_Culch._ I am glad you see it in that light. Aren't you a little
irritable to-night?

_Podb._ No, I'm not. It's those filthy canals. And the way you
talk--as if a girl like Miss TROTTER wasn't--!

_Culch._ I really can't allow you to lecture me. I am not insensible
to my good-fortune--if others are. Now we'll drop the subject.

_Podb._ I'm willing enough to drop it. And I shall turn in now--it's
late. You coming?

_Culch._ Not yet. Good-night. (_To himself, as PODBURY departs._)
You insensate _dolt_!

_Podb._ Good-night! (_To himself, as he swings off._) Confounded
patronising _prig_!

* * * * *

HUMPTY-DUMPTY UP AGAIN!

[Illustration: Little Tich and the Fine Fairy.]

That hardy annual known as The Drury Lane Pantomime is in full vigour
this year, its flowers of a more brilliant colour than ever, and its
leaves, as evidenced by the book of words, are fresh and vigorous.
In no other sense, however, does the Drury Lane Pantomime bear any
resemblance to "a plant." There is no "take in" about it, except that