The E.G. No—thank you, no. I was looking to see whether GREEN the Guide was on the car. (Shouts of laughter are heard from the car behind.) Ah, that's GREEN the Guide! I wish he'd come on our oar—very amusing fellow, Sir—capital company!
The Morose M. (to the Young Lady 'on his Left) Who's GREEN the Guide?
The Y.L. Oh, don't you know? He comes with the cars and makes jokes and all that. I hope he'll come to us.
The Mor. M. I don't. I can do that sort of thing for myself if I want to, I hope. [With a scowl.
The Y.L. Well, there's no harm in hoping!
The Serious Comm. T. (to his neighbour—one of the Shop-ladies). So you come from Birmingham? Dear me, now. I used to be there very often on business at one time. Do you know the Rev. Mr. PODGER there? A good old gentleman, he is. I used to attend his Chapel regular—most improving discourses he used to give us. I am fond of a good Sermon, aren't you? &c.
[He imagines—not altogether correctly—that he is producing an agreeable impression.
A Young Man in a Frock-coat, Canvas-shoes, and Cloth-cap. Scarborough? Yes, I've been there—but I don't care about it much. You have to dress such a lot there, y' know, and I like to come out just as I am!
[The conversation, notwithstanding its brilliancy, is beginning to flag—when the car is boarded by a stalwart good-looking man, carrying a banjo, and wearing a leather shoulder-belt with "GREEN the Guide" in brass letters upon it; the Elderly Gentleman, and most of the Ladies welcome him with effusion, while the Younger Men appear to resent his appearance.
The Mor. M. (sotto voce). If he's going to play that old instrument of torture, I shall howl, that's all!