A QUESTION OF POLICE;
Or, What it may come to.
SCENE—Trafalgar Square just before sunset. Police in abundance; number of Processionists in various parts of the open space seen to be dispersing.
Police Inspector. Now, my good friends, I am going to be as polite as possible, but I must obey the regulations of the Commissioners of Her Majesty's Works and Public Buildings. And I say you cannot speak, because you have not given proper notice to the authorities.
First Orator. But I have—I tell you I wrote to the Commissioner four days ago.
Pol. In. Oh, did you? Then that of course alters the case. What are you, Sir?
First Or. I am the "Friends of the Horny Hands of Labour."
Pol. In. (after referring to note-book). Ah, I thought I was right. Your application came in second, Sir—the "Decayed Washerwomen" got in before you. Look here. (Pointing out regulation.) "Not more than one Meeting shall be allowed at the same time, and if notices of two or more Meetings are given for the same day, preference shall be given to that Meeting of which notice shall have been first received." So you see, Sir, you are not in it. Better luck next time. There is another Bank Holiday six months hence.
First Or. But the "Decayed Washerwomen" are not here, and I—
Pol. In. Very sorry. Sir, but you must move on. (First Orator disappears with grumbling followers.) I say, BILL, I do really think these regulations are working quite pleasantly.
Bill (a subordinate). Yes, Sir.
Second Orator. (entering hurriedly, accompanied by some aged females). Here, I say, where are we to make speeches?
Pol. In. (genially). Nowhere, unless you have the proper authority. Who may you be when you are at home?
Second Or. (fussily). Why, the "Decayed Washerwomen," to be sure. Now, look sharp, and find us a place to deliver speeches. You know you must do it, by order of the—
Pol. In. Yes, I know. Well, what do you say to the top of that lamp-post?
Second Or. Now, none of your chaff. Mind, you are the servants of the public, and—
Pol. In. Yes—but don't deliver a speech to me—I am not a "Decayed Washerwoman."
Chorus of Indignant Females. We should think not. It would be a good thing if you were!
Second Or. Now, look sharp. We have been longer coming than we expected. The cabs and omnibuses were so troublesome. Now, where shall I stand?
Pol. In. (considering). Well, I think you would be out of the way if you got up there, and spoke to them down below.
[Points out elevated position in front of the National Gallery.
Second Or. But they won't be able to see, much less to hear me!
Pol. In. Can't help that. The Commissioners of Her Majesty's Works and Public Buildings don't provide telescopes nor yet ear-trumpets.—Bill (saluting). Sunset, Sir!
Pol. In. There, you see! Thought you would be too late. Time's up. Glad to see you another day. But now—move on!
[And the Police Regulations are obeyed. Curtain.
THE GOOD OLD (SUNDAY) TIMES REVIVED.—The specimen number of The Sunday Times as it was at its commencement in 1822, given on Sunday, October 23rd, 1892, is most interesting. Theatrical advertising was quite "a feature" at that time, when only two Theatres, Drury Lane and Covent Garden, seem to have advertised. The names there are of EDMUND KEAN simply as Mr. KEAN, of Messrs. DOWTON, HARLEY, YOUNG, MUNDEN, Mrs. GLOVER, and of Madame VESTRIS as Ophelia. BRAHAM is there, as also LISTON and Miss STEPHENS. Prize Fights are done in the good old Tom-and-Jerry style, and the Police Reports are made so amusing as to suggest that such a light touch as is occasionally given in the "Day by Day" of the Daily Telegraph, might be nowadays welcome in (Police) Court News. Altogether, a happy thought to reproduce the Sunday Times of 1822, and may the Sunday Times of 1892 live up to it, and be "going strong" in 1992! Prosit!