Dramatis PersonÆ.

Scene I.—Exterior of the Duke's Mansion in Euston Square by night. On the right, a realistic Moon (by kind permission of Professor Herkomer) is rising slowly behind a lamp-post. On left centre, a practicable pillar-box, and crossing, with real mud. Slow Music, as Miss Jenny Jinks enters, in rags, with broom. Various Characters cross the street, post letters, &c.; Miss Jinks follows them, begging piteously for a copper, which is invariably refused, whereupon she assails them with choice specimens of street sarcasm—which the Lady may be safely trusted to improvise for herself.

Miss Jenny Jinks (leaning despondently against pillar-box, on which a ray of limelight falls in the opposite direction to the Moon).

Ah, this cruel London, so marble-'arted and vast,
Where all who try to act honest are condemned to fast!

Enter two Burglars, cautiously.

First B. (to Miss J. J.) We can put you up to a fake as will be worth your while,
For you seem a sharp, 'andy lad, and just our style!

[They proceed to unfold a scheme to break into the Ducal abode, and offer Miss J. a share of the spoil, if she will allow herself to be put through the pantry window.

Miss J. J. (proudly). I tell yer I won't 'ave nothink to do with it, fur I ain't been used
To sneak into the house of a Dook to whom I 'aven't been introdooced!

Second Burglar (coarsely). Stow that snivel, yer young himp, we don't want none of that bosh!

Miss J. J. (with spirit). You hold your jaw—for, when you opens yer mouth, there ain't much o' yer face left to wash!

[The Burglars retire, baffled, and muttering. Miss J. leans against pillar-box again—but more irresolutely.

I've arf a mind to run after 'em, I 'ave, and tell 'em I'm game to stand in!...
But, ah,—didn't my poor mother say as Burglary was a Sin!

[Duke crosses stage in a hurry; as he pulls out his latchkey, a threepenny-bit falls unregarded, except by the little Sweeper, who pounces eagerly upon it.

What's this? A bit o' good luck at last for a starvin' orfin boy!
What shall I buy? I know—I'll have a cup of cawfy, and a prime saveloy!
Ah,—but it ain't mine—and 'ark ... that music up in the air!

[A harp is heard in the flies.

Can it be mother a-playin' on the 'arp to warn her boy to beware?
(Awestruck.) There's a angel voice that is sayin' plain (solemnly) "Him as prigs what isn't his'n,
Is sure to be copped some day—and then—his time he will do in prison!"

[Goes resolutely to the door, and knocks—The Duke throws open the portals.

Miss J. J. If yer please, Sir, was you aware as you've dropped a thruppenny-bit?

The Duke (after examining the coin.) 'Tis the very piece I have searched for everywhere! You rascal, you've stolen it!

Miss J. J. (bitterly). And that's 'ow a Dook rewards honesty in this world!

[This line is sure of a round of applause.

The Duke (calling off). Policeman, I give this lad in charge for a shameless attempt to rob,

Enter Policeman.

Unless he confesses instantly who put him up to the job!

Miss J. J. (earnestly). I've told yer the bloomin' truth, I 'ave—or send I may die!
I'm on'y a Crossing-sweeper, Sir, but I'd scorn to tell yer a lie!
Give me a quarter of a hour—no more—just time to kneel down and pray,
As I used to at mother's knee long ago—then the Copper kin lead me away.

[Kneels in lime-light. The Policeman turns away, and uses his handkerchief violently; the Duke rubs his eyes.

The Duke. No, blow me if I can do it, for I feel my eyes are all twitching!
(With conviction.) If he's good enough to kneel by his mother's side, he's good enough to be in my kitching!

[Duke dismisses Constable, and, after disappearing into the Mansion for a moment, returns with a neat Page's livery, which he presents to the little Crossing-sweeper.

Miss J. J. (naÏvely). 'Ow much shall I ask for on this, Sir? What! Yer don't mean to say they're for me!
Am I really to be a Page to one of England's proud aristocra-cee?

[Does some steps.

Mechanical change to Scene II.—State Apartment at the Duke's. Magnificent furniture, gilding, chandeliers. Suits of genuine old armour. Statuary (lent by British and Kensington Museums).

Enter Miss J., with her face washed, and looking particularly plump in her Page's livery. She wanders about stage, making any humorous comments that may occur to her on the armour and statuary. She might also play tricks on the Butler, and kiss the maids—all of which will serve to relieve the piece by delicate touches of comedy, and delight a discriminating audience.

Enter the Duke.

I hope, my lad, that we are making you comfortable here? [Kindly.

Miss J. J. Never was in such slap-up quarters in my life, Sir, I'll stick to yer, no fear!

[In the course of conversation the Duke learns with aristocratic surprise, that the Page's Mother was a Singer at the Music Halls.

Miss J. J. What, don't know what a Music-'all's like? and you a Dook! Well, you are a jolly old juggins! 'Ere, you sit down on this gilded cheer—that's the ticket—I'll bring you your champagne and your cigars—want a light? (Strikes match on her pantaloons.) Now you're all comfortable.

The Duke sits down, smiling indulgently, out of her way, while she introduces her popular Vocal Character Sketch, of which space only permits us to give a few specimen verses.

First the Champion Comic
Steps upon the stage;
With his latest "Grand Success."
Sure to be the rage!
Sixty pounds a week he
Easily can earn;
Round the Music Halls he goes,
And does at each a "turn."

Illustration.

Undah the stors in a sweet shady dairl,
I strolled with me awm round a deah little gairl,
And whethaw I kissed har yaw'd like me to tairl—
Well, I'd rawthah you didn't inquiah!

All golden her hair is,
She's Queen of the Fairies,
And known by the name of the lovely Mariah,
She's a regular Venus,
But what passed between us,
I'd very much rawthah you didn't inquiah!

Next the Lady Serio,
Mincing as she walks;
If a note's too high for her,
She doesn't sing—she talks,
What she thinks about the men
You're pretty sure to learn,
She always has a hit at them,
Before she's done her "turn!"

Illustration.

You notty young men, ow! you notty young men!
You tell us you're toffs, and the real Upper Ten,
But behind all your ears is the mark of a pen!
So don't you deceive us, you notty young men!

Miss J. J. (concluding). And such, Sir, are these entertainments grand,
In which Mirth and Refinement go 'and-in-'and!

[As the Duke is expressing his appreciation of the elevating effect of such performances, the Butler rushes in, followed by two flurried Footmen.

Butler. Pardon this interruption, my Lord, but I come to announce the fact
That by armed house-breakers the pantry has just been attacked!

Duke. Then we'll repel them—each to his weapons look!
I know how to defend my property, although I am a Dook!

Miss J. (snatching sword from one of the men-in-armour).
With such a weapon I their hash will settle!
You'll lend it, won't yer, old Britannia Metal?
[Shouts and firing without; the Footmen hide under sofa.
Let flunkeys flee—though danger may encircle us,
A British Buttons ain't afeard of Burgulars!

[Tremendous firing, during which the Burglars are supposed to be repulsed with heavy loss by the Duke, Butler, and Page.

Miss J. 'Ere—I say, Dook, I saved yer life, didn't yer know?

(A parting shot, upon which she staggers back with a ringing scream.)

The Brutes! they've been and shot me!... Mother!... Oh!

[Dies in lime-light and great agony; the Footmen come out from under sofa and regard with sorrowing admiration the lifeless form of the Little Crossing-sweeper, which the Duke, as curtain falls, covers reverently with the best table-cloth.