Punch: Punch (76.1879)

July 5, 1879.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

301

HAPPY-THOUGHT GUIDE TO LONDON.

Containing much that was never even thought of in Dickens's Dic-
tionary. Specially intended for Visitors to the Metropolis
during the Agricultural Show.

"A 1."—This
is Mr. Punch's
Golden Number.
It is also used,
as a title of
courtesy, in ad-
dressing theChief
Constable of the
" A" Division.

ACADEMY.—
There are plenty
of Academies in
and about Lon-
don for the edu-
cation of Young
Ladies and Gen-
tlemen. The chief
of these is the
Royal Academy,
where only Royal
Children are
brought up.

ADELPHI. —
A theatre in the
Strand, built by
an Irishman of
the name of
Terence. Every-
body has heard

of the Adelphi of Terence. Here if is. Mr. Ben "Webster, who wrote
the Dictionary which bears his name, is still connected with this house
of entertainment. The clock at Westminster and Lord Beacons-
field were both named after Mr. " Ben" Webster. In theatrical
parlance, where "Ben" is short for "Benefit," Mr. Webster is
spoken of as the Biggest Ben ever known on the Stage. Admission
to the theatre is by payment, but there is no extra charge for stand-
ing on the doorstep, in order to give passers-by the idea that you
have your seat inside, and have only come out during an entr'acte.
Just now it is " Halliday time " at the Adelphi, where they are play-
ing Amy Robsarb with an exceptionally strong cast. Miss Nellson
is the chere Amy, " supported," as they say, by Messrs. Henry
Neville and H. Vezin, though the heroine is quite capable of
supporting herself.

ADMIRALTY.—Where all the Admirals are. If you want an
Admiral, call in here, and take your choice. Office-hours from
eleven to five. "When you enter the gates, you must say to the sailor
on duty, "What cheer, messmate?" On his replying "Aye, aye,
my hearty ! Cheer it is! " you may pass on. At the door you
must ring three bells, whereupon the Loblolly Boy in buttons Avill
sound a fog-horn, and signals will be made from the mast-head.
After this, you will be informed whether the Admiral you've come
to see is at home. If he is, ask him for an order to view the collection
of Tales told to the Marines, in the Nautical Library. Also obtain
an order for the dry cellars where the Logs are kept, and an
admission to the Museum, where you will find the Wooden Walls
of Old England, used as folding-screens to keep out the draughts
in winter. The rooms at the back of the building are entirely
devoted to Rear-Admirals. In the smoking-room only horn-pipes
are allowed. No smoking abaft the binnacle. Everyone takes
grog_ aboard at five bells. In passing through the hall, be careful to
pay implicit obedience to the printed notice—" Visitors are particu-
larly requested not to speak to the man at the wheel." The Ad-
miralty is governed by three Lords, who are called The Three
Masters, of whom the one who arrives before the others in the
morning, is styled the First Lord. In the back-yard, on which the
rooms of the Rear-Admirals look out, are kept Mother Carey's
chickens, all under hatches. An interesting sight, which no visitor
to London should miss.

ALBANY.—A funereal sort of Burlington Arcade, guarded by
two officials, one at each end. Here the State prisoners are kept,
their cells being on the right and left of the central passage.
Shudder, stranger, and pass on! All hope abandon ye who enter
here.

ALBERT HALL.—A very agreeable person, and well-known
Londoner, whose acquaintance should be cultivated by everyone
coming to town for the season, as he gives delightful parties, and his
residence commands a fine view of Hyde Park.

ALHAMBRA.—The residence of the Moorish Ambassador in
Leicester Square. Receptions every night from seven till 11-30.

ALPINE CLUB. — H ere any speculator can invest in Alpine

Stocks, which are quoted daily in the City. The Alpine Club have
purchased most of the foreign mountains. Mount Blanc b'longs to
them. The Stocks go up every summer. Look for their offices in
Mount Street, Grosvenor Square.

