* * * * * SEEING THE ROYAL WEDDING PRESENTS. (_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!