their hansoms about the London streets.
Rules as to taking up and setting down
are as strict now as they were when this
notice was printed; but where is the
noble and genteel company who came in
coaches gorgeously painted and gilt, fit for
a lord mayor to ride in, and to whom this
advertisement was addressed? In those
days the proprietors were very great swells
too, for we find amongst them Sir Thomas
Robinson and Nicholas Kempe, Esq., a
justice of the peace. Fancy a justice of
the peace being proprietor of an evening
open-air entertainment of the present day!
How well a paragraph after the following
fashion would read in a programme of
amusements: Anthony Magister, Esq.,
justice of the peace and sole lessee of the
Syrenian Gardens, is delighted to inform
the numerous patrons of these beautiful
grounds that he has succeeded in securing
the services of Mademoiselle Cancanière
and her talented troupe of danseuses, &c.
Now, individually I have nothing whatever
to say against the institution of the ballet,
which, artistically and classically produced,
is a graceful and pleasurable feature in an
entertainment; neither am I by any means
straightlaced; but lightly-clad Mademoiselle
Cancanière and her impudent companions,
with their vulgar and shameless antics, I
must protest against.

But let me go back again to the class of
persons who now give their patronage to
our open-air resorts.

Though Lady Betty and the pure-minded
of her sex no longer patronise our gardens,
yet the Honourable Jack Hardcastles of
to-day, careless of the presence of Mr.
Cad, are tolerably regular in their attendance.
There can be no better place to
finish off with, after a heavy dinner at
the club, or an outing like that of the
Derby, than the Syrenian Gardens; and,
besides, the ladies who are to be met
with there are not likely to be scandalised
at a trifling incoherence of speech or a
somewhat freedom of manner. Such are
those, then, who have now made evening
open-air resorts their own, and it is mainly
to this class that managers look for
support. The amusements offered must be of
the spiciest description, or the palled senses
of the frequenters will fail to be
stimulated. I do not say that breaches of good
manners are willingly tolerated, but when
a mass of people are attracted together by
the vicious element which largely predominates,
good manners and decency are
generally found wanting.

Syrenia I assume to represent the most
fashionable of our West-end gardens, but
there are others, on a lower and more
limited scale, of which it will be necessary
to say something. These are to be found
in our northern and eastern suburbs,
and are mainly patronised by the smaller
clerkly classes of those regions, who affect
in a lesser degree the vices, and
endeavour to ape the manners, of the West-
end swell. The ladies are not
distinguished by the splendour of their dress,
though the fashions of Syrenia are to be
traced in many ways, and notably in the
towering tufted head-dress, in which horsehair
largely figures. These young damsels,
who are mostly very young indeed when
they commence their career of garden
dissipation, are largely recruited from the
milliner and woi'k-girl element, and I
should fancy the atmosphere in which they
spend their evening hours is not calculated
to strengthen their moral development.
Many of them have already forsaken the
paths of honest labour, and the greater
proportion are steadily marching down that
easy slope that leads to misery and ruin.
Here, as elsewhere, the unhealthy appetite
craves for a strong bill of fare, which, though
somewhat coarse in its concoction, is served
up with the strongest of seasoning.

These places of resort are supposed, in
their programme, to consult the taste of
their frequenters: if this be the case, then
I very much deplore the ethical condition
of the patrons. First and foremost comes
the lowest specimen of that monstrosity,
the music-hall singer, with his meaningless
rhymes, terminating in a "slap bang"
catching chorus, in which, on occasions, the
company will join. They have also their
lightly clad ballets of the can-can order,
and these are made infinitely more
objectionable by the vulgar contortions of the
wretched dancers whose movements are not
characterised by a particle of grace. A
slangy burlesque of more than average
imbecility may possibly be included in the
evening's entertainment, the whole winding
up with what is pretentiously styled
a "Grand Bal d'Eté." At this grand bal,
it is the custom of the cavalier to smoke a
very rank cigar, or a short pipe, over the
right shoulder of his partner. Sometimes
two gentlemen, probably nervous of their
fascinating powers with the fairer sex, will
take one the other by the waist and
shoulders, and caper and jump, and heave
and roll about, to the great danger of less
demonstrative couples.