The Pandorama
Although the party was not supposed to begin till six o’clock, Bert
turned up at half past four, bringing the `Pandoramer’ with him.
At about half past five the other guests began to arrive. Elsie and
Charley Linden came first, the girl in a pretty blue frock trimmed
with white lace, and Charley resplendent in a new suit, which, like
his sister’s dress, had been made out of somebody’s cast-off clothes
that had been given to their mother by a visiting lady. It had taken
Mrs Linden many hours of hard work to contrive these garments; in
fact, more time than the things were worth, for although they looked
all right – especially Elsie’s – the stuff was so old that it would
not wear very long: but this was the only way in which she could get
clothes for the children at all: she certainly could not afford to buy
them any. So she spent hours and hours making things that she knew
would fall to pieces almost as soon as they were made.
After these came Nellie, Rosie and Tommy Newman. These presented a
much less prosperous appearance than the other two. Their mother was
not so skilful at contriving new clothes out of old. Nellie was
wearing a grown-up woman’s blouse, and by way of ulster she had on an
old-fashioned jacket of thick cloth with large pearl buttons. This
was also a grown-up woman’s garment: it was shaped to fit the figure
of a tall woman with wide shoulders and a small waist; consequently,
it did not fit Nellie to perfection. The waist reached below the poor
child’s hips.
Tommy was arrayed in the patched remains of what had once been a good
suit of clothes. They had been purchased at a second-hand shop last
summer and had been his `best’ for several months, but they were now
much too small for him.
Little Rosie – who was only just over three years old – was better off
than either of the other two, for she had a red cloth dress that
fitted her perfectly: indeed, as the district visitor who gave it to
her mother had remarked, it looked as if it had been made for her.
`It’s not much to look at,’ observed Nellie, referring to her big
jacket, but all the same we was very glad of it when the rain came
on.’
The coat was so big that by withdrawing her arms from the sleeves and
using it as a cloak or shawl she had managed to make it do for all
three of them.
Tommy’s boots were so broken that the wet had got in and saturated his
stockings, so Nora made him take them all off and wear some old ones
of Frankie’s whilst his own were drying at the fire.
Philpot, with two large paper bags full of oranges and nuts, arrived
just as they were sitting down to tea – or rather cocoa – for with the
exception of Bert all the children expressed a preference for the
latter beverage. Bert would have liked to have cocoa also, but
hearing that the grown-ups were going to have tea, he thought it would
be more manly to do the same. This question of having tea or cocoa
for tea became a cause of much uproarious merriment on the part of the
children, who asked each other repeatedly which they liked best, `tea
tea?’ or `cocoa tea?’ They thought it so funny that they said it over
and over again, screaming with laughter all the while, until Tommy got
a piece of cake stuck in his throat and became nearly black in the
face, and then Philpot had to turn him upside down and punch him in
the back to save him from choking to death. This rather sobered the
others, but for some time afterwards whenever they looked at each
other they began to laugh afresh because they thought it was such a
good joke.
When they had filled themselves up with the `cocoa-tea’ and cakes and
bread and jam, Elsie Linden and Nellie Newman helped to clear away the
cups and saucers, and then Owen lit the candles on the Christmas tree
and distributed the toys to the children, and a little while
afterwards Philpot – who had got a funny-looking mask out of one of
the bon-bons – started a fine game pretending to be a dreadful wild
animal which he called a Pandroculus, and crawling about on all fours,
rolled his goggle eyes and growled out he must have a little boy or
girl to eat for his supper.
He looked so terrible that although they knew it was only a joke they
were almost afraid of him, and ran away laughing and screaming to
shelter themselves behind Nora or Owen; but all the same, whenever
Philpot left off playing, they entreated him to `be it again’, and so
he had to keep on being a Pandroculus, until exhaustion compelled him
to return to his natural form.
