University of Virginia Library

Induction: The Factory of Fun in the World of Waggery. The scene may be fancifully painted as the Workshop of Burlesque. Bales of goods respectively labelled “Pasquinades for Punch,” “Comicalities for Fun,” &c. On wing L.H. label “Puns provided for Evening Parties on the shortest Notice;” R.H. board inscribed “Old Jokes neatly repaired on reasonable Terms.”
Joketta, Parodina, Witticisma, Punarena, and Whimwag discovered.
Curtain rises to symphony of the following

Opening Chorus: Air, “Mynheer Van Dunck.”
Mind here we've fun,
Though our work's not done
Till the sun through the roof shines gaily;
Whilst we make the worst
Of the best puns first
That are making the world laugh daily!

Whim.
Singing, O!—

[Interrupted in song.
Joke.
Come, come! as overseer, be steady;
We've all been “singing, O!” too much already.
Our loom stands still, and so do we in one sense;
We want the raw material—

Whim.
Stuff and nonsense!

Joke.
That's immaterial; but we want the stuff;
As for the “nonsense,” you've supplied enough.

Whim.
What, not a pun?

Joke.
Not one—all used before.

Whim.
Make a new language, and invent some more.

Joke.
In every dictionary there's a baulker;
We've mangled Doctor Johnson.

Whim.
Have you? Walker!

Joke.
But see, our mistress, Fun, herself appears
Behind her hour—

Whim.
But much advanced in years.

[Music.
Enter Fun.
Joke.
Allow me to assist you.

Fun.
Many thanks!
I'm quite exhausted. Where are my quips and cranks,
My jokes, my repartees—all sadness scorning?

Whim.
Tom Hood looked in and took the last this morning.

Fun.
What, all my little ones?—Did you say all?
Not one remaining?

Whim.
None, though e'er so small,
That would the first row in the boxes reach.

Fun.
He has no children.

Joke.
Now, then, for a speech!

Fun.
O, now for ever farewell the tranquil jest,
The jocund joke that gave each meal the zest,
The spirit-stirring wit, ear-piercing pun,
The pomp and circumstance of glorious fun;
And gay Burlesque, that stood a friend in need,—
The funny fellow's occupation's gone indeed!

Whim.
Joe Miller's worn-out page but proves a slow thing;
There's nothing left—no jokes, no puns, no nothing.

Fun.
“Whatever is, is right,” says Pope; and so
Whatever isn't must be left, you know!

Whim.
Good logic, but this cheque it will not pay
[Presenting paper.
On you for a Burlesque—it's due to-day.

Fun.
Say that the bank's stopped payment.

Joke.
O, but yet
Think how they'll gaze on Fun in the Gazette!

Fun.
'Tis true, 'tis pity; well, then, for to-night,
I'll draw a bill, made payable at sight.
But on what story shall we build forsaken;
Our stories got from histories are taken.

Whim.
You cannot lodge on any, I would bet,
Where you shall find “This story to be let.”

Fun.
As for the time—why, take King Arthur's reign,
When errant knights for Beauty crossed the plain;
Stock it with all the jokes that you can find
The scribes who've come before have left behind.
And for this bill, 'twill run here as it stands,
If you'll accept and back it with your hands.

Solo: Air, “Long ago.”
Fun.