(_Another Legend of the Royal Military Exhibition._)
[Illustration]
THE Lady once more left her frame in the Club Morning Room.
"So I was wrong," she murmured, as she wended her way towards the now
familiar spot. "Poor NELLIE, after all, was _not_ forgotten. I am glad
of it,--very glad indeed!"
And the flesh tints of Sir PETER LELY'S paint-brush brightened, as a
smile played across the canvas features.
"I' faith! the Military gentlemen are gallants, one and all! To be sure!
Then how would it be possible that the foundress of a hospital should be
overlooked? And one as comely as myself!"
So, well pleased, she journeyed on. As she reached the river, there was
quite a crowd,--people were coming by rail, and boat, and omnibus. It
was quite like the olden days of the Exhibitions at South Kensington.
She passed through the turnstiles, and then found the cause of the
excitement. There were all sorts of good things. A gallery full of
pictures, and relics of battles ancient and modern, a museum of
industrial work, a collection of everything interesting to a soldier. In
the grounds were balloons, and fireworks, assaults at arms, and the best
military bands. At length the Lady from the frame in the Club Morning
Room stood before a portrait showing a good-natured face and a comely
presence.
"And so there I am! And in my hands a model of the Hospital hard-by!
'Gad zooks!' as poor dear ROWLEY used to say, I have no cause for
complaint! I thank those kind hearts who can find good in
everything,--even in poor NELLIE!"
And, thoroughly satisfied at the treatment she had received at the
Sodgeries, Mistress NELL GWYNNE returned to her haunt in the Club
Morning Room.
* * * * *
A GLEE QUARTETTE.--Welcome to the Meister Glee Singers. Mr. SAXON, in
spite of his name, is by no means brutal, though he might be pardoned
for being so when he sees his colleague Mr. SAXTON suiting everybody to
a T. Mr. HAST has just as much speed as is necessary, and the fourth
gentleman should be neither angry NORCROSS, since he always sings in
tune. 'Tis a mad world, my Meisters, but, mad or not, we shall always be
glad to hear your glees.
* * * * *
AT THE DENTIST'S.--"_It won't hurt you in the least, and it will be out
before you know where you are_;" _i.e._, "You will suffer in the one
minute and thirty-nine seconds I am tugging at your jaw, all the
concentrated agony of forty-eight continuous hours of wrenching your
crushed and tortured body off your staring and staggered head."
* * * * *