The Sun.
London, England, 1864-03-01 00:00:00

BUNKUM MULLER.

Mr. Sothern has now completely worked himself
into the new character provided for him by Mr. H.
F. Craven in his whimsical little extravaganza
entitled " Bunkum Muller." Every night since its
production the audience have been delighted beyond
measure, and they have very wisely, in our opinion,
given themselves up to the enjoyment of the fun,
without for one moment troubling themselves with
the controversy at present raging in a small but
peculiar circle as to whether Mr. Sothern is or is
not a versatile actor. Supposing he is declared not
to be so by the very learned few now intensely oc-
cupied with the question, their fiat certainly will
not in the slightest degree diminish his popularity;
whilst, on tho other hand, if it should be decided the
contrary way, it certainly cannot heiheighten it. There-
fore the audience, in our opinion, do well to enjoy
poor Bunkum Muller'a perplexities, and to leave
to ethers the trouble of solving a problem
in which not one person in five thousand
takes the slightest interest. Many "wise in
their own conceit" saw nothing original in
Lord Dundreary; but, previous to the arrival
of Mr. Sothern in London, we never had anything
of the kind before, neither had a single one of the
many jealous professionals ever attempted anything
of a similar description. Genuine talent is sure of
reward, and in that was the secret of Mr. Sotherns
immense success. The part of Bunkum Muller
differs in every essential from the senseless
idiotic " swell " Lord Dundreary. Bunkum is an
author—en unappreciated author, and in place of
the exquisitely fitting coat, ezc., we have the thread-
bare, shabby, dressing gown and delapidated
slippers which are continually getting entangled
with the ragged carpet, threatening every minute
to bring their wearer down with a run. The change
is perfect both in face, voice, and action. The fun
commences as soon as the curtain rises, when the
unhappy Bunkum rushes into the apartment (we
beg pardon, his study) to avoid the " silvery tones"
of his shrewish wife whom he has married for re-
venge and—money. He takes a piaster of Paris
bust of Shakspere into his confidence, and then the
unappreciated bard tells the story of all his dismal
wrongs to his attentive listener. The fun of the situa-
tion is greatly heightened by the interogation put
every now and then to the plaster bust, viz.,
"Would you stand it, Bill ?" In the midst of his

troubles he is afflicted with the visits of organ-
grinders, &c.; and, to bring the fun up to a culmi•.
uating point, he discharges a pistol accidentally,
and imagines he has shot his first love, who ecru•
pies a zoom precisely opposite his, but on the other
side of the street. Then, the imaginary speech of
his prosecuting counsel is another side-splitting
effort, and we mistake not if the audience don't
regret—(selfish individuals !)—the fortunate turn
that takes place in poor Bunkum's affairs. The
shot fired, fortunately, has penetrated nothing but
a mahogany chest of drawers. The supposed dead
husband of Bunkum's wife again turns up—thus he
is enabled to marry his Julia—a chancery suit
is 'decided in his favour, and oh, joy
of joys! he receives a letter informing him that a
tragedy he has sent to Mr. Buckstone will be "pro-
duced" on application. The idea of seeing his own
creations embodied on the stage has such an effect
on Bunkum that he treats his audience to a taste of
its quality, at the conclusion of which the curtain
is brought down amidst immense laughter and
applause.
The extravaganzl, or whatever it may be termed,
has been written merely as a vehicle for Mr. Sothern,
and as such it suits its end remarkably well.
but to that gentleman alone will it be dependent
for the length of time it will keep possession of the
stage. For him alone it has been written, and ho
alone is able to give a true and entertaining re-
presentation of Bunkum Muller.

EPITAPH ON LORD WEsTnußY:—The following
has been calculated through the lons:
" Richard Baron Westbury,
Lord lligh Chancellor of England.
He was an eminent Christian,
An energetic and successful Statesman,
And a still more eminent and successful Judge.
During his three years' tenure of office,
He abolished
The time-honoured institution of the Insolvents' Court,

The ancient mode of conveying land,
And
The Eternity of Punishment.
Towards tho close of his earthly career,
In the judicial Committee of the Privy Council,
He dismissed Hell with costs,
And took away from orthodox members of the
Church of England
Their last hope of everlasting damnation."

PAT MALONEY was pacing the parlour in a great
rage; and he exploded in these words, as Pompilard
present° I himself Ar'n't ye ashamed to look an honest
man in the face, yer desateful ould sinner What's the
bother, now, Pat ? Whose mare's dead ?' said Pompilard.
—' Whose mare's dead, yer wicked ould man ? Is that the
kind o' triflin' ye think is pin' down wid Pat Maloney ?
Look at that Well, what of it ?'—' What of it ?
See the cracks of it, bedad, and the dirt of it, and the damp
of it, and hearken to the rats of it, yer wicked ould man I
What of it? Seo that baste of a cockroach comin' out as
confidint as ye plaza, and straddlin' across the floor. Smell
that smell up there in the corner. Dead rats, by jabbers I
And this is the entertainment, is it, ye bring a decent family
to, that wasn't born to stenches and filthiness I Typhus
and small-pox in every plank under the feet
of ye! And a sick soldier ye've got in the
house, too; and becaus3 ho wasn't quite kilt
down in them swamps on the Chickahominy, ye think ye'l I
stink him to death in this hole of all the nastiness Mr.
Maloney, this is my house, sir, such as it is, and I must re-
quest you either to walk ext of it or to keep a civil tongue
in your head.'—' Hoc, I Ye think to come the dignified over
me, do yer, yer silly ould man ! I'm not to be scaret by
any such airs. I toll ye it's bastely to bring docent women
and children inter sich a cesspool as this. By jabbers, I
shall have to s'op at Barker's, as I go back, and take a
bath.'—' Maloney, leave the house.'—' Lavo the house,
is it! Not till I'm ready, will I lave the house on the
biddin' of the likes of a man who hasn't more regard
for the mother that bare him nor to do what you've
been doin,' yer ould barbarryan.'—` Quit the house,
I say ! If yon think I'm going to borrow
money of a beggarly Irish tailor, you'll find
yourself mistaken, Mr. Pat Maloney ?' —o' its that game
yez thinkin' to cume on me, is it ? Ha! By jabbers,
I'm ready for you there too l He's a beggarly Irish tailor,
is he ? Then why did you have the likes o' him at all ycr
grand parties at Redeliti? Why did ye have him and his
at all yer little family hops ? Why couldn't ye git through
a forenoon, yer ould hyppercrit, widout the beggarly Irish
tailor, to play billiards wid ye, or go a fishin' wid ye, or a
sailin wid yer ?—' I don't choose to keep up the acquaint-
ance Mr. Maloney, now that you are poor.'—That's the
biggest lie ye iver tould in yer life, yer ould chute! Do you
tell me I lie ? Out of my house 1 Pay your own debts,
you blackguard Paddy, before you come playing limit of
your ruoueY to a geutleraeu like me,'"