Memories Are Made Of This. Dame Hilda: I am not terribly well upon Shakespeare, but isn't it in one of his clever little pieces that somebody says to somebody else? ‘There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy, Horatio.’ Or did I read it in one of the Captain Hornblower books? I must remember to ask Evadne, I bet she knew him. I think that saying is very true, there are things that simply cannot be explained. Take for instance, recently. Evadne and I had a very curious experience. It all began one Tuesday. We were in the Willow plate tea room, having tea, and selection of their gorgeous cakes. {Cake shop.} Dame Hilda: Aren't you going to have another cake, Evadne? Dr. Hinge: I’m not sure yet, I might. Dame Hilda: The last one is yours, you know. Dr. Hinge: Yes, I know. Dame Hilda: If you want it? Dr. Hinge: I suppose you want it, do you? Dame Hilda: Oh, I've already had my fair share, dear. Dr. Hinge: You can say that again. Dame Hilda: But we wouldn't want to insult the proprietress by leaving one on the plate, especially such a lovely one as that. I mean, Alyssum Meringues are my favourites. Dr. Hinge: They're all your favourites, Hilda. Dame Hilda: Yes, but some are even more favourite than others like the Alyssum Meringue. However, I know you're rather partial to those as well so I decided to leave it for you. Dr. Hinge: That was very considerate, of you. Dame Hilda: I wish I hadn't now. I wish I'd left you the cream slice instead. Mind I adore cream slices, but not quite as much as I adore an Alison Meringue. Dr. Hinge: Oh, go along then, Hilda, take it. Dame Hilda: Well, if you're sure you don't want it, dear? Dr. Hinge: Oh for goodness sake, here. I hope it makes you sick! Dame Hilda: Thank you, Evadne. Mmmm, Evadne it's absolutely gorgeous! Dr. Hinge: Oh, I am glad, you worked so hard for it. Dame Hilda: I say, Evadne? Dr. Hinge: What? Dame Hilda: Look over there. Dr. Hinge: Don't speak with your mouth full, Hilda! Dame Hilda: Sorry! Dr. Hinge: Well, what is it? Dame Hilda: Over there, that rather distinguished looking man sitting at that table in the alcove. Dr. Hinge: What about him? Dame Hilda: He keeps looking at me. Dr. Hinge: He's probably never seen anybody eat so many cakes at a single sitting. Either that, or he's fascinated by the blob of cream on the end of your nose. Ha, ha, ha! Dame Hilda: Oh, Evadne, I haven’t. Dr. Hinge: Yes, you have, and now you're going cross-eyed trying to see it. Dame Hilda: Well, I can't very well try to lick it off with him watching. Dr. Hinge: Don't you have a paper napkin? Dame Hilda: Well, I did, dear, but it's in my handbag wrapped around the chocolate eclair I'm taking home for later. Dr. Hinge: Hilda, you are becoming a cakeaholic. Dame Hilda: Oh, Evadne, he's standing up. I say, I think he's coming across. Dr. Hinge: You’d better borrow my napkin. Vern: I’m over here, sweetie! Irene: Oh, darling, am I dreadfully late? Vern: No, no, sweetie. Dame Hilda: Seems he was just standing up to welcome sweetie, Evadne. He's got nice manners, hasn't he? and lovely silver hair. Dr. Hinge: I wonder what colour hers is, when it isn't dyed? Dame Hilda: Oh, I don't think that's dyed, dear, that's a wig. You don't have long black hair like that at her age, even if you live at the hairdressers. Dr. Hinge: Well, you're the expert. Dame Hilda: Evadne, now she's looking at me as well, I'm not showing anything I shouldn't, am I? Dr. Hinge: Not as far as I can see. Dame Hilda: Oh, I say, I think they're both coming over, is my nose all right? Dr. Hinge: Well, it's a bit late for plastic surgery. Dame Hilda: You're a big help aren't you? Vern: Excuse me, ladies. I do hope you’ll pardon this intrusion, but it is Hilda Bracket is it not? Dame Hilda: Well, dear, it might be. Dr. Hinge: Oh, don’t be so silly, yes, it is Hilda Bracket. Irene: There you are, darling, I told you I never forget a face. Vern: Nor I sweetie, nor, I. Names alas are the rock upon which I now occasionally falter. Irene: And just think that when I first met him, he was billed as the amazing Mr. Memory. Vern: I can remember, I can remember, what was it I used to say after that, sweetie? Irene: No, no, my darling, it's all water under the pier. Dr. Hinge: I don't wish to appear rude, but do we know you? Irene: Well, I don't think I know you, no. Vern: Nor do