SCENE--_The interior of a covered gondola, which is conveying
CULCHARD and PODBURY from the Railway Station to the Hotel
Dandolo, Venice. The gondola is gliding with a gentle sidelong
heave under shadowy bridges of stone and cast-iron, round
sharp corners, and past mysterious blank walls, and old
scroll-work gateways, which look ghostly in the moonlight_.
_Culch._ (_looking out of the felze window, and quoting
conscientiously_).
"I saw from out the wave her structures rise,
As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand.";
_Podb._ For rest, see guide-books, _passim_, eh? Hanged if _I_ can
see; any structures with this thing on, though! Let's have it off,
eh? (_He crawls out and addresses Gondolier across the top._) _Hi!
Otez-moi ceci, entendez-vous?_ (_Drums on roof of felze with fists;
the Gondolier replies in a torrent of Italian._) Now a London cabby
would see what I wanted at once. This chap's a fool!
[Illustration: "Hi! Otez-moi ceci!"]
_Culch._ He probably imagines you are merely expressing your
satisfaction with Venice. And I don't see how you expect him to remove
the entire cabin here! (_PODBURY crawls in again, knocking his head._)
I think we did well to let the--the others travel on first. More
_dignified_, you know!
_Podb._ Um--don't see any particular dignity in missing the train,
myself!
_Culch._ They won't know it was not intentional. And I think, PODBURY,
we should go on--er--asserting ourselves a little while by holding
rather aloof. It will show them that we don't mean to put up with--
_Podb._ Don't see that either. Not going to let that beast, VAN
BOODELER have it _all_ his own way!
_Culch._ Surely you know he decided suddenly to stay at Vicenza?
He said so at breakfast. But I will _not_ have your friend BOB
perpetually--
_Podb._ At breakfast? Oh, I came down late. Vicenza, eh? Then _he_'s
out of it! Hooray! But as for BOB, _he_'s all right too. Oh, I forgot
you cut _déjeuner_. HYPATIA had another squabble with Miss TROTTER,
and poor old BOB got dragged into it as usual, and now they ain't on
speaking terms.
_Culch._ (_overjoyed_). You don't say so! Then all _I_ can say,
PODBURY, is that if we two can't manage, in a place like this, to
recover all the ground we have lost--
_Podb._ More water than ground in a place like this, eh? But _I_ know
what you mean--we _must_ be duffers if we don't leave Venice engaged
men--which we're not as yet, worse luck!
_Culch._ No--but we _shall_ be, if we only insist upon being treated
seriously.
_Podb._ She treats me a devilish deal _too_ seriously, my boy. But
there, never mind--things will go better now!
SCENE--_A double-bedded room in the Grand Hotel, Dandolo,
which PODBURY and CULCHARD have to share for the night._
_Podb._ (_from his bed, suspiciously, to CULCHARD, who is setting
fire to a small pastille in a soap-dish_). I say, old chappie, bar
_fireworks_, you know! What the deuce _are_ you up to over there?
_Culch._ Lighting a "fidibus." Splendid thing to drive out mosquitoes.
(_The pastille fizzes, and begins to emit a dense white smoke, and a
suffocating odour._)
_Podb._ (_bounding_). Mosquitoes! It would drive a _dragon_ out.
Phew--ah! (_CULCHARD closes the window._) You _don't_ mean to say
you're going to shut me up in this infernal reek on a stifling night
like this?
_Culch._ If I didn't, the mosquitoes would come in again.
_Podb._ Come in? With that pastille doing the young Vesuvius! _Do_ you
think a mosquito's a born fool? (_He jumps out and opens the window._)
I'm not going to be smoked like a wasps' nest, _I_ can tell you!
_Culch._ (_calmly shutting it again, as PODBURY returns to bed_).
You'll be grateful to me by-and-by.
[_Slips between his mosquito-curtains in a gingerly manner,
and switches off the electric light. A silence._
_Podb._ I say, you ain't asleep, are you? Think we shall see anything
of them to-morrow, eh?
_Culch._ See? I can _hear_ one singing in my ear at this moment.
(_Irritably._) You _would_ open the window!
