have bought up most of his debts; and in the midst of the gaiety of this evening, it is my intention to have him arrested and conveyed to prison. I have sent the officer my card of invitation, that he may be sure to gain admittance. This will open the eyes of the thoughtless trio, and enable us to put the money we took in trust at the gambling-house to its proper use; so let’s away, and about it straight.

[_They run off._]

SCENE.--MR. MACE’S CRIB. “ALL MAX” IN THE EAST.[33]

“Oh! for a glass of Max.”--_Byron’s Don Juan._

_A plague on those malty cove fellows,
Who’d have us in spirits relax;
Drink, they say, and you’ll ne’er burn the bellows,
Half-water instead of all max;
A glass of good max, had they twigg’d it,
Would have made them, like us, lads of wax;
For Sal swigg’d, and Dick swigg’d,
And Bob swigg’d, and Nick swigg’d.
And I’ve swigg’d, and we’ve all of us swigg’d it,
And, by Jingo, there’s nothing like max.
All-Max!
By Jingo, there’s nothing like max!_

Here the _tag-rag_ and _bob-tail_ squad who do not care how the _blunt_ comes or how it goes. _Togs_ or no _togs_! but nevertheless, who must live at any price, and see a “_bit of life_,” let the world jog on how it will; yet who can drop a _tear_ upon a sorrowful event--_laugh_ heartily at fun--_shake_ with cold--_perspire_ with heat--and go to _roost_ much sounder upon a dust-hill than many of the _swells_ can _snooze_ upon their feather _dabs_; likewise in comparing _notes_, feel happy in the presumption that there are hundreds worse off in society than themselves.

_Enter_ SAILORS, DUSTY BOB, AFRICAN SAL, MAHOGANY MARY, MRS. _and_ MISS LILLYWHITE, ROSIN, &c., &c., _with gin measures, drinking--Mr. Mace in attendance_.

_Bob._ Now, landlord, ’arter that ’ere drap of max, suppose ve have a drain o’ heavy vet, just by vay of cooling our chaffers--mine’s as dry as a chip--and, I say, do you hear, let’s have a twopenny burster, half a quarten of bees’ vax, a ha’p’orth o’ ingens, and a dollop o’ salt along vith it, vill you?

_Mace._ Here, Waiter! a burster and bees’vax--ingens and salt here. (_Calling as he fetches the porter from the side wing_). Now, then, here you are, Muster Grimmuzzle. (_Holding out his right hand for the money, and keeping the porter away with the other_).

_Bob._ That’s your sort; give us hold on it. (_Takes Mace’s empty hand_). Vy, vhere?

_Mace._ (_Keeping the porter back_). Vy, here.

_Bob._ Oh, you are afeard of the blunt, are you?

_Mace._ No, it ain’t that; only I’m no schollard--so I always takes the blunt with von hand, and gives the pot vith t’other. It saves chalk and prewents mistakes, you know.

_Bob._ Now then for the stumpy. (_Searching about in his pockets for the money_). My tanners are like young colts; I’m obliged to hunt ’em into a corner, afore I can get hold on ’em--there! hand us over three browns out o’ that ’ere tizzy; and tip us the heavy. (_Landlord receives money and delivers porter_). Vy don’t you fill the pot? Likes to have a head on the pot.

_Mace._ How can you have a head on the pot, vhen the chill’s off?

_Bob._ Vell, then let me have the next vith the chill on, vill you? (_Bob drinks_).

_Sal._ You leave some for me, Massa Bob. (_Drinks and empties the pot_).

_Bob._ Vy, Sarah, you seems fond on it--likes to see the end, eh?

(_Bob sits down on one stool and pulls another to the front of him on which he arranges the bread, cheese, onions, &c., then tearing open the loaf discovers a live mouse which he holds up by the tail, and walking up to Mr. Mace, says_:--

I say guv’nor I didn’t axe ye for a hanimated sandvitch did I?

_Mace._ Oh! you is allus so werry partic’lar some times you is. But I say ladies and gemmen, I hopes for the harmony of the evening, you’ll not be back’ards in handing out your mags and duces to the teazer of the catgut here.

_Bob._ Aye, aye!--lend us a tanner on the bell, vill you?

_Mace._ Lend you a tanner on the bell?--It’s vhat I don’t like, Muster Bob; highly improper--you know I’ve a wery great objection to anything of the kind; however, for vonce, I suppose I must; though it ’aint right--but talking o’ that, I begs leave to hint, that I trusts heavy vet von’t be the order of the evening!:--

_Tom._ (_Without_).--No, no, damn up stairs, we’ll go in here.

_Mace._ Zounds, I hope no traps isn’t abroad, and that there ’aint any beaksmen out on the nose!

