Culch. The fact is that I much prefer to receive my impressions of a scene like this in solitude.
Miss T. I should have thought you'd be too polite to tell me so; but I was moving on, anyway.
[She goes on. Before CULCHARD can follow and explain, he finds himself accosted by Mr. TROTTER.
Mr. T. I don't know as I'm as much struck by this Waterloo field as I expected, Sir. As an Amurrcan, I find it doesn't come up to some of our battlefields in the War. We don't blow about those battlefields, Sir, but for style and general picturesqueness, I ain't seen nothing this side to equal them. You ever been over? You want to come over and see our country—that's what you want to do. You mustn't mind me a-running on, but when I meet someone as I can converse with in my own language—well, I just about talk myself dry.
[He talks himself dry, until rejoined by the Guide with PODBURY and Miss TROTTER.
Guide (to PODBURY). Leesten, I dell you. My vader—eighteen, no in ze Airmi, laboreur man—he see NAPOLÉON standt in a saircle; officers roundt 'im. Boots, op to hier; green cott; vite vaiscott; vite laigs—
Podbury. Your father's legs?
Guide. No, Sare; my vader see NAPOLÉON's laigs; leedle 'at, qvite plain; no faither—nossing.
Podbury. But you just said you had a faither!
Guide. I say, NAPOLÉON 'ad no faither—vat you call it?—plume—in 'is 'at, at ze bataille.