His Mother (annoyed). Was there ever such a aggravating boy to take anywheres! Set quiet, do, and don't fidget, and look at the hactin'!
Jimmy. I tell yer I can't see no hactin', Mother. It ain't my fault—it's this lady in front o' me, with the 'at.
Mother (perceiving the justice of his complaints). Father, the pore boy says he can't see where he is, 'cause of a lady's 'at in front.
Father (philosophically). Well, I can't 'elp the 'at, can I? He must put up with it, that's all!
Mother. No—but I thought, if you wouldn't mind changing places with him—you're taller than him, and it wouldn't be in your way 'arf so much.
Father. It's always the way with you—never satisfied, you ain't! Well, pass the boy across—I'm for a quiet life, I am. (Changing seats.) Will this do for you?
[He settles down immediately behind a very large, furry, and feathery hat, which he dodges for some time, with the result of obtaining an occasional glimpse of a pair of legs on the stage.
Father (suddenly). D—— the 'at!
"THE OWNER OF THE HAT DEIGNS NO REPLY."