to see who is inside. I have been
stopped by them goodness knows how many times this day. They hold up the
car, look inside, apologise, and explain good-naturedly that they are
obliged to bother me, asking who I am, and after I have satisfied them
with papers that any well-equipped spy would be ashamed of, they let me
go on with more apologies. They rejoice in a traditional uniform topped
off by a derby hat with kangaroo feathers on it. This is anything but
martial in appearance and seems to affect their funny bone as it does
mine.

* * * * *

_August 5th._--Yesterday morning we got about early and made for the
Chamber of Deputies to hear the King's speech. The Minister and I walked
over together and met a few straggling colleagues headed in the same
direction. Most of them had got there ahead of us, and the galleries
were all jammed. The Rue Royale, from the Palace around the park to the
Parliament building, was packed with people, held in check by the Garde
Civique. There was a buzz as of a thousand bees and every face was
ablaze--the look of a people who have been trampled on for hundreds of
years and have not learned to submit. The Garde Civique had two bands in
front of the Senate, and they tried to play the Brabanconne in unison.
Neither of them could play the air in tune, and they were about a bar
apart all the time. They played it through and then began to play it
over again without a pause between. They blew and pounded steadily for
nearly half an hour, and the more they played, the more enthusiastic the
crowds became.

When I saw how crowded the galleries were I thought I would not push, so
resigned myself to missing the speech and went out onto a balcony with
Webber, of the British Legation, to see the arrival of the King and
Queen. We had the balcony to ourselves, as everybody else was inside
fighting for a place in the galleries to hear the speech.

When the King and Queen finally left the Palace we knew it from a roar
of cheering that came surging across the Park. The little procession
came along at a smart trot, and although it was hidden from us by the
trees we could follow its progress by the steadily advancing roaring of
the mob. When they turned from the Rue Royale into the Rue de la Loi,
the crowd in front of the Parliament buildings took up the cheering in a
way to make the windows rattle.

First came the staff of the King and members of his ho