Our present Drama represents an attempt to illustrate upon the Music-hall stage the eternal truth that race will tell in the long run, despite—but, on second thoughts, it does not quite prove that, though it certainly shows the unerring accuracy of parental—at least, that is not exactly its tendency, either; and the fact is that Mr. Punch is more than a little mixed himself as to the precise theory which it is designed to enforce. He hopes, however, that, as a realistic study of Patrician life and manners, it will possess charms for a democratic audience.

COMING OF AGE.

A GRAND SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGICAL COMEDY-DRAMA IN ONE ACT.

Dramatis PersonÆ.

Scene—The Great Quadrangle of Hardbake Castle; banners, mottoes, decorations, &c. On the steps, r., the Earl, supported by his wife, son, and niece, is discovered in the act of concluding a speech to six tenantry, who display all the enthusiasm that is reasonably to be expected at nine-pence a night.

The Earl (patting Lord Bullsaye's shoulder). I might say more, Gentlemen, in praise of my dear son, Lord Bullsaye, here—I might dwell on his extreme sweetness, his strongly marked character, the variety of his tastes, and the singular attraction he has for children of all ages—but I forbear. I will merely announce that on this day—the day he has selected for attaining his majority—he has gratified us all by plighting troth to his cousin, the Lady Rose Caramel, with whose dulcet and clinging disposition he has always possessed the greatest natural affinity. [Cheers.

Lord Bullsaye (aside to Lady R.). Ah, Rose, would such happiness could last! But my heart misgives me strangely—why, I know not.

Lady R. Say not so, dear Bullsaye—have you not just rendered me the happiest little Patrician in the whole peerage?

Lord B. 'Tis true—and yet, and yet—pooh, let me snatch the present hour! [Snatches it.

The Earl. And now, let the Revels commence.

Enter the Korffdropp Troupe, who give their marvellous Entertainment, entitled, "The Three Surprise Packets;" after which—

Horehound. This will conclude the first portion of our Entertainment, Lords, Ladies, and Gentlemen; and, while my wife and pardner retires to change her costoom for the Second Part, I should be glad of the hoppertoonity of a short pussonal hexplanation with the noble Herl on my right.

[Exit Mrs. Horehound.

The Earl (graciously). I will hear you, fellow! (Aside.) Strange how familiar his features seem to me!

Horeh. The fact is, your Lordship's celebrating the coming of hage of the wrong heir. (Sensation—i.e., the six tenantry shift from one leg to the other, and murmur feebly.) Oh, I can prove it. Twenty-one years ago—(slow music)—I was in your Lordship's service as gamekeeper, 'ead whip, and hextry waiter. My son and yours was born the selfsame day, and my hold dutch was selected to hact as foster-mother to the youthful lord. Well—(tells a long, and not entirely original, story; marvellous resemblance between infants, only distinguishable by green and magenta bows, &c., &c.) Soon after, your Lordship discharged me at a moment's notice——

The Earl (haughtily). I did, upon discovering that you were in the habit of surreptitiously carrying off kitchen-stuff, concealed within your umbrella. But proceed with your narration.

Horeh. I swore to be avenged, and so—(common form again; the shifted bows)—consequently, as a moment's reflection will convince you, the young man on the steps, in the button-'ole and tall 'at, is my lawful son, while the real Viscount is—(presenting Coltsfoot, who advances modestly on his hands)—'ere!

[Renewed sensation.

The Earl. This is indeed a startling piece of intelligence. (To Lord B.) And so, Sir, it appears that your whole life has been one consistent imposition—a gilded lie?

Lord B. Let my youth and inexperience at the time, Sir, plead as my best excuse!

The E. Nothing can excuse the fact that you—you, a low-born son of the people, have monopolised the training, the tenderness and education, which were the due of your Patrician foster-brother. (To Coltsfoot.) Approach, my injured, long-lost boy, and tell me how I may atone for these years of injustice and neglect!

Colts. Well, Guv'nor, if you could send out for a pot o' four arf, it 'ud be a beginning, like.

The E. You shall have every luxury that befits your rank, but first remove that incongruous garb.

Colts. (to Lord B.). These 'ere togs belong to you now, young feller, and I reckon exchange ain't no robbery.

Lord B. (with emotion, to Countess). Mother, can you endure to behold your son in tights and spangles on the very day of his majority?

Countess (coldly). On the contrary, it is my wish to see him attired as soon as possible, in a more appropriate costume.

Lord B. (to Lady R.). Rose, you, at least, have not changed? Tell me you will love me still even on the precarious summit of an acrobat's pole!

Lady Rose (scornfully). Really the presumptuous familiarity of the lower orders is perfectly appalling!

