Voces Populi — At the Royal Academy
MR W.
(_alone_).
I shall have to change my rooms--and I _was_ so comfortable!
Well, well,--another sacrifice to the Cause!
AT THE ROYAL ACADEMY.
IN THE VESTIBULE.
_Visitors ascending staircase, full of enthusiasm and energetic determination not to miss a single Picture, encounter people descending in various stages of mental and physical exhaustion.
At the turnstiles two Friends meet unexpectedly; both being shy men, who, with timely notice, would have preferred to avoid one another, their greetings are marked by an unnatural effusion and followed by embarrassed silence.
_ FIRST SHY MAN (_to break the spell_).
Odd, our running up against one another like this, eh?
SECOND SHY MAN.
Oh, very odd.
(_Looks about him irresolutely, and wonders if it would be decent to pass on.
Decides it will hardly do.
_) Great place for meeting, the Academy, though.
FIRST S.
M.
Yes; sure to come across _somebody_, sooner or later.
[_Laughs nervously, and wishes the other would go.
_ SECOND S.
M.
(_seeing that his friend lingers_).
This your _first_ visit here?
FIRST S.
M.
Yes.
Couldn't very well get away _before_, you know.
[_Feels apologetic, without exactly knowing why.
_ SECOND S.
M.
It's _my_ first visit, too.
(_Sees no escape, and resigns himself.
_) Er--we may as well go round together, eh?
FIRST S.
M.
(_who was afraid this was coming_--_heartily_).
Good!
By the way, I always think, on a first visit, it's best to take a single room, and do that thoroughly.
[_This has only just occurred to him.
_ SECOND S.
M.
(_who had been intending to follow that plan himself_).
Oh, _do_ you?
Now, for _my_ part, I don't attempt to see anything _thoroughly_ the first time.
Just scamper through, glance at the things one oughtn't to miss, get a general impression, and come away.
_Then_, if I don't happen to come again, I've always _done_ it, you see.
But (_considerately_), look here.
Don't let me drag you about, if you'd rather not!
FIRST S.
M.
Oh, but I shouldn't like to feel I was any tie on you.
Don't you mind about me.
I shall potter about in here--for hours, I dare say.
SECOND S.
M.
Ah, well (_with vague consolation_), I shall always know where to _find_ you, I suppose.
FIRST S.
M.
(_brightening visibly_).
Oh dear, yes; I sha'n't be far away.
[_They part with mutual relief, only tempered by the necessity of following the course they have respectively prescribed for themselves.
Nemesis overtakes the_ SECOND S. M.
_in the next Gallery, when he is captured by a Desultory Enthusiast, who insists upon dragging him all over the place to see obscure "bits" and "gems," which are only to be appreciated by ricking the neck or stooping painfully_.
A SUBURBAN LADY (_to Female Friend_).
Oh dear, _how_ stupid of me!
I
_quite_ forgot to bring a pencil!
Oh, _thank_ you, dear, that will do _beautifully_.
It's just a _little_ blunt; but so long as I can _mark_ with it, you know.
You don't think we should avoid the crush if we began at the end room?
Well, perhaps it _is_ less confusing to begin at the beginning, and work steadily through.
IN GALLERY NO.
I.
_A small group has collected before Mr. Wyllie's "Davy Jones's Locker," which they inspect solemnly for some time before venturing to commit themselves to any opinion.
_ FIRST VISITOR (_after devoting his whole mind to the subject_).
Why, it's the Bottom of the Sea--at least (_more cautiously_), that's what it seems to be _intended_ for.
SECOND V.
Ah, and very well done, too.
I wonder, now, how he managed to stay down long enough to paint all that?
[Illustration: "CAPTURED BY A DESULTORY ENTHUSIAST."
] THIRD V.
Practice, I suppose.
I've seen writing done under water myself.
But that was a tank!
FOURTH V.
(_presumably in profound allusion to the fishes and sea-anemones_).
Well, they seem to be 'aving it all their own way down there, don't they?
[_The Group, feeling that this remark sums up the situation, disperses.
_ THE SUBURBAN LADY (_her pencil in full play_).
No. 93. Now what's _that_ about?
Oh, "_Forbidden Sweets_,"--yes, to be sure.
_Isn't_ that charming?
Those two dear little tots having their tea, and the kitten with its head stuck in the jam-pot, and the label and all, and the sticky spoon on the nursery table-cloth--so _natural!
_ I really _must_ mark that.
(_Awards this distinction.
_) 97. "_Going up Top.
_" Yes, _of course_.
Look, Lucy dear, that little fellow has just answered a question, and his master tells him he may go to the top of the class, do you _see_?
And the big boy looking so sulky, he's wishing he had learnt his lesson better.
I do think it's _so_ clever--all the different expressions.
Yes, I shall _certainly_ mark that!
IN GALLERY NO.
