Voces Populi Part 7

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 pa.s.s 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._

At the Horse Show.

TIME--_About 3.30_. _Leaping Compet.i.tion about to begin. The Compet.i.tors are ranged in a line at the upper end of the Hall while the attendants place the hedges in position. Amongst the Spectators in the Area are--a Saturnine Stableman from the country; a c.o.c.kney Groom; a Morbid Man; a Man who is apparently under the impression that he is the only person gifted with sight; a Critic who is extremely severe upon other people's seats; a Judge of Horseflesh; and Two Women who can't see as well as they could wish._

THE DESCRIPTIVE MAN. They've got both the fences up now, d'ye see?

There's the judges going to start the jumping; each rider's got a ticket with his number on his back. See? The first man's horse don't seem to care about jumping this afternoon--see how he's dancing about. Now he's going at it--there, he's cleared it! Now he'll have to jump the next one!

[_Keeps up a running fire of these instructive and valuable observations throughout the proceedings._

THE JUDGE OF HORSEFLESH. Rare good shoulders that one has.

THE SEVERE CRITIC (_taking the remark to apply to the horse's rider_).

H'm, yes--rather--pity he sticks his elbows out quite so much, though.

[_His Friend regards him in silent astonishment. Another Compet.i.tor clears a fence, but exhibits a considerable amount of daylight._

THE SATURNINE STABLEMAN (_encouragingly_). You'll 'ev to set back a bit next journey, Guv'nor!

THE c.o.c.kNEY GROOM. 'Orses 'ud jump better if the fences was a bit 'igher.

THE S. S. They'll be plenty 'oigh enough fur some on 'em.

THE SEVERE CRITIC. Ugly seat that fellow has--all anyhow when the horse jumps.

JUDGE OF HORSEFLESH. Has he? I didn't notice--I was looking at the horse. [SEVERE CRITIC _feels snubbed_.

THE S. S. (_soothingly, as the Compet.i.tor with the loose seat comes round again_). _That's_ not good, Guv'nor!

THE c.o.c.kNEY GROOM. 'Ere's a little bit o' fas.h.i.+on coming down next--why, there's quite a boy on his back.

THE S. S. 'E won't be on 'im long if he don't look out. Cup an ball _I_ call it!

THE MORBID MAN. I suppose there's always a accident o' some sort before they've finished.

FIRST WOMAN. Oh, don't, for goodness' sake, talk like that--I'm sure _I_ don't want to see nothing 'appen.

SECOND WOMAN. Well, you may make your mind easy--for you won't see nothing here; you _would_ have it this was the best place to come to!

FIRST WOMAN. I only said there was no sense in paying extra for the balcony, when you can go in the area for nothing.

SECOND WOMAN (_snorting_). Area, indeed! It might be a good deal airier than what it is, I'm sure--I shall melt if I stay here much longer.

THE MORBID MAN, There's one thing about being so close to the jump as this--if the 'orse jumps sideways--as 'osses will do every now and then--he'll be right in among us before we know where we are, and then there'll be a pretty how-de-do!

SECOND WOMAN (_to her Friend_). Oh, come away, do--it's bad enough to see nothing, let alone having a great 'orse coming down atop of us, and me coming out in my best bonnet, too--come away! [_They leave_.

THE DESCRIPTIVE MAN. Now, they're going to make 'em do some in-and-out jumping, see? they're putting the fences close together--that'll puzzle some of them--ah, he's over both of 'em; very clean that one jumps! Over again! He's got to do it all twice, you see.

THE JUDGE OF HORSEFLESH. Temperate horse, that chestnut.

THE SEVERE CRITIC. Is he, though?--but I suppose they _have_ to be here, eh? Not allowed champagne or whiskey or anything before they go in--like they are on a race-course?

THE J. OF H. No, they insist on every horse taking the pledge before they'll enter him.

THE DESCRIPTIVE MAN. Each of 'em's had a turn at the in-and-out jump now. What's coming next? Oh, the five-barred gate--they're going over that now, and the stone wall--see them putting the bricks on top? That's to _raise_ it.

THE MORBID MAN. None of 'em been off yet; but (_hopefully_) there'll be a nasty fall or two over this business--there's been many a neck broke over a lower gate than that.

[_A Compet.i.tor clears the gate easily, holding the reins casually in his right hand._

THE J. OF H. That man can ride.

THE SEVERE CRITIC. Pretty well--not what I call _business_, though--going over a gate with one hand, like that.

THE J. OF H. Didn't know you were such an authority.

THE S. C. (_modestly_). Oh, I can tell when a fellow has a good seat. I used to ride a good deal at one time. Don't get the chance much now--worse luck!

THE J. OF H. Well, I can give you a chance, as it happens. (SEVERE CRITIC _accepts with enthusiasm, and the inward reflection that the chance is much less likely to come off than he is himself_.) You wait till the show is over, and they let the horses in for exercise. I know a man who's got a cob here--regular little devil to go--bucks a bit at times--but you won't mind that. I'll take you round to the stall and get my friend to let you try him on the tan. How will that do you, eh?

THE SEVERE CRITIC (_almost speechless with grat.i.tude_). Oh--er--it will _do_ me right enough--capital! That is--it _would_, if I hadn't an appointment, and had my riding things on, and wasn't feeling rather out of sorts, and hadn't promised to go home and take my wife in the Park, and it's her birthday, too, and, then, I've long made it a rule never to mount a strange horse, and--er--so you understand how it is don't you?