(EXETER) HALL RIGHT.--It is reported on the highest authority that Prince GEORGE has been recently engaged in May Meetings, and has expressed himself as having been extremely charmed and interested. * * * * * MORE POWER TO MISS COBBE! "You say that you've a sovereign way To end the placard pest; Oh, Mistress COBBE, reveal it, pray, And give my spirit rest!" "You're very green, that may be seen," Th' aggressive dame did shout; "The way to kill a noxious Bill Is--just to throw it out. "Mid hills, in towns,--that's not so bad,-- And in the quiet lane, We let the advertising cad Tyrannically reign. "So in my walks I take a brush, Also a watering-can, And on the hideous foe I rush, And that's _my_ little plan! "Without compunction, without haste, Though passers-by may stare, I strip the paper from its paste, And leave the fragments there." "_That_ plan," I said, "I've never tried; It shows, no doubt, devotion; But is it legal?" She replied, "_I've not the slightest notion!_" * * * * * WAITING FOR THE PROCESSIONS. (_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._