Culch. It’s the best place to get to Cologne and up the Rhine from.  Then, you see, we go rather out of our way to Nuremberg—­

Podbury.  Where they make toys? I know—­pretty festive there, eh?

Culch. I don’t know about festive—­but it is—­er—­a quaint, and highly interesting old place.  Then I thought we’d dip down to Constance, and strike across the Alps to the Italian Lakes.

Podbury.  Italian Lakes?  First—­rate!  Yes, they’re worth seeing, I suppose.  Think they’re better than the Swiss ones, though?

Culch. (tolerantly).  I can get the coupons changed for Switzerland, if you prefer it.  The Swiss Lakes may be the more picturesque.

Podbury.  Yes, we’ll do Switzerland—­and run back by Paris, eh?  Not much to do in Switzerland, though, after all!

Culch. (with a faintly superior smile).  There are one or two mountains, I believe.  But, personally, I should prefer Italy.

Podbury.  So should I. No fun in mountains—­unless you go up ’em.  What do you think of choosing some quiet place, where nobody ever goes—­say in France or Germany—­and, sticking to that.  More of a rest, wouldn’t it be? such a bore having to know a lot; of people!

Culch. I don’t see how we can change all the tickets, really.  If you like, we could stop a week at St. Goarshausen.

Podbury.  What’s St. Goarshausen like—­cheery?

Culch. I understood the idea was to keep away from our fellow countrymen, and as far as I can remember St. Goarshausen, it is not overrun with tourists—­we should be quiet enough there.

Podbury.  That’s the place for me, then.  Or could we push on to Vienna?  Never seen Vienna.

Culch. If you like to give up Italy altogether.

Podbury.  What do you say to beginning with Italy and working back?  Too hot, eh?  Well, then, we’ll let things be as they are—­I daresay it will do well enough.  So that’s settled!

Culchard (to himself on parting, after final arrangements concluded).  I wish ROSE had warned me that PODBURY’s habit of mind was so painfully desultory. (He sighs.) However—­

Podbury (to himself).  Wonder now long I shall take to get over CULCHARD’s manner. (He sighs.) I wish old HUGHIE was coming—­he’d give me a leg over!

    [He walks on thoughtfully.

* * * * *

OFF TO MASHERLAND.

(BY OUR OWN GRANDOLPH.)

[Illustration:  “Put out the light, and then—­” Being the true story of The Wonderful Lamp.]