ACT III.—MIME.

Tuapeka Times, Volume XX, Issue 1415, 24 December 1887, Page 2 (Supplement)

ACT lII.— MIME.

Scene.— Street.

Dramatis Persons.

Comic Man op the Company (as street conjuror) and street crowd— men, women and children.

A pianist should play popular street airs. Comic man in grotesque costume, a red scarf round his head for a turban, a lady's opera cloak over one shoulder, and two sbawls of different bright colors, one tied before and one behind. A small papier-mache waiter will do for a tambourine on which the actor must beat with his knuckles He should have a plate or, better still, wooden bowl and a «tick. The stick he should try to keep in motion like a street conjuror. He must pretend to swallow yards of colored paper, which he may unwind comically. He must dance and sing and talk incessantly. Conjuror. — " Now, good people, here I am, the wonderfullest conjuror in the two hemispheres. Just arrived from the capital of Persia, which I had to leave because I wouldn't marry the Shah's second cousin's aunt's nephew's great grandmother." (Ha ! ha 1 from the crowd. Ain't he a funny man !) " Fact, I assure you. Now please to watch me carefully while I make my usual dinner." (Swallows colored paper and smacks his lips.) " Capital, good— good as roast goose and better' n plum puddin'. Hi, ho, ho!"' (Places bowl on stick, twirls it, and walks around. Stops and sings) : " I'm the great Kamishamon I really am — no gammon, I am, I am, I am. I can swallow liquid fire, Or a mile of fencing wire, Sleep on a steeple spire, Outbawl the best town crier, Than crow I'm swifter flyer, Than eagle can rise higher ; I'm a bird th.ey call the lyre, And I hope you me admire, And your patience I don't tire.

" Roll up, roll np— now ia the time to patronise genius, and reward merit. Anything from a ten pound note to a thousand taken without making a face over it," (man gives him a threepenny bit. He tries it with his teeth, then pretends to swallow it.) Ha ! ho ! ha ! That's what does me good. My mother used to give me threepenny bits in my Spartan broth wl c i I was an innocent little boy. Ho ! ha ! ho ! I'm hungry for threepenny bits. Any more, any more*, any morel (walks round each time— sings.)

" There was an old woman in Maori land, She lived on potatoes so long, understand, That shifljrew a big tuber at the tip of her

nose, And the praties all sprouted from each of her toes. This fanny old woman, this queer old woman, Who lived on potatoes in Maori land.

(All this time he dances around, holding tambourine forth, into which the crowd drop money. Suddenly stops. Accompanied by piano, choosing an appropriate air he sings:— ) <% A secret between vs — now pray don't you tell, At financing, my friends, I beat Julius Yogel. I'm awake, I'm awake — know what I'm about, I may be small beer, but I'm not Bobert Stout. Gay, witty and lively, and up to my laiks,

Yet as wise an owl, or Sir Enery Parkes ; No Gillies can beat me at compromise— no. Nor Deakin approach me with eloquent blow, When on the rampage to my wit 1 give vent, Outchatter Dave Gaunson, or out Herod Bent. Like Graham Berry at speaking, I'm good at a rally, I can talk by the yard like William Bede Dalley. Sam Griffiths, of Queensland, though my intimate friend, I'm afraid I must cut if his ways he don't mend. And take to Mcllwraith once more, though I doubt He'd ever get in, if Griffiths got out. Thousrh I drink all I can, I'd have you to

know, I'm a better teetotaller than Mr. Monro What's all this about, perhaps you may sa> Well, I'll come back and tell you soun other fine day." Exit, followed by crowd, and singing, "I'm the great Kamisbanmon, I am without any gammon, I am, I am, I am."