A DERBY DIALOGUE.
Scene—In Town. Jones meets Brown.
Jones. Going to Epsom?
Brown. No, I think not. Fact is, the place gets duller year by year. The train has knocked the fun out of the road.
Jones. Such a waste of time. Why go in a crowd to see some horses race, when you can read all about it in evening papers?
Brown. Just so. No fun. No excitement. And the Downs are wretched if it rains or snows.
Jones. Certainly. The luncheon, too, is all very well; but, after all, it spoils one's dinner.
Brown. Distinctly. And champagne at two o'clock is premature.
Jones. And lobster-salad undoubtedly indigestible. So it's much better not to go to the Derby—in spite of the luncheon.
Brown. Yes,—in spite of the luncheon.
Two hours pass. Scene changes to Epsom.
Jones. Hullo! You here?
Brown. Hullo! And if it comes to that, you here, too?
Jones. Well, I really found so little doing in town that I thought I might be here as well as anywhere else.
Brown. Just my case. Not that there's much to see or do. Silly as usual.
Jones. Quite. Always said the Derby was a fraud. But I am afraid, my dear fellow, I must hurry away, as I have got to get back to my party for luncheon.
Brown. So have I.
[Exeunt severally.
Great and Deserved Success.—Lyceum.—The First Knight!! Sir Henry Irving in an entirely new character. Mr. Punch's sincere congratulations.