Another Show! A splendid Imperial Show! Magnificent weather! Real
QUEEN'S weather, and consequently a big success. The grandeur, the
solidarity of the British Empire--[&c., &c. *.* _Editor regrets
that for lack of space he is compelled to omit the remainder of this
remarkably fine panegyric. He suggests to Author that it would come
out well in pamphlet form, price one shilling, or it might be given
away with a pound of Indian tea._--ED.] Obedient to the call of duty I
was myself present as one of the 'umblest of the distinguished guests
assembled to welcome Her Imperial MAJESTY on this auspicious occasion.
It was my good fortune to be immediately in front of a charming Young
Lady and her delightful Grandmother. The latter was a trifle deaf, and
her Granddaughter being a wonderfully well-informed young lady, I had
quite an enjoyable time of it; as had also my neighbours, though I
regret to say that some of them after the first three-quarters of an
hour seemed rather to resent the gratuitous information given with
astonishing volubility by the amiable Young Lady to her confiding
relative. For example, up came his Grace the Archbishop of CANTERBURY.
"That's the LORD CHANCELLOR," our well-informed Young Lady told her
Grandmother. Much cheering greets Lord SALISBURY. "That's General
ROBERTS," said the Young Lady, adding, as if rather doubting her own
accuracy, "though why he wears a naval uniform I am unable to say."
It didn't matter; her Grandmother was equally pleased. "Which is Mr.
GLADSTONE?" asked the Old Lady. The Young Lady used her opera-glass.
"I don't see him," she returned slowly. "Of course he can't be in
a turban. I know he has no whiskers or moustache--ah! there he
is!--there, talking to Sir EDWARD LEIGHTON!" She hadn't got even the
Christian names correct. I looked in the direction she had indicated
and saw Sir WILLIAM HARCOURT in close proximity to Sir RICHARD TEMPLE.
But why should I turn and dispel the harmless illusion? Was it for me
to bring discord into a family, and cause the Granddaughter to be cut
out of the Grandmother's will? Never! So, "from information received,"
the Old Lady went on implicitly believing in her informant,
and treasuring up the particulars for the benefit of her other
Grandchildren. "Lord ROBERTS is somewhere here," observed the Young
Lady, sweeping the horizon (so to speak, with apologies to "the
horizon") with her _lorgnette_. "Oh, I should like to see _him_!"
exclaimed the Old Lady, enthusiastically. "Where is he?" "Oh,
I think--" replied the Granddaughter, hesitatingly, "I rather--think
--I've only seen him once--but--oh yes," she added, with wonderful
confidence on finding she was commanding an interested audience of
simple neighbours--"Oh yes--there--in a General's uniform,--he has
just come in--and he is looking for his place,"--and, following
guidance, I, too, craned forward, and was rewarded by catching a
glimpse of Mr. FREDERICK GORDON, Chairman of the Grand Hotels Co.,
Limited, who was good enough to salute me with that air of conscious
power which becomes part and parcel of a man who has the command of
countless battalions in waiting. Encouraged by this incident (for I
had not rounded on her and said, "that is _not_ Lord ROBERTS") the
Young Lady urged on her mistaken career more wildly than ever. She
pointed out the wrong Princess MAY, the Duke of FIFE became H.R.H.
the Duke of YORK, the TECKS were the MECKLENBURG-STRELITZES, the
Gentlemen-at-Arms were dismounted Chelsea Pensioners in Court dress;
the Chinese ladies were Japanese (for they couldn't get even these
correct,--and of course these Orientals are most correct), and
finally, looking up to the gallery where the Orchestra was, she
crowned the edifice by loudly announcing that Sir ARTHUR SULLIVAN was
Sir ARTHUR BALFOUR, and added that he was only performing his official
duty as Leader of the House of Commons. "Then," asked the simple Old
Lady, "are the musicians all obliged to be Members of Parliament?" Her
Granddaughter was equal to the occasion, and answered unhesitatingly,
"Yes, dear, _all_."
* * * * *
[Illustration: "A Legal Conveyance."]
* * * * *
After this, what was the show! Everybody was somebody else. Only the
QUEEN and the PRINCE were beyond the power of error. She found them
out at once. She was enthusiastic about the distinctness of the
PRINCE's voice in reading the Address, and she bent forward so as
not to lose a syllable of the QUEEN's gracious reply. She explained
everything wrong. A few ladies looked at her, mutely beseeching some
respite for their ears; would she only give herself ten minutes' rest?
No--it was a great chance for the well-informed young woman, and she
made the most of it. Even the heat didn't affect her. Processions
might come, and processions might go, but like the babbling brook,
she could and would "go on for ever." I have forgotten to add that
she also knew how everyone arrived, and her Grandmother was much
interested at hearing how Her Majesty's Judges all came in an omnibus,
driven and conducted by eminent judicial functionaries.
A grand show, "Abely worked by our Secretary," says Sir
Early-Springs-and-SOMERS VINE, C.M.G., Assistant Secretary, and to
both of them great praise is due. Now, then, to adapt the title of
Lord LYTTON's novel, "_What will we do with it?_"