DOI Heft:
July 12, 1884
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17757#0026
FAME.
(The Quarter of an Hour before Dinner.)
Son of the House (to the Hero of the Day). “ Are you any relation to the Williamson ?”
General Sir Archibald Williamson, G.C.B., G.C.S I., V.C., dec., dec., dec., dec. “The Williamson?”
Son of the House. “Yes; Fred Williamson, you know, who Jumped Five Feet Seven and Three-quarters at our Sports
this Term ! ”
OUR INSANE-ITARY GUIDE TO THE HEALTH
EXHIBITION.
Part V.—The “ Talky-Talkeries.”
The Conference Room, on the right of the Entrance Hall, is
decidedly growing in popularity. At half-past five on most evenings
of the week a board is erected under the shadow of the equestrian
statue of the Prince of Wales, informing the curious “that such
and such a lecture is proceeding,” which rather reminds one of the
illuminated placards of Cremorne, which, in days of yore, used to
announce that “ the dogs and monkeys are now on.” Probably the
small attendance attracted to the earlier “ Conferences” may have
suggested the advisability of this advertisement; but it would be as
well to draw the line hard and fast at the notice-board, as a further
development of what may be called the “ walk-up-walk-up-and-see-
the-live-lions-stuffed-with-straw system ” could only be attained
with a _ certain loss of dignity. No doubt, were the leading
“Scientists” to garb themselves in quaint costumes (under the
direction of the Hon. Lewis Wingfield), and then parade the
Building and Grounds, headed by the Band of the German
Cuirassiers, and attended by the Superintendent of the Literary
Department, staggering under a huge notice-board, labelled, “This
way to the Lecture on Indigestion Philosophically Considered,” a
certain crowd might be collected in their walk, who possibly might
ultimately be induced to follow the procession into the Conference
Hall, but to the more thoughtful the proceeding would appear at
once tricky and theatrical. All this, by the way.
I am told that when Mr. Lewis Wingfield lectured to Mr. Sala,
he had a great success. He was “ supported ” by a bevy of acknow-
ledged wags, who might fairly claim to call themselves “the
brightest gems in the wit-diadem of Momus the Merry One.” He
was also encouraged to persevere by a venerable Gentlewoman, who
bung upon his every word with the assistance of an ear-trumpet.
I l fact, the lecture would have gone as hai>pily as a wedding-bell,
had it not been for the rather inappropriate applause of another
venerable gentlewoman, this time without an ear-trumpet. The
superfluous enthusiasm of this last ancient dame was, however, held
well in check by the experienced Chairman, who, with ready tact,
whenever he detected symptoms of approaching cheers of an uncalled-
for character, immediately regarded their would-be utterer sternly
through an enormous magnifying glass. But this again, by the way.
Last week I formed one of an audience of some hundreds of people
who had come to listen to a Lecture upon Digestion. Of course the
personal appearance of Mr. Lecturer was a subject of great interest
to all of us, as we felt that in him we had the result of self-applied
rules. Thus we watched him very narrowly. He spoke with much
nervous energy, and although occasionally irritable with a mild
assistant (who, constitutionally considered, resembled a thin edition
of the Fat Boy out of Pickwick) appeared fairly well. Accepting the
Lecturer as the Representative of good digestion, we could have
wished to have seen, perhaps, a richer glow upon his cheeks—but
this might have been hypercritical. When I entered the room this
Gentleman was being introduced in a few well-chosen words (as the
reporters would say) by the Chairman of the Meeting, who, having
performed his part rapidly, retired behind a side-tahle. _ Thus the
platform was left free to the Lecturer. On the whole it was an
inviting platform. It was decorated with flags, and contained a
stand, upon which were arranged a number of glass bottles, tubes,
and crucibles. Many of us must have hoped, when we saw that
stand, that some of the “ brilliant experiments” that were once the
glory of the old Polytechnic would be revived for our edification.
Hope told a flattering tale. The Lecturer never once rose above the,
level of pouring mere colouring matter from a bottle into a tube, con-
taining a weak solution of starch, which, we understood him to say,
possessed many of the properties of saliva. He began his address by
asking a question. He wanted to know in what light we looked upc n
food p Most of us, no doubt, would have answered off-hand, “ in the
light of something good to eat,” or, had we been wags, “ at break -
I fast in day light, at dinner in gas or candle light.” But neither of
(The Quarter of an Hour before Dinner.)
