Page:Punch Vol 148.djvu/401

Railway Transport Officer (being carried off from his station in a British Supply Train). "Stop the train! Stop the train!!"

Chorus of French Railway Officials (mistaking his gestures). "Vive l'Angleterre! Vive la France!"

I forget when we—that is, our local choral society—first began to practise Acis and Galatea. I know it was long before the start of Lent. Anyway, a few weeks ago we decided that we knew enough about it to risk our annual public performance, and the posters were about to be issued. Then one evening the blow fell at a committee-meeting. We were busily discussing the all-important point of the colour of the paper for the programmes when Appleby (our only tenor who can take a top G without causing grievous bodily harm to himself and those in his immediate proximity) rushed into the room in a state of uncontrolled emotion. It had got about, he told us, that the composer was a German, and the tickets in consequence were going as flat as our choir when they sing an unaccompanied glee. "Old Mr. Chivers," said Appleby, "has been tackling me about it. He says it's a shame to perform the work of a German composer when now is the time to support our home products."

Then a long altercation ensued as to whether Handel was or was not to be considered a German.

"But surely he became naturalised," said Miss Mallows, appealing to Mr. Bowles, our conductor, "after spending all those years in England, paying English rates and English taxes and———"

"And writing Italian operas," added Appleby.

"I really don't know for certain," said our harassed conductor, who always received ten per cent. of the gate-money as remuneration for his services. "I—I think so."

"But he ought to know for certain," whispered Miss Parmenter to me. "It's his business. If he doesn't know, what's he doing with all those letters after his name, F.R.C.O., L.R.A.M., Mus. Bac., F.T.C.L., A.G.S.M.?"

"At all events," announced Miss Mallows solemnly, "I feel it my duty as a patriot to decline, under these doubtful circumstances, to assist at the concert."

Miss Mallows' powers of musical assistance are, I am afraid, long past their zenith, but her ability to dispose of tickets still remains undiminished. Hence her decision came rather in the nature of a Zeppelin.

"Handel must be interned," I said, "and we must revive an old favourite. As Mr. Chivers hinted, it's a fitting opportunity to perform a native work."

Mr. Bowles, who had just completed an oratorio on the subject of Og, King of Bashan, enthusiastically agreed.

"But it must be something we know pretty well," remarked Miss Parmenter.

"What about The May Queen? We know that backwards."

"The point is," I observed, "do we know it forwards?"

"Then there's The Lost Chord," suggested Miss Mallows quite seriously.

"And Eric; or, Little by Little," put in the irrepressible Appleby.

"The Lost Chord," I kindly explained, "is not, strictly speaking, a cantata. It is more usually performed as a cornet solo. Occasionally one hears of its being given as a song with harmonium accompaniment."

"I didn't mean The Lost Chord," Miss Mallows corrected. "I meant The Ancient Mariner."

"Why not try high and do The Dream of Gerontius?" said Appleby. "There's a fine chorus of Demons in it which would bring the house down."

"Don't you think," asked Miss Parmenter, "that we had better do something to keep it up? Besides, two rehearsals are not sufficient. We should have to call it The Nightmare of———"

"Stay!" cried our conductor. "Why not change the title of Acis and Galatea and the name of its composer?"

"Splendid!" I said. "But won't the words give us away?"

"Not they!" exclaimed Appleby. "Everyone always says that the words we sing are absolutely unintelligible."

*****

It only remains to add that we drew a bumper house for our "performance in concert form of Dido and Æneas, the operatic masterpiece of England's greatest musical genius, Henry Purcell."