The two men in the blue coats and drab trousers, who are walking up and down, smoking their pipes, are their husbands.

The party in the opposite box are a pretty fair specimen of the generality of the visitors.

These are the father and mother, and old grandmother: a young man and woman, and an individual addressed by the euphonious title of 'Uncle Bill,' who is evidently the wit of the party.

They have some half-dozen children with them, but it is scarcely necessary to notice the fact, for that is a matter of course here.

Every woman in 'the gardens,' who has been married for any length of time, must have had twins on two or three occasions; it is impossible to account for the extent of juvenile population in any other way.
Observe the inexpressible delight of the old grandmother, at Uncle Bill's splendid joke of 'tea for four: bread-and-butter for forty;' and the loud explosion of mirth which follows his wafering a paper 'pigtail' on the waiter's collar.