12 
LAND i^ W A T E R 
March 30, 191G 
of tho Lions. Then many ups and downs ; hard 
times ; no rasli somotimcs to pay the turnpike dues ; 
surly fjatc-keeiM'rs refusing even the guarantee of a five 
pound Chinese (iontj ; private bereavements ; prejudiced 
mayors and magistrates : struggles for good phices at 
the fairs ; mother dead, father dead ; Httle son suddenly 
struck down in a fit, the body washed and borne in the 
van along the frozen Yorkshire roads among the pro- 
perties ; misfortunes checkered by sudden fresh inspirations 
for coining money from mankind s bum]) of wonder — in 
thoso lays of more majestic proportions. " The Tamo 
Oyster," which smoked a churchwarden pipe, was 
a glorious success ; so were " the learned pigs." At last. 
at last, he is up and out on to the high level plateau of 
solid success ; he owns a circus ; he overshadows the 
great Wombwell ; he beats the Yankees ; captures .\stley's; 
])erforms in every capital in lun'ope ; and tnially 
lie reaches the acme of a showman's career and performs 
liefore his Queen and wins her smile. You see this 
showman's story has just the right crescendo in it, and 
he who tells it has just the sterling, romantic simple- 
minded sense of values he ought to liave. It is in the 
vein of Meredith's Jii^gliui^ Jerry. 
We've travelled times to tliis old common ; 
Often we've hung our pots in tiic gorse. 
We've had a stirring life, old woman '. 
You, and I, and the old grey horse. 
Races, and fairs and royal tjccasions 
i'ound us coming to their call ; 
Now they'll miss us at our stations. 
There's a Juggler out ; who jugtrles all ! 
Picture of Bygone Times 
But I have still to speak of the romance of the picture 
of bygone times which is one of the charms of the book. 
He who lives adventurously in the interstices of society 
and picks up a living by pleasing the crowd, whatever 
age he lives in, sees most of such fragments as survive of 
the older order which preceded it. It is what was oldest 
in England of coaching turn-pike days that we see 
reflected in the early pages of this book ; the Merrv 
England, which was also so miserable an England, but 
could still claim kinship with the days of Queen Elizabeth. 
The adventures of the Sanger family upon the road, 
the dangers from Chartists. small-po.\, drunken rioters 
and magistrates, to whom they were " rogues and 
vagabonds " par excellence, make an exciting Odyssey. 
Peel had not invented Bobbies then ; the elder Sanger, a 
man evidently of great resource and courage and natural 
piety, had on occasions to take the law into his own 
hands. Once at Landsdown Fair the showman's booths 
and properties were wrecked by Bath roughs. 
The drink booths were the fust to suffer. Soma 
of the unfortunate owners were half-killed and the mob 
drank itself in a frenzy more acute than before. Then 
they started to wreck the booths. 
•' Canvas was torn to shreds, platforms smashed up and 
made bonfires of, wagons were battered and overturned, 
show parts that had cost their poor owners small fortunes 
battered to fragments. Everywhere was riot, ruin and 
destruction. . . As dawn broke the riot died down, 
and the drunken mob, glutted with the wanton destruc- 
tion of the belongings of poor people who had never 
done them any harm, began to straggle, shouting, swearing 
and singing, back towards Hath 
" Then, by ones and twos, the showncn came together, 
pale with anger, some of them bruised and bleeding from 
the fray, and all resolved on vengeance. They had 
markedone or two of the ringleaders of the riot, and meant 
to give them a taste of showmen's law. The scene is 
before me now as 1 saw it when 1 stood with my brother 
William, still pale with fear, but full of childish curiosity, 
on the steps of our caravan, in the dawn-light, and watched 
• some thirtv stalwart showmen, my father amongst tiicm, 
armed with stout cudgels, mount the hastily collected 
waggon horses, and bare-backed, ride after the retreating 
mob. " 
The showmen's revenge was to capture a dozen, tie them 
at intervals to a rope and drag them through a ])ond. 
•• No notice was taken of their cries, but backwards and 
forwards through the muddy water they were pulled 
till no breath was left in their bodies. One or two. indeed, 
were so still that some of the showmen cried out in alarm 
that they were drowned. " No fear," shouted my father 
in tf)nes"that 1 can remember yet. "That sort do?sn't 
die from drowning. l-Vtch 'cm out." 
it was an ac'c when a disused charnel house in Lon- 
don (once rented by Lord George) was used as a dancing 
room, and the proprietor to attract customers issued the 
notice : " liwdn Chapel — Dancing on the Dead—. 
