Fair Promenader (to Lady Friend). And I'm sure I don't know how it is, but I'm always crying now for just nothing at all, whenever I'm alone.
The Lady Friend. That's because you give way to it, dear. Come and have something to cheer you up—you'll be a different person after it. [Advice taken; prediction verified.
The Err. Prom. I shay, here'sh lark! see tha' Bobby over there? he thinksh I'm tight! (Waltzes up to him solemnly). Kn'ive pleshure nexsht dansh you, Sir Charlesh?
The Policeman (severely). You keep your 'ands off of me, will you, and take yourself home—that's my advice to you!
Err. Prom. (outraged). You 'pear me to under 'preshionthish is Hy' Par' or Trafa——(with an effort)—Trafa-ralgarar Square. I'm goin' teash you, free Briton not goin' put up with P'lice brurality!
[Hits Policeman in the eye, and is removed, smiling feebly. Scene changes.
An Open Question.
Lord Solly, at Paddies presuming to rail,
Must sneer at their "brogue," which the Markis finds stale.