The E.A. (exploding).  My bill!  Confound it!  I want something to eat first.  When is that Bisque coming?

Waiter.  Ach, peg your bardon, ve haf peen so pusy all day.  Your Bisque vill pe retty diregly.  I go to vetch him. [He goes.

Horatia.  Now we’re farther off from getting any food than ever!  I suppose you mean to do something, AUGUSTUS?

Augustus.  Of course—­certainly.  I shall speak very strongly. (Bleating.) Waiter!

Horatia (with scorn). Do you imagine they will pay the least attention to a noise like a sixpenny toy?  Lot them see you insist upon being obeyed.

Augustus.  I am—­I mean, I will—­I am very much annoyed. (Fiercely.) Wa-ai-ter!

A Stern Waiter (appearing suddenly.) You vant somsing, Sir?

Augustus (apologetically).  Yes; we should—­er—­like something to eat—­anything—­so long as you can bring it at once, if you don’t mind.  “We—­this Lady is rather in a hurry, and we’ve waited some little time already, you see.

The Waiter.  Peg your bardon, zis is nod my daple.  I send your Vaiter. [He vanishes.

The E.A.  Scandalous! over twenty minutes we’ve been here!  Ha! at last! (A Waiter appears with a tureen, which he uncovers.) Here, what do you call this?

Waiter.  Groute au Bot—­you order him, yes?  No?  I dake him away! [He whisks it away, to the chagrin of Guest, who thought it smelt nice.

The E.A_.  I ordered Bisque—­where is it? and I want some wine, too—­a pint of Pommery ’84, and a small lager.  If they’re not here very soon, I’ll—­

The Guest (trying to make the best of things).  Nothing for it but patience, I suppose.

The E.A. (with intention).  I had very little of that left before I sat down, I can tell you!

A Sarcastic and Solitary Diner. Waiter, could you spare me one moment of your valuable time? (The Waiter halts irresolutely.) It is so long since I had the pleasure of speaking to you, that you may possibly have forgotten that about three-quarters of an hour ago I ventured to express a preference for an Entrecote aux pommes de terre with a half-bottle of Beaune.  Could you give me any idea how much longer those rare dainties may take in preparing, and in the meantime enable me to support the pangs of starvation by procuring me the favour of a penny roll, if I am not trespassing too much upon your good-nature? [The Waiter, in a state of extreme mystification and alarm, departs to inform the Manager.

The E.A.’s Waiter (reappearing with a small plated bowl, champagne bottle and glass of lager.) I regred fery moch to haf to dell you zat zere is only shust enough Bisque for von berson. [He bows with well-bred concern.