ANALYSTS.—Directly you come up to London, lose no time in
going straight to an Analyst, to get analysed. When you have been
thoroughly analysed, the Analyst enters your name in his annals,
and presents you with a ticket which wiU clear all the bars in London,
including Chancery, Common Law, Criterion, and the Old Bailey Bar.
Once analysed, you are free of the City, and can walk about as much as
you like. Armed with the Analyst's Pass, you can go right through
the Royal Exchange without any interruption from the Beadle, walk
gaily past Buckingham Palace without being challenged by the
sentry,—only, if you are challenged, you are bound to accept the
challenge, and fight 'em both, one down t'other come on, until the
arrival of the patrol. With the Analyst's Ticket in your pocket, you
can walk up and down Burlington Arcade, stopping to look in at all
the shop-windows, and are permitted to speak three times to the
Warders on duty without fee. It confers on you the right to pluck
primroses on Primrose Hill, free of charge, to attend all the services
in St. Paid's, to feed the ducks in the Green Park, and the right of
precedence at any drinking fountain within the four-mile radius.
In all cases of dispute with a cabman or 'bus conductor, produce
your Analyst's Ticket, which will be at once a satisfactory and
sufficient explanation.

Before making a purchase at any shop, inquire whether they take
off sixty per cent., cash, for anyone holding an Analyst's Ticket.
Wherever they do this, it is an immense saving, specially in such
articles de luxe as hats, gloves, socks, walking-sticks, penknives,
handkerchiefs, and white shirts. Any schoolboy will tell you where
the Chief Analyst's offices are. Catch any schoolboy coming out of
school, and ask him. Of course you must make yourself au courant
with the signs used by the London schoolboys, or you 'may mistake
his meaning, and so lose your own time and waste his, for which he
will have a remedy against you with the School Board authorities
through the immediate agency of the nearest policeman.

Again we repeat, as a visitor to London and a stranger to the
Metropolis, you can't do better than provide yourself with an Ana-
lyst's Ticket. If possible, get an Annual Analyst's Ticket. All
complaints are analysed at the Chief Office, St. Luke's, E.G.'; and
all letters on the subject should be addressed to the Analytical
Pig-eons' Milk Office, care of Overseer, the Hatch, Colney.

ANGLING.—This is the science of turning the corners or " doing
the angles" neatly, most useful to all pedestrians and drivers of
vehicles. England was once the land of the Angles, which accounts
for there still being so many nooks and corners to be found all
over the country. The term has a secondary meaning, implying
"fishing," but in London it is almost obsolete, except perhaps in
the neighbourhood of the Serpentine, which—it being a long time
before we get to " S," so we may as well anticipate the information—
is so called from the serpents found in it. These serpents are not
venomous, and closely resemble eels. Every sort of fish may be
angled for in the Serpentine, between the hours of 8 a.m. and 8 p.m.
Bait can be used for carp, tench, jack, trout, salmon trout, char,
and minnows, but purely sea-fish are rarely found below bridge,
though they have been seen above it. With such chances at hand,
why should the disciple of Izaak "Walton hook it elsewhere ?

AOUARIUM.—A place where there are two sorts of fish ; that is,
fish imprisoned in tanks, and some loose fish outside. The distractions
are numerous. All is fish that comes to their net, and so they are
now exhibiting a learned Bull. The motto of the establishment is
" Bless the Duke of Argyll ! " Here you can see everything from
Indefatigable Elyers, like Zazel, down to the Industrious Fleas.

Jones's Domestic Forecast.

July 1.—Mrs. J. Cloudy and threatening.
,, 2.—Miss J. Dull in the morning. Very fine in the afternoon

and evening.
,, 3.—Mary Jane. Same as 2.

,, 4.—Master J. Unsettled. Rather fresh towards midnight.
,, 5.—Butler. Unsteady.
,, 6.—Baby. Squally.

Warnings—from Cook and Buttons.

Pressure in the East considerable, which may be the occasion of
disturbance in the West-End.

a dark seance.

The Report of the first sitting of Convocation finished thus:—
" The Upper House sat in camera for the rest of the day."

Of course their photographs were all taken, and every proposition
was met with a negative. " The rest is silence."

vol. lxxvt.

dd