_Podb._ (_sleepily_). Not mosquitoes. I meant HYPATIA, and
the--haw--yaw--TROTTERS.
_Culch._ How can _I_ tell? (_Second silence._) PODBURY! What did
I _tell_ you? One's just bitten me--the _beast_! (_He turns on the
light, and slaps about frantically_). I say, I can hear him buzzing
all over the place!
_Podb._ So can I hear _you_ buzzing. How the dickens is a fellow to
get to sleep while you're playing Punch and Judy in there?
_Culch._ He's got me on the nose now! There's a lot outside. Just turn
off the light, will you? I daren't put my arm out. (_To_ Mosquito.)
You brute! (_To_ Podb.) PODBURY, _do_ switch off the light--like a
good fellow!
_Podb._ (_dreamily_). Glass up, Gondolier ... stifling in this cab ...
drive me ... nearest Doge. [_He snores._
_Culch._ Brutal selfishness! (_Turns out the light himself._) Now if I
can only get off to sleep while that little beast is quiet--
_Mosquito_ (_ironically, in his ear_). Ping-a-wing-wing!
_Same Scene; the next morning._
_Culch._ (_drawing PODBURY's curtains_). Here, wake up,
PODBURY--it's just eight. (_PODBURY sits up, and rubs his eyes._) I've
had a _horrible_ night, my dear fellow! I'm stung to such an extent!
But (_hopefully_) I suppose there's nothing to _show_ particularly,
eh? [_Presenting his countenance for inspection._
_Podb._ Not much of your original features, old fellow! (_He roars
with laughter._) You've got a pair of cheeks like a raised map!
_Culch._ It--it's going _down_. Nothing to what it _was_, half an hour
ago!
_Podb._ Then I'm jolly glad you didn't call me earlier, that's all!
_Culch._ It does feel a little inflamed. I wonder if I could get a
little--er--violet powder, or something--?
_Podb._ (_with a painful want of sympathy_). Violet powder! Buy a blue
veil--a good thick one!
_Culch._ What sort of impression _do_ you suppose I should get of
Venice with a blue veil on?
_Podb._ Can't say--but a pleasanter one than Venice will get of you
_without_ it. You don't mean to face the fair Miss TROTTER while
you're like _that_, do you?
_Culch._ (_with dignity_). Most certainly I _do_. I am much mistaken
in Miss TROTTER if she will attach the slightest importance to a mere
temporary--er--disfigurement. These swellings never do last long. _Do_
they now?
_Podb._ Oh, not more than a month or so, I daresay, if you can keep
from touching them. (_He laughs again._) Excuse me, old chap, but I
just got you in a new light. Those mosquitoes have paid you out for
that pastille--by Jove, they have!
_Landing-steps entrance of the Hotel. Nine A.M._
_Culch._ (_coming out a little self-consciously, and finding Mr.
TROTTER_). Ah, good morning! What are your--er--impressions of Venice,
Mr. TROTTER?
_Mr. Trotter_ (_thoughtfully_). Well, I'm considerable struck with
it, Sir. There's a purrfect freshness and novelty about Vernis that's
amusing to a stranger like myself. We've nothing just like this city
out West. No, _Sir_. And how are--(_Becomes aware of CULCHARD's
appearance._) Say, _you_ don't look like your slumbers had been one
unbroken ca'm, either! The mosquitoes hev been powerful active makin'
alterations in you. Perseverin' and industrious insects, Sir! Me and
my darter have been for a loaf round before breakfast. I dunno if
you've seen _her_ yet, she's--.
_Miss T._ (_coming out from behind_). Poppa, they've fixed up our
breakf--(_Sees CULCHARD, and turns away, covering her face_). Don't
you turn your head in _this_ direction, Mr. CULCHARD, or I guess I'll
expire right away!
_Culch._ (_obeying, wounded_). I confess I did _not_ think a few
mosquito-bites would have quite such an effect upon you!
_Miss T._ You're vurry polite, I'm sure! But I possess a hand-mirror;
and, if you cann't bear to look me in the face, you'd better keep
away!