Admission Three-pence. No Lady or Gentleman admitted 
unless wearing shoes and stockings"; when body- 
snatchers inspired a horror in the poor greater than 
murderers ; when grotesque raggedness with cold, 
grimy nakedness between was a common sight in the 
streets ; when the wonder that Sanger's jierfonnances 
roused in countr\' places, roused also suspicions that he 
was a " warlock " and better underground with a stake 
through his body. In his story these days live again. 
There are sunny scenes as well as lurid ones, like living, 
life-size Cruikshank drawings ht by naphtha-Hares. 
Great Hyde Park Fair 
I like to move about the Great Hyde Park Fair, among 
booths and little theatres set uj) to celebrate the coronation 
of Queen \'ictoria : to visit little (ieorge's show of per 
forming mice or see him balanced on a ladder on the chin 
of an equilibrist ; to jam myself among the crowd, 
thronging the booth of The I'ig-jaced Lady — alas, sfton 
to be repressed as a fraud by law. [,ord George lets us ifito 
the secret of this lady. " Madam Stevens " was really a 
fine brown bear, tht; paws and face of which wore kept 
closely shaved, the white skin imder the fur having a close 
resemblance to that of a human being. Over the paws 
were fitted white gloves, with well stuffed fingers, so that 
the pig-faced lady seemed to have nice plump, white 
arms above them. The bear, dressed in a Leech-bonnet, 
flowing skirt and shawl, sat at a table, imderneath which 
hidden by drapery was a boy with a stick to make the 
pig-faced lady talk. 
" I call your attention, ladies and gentlemen, to the 
greatest wonder of the world! ]?ehold and marvel I -- 
Mmc. Stevens, the pig-faced lady, who is now in her eigh- 
teenth year. I believe that is correct, miss ? (here the 
hidden boy would prod the bear, who gave a grunt). As 
you see, ladies and gentlemen, the young lady understands 
what is said perfectly, though the peculiar formation of 
the jaws has deprived her of the power of uttering human 
speech in return. 
" You were born at Preston in Lancashire ? (.Another 
prod and another gnint) Quite so. And you enjoy good 
licalth and are very happy ? (.Another prod and gnuit.) 
\o\\ are iiKlinod, ! suppose, as other ladies, to be led by 
some gentlemui into the holy bonds of matrimony '■ 
(Here the boy would give an e.xtra prod, causing the bear 
to grunt angrily.) What, no ! Well, well, don't l^e 
cross because I asked you ! " 
Then, when the hat had gone round and the people 
streamed out marvelling, the showman would rush to 
the front, shouting to the crowd outside, "Hear what 
they say ! Hear what they all say about Mme. Stevens, 
the wonderful pig-faced lady ! " But I myself have 
jiattered enough. 
" \\alk up ! Walk up ! Walk up 1 This way for 
a talc of stranger things, scenes and adventures. Lord 
George Sanger is on the road again." 
In a recent appreciation of Alexander Kuprin's novel 
The Duel, published by Messrs. George .\llen and Unwin, the 
title was by a slip of the pen given as The Exile. The Duel 
is a fine example of modern Kussian literature, and deserves 
a wide circulation in this country. 
The war has revealed a surprising wealth of lit^^rary 
expression among officers and men. Not much reaches the 
very highest levels, hut the performance just short of this is 
surprising. .\ delightful volume (5s. net) published b\- 
Messrs. Smith, Elder, and entitled Colwyn Philipps, contains 
poems and extracts from private letters written by this 
gallant officer, elder son of I^ord St. Davids, who "fell at 
Yprcs last May, in his 2()th year. There is here a pcrfectl\- 
delightful little sketch of a morning in a cavalry school. 
Captain I'hiliiips had a strong sense of humour, witness this 
story told in one of his letters about a Canadian man : " Our 
chaps are all right, " he said, " our rifle is a good one, the grub 
is first rate, and our officers— oh, well, we just take tiiCm 
along as mascots! " The verses are the least good of the 
good things in tliis very charming volume, yet many of then- 
are really fine. This verse comes from a little poem : " IV 
Kudyard Kipling," it voices the gratitude of thousands: 
What you've been you'll never kn<jw, 
What a help upon my way. 
In each turn of weal and woe. 
F.vcry hour of everv day. 
