|
|
||
|
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER
|
||
|
|
||
|
IT is some years now, since we first conceived a strong vene-
ration for Clowns, and an intense anxiety to know what they did with themselves out of pantomime time, and off the stage. As a child, we were accustomed to pester our relations and friends with questions out of number concerning these gentry; —whether their appetite for sausages and such like wares was always the same, and if so, at whose expense they were main- tained; whether they were ever taken up for pilfering other people's goods, or were forgiven by everybody because it was only done in fun; how it was they got such beautiful com- plexions, and where they lived; and whether they were born Clowns, or gradually turned into Clowns as they grew up. On these and a thousand other points our curiosity was insatiable, i Nor were our speculations confined to Clowns alone: they ex- tended to Harlequins, Pantaloons, and Columbines, all.of whom j we believed to be real and veritable personages, existing in the i same forms and characters all the year round. How often have' we wished that the Pantaloon were our god-father! and how often thought that to marry a Columbine would be to attain the i highest pitch of all human felicity! I
The delights—the ten thousand million delights of a panto-
mime—come streaming upon us now,—even of the pantomime! which came lumbering down in [Richardson's waggons at fair- a time to the dull little town in which we had the honour to bej '--'brought up, and which a long row of small boys, with frills as; |
||
|
|
||