Quite a Show
The great and good of London crowded into the Royal Institution. They were there to hear the surprising discoveries of Cecil Thornfalcon returned from Africa - the 'dark continent'.
Dressed in frock coats and velvet gowns, our Victorians settled on the lecture room’s hard benches. Fanning themselves, others wore floral prints and linen suits. One gallant sported a striped blazer that set his boater hat off rather well.
The explorer’s talk got underway accompanied by slides of the Great Rift Valley. But his lecture was less interesting than his listeners had hoped. The audience’s attention suddenly became riveted to the screen. The magic lantern was inexplicably displaying a silent moving picture.
This novel sight fascinated at first but they then cried out in utter horror. For it was showing a horse-drawn carriage drawing up at the Royal Opera House. A gentleman, complete with topper, opened the door for a young woman. At that, a passing youth tried to grab her bag. Despite his evening attire, the man took a swing at the thief who stabbed him for his efforts. He sank down with the girl cradling him in her arms.
Then the projector returned to its duties by displaying a static image of a yellowish orchard.
However, within minutes, the worthy Dr. Thornfalcon gave up the unequal struggle. He he sat dejected as the crowd mobbed the offending magic lantern. Its now flustered operator, and with his stiff collar having jumped its stud, was at a loss to explain the whole episode.
One hour later, Lord Bassingbourne alighted from his Landau to help his niece out. They were looking forward to Covent Garden’s new production of Mr. Verdi’s Aida. They would not see it. Since a street thief attempted to mug the young woman. Bassingbourne, an Oxford University boxing Blue, lashed out only for a thin knife to slide between his ribs before darkness fell over his eyes.
The newspapers were full of this supernatural mystery. Yet, those headlines did not appear the next day but on a Wednesday in the 21st Century.
