_A crowd is staring stolidly at the gorgeously gilded and painted entrance, with an affectation of superior wisdom to that of the weaker-minded, who sneak apologetically up the steps from time to time. A tall-hatted orchestra have just finished a tune, and hung their brazen instruments up like joints on the hooks above them._ _A Woman carrying an infant (to her husband)._ Will 'ee goo in, JOE? _Joe (who is secretly burning to see the Show)._ Naw. Sin it arl afoor arfen enough. Th' outside's th' best on it, I reckon. _His Wife (disappointed)._ Saw 'tis, and naw charge for lookin' at 'en neither. _The Proprietor._ Ladies and Gentlemen, Re-membar! This is positively the last opportunity of witnessing DENMAN'S Celebrated Menagerie--the largest in the known world! The Lecturer is now describing the animals, after which Mlle. CRAVACHE and ZAMBANGO, the famous African Lion-tamers, will go through their daring feats with forest-bred lions, tigers, bears, and hyenas, for the last time in this town. Re-membar--the last performance this evening! _Joe (to his Wife)._ If ye'd like to hev a look at 'em, I wun't say nay to et. _His Wife._ I dunno as I care partickler 'bout which way 'tis. _Joe (annoyed)._ Bide where 'ee be then. _His Wife._ Theer's th' child, JOE, to be sure. _Joe._ Well we baint a gooin' in, and so th' child want come to no 'arm, and theer's a hend on it! _His Wife._ Nay, she'd lay in my arms as quiet as quiet. I wur on'y thinkin, JOE, as it 'ud be somethin' to tell her when she wur a big gell, as her daddy took her to see th' wild beasties afoor iver she could tark--that's arl I wur meanin', JOE. And they'll let 'er goo in free, too. _Joe._ Aye, that'll be fine tellin's fur 'er, sure 'nough. Come arn, Missus, we'll tek th' babby in--happen she'll niver git th' chance again. [_They mount the steps eagerly._ INSIDE. _Joe's Wife (with a vague sense of being defrauded)._ I thart theer'd ha' bin moor smell, wi' so many on 'em! _Joe._ They doan't git naw toime for it, I reckon, allus on the rord as they be. _The Lecturer._ Illow me to request yar kind hattention for a moment. (Stand back there, you boys, and don't beyave in such a silly manner!) We har now arrived at the Haswail, or Sloth Bear, described by BUFFON as 'aving 'abits which make it a burden to itself. (_Severely._) The Haswail. In the hajoinin' cage observe the Loocorricks, the hony hanimal to oom fear is habsolootly hunknown. When hattacked by the Lion, he places his 'ed between his fore-legs, and in that position awaits the honset of his would-be destroyer. _Joe's Wife._ I thart it wur th' _hostridge_ as hacted that away. _Joe._ Ostridges ain't gotten they long twisted harns as iver I heard on. _His Wife (stopping before another den)._ Oh, my blessed! 'Ere be a queer lookin' critter, do 'ee look at 'en, JOE. What'll he be now? _Joe._ How do 'ee suppose as I be gooin' to tell 'ee the name of 'en? He'll likely be a sart of a 'arse. [_Dubiously._