[_He does nothing._

_She._ Well, you may as well go on. It will be something, anyhow.

(_Yawns._) Nothing ever seems to happen in this play. I don't know why. It isn't my fault. Oh, go on.

_He._ All right. Don't suppose it amuses me, though. Darling, I love you--will you marry me?

_She_ (_very wearily_). Oh, I suppose so.

_He._ Thanks very much. (_Kisses her._) There!

[_Returns proudly to his seat, and does nothing._

_She_ (_with sudden excitement_). Supposing I had said "No," would you have shot yourself?--would you have gone to the front?--would your life have been a blank hereafter? Would anything interesting have happened?

_He_ (_with a great determination in his eyes_). Had you spurned my love----

_She_ (_excitedly_). Yes, yes?

_He_ (_with emotion_).--I should have--I should have--done nothing.

[_Does it._

_She._ Oh!

_He._ Yes. As for shooting or drowning myself if any little thing of that sort had happened it would have been _off_ the stage. I hope I know my place.

[_She does nothing._

_He_ (_politely_). I don't know if you're keen about stopping here?

If not, we might----

_She._ We must wait till somebody else comes on.

_He._ True. (_Reflects deeply._) Er--do you mote much?

[_She sleeps. The audience follows suit. Curtain eventually._

[Ill.u.s.tration: HOW HE OUGHT _NOT_ TO LOOK

_Excited Prompter_ (_to the Ghost of Hamlet's father, who is working himself up to the most funereal aspect he can a.s.sume_).

"Now then, Walker, _LOOK ALIVE_!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: PREHISTORIC SHAKSPEARE.--"MACBETH"

"Infirm of purpose!

Give me the daggers."--_Act II. Sc. 2._]

[Ill.u.s.tration: MUSIC-HALL INANITIES.--I.

_Miss Birdie Vandeleur ("Society's Pet"--vide her advertis.e.m.e.nts pa.s.sim) bawls the refrain of her latest song_:--

"Ow, I am sow orferly _shy_, boys!

I am, and I kennot tell wy, boys!

Some dy, wen I'm owlder, Per'aps I'll git bowlder, But naow I am orfer-ly shy!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: MUSIC-HALL INANITIES.--II. The Ill.u.s.trative Method.

'E's not a _tall_ man--Nor a _short_ man--But he's just the man for me.'

"Not in the army--Nor the nivy--But the royal artill-er-ee!"]

ATTENTION AT THE PLAY.

(_As performed at many London Theatres_)

SCENE--_Interior of a Private Box._

TIME--_Towards the end of the First Act of an established success._

PRESENT--_A party of Four._

_No. 1_ (_gazing through opera gla.s.ses_). A good house. Do you know anyone?

_No. 2._ Not a soul. Stay--aren't those the Fitzsnooks?

_No. 3_ (_also using a magnifier_). You mean the woman in the red feather at the end of the third row of the stalls?

_No. 4._ You have spotted them. They have got Bobby Tenterfore with them. You know, the Johnnie in the F. O.

_No. 1._ I thought Mr. Tenterfore was at Vienna.

_No. 4._ No; he _was_ going, but they sent another chap. Brought him back from somewhere in the tropics.

_No. 3._ Then what is Mr. Tenterfore doing in town?

_No. 4._ Oh! come home on leave. Lots of that sort of thing at the F. O.

_No. 1_ (_having grown weary of looking at the audience_). By the way, _a propos de bottes_, I have some money to invest. Can you suggest anything?

_No. 3._ They say that Diddlers Deferred will turn up trumps.