carefully, I could hear no cats, so I sat down on the bank by
the side of the road and prepared to contemplate the phenomenon.

When I say 'Punch and Judy show' I am wrong. Although what I
saw suggested the proximity of a Punch and a Judy, to say
nothing of the likelihood of a show, I did not, as a matter of
fact, descry any one of the three. The object that presented
itself to my view was the tall, rectangular booth, gaudy and
wide-mouthed, with which, until a few years ago, the streets of
London were so familiar. Were! Dear old Punch and Judy, how
quickly you are becoming a thing of the past! How soon you will
have gone the way of Jack-i'-the Green, Pepper's Ghost, the
Maypole, and many another old friend! Out of the light into the
darkness. The old order changeth, yielding place to new, and in
a little space men shall be content to wonder at your ancient
memory as their grandfathers marvelled at that of the frolics of
my Lord of Misrule. However.

There was the booth. But that was all. It stood quite alone at
the side of the white road. I walked round it. Nothing. I
glanced up and down the road, but there was no one in sight. I
had been feeling hungry, for it was seven o'clock; but this was
better than breakfast, and I returned to the bank. The little
red curtains fluttered, as a passing breeze caught them, and I
marked how bright and new they looked. It was certainly in good
condition- this booth.

"Well?" said a voice.

"Well?" said I.