"Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasant duty this evening to give you a lecture on the beautiful city of Bombay; and, with the assistance of the magnificent dissolving views which I have at my command, the little trip which I propose to take in your company will prove almost as good as the reality to those who have not been fortunate enough to visit Bombay, and will recall most pleasant recollections to those who have. We will start by the ten o'clock express to Leeds. I am aware that this is somewhat out of the way, but it is worth while deviating a few hundreds of miles in order to travel by the new first-class carriages now running on the North South East Western line. This is, doubtless, the best line in the kingdom. I have no interest in the line whatever, although I quite appreciate the honour which the directors have conferred upon me by presenting me with a free pass. To return to the subject of Bombay. As one cannot leave this tight little island without crossing the dreadful Channel, I recommend those of my audience who are not good sailors to procure a tin of 'Bankem's Anti-Seasick Biscuits;' they are an infallible remedy, and can be procured at Brown's in Cheapside, Jones's at Charing Cross, and Robinson's in Piccadilly. My sole reason in mentioning this, is the comfort of the British public. Well, eventually we reach Bombay, and there is a deal to see. You should get one of "Jidson's double binocular, concave, magnifying, four-jointed field glasses.' The next four views are of 'Messrs. Jidson's Warehouses in the City.' The pavements being hot in Bombay, I should recommend your taking a pair of 'Shoeling's leather-sandalled, woollen-lined bluchers.' There is no boot manufacturer's to equal these bluchers for walking abroad. If you enquire at the door, at the conclusion of the lecture, they will give you Messrs. Shoeling's card and circular of full particulars. I have often wondered why, in an enterprising city like Bombay, they have never laid down 'Johnson's Tar Macadamised Wood Pavements.' The next view is an instantaneous photograph of Messrs. Johnson's employes laying down the pavement in Scent Street, Bermondsey. This pavement is more successful than any other ever tried in the vast metropolis. Their agent is James Wilkins, 19A Stone Buildings. On arriving at Bombay, I should suggest your going to the 'Golden Hawk,' English hotel; proprietor, Mr. Mulgan Jackson, a most civil landlord. The prices are moderate; and you can have an early bath, if you wish, although I should advise your taking with you a 'Scalden's folding indiarubber douche bath.' They take up little room, and only weigh a couple of hundredweight. Do not take candles with you, for they melt in Bombay immediately. Take a 'Flamer's duplex paraffin fusel lamp,' a sample of which I produce for your inspection. As you may not be able to get the right oil in Bombay, you will be compelled to take a few gallons with you; and, while I think of it, if you want to write home, get from Mr. Williams, 290 Bridge Street, Marylebone Square, a ninepenny 'Multum in Parvo,' which contains a writing tablet, bottle of 'undryupable ink,' a quire of note-paper (four different tints), envelopes to match, four steel pens, two quill ditto and wiper, wafers, ink-eraser, stick of sealing-wax, and an almanack. Ladies and gentlemen, the next view, a photograph of 'Wheeler's double-tyred tricycle,' will conclude the first of my series of six lectures on Bombay. I thank you for your kind attention. The diving-bell will now descend in the great hall, and, on your way there, please don't forget to look at the stall containing specimens of 'Messrs. Glasse's folding perambulators,' as they may useful if you desire to take your children with you to Bombay."
Alas! the lecturer in town and country seems to have had his day. When I was a boy, there were hundreds of lecturers on thousands of subjects. During the winter months there were lecturers everywhere. Elderly people went to be instructed; young men and women to "eye" each other; while boys went invariably to be "turned out."
Dissolving views were the most patronised of the serious lectures, and I do not think I ever went to one at which some unfortunate person was not ejected. The darkness tempts unruly people to interrupt. It is with much pain and regret that I confess to having been myself politely requested to leave the Polytechnic (before I was engaged there) for unseemly conduct. On one occasion the lecturer was stating, amidst breathless silence, "This particular bark is infested with ten thousand millions of parasites." I simply said, in a high falsetto, "Oh, indeed!" The lights were turned up, and I was turned out!
Professor Pepper always took most kindly to me, and it was his only disappointment, I believe, that I could not introduce the immortal ghost-effect in my humorous scenas.
In the spring of 1871 I produced "The Puddleton Penny Readings," and in the autumn "Theatricals at Thespis Lodge." That was my last engagement there; for Dr. Croft came into power, and wrote most of the humorous entertainments himself. These were designed entirely for the magic lantern, and had, therefore, to be given in the dark. I naturally could not see my way to undertake them, and reluctantly refused his kind offer to stay on.
One little story, and I bid farewell to the old Polytechnic.
Professor Pepper was a perfect adept at satisfying an audience; if by chance the experiments went wrong; and sometimes they did go wrong, and no mistake, in the good old days, at the Polytechnic. I shall never forget the first-night failure of an entertainment called "The Arabian Mystery," and the manner in which Professor Pepper, by good temper and chaff, prevented a crowded audience from being very disagreeable. "The Arabian Mystery" may be explained as follows: One girl was blindfolded and placed on the platform, with her back to the audience. A large screen was then placed so as to conceal her from the public. Another girl walked down the centre aisle with a pack of cards, and then waited the Professor's orders. Professor Pepper then produced a white board, about four feet long by two and a half wide, on which appeared in black some hieroglyphics that I have no hesitation whatever in denouncing as sham. After dwelling on the mysteries of this supposed Arabian fable, or whatever it was, Professor Pepper threw it on to the stage in front of the screen. (I may mention that the entertainment took place in the small theatre which some years afterwards was burned down.) The audience tittered considerably when the board of hieroglyphics was pitched upon the stage; and Pepper, with great solemnity, called to the poor girl, who was standing amongst the audience in a great state of nervousness, and instructed her to request some lady or gentleman to "select a card." Someone chose a card, and handed it back to the girl, who walked at once to a particular spot in the aisle, and, by means of a series of pressures of the foot (which were perceptible to everyone in front of the house), tried to convey the name of the card by electricity to the girl behind the screen. There was a long pause, and no reply; during which Professor Pepper said to the girl in front:
"No wonder she does not tell you the name of the card, for you have not asked her to do so."
There were a few ironical cheers then, which only succeeded in making the poor more nervous than ever.
Professor Pepper again addressed her, saying: