102

May 17, 1887. THE BAT

DIANA'S DIARY.

MONDAY. -- Went Buffalo Billing at the American Exhibition. One could hardly mistake the nationality of the majoirity of the audience. The enormous headgear worn by the owmen would betray them as Yankees anywhere. One lady, doubtless hailing from the Far West, was costumed in grey alpaca trimmed with black passementerie, wore a big flop black straw hat, with a profusion of black ostrich plumes, and a most marvellously-arranged black tulle veil over her face. Americans have a marvellous knack of putting on a veil over these cumbersome hats, as French women have of wearing high-pointed bonnets, and fixing veils just to keep the wind from disarranging their fringes; Miss McGrigor looked neat in a light grey beige, embroidered in cross-stitch of grey wool, and she wore a most becoming brown bead and tulle bonnet; Mrs. Jopling, youthful and light, in grey and white; and Mrs. Conover, in black, with a drab plush mantle. We couldn't get any seats, and it was such weary workstanding, that we very soon left the "circus" and on our way to inspect the camp met with the American bar. Of course, Bob and Harry rushed up to sample corpse-revivers and such-like. Don't know what they had but they became vastly more agreeable afterwards. Bee and I contend ourselves with a lemon squash. It was quite excellent, and a slice of orange which they put into it seemed to soften the acid of the lemon. Then on to the camp, where, stopping for a moment before Miss Oakley's tent, we were most hospitably pressed to come in and sit down. She showed us the medals and trophies she had won, and also a darling little pistol of mother of pearl and silver; it only looked like a toy, but Miss Oakley implored me not to try and let it off at my dearest friend, if I didn't mind parting with him until the next world.

An overgrown circus sounds an awkward remark to make of the entertainment our American cousins are providing us with, but despite the fact of its being Jubiless providing us with, but despite the fact of its being Jubilee year, and that naturally we are loving every nation and everybody, and also despite Canon Farrar's prayer, Buffalo Bill's exhibition is neither more nor less than a hippodrome on an enormous scale. All the best of it we have seen before, either at Covent Garden or at Olympia. To commencewith Miss Lilian Smith. She shoots at glass balls, and as often as not misses them. Sometimes she hits them, and a roar of applause goes up from the Americans in the audience. But you can't expect English folk, even when primed with lunch and prayer, to sit solemnly gazing at a young woman smashing glass balls.