Voces Populi

Mr. Whiterose (surprised). You say so? Then you too are of the Young England Party! I am rejoiced to hear it. You cheer me; it is a sign that the good Cause is advancing.

The S. S. Advancin'? I believe yer. Why, I know a dozen and more as are workin' 'art and soul for it!

Mr. W. You do? We are making strides, indeed! Our England has suffered these usurpers too long.

The S. S. Yer right. But we'll chuck 'em out afore long, and it'll be "Over goes the Show" with the lot, eh?

Mr. W. I had no idea that the – er – intelligent artisan classes were so heartily with us. We must talk more of this. Come and see me. Bring your friends – all you can depend upon. Here is my card.

The S. S. (putting the card in the lining of his hat). Right, Guv'nor; we'll come. I wish there was more gents like yer, I do!

Mr. W. We are united by a common bond. We both detest – do we not? – the Hanoverian interlopers. We are both pledged never to rest until we have brought back to the throne of our beloved England, her lawful sovereign lady – (uncovering) – our gracious Mary of Austria-Este, the legitimate descendant of Charles the Blessed Martyr!

The S. S. 'Old on, Guv'nor! Me and my friends are with yer so fur as doing away with these 'ere hidle Guelphs; but blow yer Mary of Orstria, yer know. Blow 'er!

Mr. W. (horrified). Hush – this is rank treason! Remember – she is the lineal descendant of the House of Stuart!

The S. S. What of it? There won't be no lineal descendants when we git hour way, 'cause there won't be nothing to descend to nobody. The honly suv'rin we mean to 'ave is the People – the Democrisy. But there, you're young, me and my friends'll soon tork you over to hour way o' thinking. I dessay we 'aint fur apart, as it is. I got yer address, and we'll drop in on yer some night – never fear. No hevenin' dress, o' course?

Mr. W. Of course. I – I'll look out for you. But I'm seldom in – hardly ever, in fact.

The S. S. Don't you fret about that. Me and my friends ain't nothing partickler to do just now. We'll wait for yer. I should like yer to know ole Bill Gabb. You should 'ear that feller goin' on agin the Guelphs when he's 'ad a little booze – it 'ud do your 'art good. Well, I on'y come in 'ere as a deligate like, to report, and I seen enough. So 'ere's good-day to yer.

Mr W. (alone). I shall have to change my rooms – and I was so comfortable! Well, well, – another sacrifice to the Cause!

AT THE ROYAL ACADEMY

IN THE VESTIBULE

Visitors ascending staircase, full of enthusiasm and energetic determination not to miss a single Picture, encounter people descending in various stages of mental and physical exhaustion. At the turnstiles two Friends meet unexpectedly; both being shy men, who, with timely notice, would have preferred to avoid one another, their greetings are marked by an unnatural effusion and followed by embarrassed silence

First Shy Man (to break the spell). Odd, our running up against one another like this, eh?

Second Shy Man. Oh, very odd. (Looks about him irresolutely, and wonders if it would be decent to pass on. Decides it will hardly do.) Great place for meeting, the Academy, though.

First S. M. Yes; sure to come across somebody, sooner or later.

[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?

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 class, 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. Dicksee's "Tannhäuser"). "Venus and Tannhäuser" – ah, and is that Venus on the stretcher? Oh, that's her all on fire in the background. Then which is Tannhäuser, 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 passes 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.