Podb. (to Miss T.).  Do come and listen to him, most intelligent chap—­great fun.  Mr. CULCHARD is above that sort of thing, I dare say.

Guide. Your vriendts laike to choin, yais?  Same for tree as for von.  I exblain all de beecture.

Miss T. You’re vurry obliging, Mr. PODBURY, but your friend is explaining it all just splendidly.

Podb. (piqued).  Perhaps I had better dismiss my chap, and take on CULCHARD, too?

Miss T. No, I’d just hate to have you do that.  Keep on going round.  You mustn’t mind us, indeed!

Podb. Oh, if you’d rather! (Gloomily, to Guide.) They can do without us.  Just show me something more in the blood-and-thunder line—­no, at the other end of the room. [They withdraw.

Guide. Hier is von dat is vary amusant.  You know de schtory of de Tree Vishes, eh?

Podb. Macbeth, eh? oh, I see—­Wishes! No, what was that?

Guide.  I dell it you. (He tells it; PODBURY falls into gloomy abstraction.) ...  And inschdantly she vind a grade pig soasage at de end of her noase.  So de ole voman—­

Podb. (wearily).  Oh, I’ve heard all that.  What’s this one about?

Guide.  Dis is galled “De lasht Gannon.”  You see de vigure of Ceevilization flodderin op viz de vings, vile Brogress preaks asonder de lasht gon, and in a gorner a Genius purns de vrontier bost.

Podb. (captiously).  What’s he doing that for?

Guide.  I tont know.  I subbose begause dey are bosts, or (dubiously) begause he is a Genius.

Culch. (touching PODBURY’s arm as he goes out).  Oh—­er—­PODBURY, I’m off.  Going to lunch somewhere with the—­ah—­TROTTERS.  See you at table d’hote this evening, I suppose?  Good-bye.

Podb. (savagely).  Oh, ta-ta! (To himself.).  And that’s the fellow who said he wanted to keep out of making friends!  How the dickens am I going to get through the time by myself? (To Guide.) Here, that’s enough for one day.  When I want you again, I’ll let you know.

    [He dismisses him, and stands forlornly in the Gallery, while
    the Imperfectly Educated Daughter goes on spelling out the
    Catalogue for her Parents’ edification.

* * * * *

A STORY—­OUT OF SEASON.

[Illustration]

  So she’s married to him!  Whilst I travelled and wandered
    Far away, for the lack of aught better to do;
  Whilst my time and my money I recklessly squandered
    In a hunt for big game—­she was doing it too! 
  And I am not surprised he has fallen a prey to
    The graces and wiles of a maiden so fair;
  I must take a back seat as I humbly give way to
    The Earl and the Countess of Hanover Square.