Miss D. (sweetly). Not’ in the very least. Are you sure you’ve quite finished playing?
Mr. C. As I’ve lost all I’d won and a lot on the top of that, I should rather think I had finished playing.
Miss D. So has the Orchestra—quite a coincidence, isn’t it? You were so absorbed, you see!—No, I won’t keep you out here, thanks; my sister will take care of me.
Mr. C. (to himself, as he departs rather sheepishly). I’ve offended that girl—I could see she was wild at missing that Barn Dance. I wish I had danced it, I’m sure,—it would have saved me several francs. It was all her own fault. However, I’ll ask her for a waltz another evening, and make it up to her that way. Confound those Petits Chevaux!
Miss D. AMY, he’s gone,—and I haven’t danced and I haven’t sat out with him—and he can’t’ say it’s my fault either! (She kisses her hand to the Petits Chevaux inside.) Thanks, ever so much, you dear little beasts!
THE BRUMMAGEM BIRDCATCHER.
(A Lay of a Labour Programme.) AIR—“The Ratcatcher’s Daughter.”
