striking.” That was why he laid out five millions on his celebrated Museum of Freaks, with a staff of competent professors and lecturers. “The McCabe Museum of Natural Varieties, lectures and all, is open gratuitously to the citizens of our Republic, and to intelligent foreigners.” That was how Pappa put it. I say that he dead-headed creation!’
‘Truly Republican munificence,’ said Merton, ‘worthy of your great country.’
‘Well, I should smile,’ said Miss McCabe.
‘But—excuse my insular ignorance—I do not exactly understand how a museum of freaks, admirably organised as no doubt it is, contributes to the cause of popular education.’
‘You have museums even in London?’ asked Miss McCabe.
Merton assented.
‘Are they not educational?’
‘The British Museum is mainly used by the children of the poor, as a place where they play a kind of subdued hide-and-seek,’ said Merton.
‘That’s because they are not interested in tinned Egyptian corpses and broken Greek statuary ware,’ answered the fair Republican. ‘Now, Mr. Merton, did you ever see or hear of a popular museum, a museum that the People would give its cents to see?’
‘I have heard of Mr. Barnum’s museum,’ said Merton.