Dickens, Charles – The Uncommercial Traveller

slouched, high-shouldered, into our places with our hands in our

pockets, and occasionally twisted our cravats about our necks like

eels, and occasionally tied them down our breasts like links of

sausages, and occasionally had a screw in our hair over each cheekbone

with a slight Thief-flavour in it. Besides prowlers and

idlers, we were mechanics, dock-labourers, costermongers, petty

tradesmen, small clerks, milliners, stay-makers, shoe-binders,

slop-workers, poor workers in a hundred highways and byways. Many

of us – on the whole, the majority – were not at all clean, and not

at all choice in our lives or conversation. But we had all come

together in a place where our convenience was well consulted, and

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Dickens, Charles – The Uncommercial Traveller

where we were well looked after, to enjoy an evening’s

entertainment in common. We were not going to lose any part of

what we had paid for through anybody’s caprice, and as a community

we had a character to lose. So, we were closely attentive, and

kept excellent order; and let the man or boy who did otherwise

instantly get out from this place, or we would put him out with the

greatest expedition.

We began at half-past six with a pantomime – with a pantomime so

long, that before it was over I felt as if I had been travelling

for six weeks – going to India, say, by the Overland Mail. The

Spirit of Liberty was the principal personage in the Introduction,

and the Four Quarters of the World came out of the globe,

glittering, and discoursed with the Spirit, who sang charmingly.

We were delighted to understand that there was no liberty anywhere

but among ourselves, and we highly applauded the agreeable fact.

In an allegorical way, which did as well as any other way, we and

the Spirit of Liberty got into a kingdom of Needles and Pins, and

found them at war with a potentate who called in to his aid their

old arch enemy Rust, and who would have got the better of them if

the Spirit of Liberty had not in the nick of time transformed the

leaders into Clown, Pantaloon, Harlequin, Columbine, Harlequina,

and a whole family of Sprites, consisting of a remarkably stout

father and three spineless sons. We all knew what was coming when

the Spirit of Liberty addressed the king with a big face, and His

Majesty backed to the side-scenes and began untying himself behind,

with his big face all on one side. Our excitement at that crisis

was great, and our delight unbounded. After this era in our

existence, we went through all the incidents of a pantomime; it was

not by any means a savage pantomime, in the way of burning or

boiling people, or throwing them out of window, or cutting them up;

was often very droll; was always liberally got up, and cleverly

presented. I noticed that the people who kept the shops, and who

represented the passengers in the thoroughfares, and so forth, had

no conventionality in them, but were unusually like the real thing

– from which I infer that you may take that audience in (if you

wish to) concerning Knights and Ladies, Fairies, Angels, or such

like, but they are not to be done as to anything in the streets. I

noticed, also, that when two young men, dressed in exact imitation

of the eel-and-sausage-cravated portion of the audience, were

chased by policemen, and, finding themselves in danger of being

caught, dropped so suddenly as to oblige the policemen to tumble

over them, there was great rejoicing among the caps – as though it

were a delicate reference to something they had heard of before.

The Pantomime was succeeded by a Melo-Drama. Throughout the

evening I was pleased to observe Virtue quite as triumphant as she

usually is out of doors, and indeed I thought rather more so. We

all agreed (for the time) that honesty was the best policy, and we

were as hard as iron upon Vice, and we wouldn’t hear of Villainy

getting on in the world – no, not on any consideration whatever.

Between the pieces, we almost all of us went out and refreshed.

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