Laughing girls crowded forward, swung themselves on the running-board; one tossed flowers to the great man, another, bolder, threw her arms around Dr. Schwertfeger’s neck and kissed him on the cheek. The chauffeur, apparently familiar with his master’s reaction to such emotional outbursts, made the car give a lurch forward, so that the girls were suddenly thrown off backward. But they were not hurt, for a dozen arms stretched out to catch them as they fell. Within the Parliament Building, however, the vociferous enthusiasm of the street did not prevail; in its place was feverish excitement, too intense to be expressed aloud. The deputies,--not one of whom was missing,--the ministers and ushers went about in anxious silence; and even the overcrowded galleries made not the slightest noise. Only whispers issued from the press tables, where careless ease had always been the rule. And a definite territorial division had been made. The compact Jewish majority of the reporters had crowded its chairs together, while the representatives of the Christian-Socialist and German-Nationalist papers formed a group of their own. Formerly the Jewish and Christian newspapermen had mingled freely--in their profession they were not partisans, but only colleagues. Furthermore, since the Jewish journalists generally had more news, and were able to turn it to better account, their anti-Semitic brothers depended on them a good deal. Today, however, the Christians cast malevolent glances toward the Jews; and when little Karpeles of the _Weltpost_, who had just come in, greeted Dr. Wiesel of the _Wehr_ with a friendly “Good morning,” the latter turned his back without responding. Newspapermen continued to pour in; among them were representatives of the foreign press, just arrived in Vienna for this occasion. “Impossible to move,” growled Herglotz, of the Christian _Tag_, whereupon a bearded little fellow with a tremendous waistline, replied: “Only a few days more, then we’ll have plenty of room here!” Subdued coughs, laughter, and smiles on the one side, an exchange of significant glances on the other. A blond, pink-cheeked young man bowed slightly to the left and to the right. “I’m Holborn, of the _London Telegraph_. Got here just an hour ago, and don’t know where I am. Arrived in London day before yesterday after a six months’ stay in Sydney--and an hour later I was in the train again, on my way to Vienna. Our managing editor, the old fool, told me nothing, but only said: ‘Plenty of excitement in Vienna these days--they’re throwing out the Jews. Go there and cable me till the wires burn up!’ So it would be very kind of you, I’d be eternally grateful, if you’d tell me what it’s all about.” This speech had been delivered in so droll an Anglicized German that the tension was somewhat relieved. Gesticulating violently, Minkus of the _Tagesbote_ took hold of his English colleague and began: