reigned.

When it was time for the session to begin, he went with them to the
reporters' gallery, which in a short time was crowded. Almost all the
faces to be seen there were young, and such a babel of voices and
disorder constantly prevailed there that it was difficult to hear.

In vain the ushers, with a familiarity that anywhere else would have
been called insolence, warned and even threatened them; the reporters
paid no attention to their menaces, and when they deigned to listen, it
was merely to reply with some bloodthirsty witticism: if the usher at
last became really angry, there was sure to be some one who would take
the wind out of his sails by throwing his arms around his neck, and
promising him promotion "as soon as he came to be minister."

Some amused themselves by sharpening pencils; others, by cutting up
paper into pads; others drew out from between vest and shirt enormous
writing-tablets: one would think that it was an orchestra beginning to
tune up. Settling themselves into absurd attitudes, they all talked,
shouted, laughed, fired repartees at each other, and made witty remarks
about the deputies who were now coming into the large and elegant
_salon_, and casting sheep's-eyes at them, or rather the eyes of dying
lambs asking mercy. As a general thing, these were the rural members.
Those who lived in Madrid always had some acquaintances among the
journalists, and to these they made signs and winks from below, and
sometimes sent caramels, to which the reporters would respond with
rhymed notes.

"Look here, my dear; do you know what uniform the sub-governors are
going to wear?"

"The sub-governors won't have anything else than a sub-uniform," replied
a sufficiently ill-favored reporter named Inza. This same Inza, who was
in one corner arranging his pad, shortly after remarked:--

"Ah, here comes Alonso Ramirez enveloped in the skins of his clients."

The famous lawyer just at that moment came in, wearing a magnificent
overcoat trimmed with fur.

This jest has since that time been credited to a politician by his
friends, and they would be quite capable of claiming that he wrote the
Holy Bible, if they felt like it.

Keen sallies passed from one to another in loud tones, and caused hearty
laughter, and stimulated the victim to sharpen his wits so as to reply
with some other joke still more piquante. Much talent and still more
jollity were wasted in that incommodious gallery.

"Do you know, Juan