Mrs. Greenfat. Eat, my loves.—Some more bread for Bella.—There’s a bit of fat for you, Peter.—Humphy, you shall have my crust.—Pass the stout to Dosee, Mr. John.—Don’t drink it all, my dear!

Mr. Greenfat. Past two o’clock!—Shameful!—Waiter, bring the bill. Twelve shillings and eightpence—abominable!—Charge a shilling a pot for stout—monstrous! Well, no matter; we’ll walk home. Come along.

Master Peter. Mamma, I’m so tired.

Miss Arabella. Mamma, my legs ache so.

Master Humphrey. Papa, I wish you’d carry me.

Mr. Greenfat. Come along—it will be five o’clock before we get home!

[Exeunt omnes.

H.