Punch: Punch (70.1876)

February 5, 1876.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHABIYAEI.

39

SHADOWS OF THE COMING SESSION.

R. Holms will worry the
Secretary of State for
War with statistics that
would be absolutely start-
ling1, if they were not
absolutely inaccurate.

Me. Butt will waste the
time of the House in im-
practicable discussion of
the principles of Home
Rule, and the self-engen-
dered miseries of Ireland.

Sir Wilfrid Lawson
will trifle with the fleeting-
hours in a facetious at-
tempt to pass the Permis-
sive Bill.

Mr. Biggar will exhaust
the patience of the House
by forgetting that Mem-
bers of Parliament are
accustomed to the society
of Gentlemen.

Major McGorman will
prove to the world that the
House of Commons, like
the ring of a circus, has
its own clown.
Mr. Whallet will bore
the House with stories of imaginary grievances and impossible
plots.

Mr. Pllmsoll will lose his temper in a good cause.
Sir Charles Dilke will pick holes 'in the British Constitution,
and show how to mend them by his private patent processes.

Mr. Disraeli, in answering plain questions, will be mysterious
facetious, or flippant, as.the exigences of the case may require—but
never discourteous, or explicit, or perfectly intelligible.

The Marquis of Hartington will conduct the Opposition, subject
to the embarrassing supervision of Messrs. Gladstone, Porster,
Lowe and Bright, and the caustic comment of Sir W. V. Harcoijrt.
The above gentlemen will pull different ways, '' as 'tis their nature to."

Sir Thomas Chambers will prose away (for the twentieth time)
about the atrocious profits of the Civil Service Stores, and the griev-
ances of the West End tradesmen.

Mr. MacDonald will do his best by his advocacy to render
unpopular the cause of the Working- Man.

And lastly, Dr. Kenealy will—but no, let us indulge the hope
that "the Doctor " will not appear at all this Session, being too much
occupied in establishing a new B,eligion.

A YISIT TO THE WESTMINSTER AQUARIUM.

" Uprouse ye then, my merry, merry, men,

For 'tis our opening day. —The Chough and Crow.

{Omitted from the Aquarium Programme!)

I can perfectly imagine the moment when the now managing-
director (pro. tern.), Mr. Wybrow Robertson, returning from a
visit to the Brighton Aquarium, via Victoria, compelled to masterly
inaction in his Hansom by a block system of complicated carts, car-
riages, cabs, and omnibuses, looked to the right and the left, and said
to himself "What a good thoroughfare for a show! and nothing
here but the Abbey, the Houses of Parliament, and the Law Courts !"
Then his mind reverting to the Brighton he had so recently quitted,
there must have occurred to him one of those electric flashes of in-
spiration, now popularly known as a

Happy Thought. Here's the place for an Aquarium.

Evidently the very thing! All that London in general, and West-
minster in particular, could want to complete its happiness was,
surely, an Aquarium. Then it arose out of the earth with, com-
paratively speaking, the celerity of Aladdin's Palace. An eminent
architect was obtained for the fabric, an eminent naturalist for the
fish, and an eminent composer for the fantasias. Other eminent
persons were soon got hold of to appear as Fellows, so that at last
for one Gentleman to call another a fellow, and to receive the retort
"you 're another," came to be, Aquariumly speaking, rather a thing
to be proud of than otherwise. This short form in the neighbour-
hood of St. Stephen's became, as it were, the Masonic pass-word
among the Fish-exhibiting fraternity,

" Sir, you 're a Fellow! "

"Sir, you 're another ! "

And this was the sign and countersign necessary for entrance on
Saturday, January 22nd.

The Aquarium was opened in some sort of State. A crowd in
reserved and unreserved places wondering what was about to happen
next. All eyes on a set of decorated private-boxes, with the Royal-
box in the middle, guarded by (apparently) sailors, who, in turn-
down collars and short jackets, looked as if they'd grown out_ of
that kind of dress, and were feeling rather awkward m not having
been put into stick-ups and tails long ago.

