Voces Populi — At the British Museum
IN THE SCULPTURE GALLERIES.
_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 criticize whenever he fails to understand.
The general tone is that of faintly amused and patronizing superiority.
_ A BURLY SIGHTSEER _with a red face_ (_inspecting group representing "Mithras Sacrificing a Bull"_).
H'm; that may be Mithras's notion of 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 o' _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"--that's what _they_ are, yer see.
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 dare say without so much as a "by your leave," or a "thank you!"
[Illustration: "H'M; THAT MAY BE MITHRAS'S NOTION OF MAKING A CLEAN JOB OF IT, BUT IT AIN'T _mine_!"
] THE I.
A.
(_reading_).
"Portrait of Antonia, sister-in-law of the Emperor Tiberius, 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 Adney 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 Adney 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 chiny dogs.
THE A.
I.
(_with ungallant candour_).
'Ark at you!
Why you 'ain't much more sense nor a chiny dog yourself!
MORALIZING 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 some one to teach them more respectable notions!
Well, well!
it ought to make us 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 _want_ 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.
_I_ 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 stonemason 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 humourist_).
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 MORALIZING MATRON.
How it makes one realize 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 only imaginative.
What 'ud be the good o' wings to a bull?
FIANCEE (_on her defence_).
You think you know so much--but it's got a man's 'ed, ain'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 UPPER GALLERIES; ETHNOGRAPHICAL COLLECTION.
THE GRIM GOVERNESS (_directing a scared small boy's attention to a particularly hideous mask_).
See, Henry, 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's 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 any one 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 Hawaiian 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_ HENRY.
MISS GOOLE.
Now, Henry, 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 thigh of which are exposed to view_).
Fancy, Henry, 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 see 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--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 PREHISTORIC GALLERY.
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 hairy-light 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 taking _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.
There'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.
_
