Punch (86.1884)

Joke 14, 1884,] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 277

OUR INSANE-ITARY GUIDE TO THE HEALTH
EXHIBITION.

Part I.—The South Gallery.

Before commencing1 a handbook, which I hope may be of as much
real service to the healthiest subject as the greatest invalid, it will
be as well to point out the best way of reaching the Institution to
which it is hoped it will prove a faithful guide. To the truly
economical, walking to South Kensington can be confidently re-
commended. Exercise is the very essence of health, and a stroll,
sav from Gravesend to Brompton, should bring the roses into the
palest cheeks. To those who are willing to experiment upon then-
bodies in the cause of Science, the Underground Bailway 'offers
unusual advantages. A journey from Moorgate Street to the
Gloucester Road, on a nice hot day, when an ample supply of sul-
phur can be obtained in the tunnels close to Portland^ Place, is
calculated to render the heartiest of passengers capable of improve-
ment from a sanitary point of view. The omnibuses remain to those
who are fond of working out that painfullest of problems—how to
compress the maximum of matter into the minimum of space.

But say that the Health-seeker has arrived pretty safe and fairly
sound at the Main Entrance of the International. He will have
already passed some scores of itinerant vendors of sanitary wares in
the shapes of cork mice, tin mechanical alligators, and penny ^hina
dolls, who will have prepared him for the many hygienic articles he
will find within the walls. Thus, he will not be surprised to dis-
cover that photographs are essential to a healthy body. The first
stall is devoted more or less to pictures of Mr. Henry Irving, the
Premier, Miss Ellen Terry, Sir Cunliefe Owen, and the heroine
of the Garmoyle Breach of Promise Case. Ho doubt this galaxy of
beauty is intended to please the eye already dilating with wonder at
an equestrian statue of the Prince of Wales, produced to colossal
dimensions, which boldly challenges, nay, defies. criticism, in the
Entrance Hall. Having derived benefit from this first exhibit, he
turns round, and faces a newspaper-stall, and calms his nerves by
purchasing an evening journal, which conveys to him the pleasing
intelligence that he has been half ruined by the sudden and unex-
pected collapse of some favourite security, in which are invested the
savings of nine-tenths of a lifetime. Thus prepared, he inspects—

“ Class I. Selected Displays of Unprepared Animal and vegetable
Substances used as Food in various Countries.” Noticing that the
specimens of this Division, which, according to the Catalogue, are
devoted to “Health,” are not confined to his native land, he
regards that admirable food, “ stuffed heads of Bison, Antelope,
and Deer ” (2) without astonishment, thinking, no doubt, that the
delicacy is thoroughly enjoyed by the inhabitants of the North
Pole, or perhaps the Equator. He next turns his attention to some
clever theatrical “properties,” which at first sight he imagines
must have been supplied by Mr. Augustus Harris as a reminis-
cence of a “ rally ” in the comic part of the last Drury Lane Panto-
mime (Cases 10 and 8), but which turn out to be contributions from
Messrs. Webb and Sons, and the Family Sutton. He is admiring
these huge x>resentments of Vegetables, when a large painting on the
wall, somewhat resembling the gigantic canvasses that once were
wont to adorn the outsides of booths at a country-fair, attracts his
attention. The picture represents a fat ox labelled with the prices to
be charged for his joints and limbs. Adding up the various sums to
be charged—7\d. for a leg, and so on—he finds that a whole ox can
be secured for about eleven shillings ! Passing the realms devoted to
“ cuttings from the joint,” he comes to “ Class II.,” which consists
of “ Prepared Vegetables used as Food, including Tinned, Com-
pressed, and Preserved Fruits and Vegetables, Bread, Butter, and
Biscuits of all kinds, and Tobacco.” Here he can gloat for a good
ten minutes upon all sorts of good things, from the simple acidulated
drop up to the loftiest types of the idealised lollipox). On his left,
noble specimens of wedding-cakes suggest that, after all, something
may be said in favour of matrimony ; while, on his right, he finds all
sorts and conditions of biscuits. And here he is attracted to a little
crowd of spectators, who seem to be hanging on the words of a
gentleman who appears to be addressing them in a tone of the most
fervid eloquence. The Health-seeker approaches the group, and
catches a phrase now and then to the effect that something or
other is “ most digestible,” and that “ one hundred go to the pound.”
The attentive auditors follow with their glistening eyes the hand of
this gentleman, which holds a plate. After a long harangue, the
speaker distributes morsels of biscuit amongst his listeners, who
thereupon immediately hurry away !

