Punch (70.1876)

184

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[May C, 1876.

GREAT MEETING AT THE ZOOLOGICAL

GARDENS.

N Good Friday, taking ad-
vantage of the closing of
the Gardens, a Meeting
of the most influential of
Dr. Sclater's hoarders
was convened for the pur-
pose of considering the
arrangements to be made
for the reception at the
Gardens of the animals
presented to H.R.H. the
Prince op Wales during
his Indian progress.

On the motion of the
Senior Lion present, se-
conded by Chunee, the Big
Elephant, the Royal and
Imperial Bengal Tiger was
called to the Chair.

The Chairman said: No
doubt the Meeting was
aware of the fact that His
Royal Highness had in the
course of his Indian tour
received more — a good
many more—zoological gifts from the Rajahs, Maharajahs, Rams,
Jams, Guikwars, Peishwas, Nawaubs, and other potentates of
India, than he knew what to do with. The synonym for the most
embarrassing and unwelcome of gifts that could be made was
a "white elephant"—no offence to their most respectable pachy-
dermatous comrade of darker complexion, who, he was sure, would
always be a welcome present, under any circumstances. These
half-civilised Indian rulers—his family had known something about
them in earlier days—were apparently under the impression that
there were no tigers, lions, elephants, panthers, cheetahs, or bears
in this country—{derisive hotels, roars, grunts, growls, and squeaks
from the company)—but what was the fact ? The uncivilised ani-
mals which had been shipped on board the Serapis and the Raleigh—
for, literally, the animals had had to come over in two ships, like the
famous Monkey in the comic song—were no more to be compared to
the animals born, or at least educated, in those Gardens, than the
street Arab of the back slums could be compared with the highly
cultivated Graduate of Oxford or Cambridge. The question before
them was, should this fact be acknowledged and acted upon, or
ignored ? Should the new-comers be received with the attentions
due to distinguished foreigners, the deference that should always
be paid to Royal property, or the cool and contemptuous indifference
that was the natural demeanour of civilised beings towards mere
illiterate and uncultivated—he might say savage—intruders on the
happy and highly-trained family-party which he saw around him ?

The Indian Elephant, beine- loudly called upon, trumpeted to the
effect that he flattered himself he knew something about Elephants,
something about England, and something about India. He must
say that he felt as if he never could look an Illustrated London
News or a Graphic in the face again, after the glut of Elephants
they had inflicted on the public during the tour of His Royal High-
ness. If the Prince was as sick of Elephants as the public must be,
he feared the popularity of his family had received a blow from
which it neVer would recover. There could be such a thing as even
too much Elephant. [Cries of" No, no ! ") It was now twenty-tive
years since he had packed up his trunk for his journey to this
country. Since then he had led a quiet and happy, though somewhat
monotonous, life. It was easier, if less exciting work, carrying a
howdah-load of children than a fat Rajah or his hareem, or a sporting
Sahib with his breech-loaders ; and he would rather make the
acquaintance of his distinguished friend in the Chair through the
bars of the Carnivora-house than at closer quarters on his own
flank, or with his (the Elephant's) trunk in his (the Tiger's) claws.
He would say nothing of the effects of a diet composed largely of
stale buns and questionable gingerbread. Luckily, his digestion
was pretty strong. But he knew the British Public. It liked
novelty, it liked Lions—no allusion to his feline friends—and it
liked Foreigners—if a little savage, so much the better. Look at
the way it ran after the Shah. He was quite prepared to find his
friend the B. P. going into raptures over the new-comers, if only
because they knew no English and had never tasted a bun in their
lives. He did not mean to allow his trunk to be put out of joint by
any such ignorant intruders, though they came from the stud of the
mighty Ram-Jam Jellyroy, the original Bandersnatch, or the
great Panjandrum himself. He, for one, would take care that the
Superintendent, Fellows, and Visitors knew his sentiments on the
subject. If these strangers were thrust upon the established

animals, let the public look out, he would not say for squalls, but
for trumpets, to a pretty lively tune, and a smash to follow. He
did not think his howdah would be the safest place for hopeful boys
home for the holidays if the rumoured intention was persisted in.