After this they all sat round the table and had a game of cards;
`Snap’, they called it, but nobody paid much attention to the rules of
the game: everyone seemed to think that the principal thing to do was
to kick up as much row as possible. After a while Philpot suggested a
change to `Beggar my neighbour’, and won quite a lot of cards before
they found out that he had hidden all the jacks in the pocket of his
coat, and then they mobbed him for a cheat. He might have been
seriously injured if it had not been for Bert, who created a diversion
by standing on a chair and announcing that he was about to introduce
to their notice `Bert White’s World-famed Pandorama’ as exhibited
before all the nobility and crowned heads of Europe, England, Ireland
and Scotland, including North America and Wales.
Loud cheers greeted the conclusion of Bert’s speech. The box was
placed on the table, which was then moved to the end of the room, and
the chairs were ranged in two rows in front.
The `Pandorama’ consisted of a stage-front made of painted cardboard
and fixed on the front of a wooden box about three feet long by two
feet six inches high, and about one foot deep from back to front. The
`Show’ was a lot of pictures cut out of illustrated weekly papers and
pasted together, end to end, so as to form a long strip or ribbon.
Bert had coloured all the pictures with water-colours.
Just behind the wings of the stage-front at each end of the box – was
an upright roller, and the long strip of pictures was rolled up on
this. The upper ends of the rollers came through the top of the box
and had handles attached to them. When these handles were turned the
pictures passed across the stage, unrolling from one roller and
rolling on to the other, and were illuminated by the light of three
candles placed behind.
The idea of constructing this machine had been suggested to Bert by a
panorama entertainment he had been to see some time before.
`The Style of the decorations,’ he remarked, alluding to the painted
stage-front, ‘is Moorish.’
He lit the candles at the back of the stage and, having borrowed a
tea-tray from Nora, desired the audience to take their seats. When
they had all done so, he requested Owen to put out the lamp and the
candles on the tree, and then he made another speech, imitating the
manner of the lecturer at the panorama entertainment before mentioned.
`Ladies and Gentlemen: with your kind permission I am about to
hinterduce to your notice some pitchers of events in different parts
of the world. As each pitcher appears on the stage I will give a
short explanation of the subject, and afterwards the band will play a
suitable collection of appropriated music, consisting of hymns and all
the latest and most popular songs of the day, and the audience is
kindly requested to join in the chorus.
`Our first scene,’ continued Bert as he turned the handles and brought
the picture into view, `represents the docks at Southampton; the
magnificent steamer which you see lying alongside the shore is the
ship which is waiting to take us to foreign parts. As we have already
paid our fare, we will now go on board and set sail.’
As an accompaniment to this picture Bert played the tune of `Goodbye,
Dolly, I must leave you’, and by the time the audience had finished
singing the chorus he had rolled on another scene, which depicted a
dreadful storm at sea, with a large ship evidently on the point of
foundering. The waves were running mountains high and the inky clouds
were riven by forked lightning. To increase the terrifying effect,
Bert rattled the tea tray and played `The Bay of Biscay’, and the
children sung the chorus whilst he rolled the next picture into view.
This scene showed the streets of a large city; mounted police with
drawn swords were dispersing a crowd: several men had been ridden down
and were being trampled under the hoofs of the horses, and a number of
others were bleeding profusely from wounds on the head and face.
`After a rather stormy passage we arrives safely at the beautiful city
of Berlin, in Germany, just in time to see a procession of unemployed
workmen being charged by the military police. This picture is
hintitled “Tariff Reform means Work for All”.’
As an appropriate musical selection Bert played the tune of a
well-known song, and the children sang the words:
`To be there! to be there!
Oh, I knew what it was to be there!
And when they tore me clothes,
Blacked me eyes and broke me nose,
Then I knew what it was to be there!’
During the singing Bert turned the handles backwards and again brought
on the picture of the storm at sea.