I, sweetie? Irene: No, no, I don't think you do, darling. I certainly don't remember your face. Dame Hilda: And it's not one you'd be likely to forget if you'd ever seen it. But you say you know me? Vern: You probably won't remember us. It was yonks ago. Irene: Blackpool, darling. You were at the opera house with the Rosa Charles company and we were on the north pier with Dampier's dogs and Mad Mac and his musical maniacs. Dame Hilda: Oh, of course. Yes, yes, it's all coming back. Dr. Hinge: It’s those cakes you were stuffing down. Dame Hilda: Yes, I thought your faces were familiar. Weren’t we in the same digs for a while? Irene: I knew you'd remember us. Dame Hilda: Of course. You’re, um, erm, erm, erm? Vern: Vern. Irene: And Irene. Dame Hilda: Of course. Irene: Happy feet in harmony, darling. That's what we were in those days. Dame Hilda: They did a wonderful dancing act, Evadne. Dr. Hinge: I didn't imagine they worked in a shoe shop. What happened to Mr. Memory? Irene: Oh, we forgot about him, darling. As I said, I recognised you, Hilda, but not your charming companion. Dame Hilda: Let me see now, Evadne, where on earth would you have been at that time? Dr. Hinge: I don't know. Wherever it was, I'm jolly glad I was there. Dame Hilda: It was such a long time ago. Ah, yes, yes, I remember. It was when you were away being Doctored. She was at the Royal Academy of Music, you know. This is Dr. Evadne Mona Montpelier Hinge. Evadne, meet Vern and Irene. Dr. Hinge: How'd you do? Vern: Delighted to meet you. Irene: You must be the friend Hilda used to talk about. The one who wore gum boots and played the banjo. Dame Hilda: She still does, alas. Dr. Hinge: But if anyone's expecting a tune, I'm sorry, I don't have the banjo with me. Dame Hilda: I'm sorry Irene, do sit down, my dear. Dr. Hinge: And rest those happy feet. Irene: I'd absolutely adore too darlings, but I'm afraid we're going to have to fly. Vern likes at least 90 minutes head down before we go up. Vern: And we go up at seven. Dr. Hinge: In flames or smoke? Irene: Good heavens, no dear, curtain up. Dr. Hinge: Oh, curtain. Irene: Yes. We're still in the business, you know. Dame Hilda: After all these years? Vern: Though we don't dance any more. A few years back, my left leg suddenly packed up in the finale of Jack and Beanstalk. Irene: Yes, you see he was dancing with the cow, and the cow went right over the top. Dame Hilda: They do, dear, they do. I made a vow never to work with cows. Dr. Hinge: And then look what happened in the Isle of Man. Dame Hilda: That was a donkey, dear. Irene: And now, my dear, we're really going to have to fly. Tell you what, if you've nothing on tonight, why don't you come and catch up on the show? Vern: We’re playing the co-op hall here, just the one night. Irene: It’s a national tour darling. There is talk of going into the west end. Dame Hilda: Oh, yes? Irene: We'll leave you a couple of comps at the box office. Vern: And perhaps we might have a bite of supper together afterwards? Irene: And a good old gossip. Dame Hilda: That sounds lovely, doesn't it, Evadne? Dr. Hinge: Sounds wonderful. Irene: We'll see you then, darlings. Goodbye. Vern: Bye. Dame Hilda: Goodbye. Dr. Hinge: Bye. Dame Hilda: Well, fancy running into them after all this time. Mind, I'd never have recognised them. Dr. Hinge: Shame they had to go and recognise you, wasn't it? Dame Hilda: Oh, they didn't tell us what the show was, did they? Dr. Hinge: Well, it’s hardly likely to be Romeo and Juliet, is it? Dame Hilda: Oh, no, he'd never be able to climb the balcony, not with his gammy legs. Dr. Hinge: Honestly, Hilda! Dame Hilda: Well, talking to Evadne on the way home, I came to remember more and more about Vern and Irene. And I was pretty sure that Maud would remember them too. Anyway, when we got back to the old manse, we found Maud sitting in the drawing room. {Drawing room.