syllable. Look here, I'll be a regular impostor, don't you know, and
all of you come on and say what a liar I am. We ought to make that
screamingly funny!

AFTER THE THIRD SYLLABLE.

_Mr. Pushington_. Muddled? Of _course_ it was muddled--you all called
me a liar before I opened my mouth!

_The Rest_.--But you didn't seem to know how to begin, and we _had_ to
bring the Word in somehow.

_Pushington_. Bring it in?--but you needn't have let it _out_. There
was SETTEE there, shouting "liar" till he was black in the face. We
must have looked a set of idiots from the front. I shan't go in again
(_muttering_). It's no use acting Charades with people who don't
understand it. There; settle the Word yourselves!

AFTER THE WORD. AMONG THE AUDIENCE.

_General Murmur_. What _can_ it be? Not _Turk_, I suppose, or
Magician?--Quarrelling?--Parnellite?--Impertinence? Shall we give it
up? No, they like us to guess, poor things; and besides, if we don't,
they'll do another; and it is getting _so_ late, and such a _long_
drive home. Oh, they're all coming back; then it is over. No, indeed,
we can't _imagine. "Familiar_!" To be sure--_how_ clever, and _how_
well you all acted it, to be sure--you must be quite tired after it
all. I am sure _we_--hem--are deeply indebted to you ... My dear Miss
ROSE, how wonderfully you disguised yourself. I never recognised you a
bit, nor _you_, Mr. NIGHTINGALE. What part did _you_ take?