Voces Populi Part 11

OUTSIDE.

_A crowd is staring stolidly at the gorgeously gilded and painted entrance, with an affectation of superior wisdom to that of the weaker-minded, who sneak apologetically up the steps from time to time. A tall-hatted orchestra have just finished a tune, and hung their brazen instruments up like joints on the hooks above them._

A WOMAN CARRYING AN INFANT (_to her_ HUSBAND). Will 'ee goo in, Joe?

JOE (_who is secretly burning to see the show_). Naw. Sin it arl afoor arfen enough. Th' outside's th' best on it, I reckon.

HIS WIFE (_disappointed_). Saw 'tis, and naw charge for lookin' at 'en neither.

THE PROPRIETOR. Ladies and Gentlemen, Re-mem-bar! This is positively the last opportunity of witnessing Denman's Celebrated Menagerie--the largest in the known world! The Lecturer is now describing the animals, after which Mlle. Cravache and Zambango, the famous African Lion-tamers, will go through their daring feats with forest-bred lions, tigers, bears, and hyenas, for the last time in this town. Remembar--the last performance this evening!

JOE (_to his_ WIFE). If ye'd _like_ to hev a look at 'em, I wun't say nay to et.

HIS WIFE. I dunno as I care partickler 'bout which way 'tis.

JOE (_annoyed_). Bide where 'ee be then.

HIS WIFE. Theer's th' child, Joe, to be sure.

JOE. Well we bain't a gooin' in, and so th' child wun't come to no 'arm, and theer's a hend on it!

HIS WIFE. Nay, she'd lay in my arms as quiet as quiet. I wur on'y thinkin', Joe, as it 'ud be somethin' to tell her when she wur a big gell, as her daddy took her to see th' wild beasties afoor iver she could tark--that's arl I wur meanin', Joe. And they'll let 'er goo in free, too.

JOE. Ay, that'll be fine tellin's fur 'er, sure 'nough. Come arn, Missus, we'll tek th' babby in--happen she'll niver git th' chance again.

[_They mount the steps eagerly._

INSIDE.

JOE'S WIFE (_with a vague sense of being defrauded_). I thart thee'rd ha' bin moor smell, wi' so many on 'em!

JOE. They doan't git naw toime for it, I reckon, allus on the rord as they be.

THE LECTURER. Illow me to request yar kind hattention for a moment.

(Stand back there, you boys, and don't beyave in such a silly manner!) We har now arrived at the Haswail, or Sloth Bear, described by Buffon as 'aving 'abits which make it a burden to itself. (_Severely._) The Haswail. In the hajoinin' cage observe the Loocorricks, the hony hanimal to oom fear is habsolootly hunknown. When hattacked by the Lion, he places his 'ed between his fore-legs, and in that position awaits the honset of his would-be destroyer.

JOE'S WIFE. I thart it wur th' _hostridge_ as hacted that away.

JOE. Ostridges ain't gotten they long twisted harns as iver _I_ heard on.

HIS WIFE (_stopping before another den_). Oh, my blessed! 'Ere be a queer-lookin' critter, do 'ee look at 'en, Joe. What'll _he_ be now?

JOE. How do 'ee suppose as I be gooin' to tell 'ee the name of 'en?

He'll likely be a sart of a 'a.r.s.e. [_Dubiously._

HIS WIFE. They've a let' en git wunnerful ontidy fur sure. 'Ere, Mister (_to_ STRANGER) can you tell us the name of that theer hanimal?

STRANGER. That--oh, that's a Gnu.

JOE'S WIFE. He says it be a noo.

JOE. A noo _what_?

HIS WIFE. Why, a noo _hanimal_, I s'pose.

JOE. Well, he bain't naw himprovement on th' hold 'uns, as I can see.

They'd better ha' left it aloan if they couldn't do naw better nor _'im_. Dunno what things be coming to, hinventin' o' noo hanimals at this time o' day.

BEFORE ANOTHER CAGE.

A BOOZED AND ARGUMENTATIVE RUSTIC. I sez as that 'un's a fawks, an' I'm ready to prove it on anny man.

A COMPANION (_soothingly_). Naw, naw, 'e baint naw fawks. I dunno what 'tis,--but 'tain't naw fawks nawhow.

B. AND A. RUSTIC. I tell 'ee _'tis_ a fawks, I'm sure on it. (_To_ MILD VISITOR) _Bain't_ 'e a fawks, Master, eh?

MILD VISITOR. Well, really, if you ask me, I should say it was a hyena.

THE RUSTIC'S COMP. A hyanna! ah, that's a deal moor like; saw 'tis!

THE RUSTIC. A pianner? Do 'ee take me vur a vool? I'll knack th' 'ed arf o' the man as plays 'is priskies wi' me, I wull! Wheer be 'e? Let me get at 'en!

[MILD V. _not being prepared to defend his opinion by personal combat, discreetly loses himself in crowd_.

ON THE ELEPHANT'S BACK.

SECOND BOY. Sit a bit moor forrard, Billy, cann't 'ee!

FIRST BOY. _Cann't_, I tell 'ee, I be sittin' on th' scruff of 'is neck as 'tis.

THIRD BOY. I can see my vaither, I can. 'Ere, vaither, vaither, look at me--see wheer _I_ be!

FOURTH BOY (_a candid friend_). Shoot oop, cann't 'ee', ya young gozzle-'ead! Think ya vaither niver see a ha.s.s on a h.e.l.lyphant afoor!

FIFTH BOY. These yere h.e.l.liphants be main straddly roidin'. I wish 'e wudn't waak honly waun haff of 'en at oncest, loike. What do 'ee mean, a kitchin' old o' me behind i' that way, eh, Jimmy Pa.s.sons!

[Ill.u.s.tration: "I SEZ AS THAT UN'S A FAWKS, AN' I'M READY TO PROVE IT ON ANNY MAN."]

SIXTH BOY. _You'd_ ketch 'old 'o hanything if you was like me, a slidin'

down th' h.e.l.liphant's ta-ail.

FIFTH BOY. If 'ee doan't let go o' me, I'll job th' h.e.l.liphant's ribs, and make 'un gallop, I will, so _now_, Jimmy Pa.s.sons!

IN FRONT OF THE LIONS' DEN DURING PERFORMANCE.