DOI Heft:
September 18, 1880
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17764#0129
September 18, 1880.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
121
ROUND ABOUT TOWN.
At the Westminster Aquarium.
hen the large Establishment
opposite the Abbey, and within
hail of the Houses of Parlia-
ment, was opened to the public,
the more earnest of Mankind
believed that the prospects of
Science, Art, and Literature,
were brightening. In the
address presented to a Prince
of the Blood at the inaugural
ceremony, pointed allusion
was made to the fact that
Albert the Good had left
at his lamented decease many
schemes for the regeneration
of the World in general and
the British Nation in particu-
lar, in an unfinished state. It
was suggested that certain Philanthropists, bound together by the
magic brotherhood of the Limited Liability Act, had taken this very
much to heart, and that they had determined, through the agency of
a Summer and Winter Garden, and a Receptacle for Unusual Fish,
to set everything right. In a word, what the Prince Consort
had commenced, was to be finished by the Directors of the West-
minster Aquarium. A first step towards the Millennium was made
by the election of all the Birth, Wealth, and Talent of England to
the distinguished post of “ Honorary Fellow.” It was generally
understood that the body thus constituted was to act as a sort of
Collective Guardian Angel to the Institution. Since then the walls
of London have told occasionally of the progress of the good work.
At one time the hoardings were covered with a very remarkable
woodcut representing an apparently inoffensive young lady in a
bathing costume, in the act of being blown from the mouth of a
six-thousand-and-eighty-nine-ton gun, to the evident delight of a
crowd of well-dressed loungers. And at this very moment the public
are being earnestly invited through the same agency to gaze upon
another young lady in another bathing costume, as she, with pink
boots, holds high revel over some buns and a cup of tea on her back
in a tank. But as the exception proves the rule, these little eccen-
tricities of management .might inferentially denote that the great
scheme of national improvement, in the sternest sense of the words,
was progressing satisfactorily. I determined to judge for myself,
and expend a shilling—or more.
. Before entering, I glanced at the placards on the walls. I par-
ticularly noticed three pictures. One represented an enormous
gorilla, presumably about eighty feet high, as he seemed to be
resting in a forest, with his hand clutching the tree-tops. The next
depicted a desperate battle waged by a select band of graceful but
bloodthirsty savages. The last was a little perplexing—it was a
strange group labelled, “Comic Military Band twice daily.” Per-
plexing, I repeat, from a Millennium point of view. . The . battle
and the gorilla sketches might have had some connection with the
Darwinian theory and the Survival of the Fittest.
Glancing sorrowfully at a couple of melancholy seals in a bath, and
courteously refusing to buy a magic pen-wiper, or some equally use-
ful article of a young female, who, although personally a stranger
to me, addressed me in a manner suggesting that she had known me
intimately all my life, and longer, I approached the Grand Marquee.
This I heard was the home of “ Ourang, the Old Man of the Woods,”
whose pictorial acquaintance I had already made in the sketch of the
gorilla. I paid another fee (the second), and found, myself in a red
and white tent, nearly entirely occupied by the basin of an unused
fountain. In a corner was a cage, and in the cage was a wretched
looking monkey (seemingly rather larger than a good sized cat)
clinging listlessly to the top bars of his prison. This was “ Ourang.”
The creature gazed at me sadly, having probably satisfied himself
that I had not come in with an “order.” His expression said
plainly, “ Poor idiot! you have paid an extra shilling to see me!”
Then he yawned. I couldn’t help asking with Dick Swiveller's
friend in the Old Curiosity Shop, “Is the Old Man friendly?”
The Old Man was friendly, but bored. Finding that “Ourang”
seemed anxious to shun observation, I turned my eyes away, and
consequently came face to face with the following “ notice : ”—
“ Visitors are most particularly requested not to give the animal
food of any description. The greatest care has to he exercised in
choosing its diet.”
to take my leave. As I departed, I observed that “the Old Man” was
seemingly attempting to break the tedium of his confinement by
peeping through a hole in his tent at the half-suppressed grimaces
of a solemn-looking Gentleman in evening dress, who was busily
employed on the stage of the Institution in giving a spirited render-
ing of the characteristic sounds of a country farm-yard. I was glad
to notice this, as it seemed to attract Ourang’s attention for a moment
from the evidently startling performances of the Industrious Fleas,
who, although advertised to appear in another part of the building,
had certainly chosen “the Old Man” himself as a platform for a
portion of their little entertainment.
I now followed the sound of some hideous shouts to their source-
a room in the gallery. For a third time I paid a shilling. On
entering the apartment, a
youth was saying “They
will now ’unt. They will
’unt their prey and sur-
round it. When they ’ ave
’unted it they will sing
their song of joy.” Upon
this seven Zulus, in Afri-
can costumes that I cannot
help, fancying must have
received some important
additions from a miscella-
neous collection of articles
of British manufacture,
began to jump about and
yell in a manner suggestive
of an impromptu charade
got up by schoolboys quite devoid of dramatic talent. Such a hunt!
