After looking about her for some minutes, hoping to see Mrs. Stanley appear from behind some of the caravans, Lizzie stepped up to the edge of the platform, and tried to make the girl understand that she wanted to speak to her, but the din of the steam roundabout, the crack, crack, bang, bang, of the rifles, and the grinding of an Italian organ just inside the wax-work exhibition itself, made this perfectly impossible, and all the notice the girl vouchsafed to her, was to call in a louder tone: