Chapter 3

_Vicar_ (_calling from the Study-door at end of passage_). "MY DEAR, DID YOU RECOLLECT TO SEND FOR HOSKINS ABOUT THE GLOBE YOU HAD THE LITTLE ACCIDENT WITH LAST WEEK!"]

* * * * *

AN UNSCIENTIFIC DIALOGUE.

(_On a highly Uninteresting Topic._)

_First Aspiring Political Economist_ (_picking his way cautiously_). What the Bimetallists maintain is this: that by fixing an artificial ratio between the relative values of gold and silver, you somehow (_a little vaguely_) keep up prices; and so, at least,--so I fancy,--assist the circulation of capital. At all events, that is what I take M. EMILE DE LAVELEYE to mean. (_Tentatively._) You see that, don't you?

_Second Aspiring Political Economist._ Not a bit of it. Why, EMILE DE LAVELEYE is an ass. (_Emphatically._) GIFFEN says so. And you can't have a higher authority than GIFFEN (_clinching the matter_). Why, he's Hon. Assistant Deputy Secretary to the Board of Commerce; (_with animation_) in fact, he says that all Bimetallists are hopeless lunatics, and, in my opinion, he's about right.

_Third Aspiring Political Economist._ I don't see that at all. But if you are going to settle the matter by merely quoting names, what have you got to say to FOXWELL, the London Professor? He's a Bimetallist, and no mistake.

_Second Aspiring Political Economist._ "Got to say?" Why, ask LEVIN of Cambridge what he thinks of him. LEVIN backs up GIFFEN in every word he says, and I agree with both of them. How can you have two standards? (_Explicitly._) The thing is preposterous.

_First Aspiring Political Economist._ It is all very well to lay down the law in that fashion, but it will not dispose of facts. You may quote GIFFEN, or LEVIN, or anyone you like, but they will not be able to do away with the circumstance, that prices are regulated by the quantity of money in circulation (_with a little hesitation_); at least, that is what I understand the other side to maintain.

_Second Aspiring Political Economist._ Sheer nonsense. How does the quantity of money you possess affect the price you pay for a commodity? The fact of your having twenty sovereigns in your purse won't make your butcher charge you an extra halfpenny a pound for a leg of mutton! That must be clear to any fool!

_First Aspiring Political Economist._ But you don't understand. It's numbers that do it. They mean, if thirty millions of people, each have twenty sovereigns a-piece in their purses (_doubtfully_), _then_, I suppose, the butchers would raise the price of their meat. At least, that's what I fancy they imply when they talk of an "artificial currency" raising prices (_with some vagueness_), or is it "artificial prices" creating an increased currency. I couldn't _quite_ follow them in this. But I am sure, whichever of the two views was expressed by M. EMILE DE LAVELEYE, that one had, no doubt, a great deal of sound argument to back it.

_Third Aspiring Political Economist._ I think you miss the point. Take an illustration. Say you arrive at a cannibal island with ten thousand complete sets of evening dress clothes, and that another ship, just before the arrival of yours, has taken the last ten-pound-note off the island, how, supposing there was to be a native rush to obtain one of your suits, would the absence of any money to pay for them affect their market value? I mayn't have got it quite correctly, but this, or something like it, is one of the cases that GIFFEN brings forward to prove his point. The matter, however, appears to me to be a little complicated.

_Second Aspiring Political Economist._ Not in the least. It proves the humbug of the Bimetallic position up to the hilt. Of course, you must assume, that the cannibals desire to dress in evening clothes. I confess that has to be considered, and then the question lies in a nutshell. There can't be two opinions about it.

_First Aspiring Political Economist._ Well, to me, though, of course, I am willing to admit there _may_ be something in it, I can't say that the matter is, at first sight, convincingly clear. (_Candidly._) My chief difficulty is, I confess, to arrive at any definite conclusion with myself, as to what "Bimetallism" really means, and what it does not; and I own I feel still vague as to the two questions of the influence of the quantity of money on prices, or the price of a commodity on the value of money respectively, and, though I carefully read all that appears in the daily papers on the subject, I am compelled to own that I do not seem to be nearer a solution of the perplexing difficulty. However, it is, no doubt, a highly absorbing, if not a very useful, subject for investigation.

[_Left investigating it as Curtain falls._

* * * * *

MR. PUNCH'S MORAL MUSIC-HALL DRAMAS.

No. IV.

Our present example is pure tragedy of the most ambitious kind, and is, perhaps, a little in advance of the taste of a Music-hall audience of the present day. When the fusion between the Theatres and the Music-Halls is complete--when Miss BESSIE BELLWOOD sings "_What Cheer, 'Ria?_" at the Lyceum, and Mr. HENRY IRVING gives his compressed version of _Hamlet_ at the Trocadero; when there is a general levelling-up of culture, and removal of prejudice--then, and not till then, will this powerful little play meet with the appreciation which is its due. The main idea is suggested by the Misses TAYLOR'S well-known poem, _The Pin_, though the dramatist has gone further than the poetess in working out the notion of Nemesis.

THE FATAL PIN.--A TRAGEDY.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

_Emily Heedless._ By either Miss VESTA TILLEY or Mrs. BERNARD BEERE.

_Peter Paragon._ Mr. FORBES ROBERTSON or Mr. ARTHUR ROBERTS (only he mustn't sing "_The Good Young Man who Died_").

_First and Second Bridesmaids._ Miss MAUDE MILLETT and Miss ANNIE HUGHES.

SCENE.--EMILY'S _Boudoir, sumptuously furnished with a screen and sofa,_ C. _Door,_ R., _leading to_ EMILY'S _Bed-chamber. Door,_ L. EMILY _discovered in loose wrapper, and reclining in uncomfortable position on sofa._

_Emily_ (_dreamily_). This day do I become the envied bride of PETER, justly surnamed PARAGON; and much I wonder what in me he found (he, who Perfection so personifies) that he could condescend an eye to cast on faulty, feather-headed EMILY! How solemn is the stillness all around me! (_A loud bang is heard behind screen._) Methought I heard the dropping of a pin!--perhaps I should arise and search for it.... Yet why, on second thoughts, disturb myself, since I am, by my settlements, to have a handsome sum allowed for pin-money? Nay, since thou claim'st thy freedom, little pin, I lack the heart to keep thee prisoner. Go, then, and join the great majority of fallen, vagrant, unregarded pinhood--my bliss is too supreme at such an hour to heed such infidelities as thine.

[_Falls into a happy reverie._

_Enter_ First and Second Bridesmaids.

_First and Second Bridesmaids._ What, how now, EMILY--not yet attired? Nay, haste, for PETER will be here anon!

[_They hurry her off by_ R. _door, just as_ PETER PARAGON _enters_ L. _in bridal array. N.B.--The exigences of the Drama are responsible for his making his appearance here, instead of waiting, as is more usual, at the church._

_Peter_ (_meditatively_). The golden sands of my celibacy are running low--soon falls the final grain! Yet, even now, the glass I would not turn. My EMILY is not without her faults--"_was_ not without them," I should rather say, for during ten idyllic years of courtship, by precept and example I have striven to mould her to a helpmate fit for me. Now, thank the Gods, my labours are complete--she stands redeemed from all her giddiness! (_Here he steps upon the pin, and utters an exclamation_). Ha! what is this? I'm wounded ... agony! With what a darting pain my foot's transfixed! I'll summon help (_with calm courage_)--yet, stay, I would not dim this nuptial day by any sombre cloud. I'll bear this stroke alone--and now to probe the full extent of my calamity. (_Seats himself on sofa in such a position as to be concealed by the screen from all but the audience, and proceeds to remove his boot._) Ye powers of Perfidy, it is a pin! I must know more of this--for it is meet such criminal neglect should be exposed. Severe shall be that house-maid's punishment who's proved to be responsible for this!--but soft, I hear a step.

[_Enter_ First _and_ Second Bridesmaids, _who hunt diligently upon the carpet without observing_ PETER's _presence._

_Emily's Voice_ (_within_). Oh, search, I pray you. It _must_ be there--my own ears heard it fall!

[PETER _betrays growing uneasiness._

_The Bridesmaids._ Indeed, we fail to see it anywhere!

_Emily_ (_entering distractedly in bridal costume, with a large rent in her train_). You have no eyes, I tell you, let me help. It must be found, or I am all undone! In vain my cushion I have cut in two--'twas void of all but stuffing.... Gracious Heavens, to think that all my future bliss depends on the evasive malice of a pin!

[PETER _behind screen, starts violently._

_Peter_ (_aside_). A pin! what dire misgivings wring my heart! (_Hops forward with a cold dignity, holding one foot in his hand._) You seem in some excitement, EMILY?

