“Scissors, for the love of Allah!” “‘And soon I heard the roll of drums! And saw the bobbing plumes in the jangling browbands of the horses: it was a moment I shall never forget. She passed ... and as our Future Sovereign turned smiling to bow her acknowledgments to the crowd, I saw a happy tear...!’” “Ah Allah.” “Pass me two purple pinks.” “‘Visibly gratified at the cordial ovation to her Virgin Daughter was Queen Glory, a striking and impressive figure, all a-glitter in a splendid dark dress of nacre and nigger tissue, her many Orders of Merit almost bearing her down.’” “Thy scissors, O Sidi, for the love of Muhammed?” “‘It seemed as if Kairoulla had gone wild with joy. Led by the first Life-Guards and a corps of ladies of great fashion disguised as peasants, the cortège proceeded amid the whole-hearted plaudits of the people towards Constitutional Square, where, with the sweetest of smiles and thanks the princess received an exquisite sheaf of Deflas (they are the hybrids of slipper-orchids crossed with maidens-rue, and are all the mode at present), tendered her by little Paula Exelmans, the Lord Mayor’s tiny daughter. Driving on, amid showers of confetti, the procession passed up the Chausée, which presented a scene of rare animation; boys, and even quite elderly dames swarming up the trees to obtain a better view of their new Princess. But it was not until Lilianthal Street and the Cathedral Square were reached, that the climax reached its height! Here, a short standstill was called, and after an appropriate address from the Archbishop of Pisuerga, the stirring strains of the National Anthem, superbly rendered by Madame Marguerite Astorra of the State Theatre (she is in perfect voice this season), arose on the air. At that moment a black cat and its kitties rushed across the road, and I saw the Princess smile.’” “Thy scissors, O Sidi, in the Name of the Prophet!” “‘A touching incident,’” Sidi with equanimity pursued, “‘was just before the English Tea Rooms, where the English Colony had mustered together in force....’” But alack for those interested. Owing to the clamour about him much of the recital was lost: “‘Cheers and tears.... ... Life’s benison.... Honiton lace.... If I live to be _forty_, it was a moment I shall never forget.... Panic ... congestion.... Police.’”