_Sal._ (_Looking out_). Law, lovee, no, it’s only some gemmen out on the spree--I dare say dat dey’ll stand a drop o’ summat all round.

_Enter_ TOM, JERRY, _and_ LOGIC.

_Tom._ Now, my dear Jerry, here we are amongst the unsophisticated sons and daughters of nature, at All Max in the East. Let the West boast of their highfliers as they will, you’ll find there are still some choice creatures of Society left here.

_Log._ What, my lily! here take a drop of mother’s milk. (_Gives black child gin out of a measure he has received from Landlord_). Landlord, let every one have a glass of what they like best, at our cost.

_Mace._ Regular trumps! I can charge vhat I likes here. (_Aside_). Now, Muster Bob, vhat’ll you take?

_Bob._ Oh, ax my Sal.

_Mace._ Now, Marm Sal, give it a name!

_Sal._ Vy, bring me de kwarten of de Fuller’s earth.

_Tom._ Come, it shall be a night of revelry, my pippins--Song--Dance--everything in the world!

_Mace._ Aye! a jig, a jig!--Remove the stand-stills--sit down, gemmen. Ve shall be as merry as mudlarks, and as gay as sand-boys soon--It’s a poor heart vhat never rejoices. Come, Muster Grimmuzzle, vhat say you to a minnyvit vith your ould lady in mourning, here.

_Bob._ Vith all my heart; I am never backward at any thing of that ’ere sort; am I Sal?

_Sal._ Dat you not, Massa Bob.--Massa Fiddler, you ought to be shame; your fiddle drunk, and no play at all.

_Log._ I’ll gin him a little, my Snow-ball; then he’ll rasp away like a young one; won’t you, my old one? (_Gives Fiddler gin and snuff_).

_Bob._ ‘Snowball,’--come, let’s have none o’your sinnywations, Mister Barnacles; she’s none the vurser, though she is a little blackish or so!

_Log._ Here, Landlord, more Blue Ruin, my boy!

_Tom._ Ceremonies are not in use here, so there’s no occasion for the master of them, Come, start off, my rum ones! the double shuffle.

_Jerry._ Aye, aye! come it strong my regulars.

COMIC PAS DEUX--DUSTY BOB _and_ BLACK SAL.

_Accompanied by Rosin, on his cracked Cremona, and Jerry on a pair of Tongs, to the Air--“Jack’s alive.” In the course of the Pas Deux, Sal, by way of a variation, and in the fulness of her spirits, keeps twirling about: at the same time going round the Stage--Bob runs after her, with his hat in his hand, crying “Sarah! vy, Sarah, ’aint you well?” &c.--The black child seeing this, and thinking there is something the matter with its mother, also squalls violently; stretching its arms towards her: at length, Sal, becoming tired of her vagaries, sets to Bob, who exclaims, “Oh! it’s all right!” and the dance concludes._

_Jerry._ That would do honour to any crib; there’s nothing like pairing off according to fancy. You’re quite fly to the trotter shaking department, I see, my rum one!

_Tom._ To be sure he is a regular gravel digger; come, Sal, my lily. (_Gives Sal gin_).

_Bob._ Vy, Sarah, vere’s your manners; vy don’t you kurchy to the gemman?

_Sal._ Me do dat de second time. (_Receives another glass_). Your good helts, gemmen all. (_Drinks_).

_Tom._ Here, Dusty, my prince, now then, sluice your bolt. (_Gives Bob gin_).

_Bob._ Vell, your honours, here’s your luck. (_Bolts gin_). That’s a regular kwortern, I knows by my mouth.

_Tom._ There’s a swallow, Jerry, this fellow is a perfect mop.

_Jerry._ Now, Doctor, we must think of starting--Eh!--zounds! what’s the matter with you? (_To Logic_).

_Log._ I’ve left off drinking in a great measure.

(_Merry and singing_). “_There’s a difference between_,” _&c., &c._

_Jerry._ Tom, see how snugly Captain Lushington’s getting abroad of Logic. Come, my boy.

_Tom._ Remember your appointment with the ladies.

_Log._ I do like this fiddle, I will have this fiddle. (_Pulling Fiddler along_).

_Tom._ Eh, zounds, Doctor, you’re going to smug the fiddler, and prig the pewter. (_Taking gin measure away from him_). Now then, what’s to pay, landlord?

_Mace._ All out, vill be fourteen bob and a kick, your honour.

_Tom._ Well, there’s a flimsy for you; serve the change out in max to the coves and covesses. (_Gives money_).

_Mace._ Thank your honour--and good luck to you.

_Tom._ Now then, Doctor, this way, my boy; come, come along.