ON A GUERNSEY EXCURSION CAR.
The car, drawn by four horses, and crowded with Excursionists on pleasure bent, is toiling up the steep streets of St. Peter Port, when it comes to a sudden halt.
Excursionists (impatiently). Now then, what's this? What are we stopping here for?
The Driver. Ladies and Gentlemen, you will thoroughly understand that it is customary for the car to stop here, in order that the party may be photographed, thus providing an agreeable souvenir of the trip, and a useful means of identification at Scotland Yard. (A Photographer appears in the road with a camera, and the party prepare themselves for perpetuation in a pleased flutter.) P'raps, Sir—(to a Mild Man on the box-seat)—you'd like to be taken 'andling the ribbons? Most of our Gentlemen do.
[The Mild Man accepts the reins, and endeavours to assume a knowing and horsey expression.
A Timid Lady (behind). I do hope no Gentleman will take the reins, unless he is thoroughly accustomed to driving four-in-hand. Suppose they took it into their heads to run away suddenly!
Driver (solemnly). Don't you alarm yourself about that, Ma'am, in the very slightest degree. These 'osses take that pride in themselves, they'd stop here all day rather than spoil their own likenesses!
[The M.M. intimates that he is no novice in the art of driving, which is fairly true as regards a pony-trap—and the fears of the T.L. are allayed.