A JUVENILE AUDIENCE.

Dunstan Times, Issue 1045, 28 April 1882, Page 4

A JUVENILE AUDIENCE.

[By a Spectator ]

A scene was enacted at Covent Gar•den Theatre la te’-y which bears evidence ■of a aenerous disposition and a kindly theart. It was an oridnal scene, it had never been done before, it was not adapted from the French, nor i- deed from any language but that of our ■common natme, and as it turned i out the one prompt action of a benevolent man gave endless d-light to no fewer than 4000 children. I happened to be passing the portico of Covent Garden Theatre at the vei-y busiest time of the day. when my attention was not attracted, but rivetted, by what 1 suppose was the most curious scene that even London has witnessed.

Morning performances at pantomime time are apt to create some little confusion in the neighbourhood of Bow street, but here was something altogether abnormal, and a merry medley which at once amused and occupied the attention of the active police force Bow street was invaded by processions •of schools, and thick with miscellaneous vans, greengrocers’ carts, and otnnil uses. Gharry children in their white caps «nd prim Quaker dres-es ; Boys from the Foil- dling Hospital, preceded by a brass band; soldierboys, sador boys, youngsters from the Newport Market Refuge; cripples Gobbling gleefully along with their •crutches from the Eirston road; deaf and dumb children gesticrlating ;aa& nudging one another with painful 'vehemence; all sorts and conditions of •children front all sorts and conditions of poor and neglected parishes ; chil•dren professing every creed in the long ‘category of religions Protestant •children, Nonconformist children, chil•drenfrom the Jewish schools, children, ‘from Gatholic Brompton all poured in to Bow street when the clock shuck halfpast one. When I saw the greengrocers’ vims coming along in a merry (file ■with the gladsome urchins cheering on the roof, waving their hats and

'handkerchiefs and shouting as only London children can shout, I began ■to think that the kindly, genial -weather had been playing one of its accustomed pranks, and that the springtime had come with its envied at hipping Forest or Hampton •Court. What could it all mean 1 ■•Surely the liberal tendency of the age ihad not induced the authorities of the School Board to include a visit to a •Christmas pantomime as one of the ■elements of a thorough English edu•ciltion ; and it was not within the 'bounds of reason to believe that each individual child had been permitted to expend its pocket-money on a tbea tvical entertainment I was quickly •enlightened when I studied the programme seating forth the object of this •singular festival.

It had occurred to Mr W. T. In'grarn, the spirited and kind-hearted 'proprietor Of the Illustrated London ■L'eivs, that it would be the happiest -of happy thoughts if he could cram ■ Coven t Garden from floor to ceiling v th the poor, orphan, neglected, a d afflicted children of London who had never seen the inside of a theatre in the whole course of their lives Sitting one evening at the play during the holiday season, Mr Ingram had noticed how few children after all were there compared to the grown-up f iks, and he thought what pleasure he might happily give if he could hire the theatre for an afterno- n, employ the artists for one grand and special •occasion, and issue invitations to those sad little ones who are passed by and neglected when Christmas time comes round. The idea had no sooner flashed across Mr Ingram’s mind than it was instantly put into execution. Volunteers came forward to assist him, the organisation of this great children's treat became the fruitful result of man" brains, and when the most deserving and miscellaneous schools had been selected the fender of the feast made only one stipulation, and that was that the children were to he specially chosen, not for their intrinsic worth or excellence alone, but chiefly bee i use they had never seen a theatre •or a pantomime. All who have ever visited a theatre at Christmas know the effect of the -shrill delighted treble of but one ex•cited child. Magnify that one silvery laugh by thi'ee thousand and more, ■even then you will not understand the strange sensation caused by this vast •congregation of children. It was a ■scene I shall never forget, for it was a •scene that no one ever beheld before. It was not so much the sense of a sea of little faces that struck me as that s*mse of boundless exhilaration and ■delight. As ‘far as the eye could travel from the floor to the roof, piled -one noon another, tier upon ti x, in galleries, circles, pit, boxes, from sky light to basement, I could see nothing but children. There seemed to be a poem in every face, a story in every tow of benches. The orphans forgot their sorrow, and the poor enptes their pain, when, during these long :and never to-be-forgotten hours, they were indeed in fairyland, and indulged I their imaginations with scenes, pic-1 tares, colours, and beauty such as no •description can give or story-books ■can suggest at all. As it happens the devout Carden pantomime is essentially one for children. It lias chil■dren's scenes in abundance, it appeals to the childish fancy, children dance and gambol in the farm-yard, they Sauna out of the shoe of the little old taruanan w3jo «dadn’t -know what to do,

they bolster one another and play pranks, and steal the school birch and belabor the schoolmistress ; and intermingled with the elaborated ba'lets and processions, somewhat over the heads of a baby audience, are interludes of pure pantomime which I suppose never “ went” before in any theatre as they did on that day at Convent Garden. It may naturally be asked what was the impression given to the mind by this sudden revelation to 4,000 children sitting at a play and enjoying it, shouting at every song, and recognising every pantomime jest, not wijh thunders of applause, but literally with shrieks of delight. The reader, will, perhaps, be surprised to hear that the effect was one of very touching and tender significance. There was a note of such supreme pathos in the satisfaction, a suggestion of such relief from pent up misery and joylessness, that I saw the eyes, of some of the women present streaming with tears. How it was that this note ot satisfaction and cry ot content were so essentially in the minor key, I cannot say; but it is nevertheless true that when the voices mingled the effect was absolutely sad and almost reproachful. Gradually, however, the first impression wore away, the mind became accustomed both to the scene md the sound*, and we were able to observe more c’osely individual faces and special idiosyncrasies. 1 happened to be placed near the children of the Deaf and Dumb School, who occupied two or three rows of the stalls, and I was specially interested in noticing the effect of a pantomime upon those sad little ones, who have no language. It was verv curious; not hearing a word of what was said on the stage, nor of the applause that was so constant and complete, they still clapped their hands at the right moment, at the end of a song or at some gymnas:ic feat; but I observed that the attention of these afflicted children flagged at the spectacular portions of the play. In procession and show' they are uninterested, and for hallets’they had apparently no sympathy; hut directly the acting was in dumb show the dumb children woke to intelligence. Those agile artists known »s the Girards, whose entertainment is purely pantomimic, delighted the deaf and dumb children more than anything else, and these afflicted little ones were t!ie best possible audience for the harlequinade, seeming to awake from a lethargic slumber. But even here there was an exception tor I retain upon my mind the picture of one little deaf and dumb girl, leaning on the stall in front of her, stra ning her eyes, and with her little hands occasionally beating her brow, as if to ask for the language to express all that imagination pictured. —Daily Telegraph, January 13.