The I.A. (indulgently). Rum-looking sort o' beast that ere.
Fiancée. Ye-es—I wonder if it's a likeness of some animal they used to 'ave then?
The I.A. I did think you was wider than that!—it's on'y imaginative. What 'ud be the good o' wings to a bull?
Fiancée (on her defence). You think you know so much—but it's got a man's 'ed, hain't it? and I know there used to be 'orses with 'alf a man where the 'ed ought to be, because I've seen their pictures—so there!
The I.A. I dunno what you've got where your 'ed ought to be, torking such rot!
IN THE UPPER GALLERIES; ETHNOGRAPHICAL COLLECTION.
A Grim Governess (directing a scared small boy's attention to a particularly hideous mask). See, HENRY, that's the kind of mask worn by savages!
Henry. Always—or only on the fifth of November, Miss GOOLE?
[He records a mental vow never to visit a Savage Island on Guy Fawkes' Day, and makes a prolonged study of the mask, with a view to future nightmares.
A kind, but dense Uncle (to Niece). All these curious things were made by cannibals, ETHEL—savages who eat one another you know.