The Preface always is allowed
First to address the expectant crowd;
Whether my task's a pleasant one
I shall know better—when 'tis done.
(She points to the book, Index copying all her movements.)
From out these covers, blithely tripping,
Familiar friends will soon be slipping;
They're tired of hiding in a book,
Where you must go for them to look.
To-night they mean to play before you
Some trifles that we hope won't bore you;
Indeed, we ask for each quotation
Only its meed of approbation.
[She starts to return to the book, but is intercepted by Index, who intimates that he has something to say. Preface takes his hand, and leads him to the footlights.]
Index (first looking admiringly at Preface).
As she is first, so last am I,
The Index that can tell you why
And when and wherefore this was writ,
And who the author is of it;
When a quotation doth appear
I'll do my best to make it clear.
[He bows to the audience, and escorts Preface to the book, opens the cover, and watches it close upon her, kisses his hand after her, and retires dejectedly behind the volume. The piano orchestra strikes up "The Flowers that Bloom in the Spring.">[
Index (popping out his head from back of book). Gilbert and Sullivan.