Punch (99.1890)

132

PUNCH, OK THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [September 13, 1890.

VOCES POPULI.

AT THE BRITISH MUSEUM.
In the Sctjxptube Gallebies.

Sightseers discovered drifting languidly along in a state of depression,
only tempered by the occasional exercise of the right of every
free-born Briton to criticise whenever he fails to understand.
The general tone is that of faintly amused and patronising
superiority,

A Burly Sightseer, with a red face (inspecting group representing

"Mithras Sacrificing a Bull"). H'm; that may

be Mithbas's notion o' making a clean job of it,

but it ain't mine !

A Woman (examining a fragment from base

of sculptured column with a puzzled expression,

as she reads the inscription). "Lower portion

of female figure—probably a Bacchante." Well,

how they know who it's intended for, when there

ain't more than a bit of her skirt left, beats me!

Her Companion, Oh, I s'pose they've got to

put a name to it of some sort.

An Intelligent Artisan (out for the day with

his Fiancee—reading from pedestal), "Part of

a group of As-Astrala—no, Astraga—lizontes"
Refused Admit- _fhat Yg what tlxey ar6) yer eee.

ance- Fiancee. But who were they ?

The I. A. "Well, I can't tell yer—not for certain; but I expect
they'd be the people who in'abited Astragalizontia.

'Fiancee. Was that what they used to call Ostralia before it was
discovered ? (They come to the Clytie bust.) Why, if that isn't the
same head Mrs, Meggles has under a glass shade in her front window,
only smaller—and hers is alabaster, too! But fancy them going and
copying it, and I daresay without so much as a " by your leave," or
a "thank you! "

The I. A. (reading). "Portrait of Antonia, sister-in-law of the
Emperor Tibebtus, in the character of Clytie turning into a sunflower."

Fiancee. Lor! They did queer things in those days, didn't they ?
(Stopping before another bust.) Who's that ?

The I. A. 'Ed of Ariadne.

Fiancee (slightly surprised). What!—not young Adnet down
our street ? I didn't know as he'd been took in stone.

The I. A. How do you suppose they'd 'ave young Adnet in
among this lot—why, that's antique !

Fiancee. Well, I was thinking it looked more like a female. But
if it's meant for old Mr. Teak, the shipbuilder's daughter, it flatters
her up considerable; and, besides, I always understood as her name
was Betsy.

The I. A. No, no; what a girl you are for getting things wrong!
that 'ed was cut out years and years ago !

Fiancee. Well, she's gone off since, that's all; but I wonder at
old Mr. Teak letting it go out of the family, instead of putting it on
his mantelpiece along with the lustres and the two ehiny dogs.

The I. A. (icith ungalkint candour). 'Ark at you! Why, you ain't
muoh more sense nor a chiny dog yourself!

Moralising Matron {before the Venus of Ostia). And to think of
the poor ignorant Greeks worshipping a shameless hussey like that;
it's a pity they hadn't someone to teach them more respectable
notions! Well, well! it ought to make lis thankful we don't live in
those benighted times, that it ought!

A Connoisseur (after staring at a colossal Greek lion). A lion, eh ?
Well, it's another proof to my mind that the ancients hadn't got very
far in the statuary line. Now, if you loant to see a stone lion done
true to Nature, you've only to walk any day along the Euston Road.

A Practical Man. I dessay it's a fine collection enough, but it's
a pity the things ain't more perfect. 2" should ha' thought, with so
many odds and ends and rubbish lying about as is no use to nobody
at present, they might ha' used it up in mending some that only
requires a arm 'ere, or a leg there, or a 'ed and what not, to make
'em as good as ever. But ketch them (he means the Officials) taking
any extra trouble if they can help it!

His Companion. Ah, but yer see it ain't so easy fitting on bits
that belonged to something different. You've got to look at it
that way!

The P. M. I don't see no difficulty about it. Why, any stone-
mason could cut down the odd pieces to fit well enough, and they
wouldn't have such a neglected appearance as they do now.

A Group has collected round a Gigantic Arm in red granite.

First Sightseer. There's a arm for yer!

Second S. (a humorist). Yes; 'ow would yer like to'ave that
come a punching your 'ed ?

Third S. (thoughtfully). I expect they've put it up 'ere as a
sarmple, like.

The Moralising Matron. How it makes one realise that there
were giants in those days!