Then came a great time for inquisitive people who always want to
know all about it, whatever it is, and well-informed persons who

. In ft.

^■Inquisitive Visitor (only half-convinced). Oh! but artillery have
cannons, not guns.

Well-informed Friend. Ah! but these are on duty, and they
always go about as the body-guard of the Duke of Edinburgh, the
Sailor Prince.

Inquisitive Friend. Ah ! yes. Good idea having them here instead
of soldiers. Soldiers would have been out of place among fish.

Happy Thought (for the title of a new ballad). The Soldier and
ihe Fish. Suggested gratis to Mr. Arthur Sullivan. It might be
appropriately played by the Cold-streams.

Inquisitive Friend (using opera-glasses). I say, who 's that in a
private-box with lace on his shirt— ?

Well-Informed Person. That's a Sheriff.

Inquisitive Friend. Oh! (Then apparently resenting the intrusion.)
Why's he here ?

Well-Informed Person (nonplussed for once in his life). I don't
know. (Recovering himself.) Oh ! because he was asked.

Inquisitive Visitor. Who's that in a fez ?

Well-informed Person (proud of his superior knowledge). That is
the Turkish Ambassador.

Inquisitive Visitor (as before). Why's he here ?

Funny Gentleman from the Stock Exchange (overhearing and an-
swering). He's just the man for the place. He's here, as the repre-
sentative of a decidedly fishy State.

Hats off, and enter the Duke of Edinburgh. He stands up in
his box, and somebody facing him, reads him an address. It looks
uncommonly like Punch and Judy, with the squeak and the dia-
logue left out, as the voice part is inaudible.

Inquisitive Friend. What's he doing?

Funny Gentleman. He's hearing the Duke his Catechism.

Then the Duke replies, also inaudibly, bows, accepts the paper,
hands it to somebody to put away somewhere, and then the Concert
begins. The songs are most appropriately chosen; the first, sung by
Madame Patey, being evidently intended as, somehow or other,
applicable to the Duke of Edinburgh on the present occasion,
commencing,

" Gentle youth, ah ! tell me why-? "

which is the sort of question the Inquisitive Gentleman has been
putting with reference to the presence of every notability in the
building for the last half-hour.

Madame Patey, still singing, then goes on to bid H.R.H. the
Duke leave the building as quickly as possible:—

" Far from hence, oh haste away!
To the heart its ease restore,
Go, and never see me more!''

Which command, if the accomplished songstress represented the
Genius of the Aquarium, was scarcely a cheery sort of welcome to
the Sailor Prince.

Then Madame Wynne, more in harmony with the spirit of the
occasion, informed the Nautical Prince that she would

" Dance on the sands; "

but this smacked more of Margate than the Westminster Aquarium,
which has not, as yet, obtained its dancing licence from the Magis-
trates.

Sims Reeves obliged the company with "You'll Remember Me,"
which it is to be hoped they did, handsomely.

The great feature of the Orchestra, under Mr. Sullivan's able
direction, was an advertisement stuck up over the player of the big
drum, announcing, apparently, the name of the player (no other
musician being labelled in this way) as "Potter & Co." Somebody
said it was the name of the firm who built the drum. The audience
refused to accept this, and all the interest felt in that Concert was
centred in "Potter & Co." Others in the band might be greater
musicians, but few. except the initiated, knew them by name ; and
so " Potter & Co. had it, so to speak, almost entirely to himself.
The musical honours of the day were, undoubtedly, shared by Mr.
Sullivan, Mr. Godfrey, and " Potter & Co."

What did Potter' & Co."—a most respectable elderly gentle-
man, by the way—care for the vocalists ? While they sang, he had
an easy and luxurious time of it. Suddenly, three raps from the
baton of the Conductor awoke " Potter & Co." from his reverie.
He was called into action. No; he was not wanted as yet; and,