10 P.M.—Glorious news! A triumphant victory! Our party, in single file, made a descent upon the table-d'hôte, seized a large number of hors d'œuvres, and, after an hour's desperate fighting, secured a large room on the top floor, where we are now safely barricaded for the night! Hurrah!
At Dieppe.—Edwin. Awfully jolly here! Awfully jolly band! Awfully jolly waltz! Awfully jolly, isn't it?
Angelina. Quite too awfully nice!
Edwin. Waltz over. Awfully nice moon! Awfully jolly to be a poet, I should think. Say heaps of civil things about the moon, don't you know! Rather jolly, eh? Tennyson, and that sort of thing, don't you know?
Angelina. Yes, isn't he a perfect love?
Edwin. Yes—great fun. Next dance—square. Awfully stupid things—squares, eh? You're not engaged?
Angelina (archly). Not yet!
Edwin. Then let's sit it out.