`As we don’t want to get knocked on the ‘ed, we clears out of Berlin
as soon as we can – whiles we’re safe – and once more embarks on our
gallint ship’ and after a few more turns of the ‘andle we finds
ourselves back once more in Merry Hingland, where we see the inside of
a blacksmith’s shop with a lot of half-starved women making iron
chains. They work seventy hours a week for seven shillings. Our next
scene is hintitled “The Hook and Eye Carders”. ‘Ere we see the inside
of a room in Slumtown, with a mother and three children and the old
grandmother sewin’ hooks and eyes on cards to be sold in drapers’
shops. It ses underneath the pitcher that 384 hooks and 384 eyes has
to be joined together and sewed on cards for one penny.’
While this picture was being rolled away the band played and the
children sang with great enthusiasm:
`Rule, Brittania, Brittania rules the waves!
Britons, never, never, never shall be slaves!’
`Our next picture is called “An Englishman’s Home”. ‘Ere we see the
inside of another room in Slumtown, with the father and mother and
four children sitting down to dinner – bread and drippin’ and tea. It
ses underneath the pitcher that there’s Thirteen millions of people in
England always on the verge of starvation. These people that you see
in the pitcher might be able to get a better dinner than this if it
wasn’t that most of the money wot the bloke earns ‘as to pay the rent.
Again we turns the ‘andle and presently we comes to another very
beautiful scene – “Early Morning in Trafalgar Square”. ‘Ere we see a
lot of Englishmen who have been sleepin’ out all night because they
ain’t got no ‘omes to go to.’
As a suitable selection for this picture, Bert played the tune of a
music-hall song, the words of which were familiar to all the
youngsters, who sang at the top of their voices:
`I live in Trafalgar Square,
With four lions to guard me,
Pictures and statues all over the place,
Lord Nelson staring me straight in the face,
Of course it’s rather draughty,
But still I’m sure you’ll agree,
If it’s good enough for Lord Nelson,
It’s quite good enough for me.’
`Next we ‘ave a view of the dining-hall at the Topside Hotel in
London, where we see the tables set for a millionaires’ banquet. The
forks and spoons is made of solid gold and the plates is made of
silver. The flowers that you see on the tables and ‘angin’ down from
the ceilin’ and on the walls is worth £2,000 and it cost the bloke wot
give the supper over £30,000 for this one beano. A few more turns of
the ‘andle shows us another glorious banquet – the King of Rhineland
being entertained by the people of England. Next we finds ourselves
looking on at the Lord Mayor’s supper at the Mansion House. All the
fat men that you see sittin’ at the tables is Liberal and Tory Members
of Parlimint. After this we ‘ave a very beautiful pitcher hintitled
“Four footed Haristocrats”. ‘Ere you see Lady Slumrent’s pet dogs
sittin’ up on chairs at their dinner table with white linen napkins
tied round their necks, eatin’ orf silver plates like human people and
being waited on by real live waiters in hevening dress. Lady Slumrent
is very fond of her pretty pets and she does not allow them to be fed
on anything but the very best food; they gets chicken, rump steak,
mutton chops, rice pudding, jelly and custard.’
`I wished I was a pet dog, don’t you?’ remarked Tommy Newman to
Charley Linden.
`Not arf!’ replied Charley.
`Here we see another unemployed procession,’ continued Bert as he
rolled another picture into sight; `2,000 able-bodied men who are not
allowed to work. Next we see the hinterior of a Hindustrial ‘Ome -
Blind children and cripples working for their living. Our next scene
is called “Cheap Labour”. ‘Ere we see a lot of small boys about
twelve and thirteen years old bein’ served out with their Labour
Stifficats, which gives ‘em the right to go to work and earn money to
help their unemployed fathers to pay the slum rent.
`Once more we turns the ‘andle and brings on one of our finest scenes.
This lovely pitcher is hintitled “The Hangel of Charity”, and shows us
the beautiful Lady Slumrent seated at the table in a cosy corner of
‘er charmin’ boodore, writin’ out a little cheque for the relief of
the poor of Slumtown.
