I continually received little notes from the audience asking questions or offering to speak. One of them ran, “Please pass me down that beautiful hat.” Utterly amazed at such a thing, I read and re-read the sentence. I seemed to know the writing. I looked again, and found a little “Hy. F.” “Good heavens!” I thought. “Harry Furniss is here making caricatures of the proceedings.” Truly enough, the picture appeared in a paper the following week. One thing leads to another. At the Paris Exhibition of 1900 a Woman’s Section was inaugurated, and a few people were invited by the Minister of Commerce of the French Republic from England to go over and speak on different subjects. Accordingly to Paris I went, and for twelve minutes inflicted upon those poor, dear French people a speech which I read in French, entitled “L’Agriculture et les femmes en Grande Bretagne.” Since those days cultured women have energetically taken up dairying, chicken-rearing, and egg-collecting, to say nothing of many branches of horticulture in which they have proved themselves eminently successful. But while these international courtesies and gatherings were in process the tragedies of war were being enacted in South Africa, and deep anxiety and sorrow prevailed throughout the British Empire. Only a few weeks after the relief of Kimberley and Ladysmith Queen Victoria came to London for a couple of days. She had a splendid reception as she drove through the chief streets, a marvellous demonstration of unorganised loyalty. After our sad reverses early in the Transvaal War England went wild at the favourable turn of events, and London continued its jubilation during Her Majesty’s stay. The Queen visited the City—it was on March 8th, 1900—and, in accordance with the ancient custom, the Lord Mayor awaited Her Majesty’s arrival at the City boundaries. On this occasion the Embankment was the route taken by the Royal procession, and the Lord Mayor—Sir Alfred Newton—stood in the road by the Temple Gardens and presented the Queen with the City sword in its pearl scabbard, offering a welcome “on behalf of your ancient and most loyal City.” It was an impressive scene. The great City dignitary is privileged to wear an earl’s robe when receiving a crowned head, and he was surrounded by his Sheriffs, the City Marshal, the Sword-bearer, and the members of the Common Council. After taking the sword—which was presented to the Corporation by Queen Elizabeth—in both hands, Queen Victoria returned it to the Lord Mayor “for safe keeping,” adding in her beautiful voice and faultless diction, “My Lord Mayor, I wish to thank you for all the City has done.” This, of course, alluded to the formation of the City Imperial Volunteer Corps, which had started some weeks before for South Africa.