Son of the House (to the Hero of the Day). “ Are you any relation to the Williamson ?”
General Sir Archibald Williamson, G.C.B., G.C.S I., V.C., dec., dec., dec., dec. “The Williamson?”
Son of the House. “Yes; Fred Williamson, you know, who Jumped Five Feet Seven and Three-quarters at our Sports
this Term ! ”
OUR INSANE-ITARY GUIDE TO THE HEALTH
EXHIBITION.
Part V.—The “ Talky-Talkeries.”
The Conference Room, on the right of the Entrance Hall, is
decidedly growing in popularity. At half-past five on most evenings
of the week a board is erected under the shadow of the equestrian
statue of the Prince of Wales, informing the curious “that such
and such a lecture is proceeding,” which rather reminds one of the
illuminated placards of Cremorne, which, in days of yore, used to
announce that “ the dogs and monkeys are now on.” Probably the
small attendance attracted to the earlier “ Conferences” may have
suggested the advisability of this advertisement; but it would be as
well to draw the line hard and fast at the notice-board, as a further
development of what may be called the “ walk-up-walk-up-and-see-
the-live-lions-stuffed-with-straw system ” could only be attained
with a _ certain loss of dignity. No doubt, were the leading
“Scientists” to garb themselves in quaint costumes (under the
direction of the Hon. Lewis Wingfield), and then parade the
Building and Grounds, headed by the Band of the German
Cuirassiers, and attended by the Superintendent of the Literary
Department, staggering under a huge notice-board, labelled, “This
way to the Lecture on Indigestion Philosophically Considered,” a
certain crowd might be collected in their walk, who possibly might
ultimately be induced to follow the procession into the Conference
Hall, but to the more thoughtful the proceeding would appear at
once tricky and theatrical. All this, by the way.
I am told that when Mr. Lewis Wingfield lectured to Mr. Sala,
he had a great success. He was “ supported ” by a bevy of acknow-
ledged wags, who might fairly claim to call themselves “the
brightest gems in the wit-diadem of Momus the Merry One.” He
was also encouraged to persevere by a venerable Gentlewoman, who
bung upon his every word with the assistance of an ear-trumpet.
I l fact, the lecture would have gone as hai>pily as a wedding-bell,
had it not been for the rather inappropriate applause of another
venerable gentlewoman, this time without an ear-trumpet. The
superfluous enthusiasm of this last ancient dame was, however, held
well in check by the experienced Chairman, who, with ready tact,
whenever he detected symptoms of approaching cheers of an uncalled-
for character, immediately regarded their would-be utterer sternly
through an enormous magnifying glass. But this again, by the way.
Last week I formed one of an audience of some hundreds of people
who had come to listen to a Lecture upon Digestion. Of course the
personal appearance of Mr. Lecturer was a subject of great interest
to all of us, as we felt that in him we had the result of self-applied
rules. Thus we watched him very narrowly. He spoke with much
nervous energy, and although occasionally irritable with a mild
assistant (who, constitutionally considered, resembled a thin edition
of the Fat Boy out of Pickwick) appeared fairly well. Accepting the
Lecturer as the Representative of good digestion, we could have
wished to have seen, perhaps, a richer glow upon his cheeks—but
this might have been hypercritical. When I entered the room this
Gentleman was being introduced in a few well-chosen words (as the
reporters would say) by the Chairman of the Meeting, who, having
performed his part rapidly, retired behind a side-tahle. _ Thus the
platform was left free to the Lecturer. On the whole it was an
inviting platform. It was decorated with flags, and contained a
stand, upon which were arranged a number of glass bottles, tubes,
and crucibles. Many of us must have hoped, when we saw that
stand, that some of the “ brilliant experiments” that were once the
glory of the old Polytechnic would be revived for our edification.
Hope told a flattering tale. The Lecturer never once rose above the,
level of pouring mere colouring matter from a bottle into a tube, con-
taining a weak solution of starch, which, we understood him to say,
possessed many of the properties of saliva. He began his address by
asking a question. He wanted to know in what light we looked upc n
food p Most of us, no doubt, would have answered off-hand, “ in the
light of something good to eat,” or, had we been wags, “ at break -
I fast in day light, at dinner in gas or candle light.” But neither of