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school? Well they ought to have, that's all? Where's your Aunt DOING THE OLD MASTERS.
-where's your Aunt? (A Sketch at Burlington House.)
Mr. Ernest Stodgely (before the Portrait of the Marchesa Isabella
Grimaldi). There, FLOSSIE, don't you feel the greatness of that now? IN GALLERY No. I.
I'm curious to know how it impresses you! The Usual Elderly Lady (who judges every picture solely by its Miss Featherhead. Well, I rather like her frock, ERNEST. How subject). “No. 9. Portrait of Mrs. BRYANSTON of Portman. By funny to think aigrettes were worn so long ago, when they've just GAINSBOROUGH." I don't like that at all. Such a disagreeable gone out again, don't you know. It must have been difficult to kiss a expression! I can't think why they exhibit such things. I'm sure person across one of those enormous ruffs, though, don't you think? there's no pleasure in looking at them! Her Companion (who finds no pleasure in looking at any of them).
IN GALLERY No. IV. No, I must say I prefer the Academy to these old-fashioned things. Mr. Schohorff (loudly). Ah, that's a picture I know well ; seen it I suppose we can get a cup of tea here, though ?.
many a time in the Octagon Boudoir at dear old HATCHMENT's. But An Intelligent Person. “Mrs. BRYANSTON of Portman.” Sounds it looks better lighted up. I remember the last time I was down like a made-up name rather, eh? Portman Square, and all that, there they told me they'd been asked to lend it, but the Countess y'know!
didn't seem to think (&c., &c.). His Friend (with a touching confidence in the seriousness of the Mrs. Frivell (before Death of Dido," by Liberale da Verona). authorities). Oh, they wouldn't do that sort
Why is she standing on that pile of furniof thing here!
ture in the courtyard, though? A Too-impulsive Enthusiast. Oh, John,
Mr. F. Because Æneas had jilted her, look at that lovely tiger up there! Isn't
and so she stabbed herself on a funeral pyre the skin marvellously painted, and the eyes
after setting fire to it, you see. so natural and all! It's a Landseer of
Mrs. F. (disapprovingly). How very odd. course!
I thought they only did that in India. But John. Catalogue says STUBBS.
who are all those people looking-on ? The Enth. (disenchanted). STUBBS ? I
Mr. F. Smart people of the period, my never heard of him. But it's really rather
dear. Of course Dido would send out inwell done.
vitations for a big function like that, The Man who is a bit of a Connoisseur
Wind-up of the season-Farewell Reception in his way (arriving at a portrait of Mrs.
-sure to be a tremendous rush for cards. BILLINGTON). Not a bad Romney, that.
Notice the evident enjoyment of the guests. His Friend (with Catalogue). What
They are depicted in the act of remarking makes you think it's a Romney ?
to one another that their hostess is doing The Conn. My dear fellow, as if it was
all in her power to make the thing go off possible to mistake his touch. (Thinks from
well. Keen observer of human nature, old his friend's expression, that he had better
LIBERALE! hedge.) Unless it's a Reynolds. Of course
Mrs. F. Selfish creatures ! it might be a Sir Joshua, their manner at one period was very much alike-yes, it
IN THE VESTIBULE. might be a Reynolds, certainly.
Mrs. Townley-Ratton (about to leave with His Friend. It might be a Holbein-if
her husband, encounters her cousins, the it didn't happen to be a Gainsborough.
Miss RURAL-RATTONS, who have just arrived). The Conn. (effecting a masterly retreat).
Why, SOPHY, MARY! how are you? this is Didn't I say Gainsborough ? Of course
too delightful! When did you come up? that was what I meant. Nothing like Rey
How long are you going to be in town? nolds-nor Romney either. Totally differ
When can you come and see me? ent thing!
Miss Sophy Ratton (answering the two
last questions). Till the end of the week. IN GALLERY No. II.
What will be the best time to find you ? Mr. Ernest Stodgely (before JAN STEEN'S
Mrs. T. R. (warmly). Oh, any time! “ Christening''). Now look at this, FLOSSIE ;
I'm almost always in-except the aftervery curious, very interesting. Gives you
noons, of course. I'm going out to tea or such an insight into the times. This man,
something every day this weck! you see, is wearing a hat of the period.
Miss Sophy R. Well, how would some Remarkable, isn't it?
time in the morningMiss Featherhead. Not so remarkable as
Mrs. T. R. The morning ? No, I'm if he was wearing a hat of some other
afraid I'm afraid it mustn't be the mornperiod, ERNEST, is it?
ing this week-so many things that one has The Elderly Lady (before a View of
to see to! Amsterdam, by Van der Heyden). Now, you “My dear fellow, as if it was possible to mistake his Mr. T. R. (lazily). You'd better all really must look at this, my dear-isn't it
touch ! "
come and dine quietly some evening. wonderful ? Why, you can count every single brick in the walls, [He yawns, to tone down any excess of hospitality in this invitation. and the tiny little figures with their features all complete ; you. Mrs. T. R. (quickly). No, that would be too cruel, when I know want a magnifying-glass to see it all! How conscientious painters they 'll want to go to a theatre every night! And besides, I really were in those days! And what a difference from those "Impres- haven't a single free evening this week. But I must see if we can't sionists," as they call themselves.