} Dame Hilda: Oh, Maud, don't get up, dear. Maud: Oh, Dame ‘ilda, you're back. I've been ‘aving a bit of a sit down. Dr. Hinge: You were having a bit of a sit down when we went out. Maud: So I've been ‘aving another bit of a sit down, ‘aven't I, Doctor? Dr. Hinge: And, I suppose you'd like me to make you a cup of tea, would you? Maud: Oh, that would be very kind ‘o you, Doctor, plenty of milk and four spoons o’ sugar. Dr. Hinge: You can lump it Dame Hilda: Right, Evadne you’ve made your point. Now, Maud, dear, you'll never guess who we met in the tea shop? Maud: Who, Dame ‘ilda? Dame Hilda: I'll give you a clue, dear. Now, think back, just after the war, suppose I said happy feet. Who would you think of? Maud: Fred Astaire! Dame Hilda: Well, I suppose you're warm, but if I said four rather than two feet. Maud: Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. Dr. Hinge: What, in heaven's name would Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers be doing in Stackton Tressel, Maud? Maud: Well, if they was in the tea shop, Doctor, I'd say they'd be ‘aving tea. Dame Hilda: You asked for that, Evadne. You're far too quick to jump at people. It's all that talking to toads. Now, Maud, suppose I was to say Blackpool. Dr. Hinge: And don't say Reginald Dickson. Maud: Why, it were never ‘im, were it? Dr. Hinge: Oh, let's put an end to the agony Hilda and tell her. It was Vern and Irene, Maud. Maud: Who? Dr. Hinge: Exactly! Dame Hilda: You remember Vern and Irene, dear? Maud: No! Dame Hilda: You must do. Maud: Well, if I did, I'd remember, wouldn't I? Dame Hilda: Oh, you are being aggravating. I mean, surely you remember this little tune. La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la. Maud: No! Dame Hilda: Oh, go on, dear, you do, listen. La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la! Maud: Never ‘eard it in me life. Dame Hilda: Of course you have. Evadne, you'll find that sheet of music in the piano stool somewhere. We'll play it for her, then she'll remember. Dr. Hinge: Does it have a title, Hilda? or is it called simply la-la-la-la-la-la-la? Dame Hilda: It's called ‘Whistling under the moon’ dear. Maud: ‘ow’s it go again, Dame ‘ilda? Dame Hilda: La-la... No, no, you can jolly well wait to find the music now, Maud, then you can hear it properly. You'll know it, you'll see. Maud: Oh, well, if you say so. Dame Hilda: it was when we were on tour with the Rosa Charles company. I clearly remember coming up to the wardrobe one afternoon and taking you off to see Vern and Irene. It was a matinée, and as I recall, when we came out after the show it was raining, we bought shrimps from a stall on the front, and we went and ate them in the aquarium. Dr. Hinge: Wasn’t that rather tactless of you? Dame Hilda: You keep out of it, Evadne. Maud: I do seem to remember them shrimps, Dame ‘ilda. Dr. Hinge: Oh, here's your music, Hilda. So let's get it over with. Dame Hilda: Right, now, I'll just paint the scene for you, shall I? Dr. Hinge: If you must. Dame Hilda: Imagine a painted backdrop of snow-capped Alps by moonlight. Vern is downstage left, sitting on a lump of rock. He's got a long feather in his hat and he’s wearing lederhosen. Maud: Lederhosen, what's them? Dame Hilda: Oh, you know, Maud, waterproof shorts. Maud: Well, you did say that it were a wet afternoon, Dame ‘ilda. Dame Hilda: Yes, yes, quite. And then the orchestra strikes out an on-trips Irene. She's dressed as a little Swiss miss in a blue and white check gingham dress with long blonde plaits right down to her knees. She also had a white, starched apron and a yoke, you know, with wooden buckets hanging off at each end. Maud: Oh, I know the sort of thing, Dame ‘ilda. My gran used to wear summet of that sort when she were pulling the plough. Mind, she only pulled it when the ‘orse were sick. Dame Hilda: Yes, well, Irene was meant to be a milkmaid. Right Evadne, the song, please. Dame Hilda: Whistling under the moon. Ooooh! Dr. Hinge: What on earth is that meant to be? Maud: Oh, that be the cows, eh, Dame ‘ilda? Dame Hilda: No, Maud, that be not the cows. No. That wasn't the cow's, dear, it is an alpine horn. Vern had an alpine horn. Dame Hilda: I don't care what it's supposed to be. Vern didn't whistle it. Maud: Perhaps ‘e couldn't whistle. Dr. Hinge: Then he should have yodelled. Dame Hilda: Just get on with the song, will you, dear. Dr. Hinge: Not unless you do it properly. If you can't whistle you can lah lah, but I am not having that bellowing in my ear. Dame Hilda: All right, dear, I'll whistle. Maud: Now I remember. She finished up dancing a soft shoe with a goat, and ‘e were juggling cheeses. Dame Hilda: That's right, dear. It was a very original act. Dr. Hinge: It's a wonder the Swiss tourist board didn't take out an injunction. Perhaps Maud would like my ticket for tonight? Maud: Oh, are they appearing in Stackton then, Dame ‘ilda? Dame Hilda: Well, just for the one night, dear, they're playing the coop hall. Maud: Well, I'll tell you one thing for certain. They’ll not still ‘ave the same goat we saw at Blackpool. {Co-op hall.