(A Reminiscence of the Opening of the Imperial Institute.)
Scene—The Hyde Park South Road, opposite the Cavalry Barracks.
Closely-packed ranks of Sightseers have formed in front of the long line of unharnessed carriages under the trees. Outside this line the feebler folk, who invariably come on such occasions, and never find the courage to trust themselves in the crowd, are wistfully wandering, in the hope of procuring a place by some miraculous interposition.
Lament of Feeble Females. I told you how it would be—not the slightest use staying here!... I can't see anything except a lamp-post and the top of a soldier's bearskin!... We might just as well have stopped at home! (Viciously.) Where all the people come from, I don't know! I'm sure we were here early enough!
Comments by Feeble Males. No—not much to be seen where we are, certainly, but—um—I don't know that we're likely to do better anywhere else.... Not the least good attempting to get in there. Well, we can try lower down, of course, but it'll be just the same. They ought to arrange these things better!
[They drift on discontentedly.
The Self-Helper (squeezing between the wheels, and elbowing himself past the people who have been standing patiently there for hours).
By your leave—'ere, just allow me to pass, please. Thenk you. One moment, Mum. "No right to push in 'ere," 'aven't I? I've as much right as what you 'ave. Think the ole Park b'longs to you, I suppose? You orter 'ave a space roped in a-purpose for you, you ought! Tork about selfishness!
[He arrives triumphantly in the foremost row, and obtains the tolerance, if not the sympathy, of all who are not near enough to be inconvenienced by his presence.
Contented People in the Crowd.
Oh, we shall do well enough 'ere. They'll put their sunshades down when the Queen passes ... I can ketch a view between the 'eads like. And you don't get the sun under the trees ... Sha'n't have much longer to wait now. She'll be starting in another arf hour—(&c., &c.)