II. THE S.
L.
(_doubtfully_).
H'm, No. 156. "_Cloud Chariots_"?
Not very _like_ chariots, though, _are_ they?
HER FRIEND.
I expect it's one of those sort of pictures that you have to look at a long time, and then things gradually come _out_ of it, you know.
THE S.
L.
It _may_ be.
(_Tries the experiment.
_) No, _I_ can't make _anything_ come out--only just clouds and their reflections.
(_Struggling between good-nature and conscientiousness.
_) I _don't_ think I _can_ mark that.
IN GALLERY NO.
III.
A MATRON (_before Mr. Dicksee's "Tannhaeuser"_).
"_Venus and Tannhaeuser_"--ah, and is that Venus on the stretcher?
Oh, _that's_ her all on fire in the background.
Then which is Tannhaeuser, and what are they all supposed to be doing?
[_In a tone of irritation.
_ HER NEPHEW.
Oh, it tells you all about it in the Catalogue--he meets her funeral, you know, and leaves grow on his stick.
THE MATRON (_pursing her lips_).
Oh, a _dead person_.
[_Repulses the Catalogue severely and passes on.
_ FIRST PERSON, _with an "Eye for Art"_ (_before "Psyche's Bath," by the President_).
Not bad, eh?
SECOND PERSON, &c. No, I rather like it.
(_Feels that he is growing too lenient_).
He doesn't give you a very good idea of marble, though.
FIRST P.
&c. No--_that's_ not marble, and he always puts too many folds in his drapery to suit _me_.
FIRST P.
&c. Just what _I_ always say.
It's not natural, you know.
[_They pass on, much pleased with themselves and one another.
_ A FIANCE (_halting before a sea-scape, by Mr. Henry Moore, to_ FIANCEE).
Here, I say, hold on a bit--what's _this_ one?
FIANCEE (_who doesn't mean to waste the whole afternoon over pictures_).
Why, it's only a lot of waves--_come_ on!
THE SUBURBAN L.
Lucy, _this_ is rather nice.
_"Breakfasts for the Porth!
_" (_Pondering_).
I think there must be a mistake in the Catalogue--I don't see any breakfast things--they're cleaning fish, and what's a "Porth!"
Would you mark that--or not?
HER COMP.
Oh, I _think_ so.
THE S.
L.
I don't know.
I've marked such a quantity already and the lead won't hold out much longer.
Oh, it's by Hook, R. A.
Then I suppose it's _sure_ to be all right.
I've marked it, dear.
DUET BY TWO DREADFULLY SEVERE YOUNG LADIES, _who paint a little on China_.
Oh, my _dear_, look at that.
Did you ever _see_ such a thing?
Isn't it too perfectly _awful_?
And there's a thing!
Do come and look at this horror over here.
A "_Study_," indeed.
I should just think it _was_!
Oh, Maggie, don't be so satirical, or I shall die!
No, but _do_ just see this--isn't it _killing?
_ They get worse and worse every year, I declare!
[_And so on.
_ IN GALLERY NO.
V.
_Two Prosaic Persons come upon a little picture, by Mr. Swan, of a boy lying on a rock, piping to fishes.
_ FIRST P.
P.
_That's_ a rum thing!
SECOND P.
P.
Yes, I wasn't aware myself that fishes were so partial to music.
FIRST P.
P.
They may be--out there--(_perceiving that the boy is unclad_)--but it's peculiar altogether--they look like herrings to me.
SECOND P.
P.
Yes--or mackerel.
But (_tolerantly_) I suppose it's a fancy subject.
[_They consider that this absolves them from taking any further interest in it, and pass on.
_ IN GALLERY NO.
XI.
AN OLD LADY (_who judges Art from a purely Moral Standpoint, halts approvingly before a picture of a female orphan_).
Now that really is a nice picture, my dear--a plain black dress and white cuffs--just what I _like_ to see in a young person!
THE S.
L.
(_her enthusiasm greatly on the wane, and her temper slightly affected_).
Lucy, I _wish_ you wouldn't worry so--it's quite impossible to stop and look at _everything_.
If you wanted your tea as badly as _I_ do!
Mark that one?
What, when they neither of them have a single _thing_ on!
Never, Lucy,--and I'm surprised at your suggesting it!
Oh, you meant the next one?
h'm--no, I _can't_ say I care for it.
Well, if I _do_ mark it, I shall only put a tick--for it really is _not_ worth a cross!
COMING OUT.
THE MAN WHO ALWAYS MAKES THE RIGHT REMARK.
H'm. Haven't seen anything I could carry away with me.
HIS FLIPPANT FRIEND.
Too many people about, eh?
Never mind, old chap, you _may_ manage to sneak an umbrella down stairs--I won't say anything!
[_Disgust of his companion, who descends stairs in offended silence, as scene closes.
_
