(_A Dialogue at the Service of the "I. G. C."_)
_Visitor._ As I am a stranger in London, can you please tell me how to
get to Holly Lodge?
_Native._ Make for Holloway, and you will get into its neighbourhood.
_Visitor._ Thanks, very much; and where is the Institute of the
Painters in Water Colours?
_Native._ Why, in Piccadilly, of course; next door to St. James's
Church.
_Visitor._ I am infinitely obliged to you; and now perhaps you will
direct me to Carlton House Terrace, Kew Gardens, Greenwich, and the
Docks?
_Native._ First, behind the Athenæum; and the others you can get to by
train after consulting Bradshaw. But why this thirst for geographical
knowledge?
_Visitor._ Because I am a member of the International Geographical
Congress.
_Native._ Indeed! And what are you going to do at these places?
_Visitor._ I am going to be "entertained." In fact, my duty will be to
see and be seen.
_Native._ And how about geographical research?
_Visitor._ That will be satisfied to a considerable extent by a hunt
for sandwiches, and a quest for strawberries and cream!
* * * * *
[Illustration: OFF!
_Mature Damsel_ (_as they pass the Conservatory_). "DEAR ME! WHAT A
DELICIOUS SMELL OF"--(_archly_)--"ORANGE-BLOSSOMS!"
_Little Mr. Tipkins_ (_alarmed_). "OH, NO--REALLY--I ASSURE YOU,
NOTHING OF THE SORT!" [_Bolts._]
* * * * *