The Earl (to Countess, as Lord B. and Coltsfoot retire to exchange costumes). At last, Pauline, I understand why I could never feel towards Bullsaye the affection of a parent. Often have I reproached myself for a coldness I could not overcome.

Countess. And I too! Nature was too strong for us. But, oh, the joy of recovering our son—of finding him so strong, so supple, so agile. Never yet has our line boasted an heir who can feed himself from a fork strapped on to his dexter heel!

The E. (with emotion). Our beloved, boneless boy!

[Re-enter Coltsfoot in modern dress, and Lord B. in tights.

Colts. Don't I look slap-up—O.K. and no mistake? Oh, I am 'aving a beano!

All. What easy gaiety, and unforced animation!

The E. My dear boy, let me present you to your fiancÉe. Rose, my love, this is your legitimate lover.

Colts. Oh, all right, I've no objections—on'y there'll be ructions with the young woman in the tight-rope line as I've been keepin' comp'ny with—that's all!

The E. Your foster-brother will act as your substitute there. (Proudly.) My son must make no mÉsalliance!

Rose (timidly). And, if it would give you any pleasure, I'm sure I could soon learn the tight-rope!

Colts. Not at your time o' life, Miss, and besides, 'ang it, now I'm a lord, I can't have my wife doin' nothing low!

The E. Spoken like a true Burntalmond! And now let the revels re-commence.

[Re-enter Mrs. Horehound.

Horeh. (to Lord B.). Now then, stoopid, tumble, can't you—what are you 'ere for?

Lord B. (to the Earl). Since it is your command, I obey, though it is ill tumbling with a heavy heart!

[Turns head over heels laboriously.

Colts. Call that a somersault? 'Ere, 'old my 'at (giving tall hat to Lady R.) I'll show yer 'ow to do a turn.

[Throws a triple somersault.

All. What condescension! How his aristocratic superiority is betrayed, even in competition with those to the manner born!

Mrs. Horeh. (still in ignorance of the transformation). Halt! I have kept silence till now—even from my husband, but the time has come when I must speak. Think you that if he were indeed a lord, he could turn such somersaults as those? No—no. I will reveal all. (Tells same old story—except that she herself from ambitious motives transposed the infants' bows.) Now, do with me what you will!

Horeh. Confusion, so my ill-judged action did but redress the wrong I designed to effect!

The E. (annoyed). This is a serious matter, reflecting as it does upon the legitimacy of my lately recovered son. What proof have you, woman, of your preposterous allegation?

Mrs. H. None, my lord,—but these—

[Exhibits two faded bunches of ribbon.

The E. I cannot resist such overwhelming evidence, fight against it as I may.

Lord B. (triumphantly). And so—oh, Father, Mother, Rose—dear, dear Rose—I am no acrobat, after all!

The E. (sternly). Would you were anything half so serviceable to the community, Sir! I have no superstitious reverence for rank, and am, I trust, sufficiently enlightened to discern worth and merit—even beneath the spangled vest of the humblest acrobat. Your foster-brother, brief as our acquaintance has been, has already endeared himself to all hearts, while you have borne a trifling reverse of fortune with sullen discontent and conspicuous incapacity. He has perfected himself in a lofty and distinguished profession during years spent by you, Sir, in idly cumbering the earth of Eton and Oxford. Shall I allow him to suffer by a purely accidental coincidence? Never! I owe him reparation, and it shall be paid to the uttermost penny. From this day, I adopt him as my eldest son, and the heir to my earldom, and all other real and personal effects. See, Robert Henry, that you treat your foster-brother as your senior in future!

Colts. (to Lord B.). Way-oh, ole matey, I don't bear no malice, I don't! Give us your dooks. [Offering hand.

The C. Ah, Bullsaye, try to be worthy of such generosity!

[Lord B. grasps Coltsfoot's hand in silence.

Lady Rose. And pray, understand that, whether Mr. Coltsfoot be viscount or acrobat, it can make no difference whatever to the disinterested affection with which I have lately learnt to regard him.

[Gives her hand to Coltsfoot, who squeezes it with ardour.

Colts. (pleasantly). Well, Father, Mother, your noble Herlship and Lady, foster-brother Bullsaye, and my pretty little sweetart 'ere, what do you all say to goin' inside and shunting a little garbage, and shifting a drop or so of lotion, eh?

The E. A most sensible suggestion, my boy. Let us make these ancient walls the scene of the blithest—ahem!—beano they have ever yet beheld!

[Cheers from Tenantry, as the Earl leads the way into the Castle with Mrs. Horehound, followed by Horehound with the Countess and Coltsfoot with Lady Rose, Lord Bullsaye, discomfited and abashed, entering last as Curtain falls.

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