_Jack._ I say, Mabel, you've got to dance the "Washington Post" with
_me_.
_Mabel._ I can't. I've promised Teddy Thistledown.
_Jack._ Oh! _that's_ all right. I swapped with him for a Nicaragua
stamp.
_Mabel_ (_touched_). But aren't they rare? Didn't you want it yourself?
_Jack._ Oh! I don't collect, you know.
_George_ (_to Ethel_). They've given us the whole of "Ivanhoe" to mug up
for a holiday task. Isn't it a beastly shame?
_Ethel._ But don't you like Scott?
_George._ Oh! I don't mind _Scott_ so much. It's having to grind in
the holidays that _I_ bar.
_Hester_ (_to Roland_). Shall you go to the pantomime this year?
_Roland._ I don't think so. I'm going to lectures at the Royal
Institution instead.
_Hester._ That isn't as jolly as the pantomime, is it?
_Roland_ (_impartially_). Not while it's going on, but a lot jollier
after it's over.
_Mr. Poffley_ (_a middle-aged bachelor, who "likes to make himself
useful at parties," and is good-naturedly waltzing with little Miss
Chillington_). Have you--er--been to many parties?
_Miss Chillington_ (_a child of the world_). About the usual amount.
There's generally a good deal going on just now, isn't there?
_Mr. Poffley._ A--I suppose so. I go out so little now that I've almost
forgotten _how_ to dance.
_Miss Chillington._ Then you _did_ know once!
_Mr. Poffley_ (_completely demoralised_). I--er--you would rather stop?
_Miss Chillington._ Oh! I don't mind going on, if it amuses you.
[_Mr. Poffley feels that "children are not so grateful as they used
to be for being noticed," and that it is almost time he gave up
going to juvenile parties._
* * * * *
[Illustration: RES ANT-IQUAE.--"Auntie dear, where do these fossil shells
come from?"
"Oh, my dear child, a great many years ago they were washed up here by
the sea."
"How long ago, auntie dear?"
"Ever so long ago, dear child."
"What! Even before _you_ were born, auntie?"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: EXTREME MEASURES
_Mother._ "If I catch you chasing those hens again, I'll wash your face
_every day next week_!"]
* * * * *