[Remainder of sentiment drowned in sound of glug-glug-glug; is about to hand back bottle when the first Seafarer intimates that he is to pass it on. The L. of F. recoils in horror.
Both Seafarers (reassuringly). It's wine, mum!
[Tableau. The Lady of Family realises that the study of third-class humanity has its drawbacks.
Our Artist (who has strolled into a London terminus). "What's the matter with all these people? Is there a panic?"
Porter. "Panic! No, this ain't no panic. These is excursionists. Their train leaves in two hours, so they want to get a seat!"