SCENE--_The terrace in front of Hauberk Hall, which the_
LARKSPURS _have taken for the Summer_. TIME--_An August
afternoon. Miss STELLA LARKSPUR--a young lady with great
energy and a talent for organisation--has insisted upon all
the Guests taking part in a Menagerie Race._
_The Rev. Ninian Headnote, the Local Curate_ (_to Mr. PLUMLEY
DUFF--after uneasily regarding Miss STELLA, as she shakes up some
pieces of folded paper in a hat_). Can you give me any idea of the
precise nature of this amusement--er--nothing resembling a gambling
transaction, I suppose?--or I really--
_Mr. Plumley Duff_. Well, I'm given to understand that we shall each
be expected to take an animal of some sort, and drive it along with a
string tied to its leg. Sounds childish--to _me_.
_The Curate_ (_relieved_). Oh, exactly, I see. Most entertaining,
I'm sure! (_He coos._) What wonderful ingenuity one sees in devising
ever-fresh pastimes, do we not? Indeed, yes!
_Miss Stella_. There, I've shuffled all the animals now. (_Presenting
the hat_.) Mr. HEADNOTE, will you draw first?
_The Curate_. Oh, really. Am I to take one of these? Charmed! (_He
draws._) Now I wonder what my fate--(_Opening the paper_.) The Monkey!
(_His face falls._) _Is_ there a Monkey here? _Dear_ me, how _very_
interesting!
_Dick Gatling_ (_of H.M. Gunboat "Weasel"_). Brought him over my
last cruise from Colombo. No end of a jolly little beast--bites like
the--like _blazes_, you know!
_Miss Stella_ (_to her Cousin_). Now, DICK, I won't have you taking
away poor Jacko's character like that. He's only bitten BINNS--and,
well, there _was_ the gardener's boy--but I'm sure he _teased_ him.
_You_ won't tease him, will you, Mr. HEADNOTE?
_The Curate_. I--I shouldn't dream of it, Miss STELLA,--on the
contrary, I--(_To himself._) Was it quite discreet to let myself
be drawn into this? Shall I not risk lowering my office by publicly
associating myself with a--a Monkey? I feel certain the Vicar would
disapprove strongly.
_Dick_ (_to Colonel KEMPTON_). Drawn _your_ animal yet, Sir?
_The Colonel_ (_heatedly_). Yes, I have--and I wish I'd kept out of
this infernal tomfoolery. Why the mischief don't they leave a man in
peace and quietness on a hot afternoon like this? Here am I, routed
out of a comfortable seat to go and drive a confounded White Rabbit,
Sir! Idiotic, _I_ call it!
_The Curate_. Pardon me, Colonel KEMPTON; but if you object to the
Rabbit, I would not at all mind undertaking it myself--and you could
take my Monkey--
_The Colonel_. Thanks--but I won't deprive you. A Rabbit is quite
responsibility enough for me!
_The Curate_ (_to himself, disappointed_). He's afraid of a poor
harmless Monkey--and he an Army man, too! But I _don't_ see why _I_--
_Miss Gussie Grissell_. Oh, Mr. HEADNOTE, _isn't_ it ridiculous!
They've given me a Kitten! It makes me feel too absurdly young!
_The Curate_ (_eagerly_). If you would prefer a--a more appropriate
animal, there's a Monkey, which I am sure--(_To himself, as Miss
G. turns away indignantly_). This Monkey doesn't seem very
popular--there must be _someone_ here who--I'll try the American
Lady--they are generally eccentric. (_To Mrs. HEBER K. BANGS._) I hope
Fortune has been kind to you, Mrs. BANGS?
_Mrs. Bangs_. Well, I don't know; there _are_ quadrupeds that can trot
faster over the measured mile than a Tortoise, and that's _my_ animal.
_The Curate_ (_with sympathy_). Dear me! That is a trial, indeed, for
you! But if you would prefer something rather more exciting, I should
be most happy, I'm sure, to exchange my Monkey--
_Dick Gatling_ (_bustling up_). Hallo, what's that? No, no, Mrs.
BANGS--be true to your Tortoise. I tell you he's going to romp
in--Æsop's tip, don't you know? I've backed you to win or a place. I
say, what do you think _I_'ve drawn--the Mutton! Just my luck!
_The Curate_. DICK, just come this way a moment--I've a proposition
to make; it's occurred to me that the Monkey would feel more--more at
home with you, and, in short, I--
_Mr. Plumley Duff_ (_plaintively, to Miss CYNTHIA CHAFFERS_). I
shouldn't have minded any other animal--but to be paired off with a
Goose!
_Miss Chaffers_ (_consolingly_). You're better off than _I_ am, at all
events--I've got a Puppy!
_Mr. Duff_. Have you? (_After a pause--sentimentally_.) Happy Puppy!
_Miss C._ He'll be anything but a happy Puppy if he doesn't win.
_Mr. Duff_. Oh, but he's sure to. I know I would, if _I_ was your
Puppy!
_Miss C._ I'm not so sure of that. Don't they lodge objections, or
something, for boring?
_Mr. Fanshawe_. Can anybody inform me whether I'm expected to go and
catch my Peacock? Because I'll be hanged if--
_The Curate_. Oh, Miss STELLA, it's all right--Mr. GATLING thinks
that it would be better if he undertook the Monkey himself; so we've
arranged to--
_Miss Stella_. Oh, nonsense, DICK! I can't have you taking advantage
of Mr. HEADNOTE's good-nature like that. What's the use of drawing
lots at all if you don't keep to them? Of _course_ Mr. HEADNOTE will
keep the Monkey.
[_The unfortunate Curate accepts his lot with Christian
resignation_.
_Dick_. Well, _that's_ settled--but I say, STELLA, where's my Mutton's
moorings--and what's to be the course?
_Stella_. The course is straight up the Avenue from the Lodge to the
House, and I've told them to get all the beasts down there ready for
us; so we'd better go at once.