The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1867-05-20
REFOBE THE FOGrLIGHTS;
nae PRIVAIE BOXES AT DRURY LANE.
OF PLAYHOUSE socIET
rho 4rentr.sixth of December, and DE post

bp
man and lampGghter are touching their mats
Tor Christmas boxes. The turkeys have been
carved. the plum-puddings have been eaten,
and the mince- pies disposed of. Bills are
mourning in upon paterfamilias, crossing-sweep-
ers, with sprigs of holly in their brooms, are
doubly assiduous in wishing pedestrians the
compliments of the season; crowds of holiday
makers throng the streets, and block up shop
windows, and Messrs. Tacks, Hammer, and
Bradawl are shaving away for the honor oi tne
Theatre Royal, to which they are attached, to
complete the preparations for the hrst repre-
sanitation of the "Grand and original Christ
mas pantomime of Harlequin King Canute,
or, The Fourteen Princesses OF Pearldom',
The good-natured father taking dress-circle
tickets at the box office thinks nothing OF the
burrving to and fro of the hammering, paint
ING and polishing going on within the dingy
brick walls; the languid gentleman who has
agreed to be present in private box at the
RTst representation of the pantomime, does
not trouble his head about the labor and the
talent employed in producing the grand scene
Of the Princess Peewit's Palace of Pearls; and
the students of the many-colored posters stuck
upon the hoardngs of the metropolis care
nothing respecting the means by which the
Demon Discord's dismal dungeon is to be
transformed into the realms of dazzling light.
Nessrs. Tacks, Hammer, and Bradawl slave,
without ceasing, surrounded by glue, beer
cans, shavings, and tools, while fairies in
dingy skirts practise their poses under the
direction of clustering ballet-master. But
what have the public to do with this, provided
1he curtain rises at the proper time on the
opening scene Of the grand new pantomime of
"Harlequin King Canute Z"
Ting-a-ring- sounds the prompter's
bell, and the orchestra strikes up an overture
of popular airs, to the great delight of the
gallery, who recognize the favorite tunes and
keep time with their feet, and to the still
greater pleasure of the Junior members of a
numerous family of children, who crowd one
another against the edge of a private box,
standing literally on the tiptoe of expectation,
and peer and peep and gaze in wonder, first
on the brilliantly lighted crowded house, and
then on the dull green baize which shuts out
fairyland.
Hark the prompter's bell second time
and the curtain rolls slowly up and discovers
the abode of the Demon Discord. Let you
and me, my dear Lounger, who have seen
similar scenes scores of times, turn our backs
upon the stage and watch the scenes of real
life in the auditorium of the theatre this box
ing night. That large box to the left, the
attendant would tell you, was taken a fort
night ago by Mr.. Sittyman and there is Mr..
Slttyman at the back, smiling good-naturedly,
and holding his youngest in his arms, quiet
ing her fears of the Demon Discord with acidu-
lated drops, and pointing out the beauties of
the Bower OF Everlasting Peas, with q fat,
Stubby finger.
Mr.. Sittyman, as perhaps you are aware is
hard-worklng merchant, not city magnate
but dull, steady, plodding man, never dream
ing OF soaring on the wings of gigantic specula-
ton, but content to ride to his office day by
day to go through the same routine his father
did before him-a man who goes home by the
aln
regularity of clockwork, and whose only dis
sipation in the year is this one visit to the
theatre with his children on boxing night
Have you any notion, my dear Lounger, what
a day this twenty-siXth of December has been
to Mrs. Sittyman at Peckham, preparing for
the annual festivity9 What ironing of muslin
hocks, sewing on of buttons to tiny garments,
and finally, what hustle and confusion, pack
ing the entire family into cab to set off to
meet papa in st. Alphage lane.
1t was a severe trial, doubtless, for Mr..
Adolphus Sittyman, aged seventeen, to enter
the theatre with a laughing sister of eight
clinging to him, and asking absurd questions
in a terribly loud voice, while a juvenile bro
ther clutched his coat-tails-the tails of that
sacred thing, a first dress coat-and shrieked
with laughter at some joke of papa's. A
severe trial for Mr.. Adolphus, who last panto-
mime season had only been Master Dolly in
Jacket and lay-down collars home from school
for the Christmas holidays, but who is now
man of business, glib in city quotations, cogni-
zant of Mincing Lane matters, and interested
in the rise and fall of stock. Next to Mr..
Adolphus in order of seniority is Miss Adel-
githa, a blooming damsel of ten, who has,
with Sittyman precocity, already attained the
''frst sweetheart" stage of life, has inter
changed sugarsticks with the object of her
affections, and has danced with him an entire
evening at Mrs. Mincing's ball. Alas, for the
fckleness of the female heart You may per-
ceive, my obserVingo Miss Adelgitha
this twenty-siXth of December is enslaved
anew by the Prince in the pantomime and
that her Arthur Henry, in tunic and
knickerbockers, is already forgotten for the
velvet-caped, silk-stockinged scion of a regal
house, who puns, sings, and dances with mock
hilarity before a sham castle on the boards of
the Theatre Royal Miss Rosalind Sttyman
is there too, with large, dark, wide-open
eyes, drinking in eagerly the wonderful sight
before her, and Master Horace lounges in front
OF her, dividing his attention between cake
and the antics of Demon Discord.
See my good friend, the grand transforma-
tion scene is about to commence. The dismal
dungeon of the Demon parts in the centre. and
the realms of dazzling light are disclosed. gilt
tering and sparkling with the greatest attain
able theatrical brilliancy. Every moment
fresh beauties are disclosed to the open-eyed
children, who clap their tiny hands together,
and vie with each other in explanatory ooh
my's, " till the eliminating point is reached,
and Clown welcomed with shout of delight
comes bounding on the STAGE followed by
Pantalocn, while Harlequin and ColumbinC
pose themselves in graceful attitudes in the
full glare of the colored fire.
II seems to me- my dear Lounger, though