and fine linen,” he re-appeared in the hall, marched to the front door, and looked around him with turgent vanity of a pompous turkey-cock. He even commenced to hum a monologue, and if he had any familiar knowledge of the Lay literature of Ancient Rome, he might have been accused of trying to traverse Macaulay, for the jingle, if not the words, of his tune seemed to run in something of the following strain:—
Chief Constable, give warning;
Policemen clear the way;
The Mayor will stride, in all his pride,
Through Collins Street to-day.
But though he had never heard of such a place in all the world as Lake Regillus, or the gallant Knights returning therefrom, he was prouder and more "bumptiously" exalted at this momentous instant of his life than any Knight or Cavalier that ever rode to or from a battle-field. The procession was at length formed in the following order:—
Hooson, as pioneer, armed with his banneret.
The Town Band.
Thirty Freemason Burgesses (two deep).
Three Masonic Banners of the Lodge of "Australia Felix."
Masonic Members in regalia of the Craft.
Town Councillors, two and two, with right and left arms interlocked.
Aldermen, ditto, ditto.
The Mayor.
The Chief-Constable and Police.
Men, Women, Children, and dogs promiscuously.
The most amusing feature of this burlesque was that the Mayor appeared in his place bare-headed — why, I could never understand, unless that he was resolved that nothing should come between the "wind and his nobility," and, consequently, as the converse of John De Courcy and King John, marched "unhatted" to the Supreme Court, the band hammering away with "See the Conquering Hero comes." The movement progressed without interruption until near William Street, when the ensign-bearer, who was some yards in advance, made his appearance. A man was driving a bullock past St. James’ Church, on his way to the slaughter-houses, and the animal’s eye caught the mad fluttering of Hooson’s ruddy streamer. Hooson looked round, became alarmed, and executed a figure of serpentine posturing which would have done credit to a bandelero in a Spanish bull-fight. Now, a man waving a red flag as a danger-signal on a railway line may, perchance, succeed in stopping a coming train, but to shunt a half-wild bull by whirling a red rag in the air, is about the very last thing likely to succeed. The bullock at length made a plunge towards the standard-bearer, who ran for his life, followed by his pursuer. The runaway howled nearly as loud as the quadruped bellowed, and an only, though not a pleasant, chance of safety offered for Hooson. There was then at the junction of William and Little Flinders Streets, near the Custom House Reserve, a chasm nearly brimful thick slush, and into this the future "Street-keeper" plunged head foremost, carrying his banner with him, and burying himself all but his head in the muck, came to grief in a slimy, instead of a gory, bed, with the red drapery as a martial cloak around him. The bullock did not follow him, but with a parting snort of contempt at the almost invisible signifer, started away in the direction of the Yarra Falls, Hooson was speedily extricated from his unenviable condition, and at the neighbouring tavern, it did not take long make "Richard himself again." After all, the Hooson episode was was only an unwitting revival of the most comical incident of the old Lord Mayor's Show in London, for at the banquet that followed, the "Lord Mayor's fool" annually leapt into a large custard (certainly a more palatable batter than the one into which Hooson compulsorily dived), for the dlectation of all present; but then times and circumstances were different, and the Hooson feat was performed at the Antipodes.
Meanwhile, the Civic display had gone its way as if nothing had happened, and in due course arrived at the Court-house, corner of King and Bourke Streets, when further progress was impeded by the immense miscellaneous crowd. Mt Deputy-Sheriff M'Kenzie, a diminutive Scotchman, with a shrill, squeaky voice, appeared in the doorway and commanded a track to be cleared; but as he had no javelinmen at his elbow, and the few police were wedged awat at the back, his ordering was as a puff of wind.