Her Friend. But surely the size must be a little exaggerated,
don't you think ? Oh, is this the God Ptah ?

[ The M. M. says nothing, but clicks her tongue to express a grieved
pity, after which she passes on.
The Intelligent Artisan and his Fiancee have entered the Nineveh
Gallery, and are regarding an immense human-headed winged bull.

The I. A, (indulgently). Rum-looking sort o' beast that ere.

Fiancee. Ye-es—I wonder if it's a likeness of some animal they
used to 'ave then ?

The I. A. I did think you was wider than that!—it's on'y
imaginative. What 'ud be tbe good o' wings to a bull ?

Fiancee (on her defence). You think you know so much—but it's
got a man's 'ed, hain't it ? and I know there used to be 'orses with
'alf a man where the 'ed ought to be, because I've seen their pictures
—so there!

The I. A. I dunno what you've got where your 'ed ought to .be,
torking such rot!

In the Uppeb Galleries ; Ethnographical Collection.
A Grim Governess (directing a scared small boy's attention to a
particularly hideous mask). See, Henbt, that's the kind of mask
worn by savages!
Henry. Always—or only on the fifth of November, Miss Goole ?
[He records a mental vow never to visit a Savage Island on Guy
Fawkes' Day, and makes a prolonged study of the mask,
with a view to future nightmares.
A kind, but dense Uncle (to Niece), All these curious things were
made by cannibals, Ethel—savages who eat one another you know.

Ethel (suggestively). But, I suppose, Uncle, they wouldn't eat one
another if they had anyone to give them buns, would they ?

\Her Uncle discusses the suggestion elaborately, but without
appreciating the hint; the Governess has caught sight of
a huge and hideous Hatoaiian Idol, with a furry orange-
coloured head, big mother-o'-pearl eyes, with black balls for
the pupils, and a grinning mouth picked out with shark's
teeth, to which she introduces the horrified Henbt.
Miss Goole. Now, Henbt, you see the kind of idol the poor
savages say their prayers to.

Harry (tremulously). But n—not just before they go to bed, do
they, Miss Goole ?

Among the Mummies.
The Uncle. That's King Rameses' mummy, Ethel.
Ethel. And what was her name, Uncle ?

The Governess (halting before a case containing a partially unrolled
mummy, the spine and thiqh of which are exposed to view). Fancy,
Henbt, that's part of an Egyptian who has been dead for thousands
of years ! Why, you're -not frightened, are you ?

Harry (shaking). No, I'm not frightened, Miss Goole—only, if
you don't mind, I—I'd rather seo a gentleman not quite so dead.
And there's one over there with a gold face and glass eyes, and he
looked at me, and—and please, I don't think this is the place to
bring such a little boy as me to!

A Party is examining a Case of Mummied Animals,

The Leader. Here you are, you see, mummy cats—don't they
look comical all stuck up in a row there ?

First Woman. Dear, dear—to think o' going to all that expense
when they might have had 'em stuffed on a cushion! And monkeys,
and dogs too—well, I'm sure, fancy that, now!

Second Woman. And there's a mummied crocodile down there.
I don't see what they'd want with a mummy crocodile, do you ?

The leader (with an air of perfect comprehension of Egyptian
customs). Well, you see, they took whatever they could get 'old of,
they did.

In the Pbehistoeic Gallebt.

Old Lady (to~Policeman). Oh, Policeman, can you tell me if
there's any article here that's supposed to have belonged to Adam ?

Policeman (a wag in his way). Well, Mum, we 'ave 'ad the
'andle of his spade, and the brim of his garden 'at, but they wore
out last year and 'ad to be thrown away—things won't last for
ever—even 'ere, you know.

Going" Out.

A Peevish Old Man. I ain't seen anything to call worth seeing,
I ain't. In our museum at 'ome they've a lamb with six legs, and
hairylight stones as big as cannon-balls; but there ain't none of that
sort 'ere, and I'm dog-tired trapesing over these boards, I am!

His Daughter (a candid person). Ah, I ought to ha' known it
warn't much good takin' you out to enjoy yourself—you're too old,
you are!

Ethel's Uncle (cheerily). Well, Ethel, I think we've seen all
there is to be seen, eh ?
Ethel. TheTe's one room we haven't been into yet, Uncle dear.
Uncle. Ha—and what's that ?
Ethel (persuasively). The Refreshment Room.

[The hint is accepted at last.

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