The Hum.  ’Arry (with intention).  Oh, I sy, DYSY, yn’t that the Kempynoily of Kennington Oval, right oppersite? and ’aven’t they got the Grand Kinel in the Ole Kent Road proper, eh?

Dysy (playing up to him, with enjoyment).  Jest ’aven’t they!  On’y I don’t quoite remember whether the colour o’ them gas-lamps is correct.  But there, if we go on torkin’ this w’y, other parties might think we wanted to show orf!

Mrs. L.S. Do you remember our last gondola expedition, LAVENDER, coming home from the Giudecca in that splendid sunset?

The Hum.  A. Recklect you and me roidin’ ’ome from Walworth on a rhinebow, DYSY, eh?

Chorus of Chaff from the bridges and terraces as they pass. ’Ullo, ’ere comes another boat-load!  ’Igher up, there!...  Four-wheeler!...  Ain’t that toff in the tall ‘at enjoyin’ himself?  Quite a ’appy funeral! &c., &c.

Mrs. L.S. (faintly, as they enter the Canal in front of the Stage).  LAVENDER, dear, I really can’t stand this much longer!

Mr. L.S. (to the Bloated Youth).  Might I ask you, Sir, not to puff your smoke in this lady’s face—­it’s extremely unpleasant for her!

The B.Y. All right, Mister, I’m always ready to oblige a lydy—­but—­(with wounded pride)—­as to its bein’ unpleasant, yer know, all I can tell yer is—­(with sarcasm)—­that this ’appens to be one of the best tuppeny smokes in ’Ammersmith!

Mr. L.S. (diplomatically).  I am sure of that—­from the aroma, but if you could kindly postpone its enjoyment for a little while, we should be extremely obliged!

The B.Y. Well, I must keep it aloive, yer know.  If there’s anyone ’ere that understands cigars, they’ll bear me out as it never smokes the same when you once let it out.

    [The other Passengers confirm him in this epicurean dictum,
    whereupon he sucks the cigar at intervals behind Mrs. L.S.’s
    back, during the remainder of the trip.

Mr. L.S. (to Mrs. L.S. when they are alone again).  Well, MIMOSA, illusion successful, eh?

Mrs. L.S. Oh, don’t!

* * * * *

[Illustration:  ABOMINATIONS OF MODERN SCIENCE.

MARIANA ARRIVES AT THE MOATED GRANGE (AFTER A LONG, DAMP JOURNEY) JUST IN TIME TO DRESS FOR DINNER, AND FINDS, TO HER SORROW, THAT HER ROOM IS WARMED BY HOT WATER PIPES AND LIGHTED BY ELECTRICITY.]

* * * * *

TO MY CIGARETTE.

[Illustration]

  My own, my loved, my Cigarette,
    My dainty joy disguised in tissue,
  What fate can make your slave regret
    The day when first he dared to kiss you?

  I had smoked briars, like to most
    Who joy in smoking, and had been a
  Too ready prey to those who boast
    Their bonded stores of Reina Fina.