} Dame Hilda: Well, at seven o'clock that evening, Evadne and I found ourselves sitting in the front row at the co-op hall, with about 150 other people who'd probably got in for free. And soon the curtains juddered open to reveal a piano and a drum kit. This, it transpired, was the orchestra. And although not large as orchestras go, it seemed to take up most of the stage, which made it extremely difficult for the dancing daffodils who opened the show. Luckily, the rest of the acts were small. There was a man who played a guitar with a parrot on his head or was it the other way around. A girl who tied herself in a knot and rolled around the stage, singing, ‘The great big world keeps turning.’ then she rolled off and the orchestra with her, presumably to the to the nearest pub, well, we never saw them again that night. And then, then came Vern and Irene. Well, he was all cloak and brilliantine and she was all boa and bugle beads. Well, she perched herself on a gold-painted kitchen stool, and he began. Vern: Ladies and gentlemen, what you are about witness, has nothing to do with the theatrical hokum of the magician or mountebank! No, my friends, the performance, my partner, the world famed mystic, Irene, and I are about to give transcends mere entertainment. For you are about to witness a brief, but conclusive demonstration of the supersensory transference of thought, from one mind. Irene: One mind! Vern: To another! Dr. Hinge: How'd they intend to do that? They haven't got one mind between them. Dame Hilda: Shut up, Evadne. Vern: But first, I must ensure that my partner uses only her mind. Irene: My Mind! Vern: And not the slightest assistance from those beautiful blue eyes. Dr. Hinge: You don't think she dyes those as well, do you? Vern: Listen, I shall apply a blindfold. Irene: A blindfold! Dr. Hinge: That'll be made up of something she can see through. Dame Hilda: Evadne, I can do without the running commentary! Vern: And now, in order to prove that there is no trickery whatsoever with at the blindfold I intend to procure one from any member of the audience. Irene: Any member of the audience! Dame Hilda: What have you got to say about that, then, clever dick? Dr. Hinge: Well, we all know that one, don't we? It'll be a stooge. Vern: I think I see something eminently suitable, be worn by someone who is, I am sure, well known to a good many of you... Dame Hilda Bracket!. Dr. Hinge: Well, I wasn't far wrong, was I? Irene: Dame Hilda Bracket! Dame Hilda: Good evening, everybody, good evening, thank you, thank you. Dr. Hinge: Sit down, Hilda. You're making a spectacle of yourself. Dame Hilda: Oh, do be quiet. Vern: Perhaps, Dame Hilda, you would be kind enough to lend me that very pretty scarf that you are wearing. Dame Hilda: Well, to tell you the absolute truth, dear, I'd sooner not. You see, this scarf is pure silk, and it was rather expensive, so I really wouldn't want to see anyone tying knots in it. Vern: But one cannot make a perfect blindfold without a good strong knot. Dame Hilda: Perhaps you could make do with Evadne’s scarf. It's lovely and thick, it's wool. The only other person with a scarf like that is Rupert bear. Vern: Well if the good Doctor will permit me? Dame Hilda: Hand him up your scarf, dear. Dr. Hinge: Oh, very well, but I shall blame you if I get swollen glands. Vern: Thank you, thank you, now this scarf, I shall tie tightly over my partner's eyes. Irene: Tighter! tighter! Dame Hilda: I hope Irene doesn't mind the smell of moth balls. Vern: Then what can you see now, Irene? Irene: I can see nothing. All is dark! all is black! a sombrous! Vern: Sombrous! Irene: Pitchy! Vern: Pitchy! Irene: Impenetrable black! Dame Hilda: When did you last wash that scarf, Evadne? Vern: I shall now ask a member of the audience to hold up an object. Irene: Any object! Vern: Can I have a volunteer any lady? Any gentleman? Dr. Hinge: It's all done by codes, you know, Hilda. You see, what happens he’ll use what they call a trigger word, to tell Irene what the object is. Dr. Hinge: Why do you have to spoil