(_A Sketch at the Imperial Institute_.)
SCENE--_The North Gallery on a Saturday afternoon, with the
thermometer at considerably over 80 deg. in the shade. The presents are
arranged behind a long barrier, in front of which the Spectators form
a double "queue," the outer rank facing in the opposite direction to
the inner line, and both moving at an average rate of one foot every
five minutes._
_The Attendants (spasmodically)._ Pass along there, please. Keep
moving!
[_The crowd close to the barrier either cannot or will not pay
the slightest attention to these injunctions, and remain placidly
gazing at whatever happens to be in front of them; the people in
the outside line, who can see just enough to tantalise them, begin
to exhibit signs of impatience._
_A Sour-looking Spinster._ Well, I'm sure! They _might_ remember
there's others that would like to have a look besides themselves!
Some of them seem to have made up their minds to spend the whole _day_
here! (_With a withering glance at a stout lady in the inner rank._)
How anyone can call herself a lady and spend fifteen minutes downright
gloating at nothing but cigarette cases--well, I should be sorry to be
so disobliging _myself_!
[_The stout lady, who has exhausted the cigarette cases long ago,
but can't move on until those in front of her have thoroughly
inspected the jewels, fans herself with a pocket-handkerchief,
and pretends not to have heard._
_A Cheery Old Lady (to her Grand-daughter)._ Well, they _do_ make you
wait, there's no denying--but we shall see everythink some time or
other. 'Ot, MINNIE? Yes, it _is_ 'ot, and they're pushing in front as
well as beyind, now; but lor, my dear, we must put up with sech things
when we come out like this. And you can ketch a glimpse in and between
like, as it is. I can see the top of a Grandfather's Clock. It won't
take us 'alf an hour now, at the rate we're going, to git round the
turn, and then we shall be next the barrier, and 'ave a little more
room. There, they're beginning to move a bit. (_The line advances
about a yard._) Now we're getting along beautiful!
_A Purple-faced Old Gentleman (in a perspiration)._ It's scandalous!
These people inside aren't _attempting_ to move along. (_To the inner
rank._) Will you kindly pass on, and give others a chance? _Do_
pass along there! (_The people in the inner row maintain a bland
unconsciousness, which is too much for his feelings._) D--n it! why
can't you pass along when you're asked to?
_The Usual Comic Cockney._ It's no good torkin' perlitely to 'em,
guv'nor; you touch some on 'em up with your umberella. Why, there's
two old ladies aside o' me that 'ave gone and 'ipnotised theirselves
starin' at silver kendlesticks!
_A Plaintive Female (to a smart young constable)._ Oh, Mr. Policeman,
_do_ make 'em 'urry up there!
[_The constable prudently declines to attempt the impossible, and
merely smiles with pitying superiority._
_Mrs. Lavender Salt (who has insisted on her husband escorting her)._
LAVENDER, what a frightful crush! I don't believe we've moved for the
last twenty minutes, and I'm nearly dead with the heat!
_Mr. L. S. (with irritating common sense)._ Well, MIMOSA, you don't
suppose _I'm_ enjoying myself? After all, if you don't like the crush,
the remedy's simple. You've only to step out of it into the grounds,
you know--there is some air _there_!
_Mrs. L. S._ What? and give up our places after going through so much?
No, LAVENDER, it would be too absurd to have to go away without seeing
the Royal Presents after all!
_Mr. L. S._ But is it worth all this pushing and squeezing? Why, you
can see much the same sort of thing any day in perfect comfort by
simply walking down Bond Street!
_Mrs. L. S._ You wouldn't say so if you had the least scrap of
imagination! It isn't the things themselves one comes to see--it's the
sentiment _attached_ to them!
_Mr. L. S._ Oh, is _that_ it? Well, I can make out the upper part of
a weighing machine over your shoulder, but I can't say I discover any
particular sentiment attached to _that_.
_Mrs. L. S. (impatiently)._ Oh, if you choose to sneer at _everything_,
of course you can, but it's looking at things like these that makes us
the loyal nation we are, LAVENDER!
_Mr. L. S._ My dear MIMOSA, I give you my solemn word that if I remain
opposite those Chippendale bookcases ten minutes longer I shall become
a gibbering anarchist! Surely we can be loyal without such a painful
resemblance to a box of dried figs.
[Mrs. L. S. _shudders at these revolutionary sentiments_.
_A New Comer (arriving with a friend, and craning curiously over the
shoulders of the spectators_ in posse, _to their intense indignation_).
'Ere they are, JOE. I can see a lot o' silver inkstands. We'll get a
view if we shove in 'ere.
[_He attempts to edge through the double rank._
_The Purple-faced Old Gentleman._ I protest against your pushing in
here, Sir. We're hot enough already without that. It's monstrously
unfair!
_The New Comer._ I s'pose I've got as much right to see the bloomin'
Presents as what _you_ 'ave?
_The P.-f. O. G._ You've no right to push in out of your turn, Sir.
You must take your proper place down at the end of the _queue_ and
wait, like everybody else.
_The New Comer._ What, all the way down there, and 'ow long might I
have to wait, now?
_The P.-f. O. G. (with tremendous dignity)._ That I can't say, Sir. I
can only tell you this--that I have been standing here myself for
over three-quarters of an hour without advancing ten yards or seeing
anything distinctly, and so have all these ladies and gentlemen.
_The New Comer._ Hor, hor, hor! D'jear that, JOE? Ten yards in
three-quarters of an hour! What price snails, eh? Well, Sir, if that's
_your_ ideer of amusin' yourself on a warm afternoon, it ain't mine,
so you'll excuse me and my friend 'ere joinin' your little percession.
Don't lose 'art, Sir, keep on at it. You'll _git_ there afore bedtime
if you don't overexert yourselves. Take it easy now!
[_They pass on with ribald laughter, to the general relief.
Eventually, after infinite delay and maddening exhortations to
"keep moving," the outer queue succeed to the barrier and to the
unpopularity enjoyed by their predecessors._