By this time the Health-seeker is ravenous. Still, as he has no
right to test the culinary capabilities of the Exhibition at so early
a period of his initial visit, he should take steps to assuage his
hunger by some mode other than by consuming food. Fortunately,
the means are at hand. All he has to do is to put his head into “ 89,
Vegetalarian Society ” and regard the dinners being served to the
revellers, and he will find a sensible diminution in his appetite. Coming
to “ Class IV.” the Health-seeker is provided with “ beverages of all

kinds—(a) Alcoholic, (b) Non-alcoholic, (c) Infusions (tea, coffee,
cocoa, chocolate, &c.).” Naturally he will not take any particular inter-
est in the last section of this Class. As for the aerated waters, he will
presume that they are one and all better than each other, and, if he
believes their resjiective proprietors, he will be right. However, he
will be much struck with one alcove which serves as the haunt of a
Lady and some soda-water bottles. The Lady and her sparkling
attendants rest under a shield bearing the simple but satisfactory
legend “ Purity.” _ Leaving the dairies and their occupants for
another visit, and disregarding the seductive charms of non-alcoholic
beverages such as Aromatic Ginger Ale (135), Specialite Lime Juice
(136), and the Original Sparkling Tonic Hedozone (138), he should
turn his serious attention to the alcoholic drinks. He can scarcely
do better than take the following doses in the cause of health, which
may be aptly called—

Liquor Programme for a Confirmed Invalid.

(Compiled from the Sanitary Exhibits at South Kensington.)

1. A glass of Ind, Coope & Co.’s ale and stout mixed (123) to
begin with.

2. A half-bottle of Lima et Fils champagne (128) just to get the
palate into proper order.

3. A goblet of the pure wine of Amontillado (145) to appreciate its
nutty quality.

4. Two or three specimens of the Eucalypffus Preparations by the
Trappist Friars at the Tre Fontane, near Rome (147), as an experi-
ment.

5. A x>hit of Peregiaux et Cie. Champagne, “ Grand Vin de
Cabinet,” extra quality (151), a most admirable thirst-quencher.

6. And, to top up with—a bottle of “ Original Plymouth Gin”

(156).

Having consumed these excellent products of the Health Exhibition
of 1884, the Invalid will be quite in a fit condition—“to go home to
tea! ”

Useful Note to the Visitor.—Wherever you see anything eatable
being made,—say confectionery or cakes, or butter, or bread, and so
forth, you have only to stand opposite the man ivho is making it,
whatever it is, and stare at him, ivith your mouth open, and, if you
only remain there long enough, you are sure to get a taste of it, or
perhaps get it all. The man can’t help it, he becomes quite mesmer-
ised, and is forced to pop whatever edible he is concocting into your
mouth. This is worth knowing, and has, perhaps, something to do
with thought-reading.

THE WHITSUNTIDE RECESS.

{By a Town Mouse.)

Friends asked me out of Town ; they said the woodlands looked so
fair,

And there was nothing half so good as healthful country air ;

I weakly yielded—hard it is when folks politely press—

Oh, would that I had never known this Whitsuntide Recess !

I went into the Country, there the woods were green, no doubt,

But still a nasty nipping wind blew keenly in and out;

And what’s the charm of leafy aisles, and Summer clouds of green,
With North-East winds to aggravate your liver and your spleen.

It was an old baronial hall at which I went to stay,

The sort of place that’s full of draughts in quite the ancient way :

I felt inclined to wear my furs when up the stairs I’d tread,

With cyclones from each corridor careering round my head.

And then the garden full of flowers, and hay-scent on the breeze,
That brought just as a pleasant change the snuffle and the sneeze;
The while I read Mackenzie’s page, and all the good it brings
Is nothing cures hay-fever like avoidance of such things.

We visited the village near, but nobody explained,

The picturesque abodes we saw were not too deeply drained;

The rivulet that rolled hard by looked ominously brown ;

I thought, “ I ’ll see what Jenner says when I get back to Town.”

Then home I fled, and talk no more of country life in June—

Give me the snug Club window through each changeful afternoon:
To long for more than London gives is imbecile and silly;

There’s not a spot upon the earth so fair as Piccadilly.

The Fortnightly has a fine musical organ, and has developed a
capacity for vocalisation. There is no doubt about the tone of its
“ G ” this month. At first there was some uncertainty as to whether
it was the ‘‘ Upper G ” or not. One thing is certain, that “ G ” is not
the initial letter of “ Jingo.”

“And Bishop draws us with a single wire!”-—Pope, edited by
\ Canon Harford.

Vol. 86.

9 — 2