Mr. Smiley evidently represents a valorous knight--else why that dish-cover shield, that saucepan helmet, that long surcoat of nightshirt in the place of mail? The knight has armed himself further with sword and lance (sword of any period, lance a roasting-spit). Those warlike preparations must have been made in defence of that delicious girl leaning over the back of the ancient chair. Is she supposed to be a distressed damsel leaning from her prison-window and listening to Mr. Smiley's vows of liberating her or dying in the attempt? If so, where is the word that will express as much? Not in the brain of the stout old gentleman who is fast asleep amongst the audience, nor in that of the pretty little girl who sits in front of him apparently wondering why people should be "so silly." The lady who tries to hide a yawn with her fan has evidently "given it up," and the two lovely women near her are much in the same condition.
Now we come to the belle of the month of August, who is riding with her papa in Kensington Gardens. An attempt was made--later, I think, than the Exhibition year--to extend Rotten Row into Kensington Gardens, and thus deprive pedestrians--notably children and nursemaids--of their promenades amongst the trees. For some months the equestrian habitués of Rotten Row careered in the Gardens, to the terror and danger of children, and the disturbance of many groups of soldiers and nursemaids. This usurpation created very strong opposition.
I lived in the neighbourhood, and I accompanied a deputation to Sir Cornewall Lewis--then in power--with a view of impressing upon that Minister the desirability of rescinding the objectionable privilege which had been granted to the riders. We had some eloquent talkers, but their oratory seemed to me to make no impression upon Sir C. Lewis, who may have listened, but during the harangues he was always writing letters, and no sooner was one finished than he began another; and we left him without an intimation of our success or failure. But what is certain is, that within a week of our interview the equestrians disappeared--I hope for ever--from Kensington Gardens. Leech being a constant rider, both spoke and drew in favour of the new ride. Drawings may be found in the _Punch_ series in which he laughs at the opponents of the horses in the Gardens, and I remember his indignation when I told him of our deputation and its successful issue.