`Our next scene is called “The Rival Candidates, or, a Scene during
the General Election”. On the left you will observe, standin’ up in a
motor car, a swell bloke with a eyeglass stuck in one eye, and a
overcoat with a big fur collar and cuffs, addressing the crowd: this
is the Honourable Augustus Slumrent, the Conservative candidate. On
the other side of the road we see another motor car and another swell
bloke with a round pane of glass in one eye and a overcoat with a big
fur collar and cuffs, standing up in the car and addressin’ the crowd.
This is Mr Mandriver, the Liberal candidate. The crowds of shabby-
lookin’ chaps standin’ round the motor cars wavin’ their ‘ats and
cheerin’ is workin’ men. Both the candidates is tellin’ ‘em the same
old story, and each of ‘em is askin’ the workin’ men to elect ‘im to
Parlimint, and promisin’ to do something or other to make things
better for the lower horders.’
As an appropriate selection to go with this picture, Bert played the
tune of a popular song, the words being well known to the children,
who sang enthusiastically, clapping their hands and stamping their
feet on the floor in time with the music:
`We’ve both been there before,
Many a time, many a time!
We’ve both been there before,
Many a time!
Where many a gallon of beer has gone.
To colour his nose and mine,
We’ve both been there before,
Many a time, many a time!’
At the conclusion of the singing, Bert turned another picture into
view.
`’Ere we ‘ave another election scene. At each side we see the two
candidates the same as in the last pitcher. In the middle of the road
we see a man lying on the ground, covered with blood, with a lot of
Liberal and Tory working men kickin’ ‘im, jumpin’ on ‘im, and stampin’
on ‘is face with their ‘obnailed boots. The bloke on the ground is a
Socialist, and the reason why they’re kickin’ ‘is face in is because
‘e said that the only difference between Slumrent and Mandriver was
that they was both alike.’
While the audience were admiring this picture, Bert played another
well-known tune, and the children sang the words:
`Two lovely black eyes,
Oh what a surprise!
Only for telling a man he was wrong,
Two lovely black eyes.’
Bert continued to turn the handles of the rollers and a long
succession of pictures passed across the stage, to the delight of the
children, who cheered and sang as occasion demanded, but the most
enthusiastic outburst of all greeted the appearance of the final
picture, which was a portrait of the King. Directly the children saw
it – without waiting for the band – they gave three cheers and began
to sing the chorus of the National Anthem.
A round of applause for Bert concluded the Pandorama performance; the
lamp and the candles of the Christmas tree were relit – for although
all the toys had been taken off, the tree still made a fine show with
the shining glass ornaments – and then they had some more games; blind
man’s buff, a tug-of-war – in which Philpot was defeated with great
laughter – and a lot of other games. And when they were tired of
these, each child `said a piece’ or sung a song, learnt specially for
the occasion. The only one who had not come prepared in this respect
was little Rosie, and even she – so as to be the same as the others -
insisted on reciting the only piece she knew. Kneeling on the
hearthrug, she put her hands together, palm to palm, and shutting her
eyes very tightly she repeated the verse she always said every night
before going to bed:
`Gentle Jesus, meek and mild,
Look on me, a little child.
Pity my simplicity,
Suffer me to come to Thee.’
Then she stood up and kissed everyone in turn, and Philpot crossed
over and began looking out of the window, and coughed, and blew his
nose, because a nut that he had been eating had gone down the wrong
way.
Most of them were by this time quite tired out, so after some supper
the party broke up. Although they were nearly all very sleepy, none
of them were very willing to go, but they were consoled by the thought
of another entertainment to which they were going later on in the
week – the Band of Hope Tea and Prize Distribution at the Shining
Light Chapel.
Bert undertook to see Elsie and Charley safely home, and Philpot
volunteered to accompany Nellie and Tommy Newman, and to carry Rosie,
who was so tired that she fell asleep on his shoulder before they left
the house.
As they were going down the stairs Frankie held a hurried consultation
with his mother, with the result that he was able to shout after them
an invitation to come again next Christmas.
