London at Play.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLI, Issue 26, 30 December 1908, Page 48

London at Play.

Fl N AT THE LORD MAYOR’S SHOW. LONDON, November -13, The Lord Mayor's Show, as seen (and heard) last Monday from the windows of the Loudon office of the Auckland “Star,” afforded a good deal of innocent amusement to the company seated thereat. During the numerous halts of the various portions of the procession one heard some queer remarks passing between the crowd on the pavement and the Kings, poets, playwrights and other celebrities composing the pageant. One gentleman, impersonating King Henry VIII., was thus saluted by a man of tire labouring classes:— “Woteher, Bill!” and “Billy,” otherwise Henry, replied. “ ’Elio Alf, ole boy.” “Could yer blow the froth off a pot, Bill?” says Alf, and Henry VIII., curling his tongue round his lips, made answer with emotion, "Not arf!”

Then there was William Shakespeare. It is to be feared that the organisers of the procession had not consulted any of the “authorities” ere selecting the representative of the Bard of Avon for Monday’s procession. He bore as much resemblance to the accepted notion of Shakespeare’s style of beauty, as Landseer’s lions in Trafalgar-square do to the half-starved, browbeaten “King of Beasts” that is to be found in the ordinary travelling circus. And his moustache was a source of endless trouble to him, mid merriment to other people. It would not stop in its proper place, and William’s attempts to re-aflfix it caused yells of laughter. He had no looking-glass, you see. Another figure that caused a good deal of chaff, “pointed as a bayonet, and delicate as the butt end of a gun,” was Caliban. He was really a very ex-

cellent representation of the savage anil deformed slave of Prospero—that “freckled whelp of Sycorax,” whom Coleridge describes as “all earth, all condensed and gross in feelings and images.” But to the crowd at large, he was simply "too funny for words,” and the pavement wit, who, inspired by Caliban’s fearful head of tousled hair, invited his neighbours to gaze upon “the first introduction o’ the door-mat inter H ingland,” had ample reward in shrieks of laughter. The three witches of “Macbeth” came in for a fearful ragging. At every halt invitations to “ ’ave a drop o’ gin, ole dear” were freely extended to them by the lookers-on, and genial suggestions made that they would look much more at home on broomsticks than on horseback. They were also wilfully mistaken for Suffragettes, and many an ironic shout of “Votes for women!” marked their passage through the crowded streets.

If Lord Mayor Truscott thought he was going to improve the minds of his fellow citizens with his “literary pageant,” his knowledge of the London crowd was greatly at fault. High good humour completely triumphed over any desire for historical education that may have possessed any of those who witnessed the show. Everybody was out for fun, and dignity was at a big discount. The show, as Lord Mayors’ Shows have gone lor years past, was a good one, but “the fun of the fair,” which used to precede and succeed the passage of the show through Fleet-street, has to a very great extent departed. In the “bad old days,” a vast amount of amusement used to be derived from the practice of throwing shovelsful of hot pennies in the street, and watching the antics of the juvenile proletariat as they sought to possess themselves of the coins. This primitive and somewhat cruel form of amusement has long been banned by the police, who have also put their foot down upon a much more innocent diversion for which the printers’ devils of Grub-street were primarily responsible, and which caused’ perhaps more fun than anything on Lord Mayor’s Show-day. From the narrow entrance to Bouverie or Whitefriars-streets would emerge a crowd of young fellows apparently intent on lynching some unfortunate fellow creature. Up in the air would fly what at first blush looked liked a human being. Down came the body, and then there were sounds of savage kicking. Then high up again in the air the “body” would be flung, to descend with whatever might be adhering to it, on the heads of the crowd. Then there would he a rush of laughing policemen, who made half-hearted attempts to rescue the “corpse,” but usually failed to do so, until the crowd was tired of the fun, or the “corpse” had been reduced to fragments of clothing and wisps of straw. Those days have apparently gone never to return. Horse play, “ticklers,” confetti throwing, “scent squirts,” all seem to be barred by the Lord Mayor’s Show crowds of to-day, and nearly all that remains of the old “fun of the fair” is the interchange Of badinage and repartee, not always either delicate or edifying.

A new drill book tor cadets'has been issued. It consists of suitable extracts from Infantry Training, 1905, Imperial, as adopted for New Zealand defence force. In parts the terms are slightly altered to suit the purpose of the work. Some sections are included, not because of direct application to the cadet system, but because they enunciate principles that officers, and even cadets themselves, ought to know. Officers of corps, as far as possible, are requested to carry out those instructions to enable cadets to be trained with a view to future admission to adult volunteer corps. The books are handsomely illustrated, and are almost ready for distribution.

A line rainbow trout was inspected at Messrs. Hellaby’s, Ltd., this morning by a member of the “Star” literary staff. It was caught by Mr. J. Mcßae, in the Waikato River, near Taupu, and sent to Inspector Cullen. The length of the trout is 2 feet 7 inches, girth 1 foot 9 inches, and weight 191 b lOozs.