The Zoo Centenary Party
rr HE,,hyenas were :not laughing. There was no sound of mirth from woodpecker or.. mocking • bird, or sign of astonishment from any onlooker when the spot- lights illumined the .terraces where man ate and drank. The occupantx of the .Zoo were as . solemn , children over their .birthday_ .party, and showed no enthusiasm • over the ,red and hlue and golden lights that may have tot'alled the number a years of all. the .creatures. ,,In ,wooden. „enclosure specimens of ,hamo sapiens were dancing, rather sadly, in. couples, ,while others of their kind, some.in,lizFd and snake and orieh-siF.in shoes, some in - fur cloaks, some with tortoiseshell lorgnettes, watched them, and made the kind of remarks that may be heard in monkey houses. Not very far away, the bears were dancing, too, singly and with a rhythmical dignii.y. The bears may be considered to have won, since they could dance unsupported, without the help of an encompassing arm, and were not wearing the skins of other folks.
Really, though, it was the penguins' evening, partly because they had a band of their own, and partly because the men visitors had flattered them by copying their clothes. The band by the penguin enclosure was composed of other specimens of homo sapiens, and stood on the place where the chimpanzees used to have their tea-parties. The king penguins, in correct evening dress, white waistcoats, ties, and tail coats, waved eloquent flippers, and swayed sentimentally to selections from The Desert Song. Dapper little, ordinary penguins, in dinner jackets and black ties, ambled to the sides of their enclosure, and grumbled a little at the notice : "These birds must not be fed." No wonder they felt bitter : many of them had seen creatures, similarly dressed though not so well tailored, eating all sorts of things.
" No, those aren't water-hens ! " remarked a visitor, and the penguins swayed sadly on their webbed feet.
The sea-lions were the luckiest of all. The moon lit up their pond, and searchlights that may have reminded them of ships in northern waters played upon them as the keepers threw fish for them to catch. An astonished little rat peeped from his rock at the onlookers, as the sea-lions dived and rolled, turning the water to a tumble of sapphire and jade fringed with foam opal.S. The sea4ion thought it was lovely, but the lions in the carnivore house were not thrilled by the party. Two of them lay side by side in contemptuous slumber. They did not even trouble to turn their faces raway from light and audience. Why should they ? Sleep touches them kindly : they are not betrayed by it.
The tiger in the next-door cage yawned a little, but he is Zoo bred and his opinion does not count for so much.
The tiger could not rest. Once during the evening a visitor spoke to him in Hindustani, and he squatted on his haunches, listening to words he may have heard years ago on the hut-dotted outskirts of a jungle. When his friend passed on, he moved his head restlessly, hoping perhaps that the queer lights and familiar sound might prelude some miracle of freedom. After that he had no time to consider parties.
The monkeys in the house were all perfectly natural, and long before the end of the party climbed up as near the lights as possible and fell fast asleep in each other's arms. Their flamboyant cousins on Monkey Hill were More restless and not so affectionate : they seemed to wish for solitude, and looked with sad eyes at the people who laughed at them.
Had Porgy been staged after the party, one might have guessed that Mi. Cochran had visited the kangaroos for a lesson in shadow production. The cages were lit by the moon, and 'the beasts cast wavering, giant shadows as they hopped about. One of them, raising itself on its hind legs; flung backwards in a despairing attitude, as though to "say by gesture : " These confounded humans. Will they never leaYe us to our secret rites " Many other creatures showed indifference and con- 'tempt : the goats, lOoicing very lovely against the skyline, moved slowly about their, peaked mountains, and a wild sheep glanced with chilling eyes at the girls who passed him :. so might a Pan, have appraised unlikely nymphs. small: ring-tailed; 10W4?', flustered,1 . by the keeper's flashlight, peeped up from hiS bed, but seeing nothing more wonderful than a lady in evening furs, whisked his wife's tail over his pretty head, and fell asleep again.
It is difficult to know what they all thought of the party, but on the whole they behaved very like a crowd of children. Some were excited, some were bored, and some, particularly a wild-eyed kinkajou and a water tortoise, were a little inclined to show off. No, perhaps that is not quite fair to the tortoise, who was no child, and may. have been trying to entertain us. She swam violently about, and reminded some of us of a distracted hostess, who tries to make the evening a success. Nobody else helped : the other tortoises had their backs turned to the visitors : the visitors had their backs turned to the tortoises. It was very hot, everyone was very sleepy, but still the valiant tortoise swam and plunged and moved- its anxious head from side to side. Its a party you know !-" Splash ! " Everyone ought to enjoy a party." Splash. " Now do try to be bright ! " Splash. " It's rude to go to sleep. Listen to that nice music."
Actually the music was very inappropriate. The Desert Song may have been suitable for the camels, but Pop Goes the Weasel, A Frog He Would A-wooing Go, Three Blind Mice, and Will You Walk a Little Faster surely should not have been omitted from the programme.
On the whole, it was not unlike other parties in other places, Bloomsbury, for instance : there was the same crowding, the same staring, the same chatter, and, but for the bars, it might have been difficult to distinguish certain of the guests from their hosts. And, as at other parties, there was a feeling towards the end that some- thing specific should have happened, that there should have been some justification for it all—some terrific climax. A man should have been caged or some large animal given the freedom of the City of London.
As it was the end came quietly. After the band had played " God Save the King" we all moved slowly out of the Garden. There was no cherubim with flaming sword to remind us that we could never return again by night, but that thought was the actual finale, and some of us felt that after all the youngest tortoise may have won the day. He may turn his indifferent back on other guests in another hundred years.
B. E. TODD.
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