_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!_
* * * * *