_The Stout Lady_ (_to the Captain who is steering_). Shall we be out
long, Captain?

_The Captain._ I hope not, Marm, because I'm dining at the tabbly dote
at the Cliftonville this evenin', and I've got to be home in time to
dress.

[_The passengers regard him with increased respect._

_The Mate_ (_familiarly to the Captain_). Yes, dear; you don't want
to die in here, _do_ you? (_explanatorily_) "die in"--_dine_--you'll
excuse _me_, but the ocean always makes me feel so facetious. Captain,
dear, if you'll pardon a common sailor like myself for making
the suggestion, I beg to call upon you for a song. (_The Captain
obligingly bellows "The Stormy Nore--The Jolly old Nore," to the
general satisfaction_). Ah, they didn't know what a canary-bird you
_were_, Captain! Here's a lady asking you to drink at her expense.

[_The Captain is prevailed upon to accept a tumbler of "the
usual;" the Stout Lady says "Captin, your 'elth!" and pledges
him in a whiskey-and-soda._

_First Female Friend_ (_to Second Do. Do._). That's Mrs. EDLING, all
over, puttin' herself so forward! Look at her now, 'anding him up two
cigars in a paper-bag. I call it sickenin'!

_Second Do. Do._ I'm not surprised. She's a woman that 'ud do anythink
for notoriety. I've always noticed _that_ in her.