Second W. Yes, it 'ud be a pity for it to go to somebody as 'ud want to take 'em out. First W. It ought to be bought up by Gover'ment, that it ought—they're well able to afford it.
A select party of Philistines, comprising a young Man, apparently in the Army, and his Mother and Sister, are examining Mr. Gilbert's Jubilee Trophy in a spirit of puzzled antipathy.
The Mother. Dear me, and that's the Jubilee centrepiece, is it? What a heavy-looking thing. I wonder what that cost?
Her Son (gloomily). Cost? Why, about two days' pay for every man in the Service!
His Mother. Well, I call it a shame for the Army to be fleeced for that thing. Are those creatures intended for mermaids, with their tails curled round that glass ball, I wonder? [She sniffs.
Her Daughter. I expect it will be crystal, Mother.
Her Mother. Very likely, my dear, but—glass or crystal—I see no sense in it!
Daughter. Oh, it's absurd, of course—still, this figure isn't badly done. Is it supposed to represent St. George carrying the Dragon? Because they've made the Dragon no bigger than a salmon!
Mother. Ah, well, I hope Her Majesty will be better pleased with it than I am, that's all.
[After which they fall into ecstasies over an industrial exhibit consisting of a drain-pipe, cunningly encrusted with fragments of regimental mess-china set in gilded cement.