FROM THE LATEST COLWELL-HATCHNEY EXAMINATION PAPER IN FOREIGN LANGUAGES FOR THE CAKE SCHOLARSHIP.—Question. What is the feminine of Beau temps? Answer (immediately given). Belle-Wether.
THE TRAVELLING COMPANIONS.
No. VIII.
SCENE—A Bridge over the Pegnitz, at Nuremberg. Time, afternoon. The shadows of the old gabled and balconied houses are thrown sharply on the reddish-yellow water. Above the steep speckled roofs, the spires of St. Lorenz glitter against the blue sky. CULCHARD is leaning listlessly upon the parapet of the bridge.
Culchard (to himself). How mediæval it all is, and how infinitely restful! (He yawns.) What a blessed relief to be without that fellow PODBURY! He's very careful to keep out of my way—I've scarcely seen him since I've been here. He must find it dreadfully dull. (He sighs.) I ought to find material for a colour-sonnet here, with these subdued grey tones, those dull coppery-greens, and the glowing reds of the conical caps of those towers. I ought—but I don't. I fancy that half-engagement to MAUD TROTTER must have, scared away the Muse. I wonder if PODBURY has really gone yet? (Here a thump on the back disposes of any doubt as to this.) Er—so you're still at Nuremberg? [Awkwardly.
Podbury (cheerfully). Rather! Regular ripping old place this—suits me down to the ground. And how are you getting on?
Culch. Perfectly, thanks. My mind is being—er—stimulated here in the direction most congenial to it.