reconcile it to your conscience, _I_ don't know!

_Maria_. Why, whatever are you pitching into _me_ for!

_The U.O.L._ It's not that it's any partickler pleasure to _me_,
seeing a balloon, though we _did_ get our tea done early to be in time
for it--it's the sly deceitfulness of your _conduck_, MARIA, which is
all the satisfaction I get for coming out with you,--it's the feeling
that--well, there, I won't _talk_ about it!

[In pursuance of which virtuous resolve, she talks about nothing
else for the remainder of the day, until the unfortunate MARIA
wishes fervently that balloons had never been invented.

IN THE BUILDING.

An admiring group has collected before an enormous pin-cushion in
the form of a fat star, and about the size of a Church-hassock.

_First Soldier_ (_to his Companion_). Lot o' work in _that_, yer know!

_Second Soldier_. Yes. (_Thoughtfully_.) Not but what--(_becoming
critical_)--if I'd been doin' it _myself_, I should ha' chose pins
with smaller 'eds on 'em.

_First S._ (_regarding this as presumptuous_). You may depend on
it the man who made _that_ 'ad his reasons for choosing the pins he
did--but there's no pleasing some parties!

_Second S._ (_apologetically_). Well, I ain't denying the _Art_ in it,