Voces Populi Part 6

[_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?

[Ill.u.s.tration: "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 cla.s.s, 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. d.i.c.ksee's "Tannhauser"_). "_Venus and Tannhauser_"--ah, and is that Venus on the stretcher? Oh, _that's_ her all on fire in the background. Then which is Tannhauser, 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 pa.s.ses 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 pa.s.s 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 quant.i.ty 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!