But, some silken-clad smoothers,
some purple parasites, some fawners in frippery, some greedy and
begartered ones in gorgeous garments, he does impeach--ay, and
wrathfully! Is it asked on what grounds? They shall be stated.
The Bleater's London Correspondent, in the prosecution of his
important inquiries, goes down to Windsor, sends in his card, has a
confidential interview with her Majesty and the illustrious Prince
Consort. For a time, the restraints of Royalty are thrown aside in
the cheerful conversation of the Bleater's London Correspondent, in
his fund of information, in his flow of anecdote, in the atmosphere
of his genius; her Majesty brightens, the illustrious Prince Consort
thaws, the cares of State and the conflicts of Party are forgotten,
lunch is proposed. Over that unassuming and domestic table, her
Majesty communicates to the Bleater's London Correspondent that it
is her intention to send his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales to
inspect the top of the Great Pyramid--thinking it likely to improve
his acquaintance with the views of the people. Her Majesty further
communicates that she has made up her royal mind (and that the
Prince Consort has made up his illustrious mind) to the bestowal of
the vacant Garter, let us say on Mr.
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