— or to adopt the evident Zulu pronunciation, such “an ’unt!”
After a few more Colney-Hatch performances they began to shake
hands with the spectators, with the immediate result of clearing the
room. I lagged behind, having noticed a certain sameness in the
Entertainment (which I had only partly witnessed), and asked if
what I had seen differed materially from what I had not ? The
youth, a most courteous young gentleman, explained to me that,
“ he thought the words of their songs was different! ”
Did the exigences of space permit, I would report in detail how
I paid a fourth shilling to see Chang, sixpence to visit my valued
friend, the Chess Automa-
ton from, I think, the
Crystal Palace (business
was slack, and there was
a slight delay in my ad-
mission, rather suggestive
of the Automaton and the
Lecturer having a friendly
chat together in their
shirt-sleeves during the
pauses between the per-
formances), and three-
pence to gaze into a glass
which increased my natu-
rally graceful proportions
to a condition of revolting
obesity. I was. lured into
this last exhibition by seing a placard bearing the inscription,
“Roars, of laughter! See yourself as others see you!” I, so far
from being amused, was very angry, and nearly knocked the at-
tendant’s (a small boy’s) head off! As for the Giants, I could learn
nothing about them, as “the full descriptive lecture at 3‘30” was
not delivered. What there is in my personal appearance. to
induce everyone to pester me to buy photographs as touching
mementoes of my visit, I don’t know. But so it was.
It remains but to say that, as I left, a talented gentleman, in yellow
satin trowsers, was balancing a quart bottle on.his.nose, or perform-
ing some other dangerous feat of an equally intricate character on
the stage, to the languid satisfaction of a group of well-dressed
visitors of both sexes. I attended the place in the afternoon. In
the evening I understand, there are many attractions,, chiefly due to
the marvellous magisterial licensing system of the period. In spite,
however, of this encouraging fact, I fear, when I consider the lofty
objects aimed at by the original Directors, I cannot honestly declare
that the Millennium has commenced at the Royal Westminster
Aquarium—just at present.
Reminiscences.
This would have excited my curiosity had I not seen on the ledge
of the case a collection of comestibles that were apparently being
reserved for “ the Old Man’s” dinner. The collection consisted of three
halves of lemons, a small brush (such as is used for blacking boots)
and some sawdust. Having made this discovery, I thought it time
The Girls' Own Paper has recently given specimens of Ladies*
handwriting.
“Ah!” sighed an old beau as his grand-daughter showed him
fac-similes, “ How well I know them all! ”
The little one wondered. What a funny Grandpapa !
121
ROUND ABOUT TOWN.
At the Westminster Aquarium.
hen the large Establishment
opposite the Abbey, and within
hail of the Houses of Parlia-
ment, was opened to the public,
the more earnest of Mankind
believed that the prospects of
Science, Art, and Literature,
were brightening. In the
address presented to a Prince
of the Blood at the inaugural
ceremony, pointed allusion
was made to the fact that
Albert the Good had left
at his lamented decease many
schemes for the regeneration
of the World in general and
the British Nation in particu-
lar, in an unfinished state. It
was suggested that certain Philanthropists, bound together by the
magic brotherhood of the Limited Liability Act, had taken this very
much to heart, and that they had determined, through the agency of
a Summer and Winter Garden, and a Receptacle for Unusual Fish,
to set everything right. In a word, what the Prince Consort
had commenced, was to be finished by the Directors of the West-
minster Aquarium. A first step towards the Millennium was made
by the election of all the Birth, Wealth, and Talent of England to
the distinguished post of “ Honorary Fellow.” It was generally
understood that the body thus constituted was to act as a sort of
Collective Guardian Angel to the Institution. Since then the walls
of London have told occasionally of the progress of the good work.
At one time the hoardings were covered with a very remarkable
woodcut representing an apparently inoffensive young lady in a
bathing costume, in the act of being blown from the mouth of a
six-thousand-and-eighty-nine-ton gun, to the evident delight of a
crowd of well-dressed loungers. And at this very moment the public
are being earnestly invited through the same agency to gaze upon
another young lady in another bathing costume, as she, with pink
boots, holds high revel over some buns and a cup of tea on her back
in a tank. But as the exception proves the rule, these little eccen-
tricities of management .might inferentially denote that the great
scheme of national improvement, in the sternest sense of the words,
was progressing satisfactorily. I determined to judge for myself,
and expend a shilling—or more.
. Before entering, I glanced at the placards on the walls. I par-
ticularly noticed three pictures. One represented an enormous
gorilla, presumably about eighty feet high, as he seemed to be
resting in a forest, with his hand clutching the tree-tops. The next
depicted a desperate battle waged by a select band of graceful but
bloodthirsty savages. The last was a little perplexing—it was a
strange group labelled, “Comic Military Band twice daily.” Per-
plexing, I repeat, from a Millennium point of view. . The . battle
and the gorilla sketches might have had some connection with the
Darwinian theory and the Survival of the Fittest.
