The door opens. A row of figures, covered over with sheets, stand on rout seats round the room. One or two reclining figures in the foreground. Overture on the violin, “How doth the little busy bee,” by Roderigo Pipkins, the meandering musician.
A servant in livery then enters, and uncovers the wax-work figures, revealing—
| Joan of Arc, represented by | Miss Florence Edwards. |
| Queen of Night | Miss Emily Cathcart. |
| Field Marshal the Duke of Wellington | Master Alec Boyce. |
| Richard III. | Master Walter Stanley. |
| Lay Figures, &c., &c. | |
Enter Alonzo Napoleon Smith, as Lecturer.
Ladies and Gentlemen, at the request of the Universe, seconded by the United States of America, I have brought my caravan from the Boundless Prairie, in order to raise the tone of the fine arts in your country, and to devote the proceeds of the entertainment to the liquidation of your national debt. No, no! not a word of thanks, I beg. Such an audience as this before me fills me with awe, and I speak with authority when I say that had I not a dash of Minerva’s wisdom my nervous system would hardly stand the ordeal.
I will not trouble you with an account of how I collected the information which will be contained in my brief lecture. Suffice it to say that a friend having presented me with a copy of the Bodleian Library, and having taken apartments in the British Museum for some time past, not to mention the fact of a visit to the Alexandrian Library prior to the late disastrous fire, has posted me up in the points which will be brought under your notice. But as Homer very beautifully says in his last little work, we have—
“Ad referendum in loco, viva voce summum bonum videlicet.”
Let our business be to show the product of the busy bee, namely, these “neatly spread” wax figures.
And first let me call your attention to Joan of Arc.
(Joan of Arc moves her head, and raises her hand mechanically).