arrange something. You really must drop me a line next time you 're Her Comp. (apathetically). Yes, indeed; I wonder whether it coming up! Good-bye, dears, we mustn't keep you from the pictures would be better to get our tea here, or wait till we get outside ? |-such a fine collection this winter! Love to your Mother, and say
The Eld. L. Oh, it's too early yet. Look at that poor hunted I shall try to call-if I possibly can! stag jumping over a dining-room table, and upsetting the glasses Mr. T. R. (as they descend the stairs). I say, SELINA, you forgot and things. I suppose that's LANDSEER- no, I see it's some one of to ask 'em where they are. Shall I run back and find out, eh? the name of SNYDERS. I expect he got the idea from LANDSEER, Mrs. T. R. Not on any account. They're probably at the Grand though, don't you ?
| as usual, and if they're not, it will be a very good excuse if I can't Her Comp. Very likely indeed, dear; but (pursuing her original call. You are such a fusser, ALFRED! train of thought) you get rather nice tea at some of these aërated Miss Sophy (to Miss MARY). What a let-off! I wouldn't have bread-shops ; so perhaps if we waited-(&c., &c.)
minded lunch so much—but dinner-no, thank you, my dear! IN GALLERY No. III.
Miss Mary (gloomily). She may call on Mother and ask us all yet.
Miss Sophy. She doesn't know where we are, and I took good care Two Pretty Nieces with an Elderly Uncle (coming to “Apollo and not to tell her. It's getting too dark to see much, but we'll just Marsyas,” by Tintoretto). What was the story of A pollo and walk through the rooms, to say we've done it-shall we? [They do. Marsyas, Uncle ?
The Uncle. Apollo ? Oh, come, you've heard of him, the-erSun-God, Phæbus-Apollo, and all that ?
A SETTLER FOR MR. WOODS.- Mrs. Ram does not at all wonder at His Nieces. Oh, yes, we know all that; but who was Marsyas, and Amateurs being able to “pick up old pieces of china at CHRISTY'S," what does the Catalogue mean by “ Athena and three Umpires?" for she has often heard that you've only got to go to King Street,
The Uncle. Oh-er-hum! Didn't they teach you all that at where anyone may see them "knocked down under a hammer.”
Mr. Foozler (who, while waiting for the last Train, has wandered to the end of the Platform, opened the door of the Signal-box, and watched the Signalman's manipulations of the levers for some moments with hazy perplexity, suddenly). “ARF o' Burt'x 'N BIRRER F' ME, GUY'NOR !"
What has been and popped the acid in his style so prim and placid ? “ OFF HIS FEED!”
Doesn't shine like what he thought to as head-groom. Yus, there's SCENE—The St. Stephen's Stables. Stall of the Favourite, “ Majority," the rub!
who is being inspected by the great “ Vet.” (S-L-SB-RY) in presence of Vet. (looking at sieve). Seem to shy that feed ! the Groom (B-LF-R), and the Stable-help (CH-PL-N).
I mixed it with the greatest care, and fixed i
With an eye to tempt his appetite, but there, he's off his grub! Stable. help (anxiously). Why, he used to be a stunner, and a safe
Vet. (to Stable-help). Takes your greer stuff better?
Stable-help. True, Sir!
But too much o' that won't do, Sir. Now, what can the cause of this be? He's a-looking queer and
Can't live on tares entirely! (Aside.) This here boy's too full of quisby;
beans. And his off fore leg seems shaky, and the rest ain't no great shakes.
Vet. Ah! I see the whole position. He's a bit out of condition, Groom (sharply). Not too much of it, you HARRY! You are here to fetch and carry,
Wants a tonic and skilled treatment. Yes, no doubt that's what And not to pass opinions in the presence of the Vet.
With an appetite that's picksome comes a temper tart and tricksome, But he does look dicky, Mister; I've tried bolus, I've tried blister, But I haven't got him up to his old form by chalks, Sir, yet!
But a pick-me-up-I'll send one-will, I'm sure set all that square.
And if there's further wasting, then, without too headlong hasting, Vet. (dubiously). You're a bit new at the "biz.,” lad, and I tell you what it is, lad,
Give him, as soon as possible-a little Country Air.' These thoroughbreds aren't managed like a dray-horse, don'tcher
know. They want very careful feeding, and Sangrado purge or bleeding |
LORD WILDERMERE'S MOTHER-IN-LAW. Won't suit our modern strain-of man or horse. Steady, lad ! SHE'S as bad as can be, but she's “Precious" to me,
[Examines him. Though her conduct cannot be called free from a flaw; Groom (rather sulkily). Well, Sir, what do you make it ?
For in spite of blackmail, I have vowed ne'er to fail
In the duty I owe to my Mother-in-law.
There have been flippant sneers and conventional jeers,
At a worthy relation that I hold in awe ;
Comes from drawing big cheques— for my Mother-in-law. and pipe.
Peccadilloes she had, but she isn't all tad, Stable-help. Don't take kindly to his fodder, and, what I thinks And the folks who have sneered shall their libels withdraw; even odder,:
To our dance she shall come, and the world be struck dumb With a temper like a hangel, gits a bit inclined to kick.
At the way that I've whitewashed my Mother-in-law. Landed 'Art Dyke a fair wunner!
She shall rise from the slime of what people called crime, Groom (testily).
Well, you are an eighty-tonner To a virtuous height, for I always foresaw At superfluous patter, HARRY!
'Twould be wise to proclaim to all ages the fame Stable-help (aside).
Lor! His temper 's gitting quick! | Of that much-maligned female—a Mother-in-law.!