it, Evadne? Vern: I have a gentleman there in the third row. Thank you, sir, thank you, now, concentrate Irene, I am thinking of this object. What is it that this gentleman is holding up? Dr. Hinge: That's the trigger word. Dame Hilda: What is? Dr. Hinge: Up! Irene: I see a long thin dark object. Vern: Yes, yes, Irene: It’s err…. Vern: Yes, go on Irene, the gentleman is still holding it up! Irene: Yes, yes, yes, it has a curve at the end. Vern: Yes, go on, concentrate. Irene: I…. I, see a handle. Vern: Yes, yes, Irene: The curved piece is a handle. Vern: Yes, yes. Irene: It's, it's an umbrella! Vern: Bravo, bravo! Dr. Hinge: There you are, you see, Hilda, he was holding up an umbrella. I mean, what else can the word up bring to mind Dame Hilda: A ladder? Dr. Hinge: if you don't want to know how it's done. Vern: So much for the customary trivial exhibitions, but ladies and gentlemen, an incontrovertible demonstration of the power of the human mind and will, Irene, you may remove your blindfold while I ask, Dame Hilda Bracket and Dr. Hinge, to join us upon the stage. Dr. Hinge: I am not going on the stage. Dame Hilda: Shame you didn't say that years ago. Now come on don’t be a spoil sport, everyone's looking at us. Vern: Ladies and gentlemen, a round of applause for two jolly good sports here. Dame Hilda Bracket! Irene: And Dr. Hinge! Dame Hilda: Vern, Vern, I do hope you won't think I'm being difficult, dear. But there are two things I really must draw the line at. Vern: Yes? Dame Hilda: I don't want to be hypnotised and I don't want to be sawn in half. Vern: Have no fear, dear lady you are safe with us. Now, Irene, perhaps you will tell the ladies and gentlemen what we propose to do. Irene: Of course I will. Ladies and gentlemen, we are going to ask these good ladies to perform a little Russian song for us. Dame Hilda: A Russian song? Do you know any Russian songs, Evadne? apart from Boris Godunov and the theme from Ivan the Terrible. Dr. Hinge: Well I could probably improvise the Volga boatmen. Dame Hilda: Not in front of all these people, dear. Dame Hilda: Ladies, the song we are going to ask you to perform is a little known Russian song called Nunyuth and Sunyuth. Dame Hilda: Oh, well, if you've got the music handy, I dare say that Evadne could fumble through it? Vern: Ah, but we have no music, Dame Hilda. Irene: We have no music! Vern: We have no music! Dame Hilda: Well, you've scuppered yourselves then, haven’t you? Because we don't know Nunyuth and Sunyuth, do we, Evadne? Dr. Hinge: I've never heard of it, I'm pleased to say. Irene: But all is well ladies because Vern and I... Vern: Irene and I... Irene: Do know it. Dr. Hinge: Then, why don't you do it and we’ll go back to our seats. Come on, Hilda. Vern: Doctor, please, patience, I implore you. Perhaps you will be good enough to take a seat at the Pianoforte! Dame Hilda: Well go on, dear, don't just stand there like a stick of celery, take a seat at the piano. Dr. Hinge: Wait till I get you home. Irene: And now you, Dame Hilda, I'm going to ask you to stand just here by the pianoforte! Vern: Right, and now, ladies and gentlemen, for a truly remarkable demonstration of the power of thought, Irene and I will turn our backs. Irene: Turn our backs! Vern: And the two of us will sing and play in our minds. Irene: In our minds! Vern: A song which these two good ladies by their own admission do not know. Irene: Do not know! Vern: And as we sing and play, we will transfer through the mystic power of the mind. The words and music of the song to Dame Hilda and Doctor Evadne. Minds in harmony. I must now ask for complete silence. Irene: Complete silence. Vern: We must all concentrate! Irene: Concentrate!. Dame Hilda will now perform Nanyath and Sanyath. Dame Hilda: Well, go on, Evadne start. Dr. Hinge: You're supposed to be the sensitive one. You start. Irene: Concentrate! Vern: Concentrate! Irene: Minds in harmony. Vern: Sing, ladies. Sing!
His name was Nunyeth. He came from Plotsk Her name was Sunyeth. She also came from Plotsk He said to Sunyeth, let's go to Omsk All right, said Sunyeth. They both went off to Omsk He had whiskers right down to his knees Every time he kissed her she would sneeze Then a cuckoo flew out Sanyeth said to Nunyeth you’d best be rough We won’t get wed till you cut the darn thing off
Transcribed by Lorraine Taylor |
