Second O.M. One correspondent thought the practice of eating soup with table-spoons tended to enlarge the mouth.  I really believe there may be something in it. [A pause.

The Curate.  The weather we have been having seems to have materially affected the harvest prospects at home; they say there will be little or no fodder for the cattle this year.  I saw somewhere—­I forget where it was exactly—­a suggestion to feed cows on chickweed.

Podb. (at the bookcase).  Capital thing for them too, Sir.  Know a man who never gives his cattle anything else.

The Curate.  Oh, really?  And does he find the experiment answer?

Podb. They take to it like birds.  And—­curious thing—­after he’d tried it a month, all the cows turned yellow and went about chirping and twittering and hopping.  Fact, I assure you!

The Curate.  Dear me—­I should scarcely have—­

    [He gradually comes to the conclusion that he is being
    trifled with, and after a few moments of uncomfortable
    silence, gets up and quits the room with dignity.

Podb. (to himself). One of ’em gone!  Now if I can only clear these old tabbies out, I can tackle CULCHARD. (Aloud, to Chaplain’s Wife.) You don’t happen to know if there’s a good doctor here, I suppose?  A lady was saying in the Musik-saal—­the lady with the three daughters who came this afternoon—­that she was afraid they were in for bad feverish colds or something, and asking who there was to call in.

The C.’s W. Oh, I’ve no belief in foreign doctors.  I always find a few drops of aconite or pulsatilla,—­I have my homoeopathic case with me now.  Perhaps, if I went and had a talk with her I could—­[She goes out energetically.

Podb. Another gone! (To the Old Maids.) So you ain’t going down to the Cloisters to-night?  I’m told there’s to be some fun there—­Hide-and-seek, or something—­first-rate place for it, especially now the moon’s up!

First Old Maid.  Nobody told us a word about it.  Hide-and-seek—­and in those quaint old Cloisters too—­It sounds delightful!  What do you say, TABITHA.  Shall we just—?  Only to look on, you know.  We needn’t play, unless—­

    [The Two Old Maids withdraw in a pleased flutter.  PODBURY
    crosses to CULCHARD.

Podb. (with determination).  Look here, CULCHARD, I’d just like to know what you mean by the way you’re going on.

Culch. I thought we were both agreed that discussions of this kind—­

Podb. It’s all bosh our travelling together if we’re not to have any discussions.  You’ve been on the sulk long enough.  And I’ll thank you to inform me what you’re after here, going about alone with Miss PRENDERGAST like this, in the Museum with her all the morning, and on the lake again this afternoon,—­it won’t do, you know!