tly illuminated. If for any reason this last expedient
does not succeed, must we despair for this evening? We are on the
ground, and our engagements may not leave another so good opportunity. I
have alluded to the presence of policemen in the lobby. Do I dream, or
has it been whispered to me, that half a crown, opportunely and adroitly
invested, may be of substantial advantage to the waiting stranger? But
by all means insist on the Speaker's Gallery. The Strangers' Gallery is
less desirable for many reasons, and, being open to everybody who has a
member's order, is almost invariably crowded. At all events, it should
be reserved as a dernier resort. As an illustration of the kindly
feeling towards Americans, I may mention, parenthetically, that I have
known gentlemen admitted to the Speaker's Gallery on their simple
statement to the door-keeper that they were from the United States. On
one of these occasions, the official, a civil personage, but usually
grave to the verge of solemnity,--the very last man you would have
selected as capable of waggery,--assumed a comical counterfeit of
terror, and said,--"Bless me! we must be obliging to Americans, or who
knows what may come of it?"
It should be observed, however, that on a "field night" not one of
the modes of admission which I have described will be of any service.
Nothing will avail you then but a place on the Speaker's list, and even
in that case you must be promptly at your post, for "First come first
served" is the rule.
But we have lingered long enough in the Lobby. Let us take our places
in the Speaker's Gallery,--for the essayist has hardly less power than,
according to Sydney Smith, has the novelist, and a few strokes of the
pen shall show you what many have in vain longed to see.
Once there, our attention is instantly attracted by observing that
almost every member, who is not speaking, wears his hat. This, although
customary, is not compulsory. Parliamentary etiquette only insists
that a member while speaking, or moving from place to place, shall be
uncovered. The gallery opposite the one in which we are seated is for
the use of the reporters. That ornamental brass trellis in the rear
of the reporters, half concealing a party of ladies, is a curious
compromise between what is due to traditional Parliamentary regulations
and the courtesy to which the fair sex is entitled. This relaxation of
the old rules dates only from the erection of the new building.
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