Glancing sorrowfully at a couple of melancholy seals in a bath, and
courteously refusing to buy a magic pen-wiper, or some equally use-
ful article of a young female, who, although personally a stranger
to me, addressed me in a manner suggesting that she had known me
intimately all my life, and longer, I approached the Grand Marquee.
This I heard was the home of “ Ourang, the Old Man of the Woods,”
whose pictorial acquaintance I had already made in the sketch of the
gorilla. I paid another fee (the second), and found, myself in a red
and white tent, nearly entirely occupied by the basin of an unused
fountain. In a corner was a cage, and in the cage was a wretched
looking monkey (seemingly rather larger than a good sized cat)
clinging listlessly to the top bars of his prison. This was “ Ourang.”
The creature gazed at me sadly, having probably satisfied himself
that I had not come in with an “order.” His expression said
plainly, “ Poor idiot! you have paid an extra shilling to see me!”
Then he yawned. I couldn’t help asking with Dick Swiveller's
friend in the Old Curiosity Shop, “Is the Old Man friendly?”
The Old Man was friendly, but bored. Finding that “Ourang”
seemed anxious to shun observation, I turned my eyes away, and
consequently came face to face with the following “ notice : ”—
“ Visitors are most particularly requested not to give the animal
food of any description. The greatest care has to he exercised in
choosing its diet.”
to take my leave. As I departed, I observed that “the Old Man” was
seemingly attempting to break the tedium of his confinement by
peeping through a hole in his tent at the half-suppressed grimaces
of a solemn-looking Gentleman in evening dress, who was busily
employed on the stage of the Institution in giving a spirited render-
ing of the characteristic sounds of a country farm-yard. I was glad
to notice this, as it seemed to attract Ourang’s attention for a moment
from the evidently startling performances of the Industrious Fleas,
who, although advertised to appear in another part of the building,
had certainly chosen “the Old Man” himself as a platform for a
portion of their little entertainment.
I now followed the sound of some hideous shouts to their source-
a room in the gallery. For a third time I paid a shilling. On
entering the apartment, a
youth was saying “They
will now ’unt. They will
’unt their prey and sur-
round it. When they ’ ave
’unted it they will sing
their song of joy.” Upon
this seven Zulus, in Afri-
can costumes that I cannot
help, fancying must have
received some important
additions from a miscella-
neous collection of articles
of British manufacture,
began to jump about and
yell in a manner suggestive
of an impromptu charade
got up by schoolboys quite devoid of dramatic talent. Such a hunt!
— or to adopt the evident Zulu pronunciation, such “an ’unt!”
After a few more Colney-Hatch performances they began to shake
hands with the spectators, with the immediate result of clearing the
room. I lagged behind, having noticed a certain sameness in the
Entertainment (which I had only partly witnessed), and asked if
what I had seen differed materially from what I had not ? The
youth, a most courteous young gentleman, explained to me that,
“ he thought the words of their songs was different! ”
Did the exigences of space permit, I would report in detail how
I paid a fourth shilling to see Chang, sixpence to visit my valued
friend, the Chess Automa-
ton from, I think, the
Crystal Palace (business
was slack, and there was
a slight delay in my ad-
mission, rather suggestive
of the Automaton and the
Lecturer having a friendly
chat together in their
shirt-sleeves during the
pauses between the per-
formances), and three-
pence to gaze into a glass
which increased my natu-
rally graceful proportions
to a condition of revolting
obesity. I was. lured into
this last exhibition by seing a placard bearing the inscription,
“Roars, of laughter! See yourself as others see you!” I, so far
from being amused, was very angry, and nearly knocked the at-
tendant’s (a small boy’s) head off! As for the Giants, I could learn
nothing about them, as “the full descriptive lecture at 3‘30” was
not delivered. What there is in my personal appearance. to
induce everyone to pester me to buy photographs as touching
mementoes of my visit, I don’t know. But so it was.
It remains but to say that, as I left, a talented gentleman, in yellow
satin trowsers, was balancing a quart bottle on.his.nose, or perform-
ing some other dangerous feat of an equally intricate character on
the stage, to the languid satisfaction of a group of well-dressed
visitors of both sexes. I attended the place in the afternoon. In
the evening I understand, there are many attractions,, chiefly due to
the marvellous magisterial licensing system of the period. In spite,
however, of this encouraging fact, I fear, when I consider the lofty
objects aimed at by the original Directors, I cannot honestly declare
that the Millennium has commenced at the Royal Westminster
Aquarium—just at present.
Reminiscences.
This would have excited my curiosity had I not seen on the ledge
of the case a collection of comestibles that were apparently being
reserved for “ the Old Man’s” dinner. The collection consisted of three
halves of lemons, a small brush (such as is used for blacking boots)
and some sawdust. Having made this discovery, I thought it time
The Girls' Own Paper has recently given specimens of Ladies*
handwriting.
“Ah!” sighed an old beau as his grand-daughter showed him
fac-similes, “ How well I know them all! ”
The little one wondered. What a funny Grandpapa !