_Emily_ (_wildly_). _You_, PETER!... tell me--have you found a pin?

_Peter_ (_with deadly calm_). Unhappy girl--I _have_! (_To_ Bridesmaids.) Withdraw awhile, and when we need you, we will summon you. (_Exeunt_ Bridesmaids; EMILY _and_ PETER _stand facing each other for some moments in dead silence._) The pin is found--for I have trodden on it, and may, for aught I know, be lamed for life. Speak, EMILY, what is that maid's desert whose carelessness has led to this mishap?

_Emily_ (_in the desperate hope of shielding herself_). Why, should the fault be traced to any maid, instant dismissal shall be her reward, with a month's wages paid in lieu of notice!

_Peter_ (_with a passionless severity_). From your own lips I judge you, EMILY. Did they not own just now that you had heard the falling of a pin--yet heeded not? Behold the outcome of your negligence!

[_Extends his injured foot._

_Emily._ Oh, let me kiss the place and make it well!

_Peter_ (_coldly withdrawing foot_). Keep your caresses till I ask for them. My wound goes deeper than you wot of yet, and by that disregarded pin is pricked the iridescent bubble of Illusion!

_Emily_ (_slowly_). Indeed, I do not wholly comprehend.

_Peter._ Have patience and I will be plainer yet. Mine is a complex nature, EMILY; magnanimous, but still methodical. An injury I freely can forgive, forget it--(_striking his chest_)--never! She who leaves about pins on the floor to pierce a lover's foot, will surely plant a thorn within the side of him whose fate it is to be her husband!

_Emily_ (_dragging herself towards him on her knees_). Have pity on me, PETER; I was mad!

_Peter_ (_with emotion_). How can I choose but pity thee, poor soul, who, for the sake of temporary ease, hast forfeited the bliss that had been thine! You could not stoop to pick a pin up. Why? Because, forsooth, 'twas but a paltry pin! Yet, duly husbanded, that self-same pin had served you to secure your gaping train, your self-respect--and Me.

_Emily_ (_wailing_). What have I done?

_Peter._ I will not now reproach you, EMILY, nor would I dwell upon my wounded sole, the pain of which increases momently. I part from you in friendship, and in proof, that fated instrument I leave with you (_presenting her with the pin, which she accepts mechanically_) which the frail link between us twain has severed. I can dispense with it, for in my cuff (_shows her his coat-cuff, in which a row of pins'-heads is perceptible_) I carry others 'gainst a time of need. My poor success in life I trace to this--that never yet I passed a pin unheeded.

_Emily._ And is that all you have to say to me?

_Peter._ I think so--save that I shall wish you well, and pray that henceforth you may bear in mind what vast importance lies in seeming trifles.

_Emily_ (_with a pale smile_). PETER, your lesson is already learned, for precious has this pin become for me, since by its aid I gain oblivion--thus!

[_Stabs herself._

_Peter_ (_coldly_). Nay, these are histrionics, EMILY.

[_Assists her to sofa._

_Emily._ I'd skill enough to find a vital spot. Do not withdraw it yet--my time is short, and I have much to say before I die. (_Faintly._) Be gentle with my rabbits when I'm gone; give my canary chickweed now and then.... I think there is no more--ah, one last word--(_warmly_)--warn them they must not cut our wedding-cake, and then the pastrycook may take it back!

_Peter_ (_deeply moved_). Would you had shown this thoughtfulness before!

[_Kneels by the sofa._

_Emily._ 'Tis now too late, and clearly do I see that I was never worthy of you, PETER.

_Peter_ (_gently_). 'Tis not for me to contradict you now. You did your best to be so, EMILY!

_Emily._ A blessing on you for those generous words! Now tell me, PETER, how is your poor foot?

_Peter._ The agony decidedly abates, and I can bear a boot again.

_Emily._ Then I die happy!... Kiss me, PETER ... ah!

[_Dies._

_Peter._ In peace she passed away. I'm glad of that, although that peace was purchased by a lie. I shall not bear a boot for many days! Thus ends our wedding morn, and she, poor child, has paid the penalty of heedlessness!

[_Curtain falls, whereupon, unless Mr. Punch is greatly mistaken, there will not be a dry eye in the house._

* * * * *

NOTICE.--Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will in no case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule there will be no exception.