Voces Populi Part 13

AN UNREASONABLE OLD LADY (_arriving breathless, with her grandson and niece_). This'll be the place the balloon goes up from, I wouldn't miss it for anything! Put the child up on that bench, Maria; we'll stand about here till it begins.

MARIA. But _I_ don't see no balloon nor nothing.

[_Which, as the foliage blocks out all but the immediate foreground is scarcely surprising._

THE U. O. L. No more don't I--but it stands to reason there wouldn't be so many looking on if there wasn't _something_ to see. We're well enough where we are, and _I_'m not going further to fare worse to please n.o.body; so you may do as you _like_ about it.

[MARIA _promptly avails herself of this permission_.

THE U. O. L. (_a little later_). Well, it's time they did _something_, I'm sure. Why, the people seem all moving off! and where's that girl Maria got to? Ah, here you are! So you found you were no better off?--_Next_ time, p'raps you'll believe what I tell you. Not that there's any War Balloon as _I_ can see!

MARIA. Oh, there was a capital view from where I was--out in the open there.

THE U. O. L. Why couldn't you say so before? Out in the open! Let's go there then--it's all the same to _me_!

MARIA (_with an undutiful giggle_). It's all the same now--wherever you go, 'cause the balloon's gone up.

THE U. O. L. Gone up! What are you telling me, Maria?

MARIA. I see it go--it shot up ever so fast and quite steady, and the people in the car all waved their 'ats to us. I could see a arm a waving almost till it got out of sight.

THE U. O. L. And me and this innercent waiting here on the seat like lambs, and never dreaming what was goin' on! Oh, Maria, however you'll reconcile it to your conscience, _I_ don't know!

MARIA. Why, whatever are you pitching into _me_ for!

THE U. O. L. It's not that it's any partickler pleasure to _me_, seeing a balloon, though we _did_ get our tea done early to be in time for it--it's the sly deceitfulness of your _conduck_, Maria, which is all the satisfaction I get for coming out with you,--it's the feeling that--well, there, I won't _talk_ about it!

[_In pursuance of which virtuous resolve, she talks about nothing else for the remainder of the day, until the unfortunate_ MARIA _wishes fervently that balloons had never been invented_.

IN THE BUILDING.

_An admiring group has collected before an enormous pin-cushion in the form of a fat star, and about the size of a Church-ha.s.sock._

FIRST SOLDIER (_to his Companion_). Lot 'o work in _that_, yer know!

_Second Soldier._ Yes. (_Thoughtfully._) Not but what--(_becoming critical_)--if I'd been doin' it _myself_, I should ha' chose pins with smaller 'eds on 'em.

FIRST S. (_regarding this as presumptuous_). You may depend on it the man who made _that_ 'ad his reasons for choosing the pins he did--but there's no pleasing some parties!

SECOND S. (_apologetically_). Well, I ain't denying the _Art_ in it, am I?

FIRST WOMAN. I _do_ call that 'andsome, Sarah. See, there's a star, and two 'arps, and a crownd, and I don't know what all--and all done in pins and beads! "Made by Bandsman Brown," too! [_Reading placard._

SECOND W. Soldiers is that clever with their 'ands. Four pounds seems a deal to ask for it, though.

FIRST W. But look at the weeks it must ha' took him to do! (_Reading._) "Containing between ten and eleven thousand pins and beads, and a hundred and ninety-eight pieces of coloured cloth!" Why, the pins alone must ha' cost a deal of money.

SECOND W. Yes, it 'ud be a pity for it to go to somebody as 'ud want to take 'em out.

FIRST W. It ought to be bought up by Gover'ment, that it ought--they're well able to afford it.

_A select party of Philistines, comprising a young Man, apparently in the Army, and his_ MOTHER _and_ SISTER, _are examining Mr. Gilbert's Jubilee Trophy in a spirit of puzzled antipathy_.

THE MOTHER. Dear me, and _that's_ the Jubilee centrepiece, is it? What a heavy-looking thing. I wonder what _that_ cost?

HER SON (_gloomily_). Cost? Why, about two days' pay for every man in the Service!

HIS MOTHER. Well, I call it a shame for the Army to be fleeced for _that_ thing. Are those creatures intended for mermaids, with their tails curled round that gla.s.s ball, I wonder? [_She sniffs._

HER DAUGHTER. I expect it will be crystal, Mother.

HER MOTHER. Very likely, my dear, but--gla.s.s or crystal--_I_ see no sense in it!

DAUGHTER. Oh, it's absurd, of course--still, this figure isn't badly done. Is it supposed to represent St. George carrying the Dragon?

Because they've made the Dragon no bigger than a salmon!

MOTHER. Ah, well, I hope Her Majesty will be better pleased with it than I am, that's all.

[_After which they fall into ecstasies over an industrial exhibit consisting of a drain-pipe, cunningly encrusted with fragments of regimental mess-china set in gilded cement._

_Before a large mechanical clock, representing a fortress, which is striking. Trumpets sound, detachments of wooden soldiers march in and out of gateways, and parade the battlements, clicking for a considerable time._

A SPECTATOR (_with a keen sense of the fitness of things_). What--all that for on'y 'alf past five!

OVERHEARD IN THE AMBULANCE DEPARTMENT.

SPECTATORS (_pa.s.sing in front of groups of models arranged in realistic surroundings_). All the faces screwed up to suffering, you see!... What a nice patient expression that officer on the stretcher has! Yes, they've given _him_ a wax head--some of them are only _papier-mache_....

Pity they couldn't get nearer their right size in 'elmets, though, ain't it?... There's _one_ chap's given up the ghost!... I know that stuffed elephant--he comes from the Indian Jungle at the Colinderies!... I _do_ think it's a pity they couldn't get something more _like_ a mule than this wooden thing! Why, it's quite _flat_, and its ears are only leather, nailed on!... You can't tell, my dear; it may be a peculiar breed out there--cross between a towel-horse and a donkey-engine, don't you know!

IN THE INDIAN JUNGLE SHOOTING-GALLERY.

_At the back, amidst tropical scenery, an endless procession of remarkably undeceptive rabbits of painted tin are running rapidly up and down an inclined plane. Birds jerk painfully through the air above, and tin rats, boars, tigers, lions, and ducks, all of the same size, glide swiftly along grooves in the middle distance. In front, Commissionnaires are busy loading rifles for keen sportsmen, who keep up a lively but somewhat ineffective fusillade._

'ARRIET (_to_ 'ARRY). They 'ave got it up beautiful, I must say. Do you _get_ anything for 'itting them?

'ARRY. On'y the honour.

A FATHER (_to intelligent_ SMALL BOY _in rear of_ NERVOUS SPORTSMAN).

No, I ain't seen him 'it anything _yet_, my son; but you watch. That's a rabbit he's aiming at now.... Ah, _missed_ him!

SMALL BOY. 'Ow d'yer _know_ what the gentleman's a-aiming at, eh, Father?

FATHER. 'Ow? Why, you notice which way he points his gun.