[He is just going, when Mr. TROTTER rises and comes towards him.
Mr. T. You'll excuse me, Sir, but did I overhear you remark that there was a festivity in progress in this city?
Podb. So I'm told; a fair, down in the new part. I could tell you how to get to it, if you thought of going.
Mr. T. Well, I don't see how I should ever strike that fair for myself, and I guess if there's anything to be seen we're bound to see it, so me and my darter—allow me to introduce my darter to you—MAUD, this gentleman is Mr.—I don't think I've caught your name, Sir—PODBURY?—Mr. PODBURY who's kindly volunteered to conduct us round.
Miss T. I should have thought you'd want to leave the gentleman some say in the matter, Father—not to mention me!
Podb. (eagerly). But won't you come? Do. I shall be awfully glad if you will!
Miss T. If it makes you so glad as all that, I believe I'll come. Though what you could say different, after Father had put it up so steep on you, I don't know. I'll just go and fix myself first.
[She goes.
Mr. T. (to PODBURY). My only darter, Sir, and a real good girl. We come over from the States, crossed a month ago to-day, and seen a heap already. Been runnin' all over Scotland and England, and kind of looked round Ireland and Wales, and now what we've got to do is to see as much as we can of Germany and Switzerland and It'ly, and get some idea of France before we start home this fall. I guess we're both of us gettin' pretty considerable homesick already. My darter was sayin' to me on'y this evening at table d'hôte, "Father," she sez, "the vurry first thing we'll do when we get home is to go and hev a good square meal of creamed oysters and clams with buckwheat cakes and maple syrup." Don't seem as if we could git along without maple syrup much longer. (Miss TROTTER returns.) You never mean going out without your gums?
Miss T. I guess it's not damp here—any—(To PODBURY.) Now you're going to be Mary, and Father and I have got to be the little lambs and follow you around.