Later there was a
scene between a sad person made up as a Scotchman and another
equally sad person of color from the States. These times no English
musical show is complete unless the cast includes a North American
negro with his lips painted to resemble a wide slice of ripe
watermelon, singing ragtime ditties touching on his chicken and
his Baby Doll. This pair took the stage, all others considerately
withdrawing; and presently, after a period of heartrending
comicalities, the Scotchman, speaking as though he had a mouthful
of hot oatmeal, proceeded to narrate an account of a fictitious
encounter with a bear. Substantially this dialogue ensued:
THE SCOTCHMAN--He was a vurra fierce grizzly bear, ye ken; and he
rushed at me from behind a jugged rock.
THE NEGRO--Mistah, you means a jagged rock, don't you?
THE SCOTCHMAN--Nay, nay, laddie--a jugged rock.
THE NEGRO--Whut's dat you say? Whut--whut is a jugged rock?
THE SCOTCHMAN (forgetting his accent)--Why, a rock with a jug on
it, old chap. (A stage wait to let that soak into them in all its
full strength.) A rock with a jug on it would be a jugged rock,
wouldn't it--eh?
The pause had been sufficient--they had it now. And from all parts
of the house a whoop of unrestrained joy went up.
Witnessing such spectacles as this, the American observer naturally
begins to think that the English in mass cannot see a joke that
is the least bit subtle.
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