_Culch._ (_takes a hasty glance, and discovers, with a shock, that she
is almost as much disfigured as himself_). Oh, I--I wasn't--(_With an
effort of politeness._) Er--I hope _you_ haven't been inconvenienced
at all?
_Miss T._ Inconvenienced! With haff-a-dozen healthy mosquitoes
springing a surprise party on me all night! I should guess _so_.
(_Noticing C.'s face._) But what in the land have _you_ been about?
Well, if that isn't real _tact_ now! I reckoned I'd been dealt a full
hand in spots; but now I've seen you, I guess there's a straight flush
against me, and I can just throw up. But you don't play Poker, _do_
you? Come along in, Poppa, do. [_She goes in with Mr. T._
_Culch._ (_alone, disenchanted_). I could _not_ have believed any
amount of bites could have made such a terrible difference in her.
She looks positively _plain_! I do trust they're not _permanent_, or
really--! [_He gazes meditatively down on the lapping water._
* * * * *
"WILLIAMS ON WHEELS."
[At Bridgend County Court, on the 16th inst., Judge
WILLIAMS had to hear an action in which 50l. was claimed
as compensation for damages caused by careless driving. The
evidence of one important witness having still to be heard
when the hour arrived for the Judge to leave by train, his
Honour, with the legal advocates and the remaining witnesses,
travelled together to Llantrissant, the witness giving his
evidence _en route_. On reaching Llantrissant, Judge WILLIAMS
gave his decision in the station-master's office, finding for
the plaintiff.--_Daily Paper_.]
SCENE--_Interior of a Saloon Carriage, shortly after the
innovation started by Judge WILLIAMS, has come into general
favour. Judge seated on portmanteau at one end. Parties
to suit glare at each other from opposite sides. Usher,
Witnesses, Counsel, &c.
_Judge._ Usher, that is the third time the engine-driver has blown his
whistle! Tell him that on the very next occasion I shall send him to
prison for contempt of court.
_Usher._ Yes, m'lud. [_Exit Usher._
_Facetious Counsel._ The noise is so deafening, we might even call it
a "part-heard case." [_Laughter._
_Judge._ Well, let's get on. (_To Witness._) You say you actually saw
the prisoner mix the arsenic with the Madeira?
_Witness._ I did, m'lud.
_Judge._ Well, Gentlemen of the Jury, perhaps we had better, as a
matter of form, have the prisoner before us. By the bye, where _is_
the prisoner?
_Usher_ (_returning_). I believe he's in the dog-box, m'lud. They had
to put him there, he was so refractory in the guard's van.
_Judge._ That shows the advantages of this new way of going Circuit. A
dog-box is just the sort of receptacle for a person accused of murder
in the first class--I mean in the first degree. When do we get to
Blankchester Junction?
_Foreman._ In a quarter of an hour, m'lud, by my time-tables. And I
should like to say that most of the Jury wish to get out there--they
feel the oscillations of this carriage so much. If your Lordship would
sum up now--
_Judge_ (_with alacrity_). Quite so. Blankchester is a convenient
place for _me_ to alight, I think.
[_Sums up lucidly in about five minutes, and Jury at once
brings in verdict of Guilty of Manslaughter._
_Judge_ (_surprised_). Manslaughter, Gentlemen! Perhaps, after all, I
was wrong in not summing up in the Booking-Office. It would have given
time for more consideration. [_Awful collision occurs._
_Judge_ (_at bottom of an embankment_). Usher, Usher! I haven't
pronounced sentence yet! Bring the prisoner before me!
_Usher_ (_wounded_). Beg your Lordship's pardon--prisoner's escaped!
_Judge._ Escaped? Well, I can sentence him in his absence quite as
well. Oh, dear, my back _is_ bad! Those law-books came down on the top
of me, I believe. The sentence of the Court is that the prisoner be
imprisoned, when found, for three years.
_Facetious Counsel_ (_turning up from a heap of wreckage_). As a
_First Class_ misdemeanant, of course?
_Judge_ (_catching the spirit of the joke_). First Class! No--Third
Class, for Portland! [_Left on Circuit._
* * * * *