Jenny, the Ourang-Outan, after apologising for the wreak state of
her voice, owing to chronic bronchitis—these East winds were really
cruel—put it to the Meeting, if this was the sort of weather
poor animals ought to expect so near May-Day. She would only
remind them, that the attraction of their less civilised brethren
would draw more nuts and buns.

The Chairman growled out that he didn't see what nuts and buns
had to do with it. If she had said ribs of beef, he could have under-
stood the observation.

The Ourang-Outan apologised, and for the rest of the meeting sat
pensively nibbling the Larger Ant-Eater's tail, but said no more.

The Polar Bear quite agreed with his pachydermatous friend (the
Elephant). He had no liking for India, which he considered a
nasty, hot, disagreeable country, with not an iceberg or a glacier to
be had for love or money, without travelling as far as the great
Himalayan range. He did not expect to find any of his kith or kin
among the new-comers, and had no disposition to admit relationship
with the diminutive and vegetable-eating Himalayan Bears who, he
understood, would be represented among them.

The Brown Bear of Europe begged to say " ditto" to his Polar
cousin. He did not believe in Indian gifts either. He might have
his own views about—some might say upon—India, but all he would
say at that Meeting was that his motto had been, and should always
be, "Bear and for-Bear." They had heard of " the Lion's share"
long enough. He hoped the time was now coming for the Bear's
share to be meted out to him. He did not see what they wanted
with more animals, except for the commissariat department. All
he could say was, that, if they came, he was willing to do his best to
see them taken in and done for.

The Lion remarked that if he had changed his quarters lately, he
was still the Old Lion. He had asked his Royal and Imperial
friend to take the Chair, to show that he did not envy him his new
title. He preferred old names himself, and would remain the
original British Lion so long known, and he hoped he might add, so
deservedly popular, in those Gardens. He thought the less we had
of Indian titles, or of Indian visitors, the better.

The Royal and Imperial Bengal Tiger wished to know if the
British Lion had any intention of reflecting on him, or his family or
title, by that remark ?

The British Lion declined to explain.

The Tiger on this began to growl, and the Meeting was much
agitated for some moments, when, luckily, the Keepers coming up,
got the animals coaxed to their respective dens, and the bars were
secured on the Carnivora without mischief, though without any
distinct expression of the feeling of the Meeting.

(POSSIBLE) MAY MEETINGS, 1876.

Mr. Disraeli may meet with a good reason for his newly-acquired
Imperialism—better at least than those furnished by his favourite
almanack and little girl.

Mr. Gladstone may meet with something fresh to disestablish—
with Mr. Disraeli's assistance.

Dr. Kenealy may meet with some one who believes him the heir
of all the Plantagenets, a greater orator than Demosthenes, and a
juster man than Aristides.

Mr. Whalley may meet with a simpler victim of delusion than
himself.

Mr. jSTewdegate may meet with a nunnery that will receive him
with open arms.

The Sultan and the Khedive may meet with some one able to
show them a new way to pay old debts.

The Armies of the Emperor of Rp/ssia may meet with the word
" Empress " chalked, on a board somewhere in Asia, and retreat into
Europe with precipitation.

The two giant Iron-clads Aeronaut and Dicing Belle may meet,
and prove Mr. Ward Hunt's prevision in christening them.

Mr. Swinburne may meet with a poet equal to himself—even in
his own opinion.

The Home-Rulers and Nationalists may meet, without having to
be parted by the Police.

Christians of different denominations may meet without cursing
each other.

The House of Commons may meet with the serious intention of
doing useful work.

Mr. Punch may meet with an Upper Ten and a Lower len
Million, none of whom deserve his satiric lash.

Painters, whose Pictures have been sent back for want of
room, must be pleased to learn that the Royal Academy has had a
Storey added to it.