How richly the Right Honourable the Lord Mayor of London enjoyed himself on that occasion, like the large-hearted man he is, and how pre-eminently happy he was among the waifs and strays, many of whom were cripples, whose lives he has done so much to brighten! Sir John Kirk, of the Ragged School Union, was also there, beaming with joy among his little beneficiaries. I remember Sir William Treloar pointing to his civic headgear and calling out to the children, “How do you like my Dick Turpin hat?” Tea-tables were laid all among the figures, and the picture produced in this way was both striking and amusing as the young people laughed and chatted by the side of the approving mutes. Perhaps the remark which seemed to create the greatest fun was when the Lord Mayor said he would like to see his Sheriffs in the Chamber of Horrors. It was very touching to observe the boys loyally and reverently take off their caps in front of the little alcove in which Queen Victoria sits, as someone has said, “signing despatches all day long.” At the close of the happy day the halls and corridors of the Exhibition rang with the shrill treble of fifteen hundred young voices singing “For he’s a jolly good fellow,” followed by “Hip hip, hooray; the donkey’s run away.” A tragedy happened that day not far away, in Westbourne Grove, which caused the gentlemen of the Press who attended the function to leave the Exhibition rather hurriedly. News came of the murder of Mr. William Whiteley, the Universal Provider. CHAPTER XLI A miscellany of humour--Our policeman--The mysterious lantern--The danger of old Catalogues--Stories of children--Sir Ernest Shackleton’s model. Many of our visitors will remember the model of the policeman which stands at the entrance to the main gallery in the Exhibition. Hundreds--I might say thousands--of visitors have been “taken in” by this lifelike officer, who is the embodiment of a genial bobby prepared at any moment to show the way or tell the time. The fame of this nameless policeman has extended to practically all the grown-ups who bring their children to see the figures, and many times in the day we see laughing parents watching the nonplussed expression on the faces of their offspring whom they have prevailed upon to go and ask where a certain model is to be found. Immediately opposite is the figure of the programme-seller in somnolent mood, who is frequently offered sixpence for a Catalogue she cannot sell. It is the would-be customer that is sold. It is most amusing to observe how many adults are deceived who seem to pride themselves on their discernment. For example, on Bank Holidays it is customary to have a number of real live constables on duty to regulate the crowd and give directions.