NO. V. Scene--_Upper deck of the Rhine Steamer, König
Wilhelm, somewhere between Bonn and Bingen. The little
tables on deck are occupied by English, American, and German
tourists, drinking various liquids, from hock to Pilsener
beer, and eating veal-cutlets. Mr. CYRUS K. TROTTER is on
the lower deck, discussing the comparative merits of the New
York hotels with a fellow countryman. Miss MAUD S. TROTTER
is seated on the after-deck in close conversation with
CULCHARD. PODBURY _is perched on a camp-stool in the forward
part. Near him a British Matron, with a red-haired son, in
a green and black blazer, and a blue flannel nightcap, and a
bevy of rabbit-faced daughters, are patronising a tame German
Student in spectacles, who speaks a little English._
[Illustration: Mr. Cyrus K. Trotter discussing New York Hotels.]
_The British Matron_. Oh, you _ought_ to see London; it's our
capital--chief city, you know. Very grand--large--four million
inhabitants! [_With pride, as being in some way responsible for this._
_A Rabbit-faced Daughter_ (_with a simper_). Quite a little _world_!
[_She looks down her nose, as if in fear of having said
something a little too original._
_The Germ. Stud._ No, I haf not yet at London peen. Ven I vill pedder
Englisch learn, I go.
_The Blazer_. You read our English books, I suppose? DICKENS, you
know, and HOMER, eh? About the Trojan War--that's his _best_ work!
_The Stud._ (_Ollendorffically_). I haf not read DIGGINS; but I haf
read ze bapers by _Bigvig_. Zey are vary indereshtin, and gurious.
_A Patriotic Young Scot_ (_to an admiring Elderly Lady in a black
mushroom hat_). Eh, but we just made a pairrty and went up Auld
Drachenfels, and when we got to th' tope, we danced a richt gude Scots
reel, and sang, "_We're a' togither an' naebody by_." concluding--just
to show, ye'll understan', that we were loyal subjics--wi' "_God Save
th' Queen_." The peasants didna seem just to know what to mak' of us,
I prawmise ye!
_The Black Mushroom_. How I wish I'd been one of you!
_The Young Scot_ (_candidly_). I doot your legs would ha' stood such
wark.
[_PODBURY becomes restless, and picks his way among the
camp-stools to CULCHARD and Miss TROTTER._
_Podbury_ (_to himself_). Time _I_ had a look in, I think. (_Aloud._)
Well, Miss Trotter, what do you think of the Rhine, as far as you've
got?
_Miss T._ Well, I guess it's navigable, as far as _I've_ got.
_Podb._ No, but I mean to say--does it come up to the mark in the
scenery line, you know?
_Miss T._ I cannot answer that till I know whereabouts it is they mark
the scenery-line. I expect Mr. CULCHARD knows. He knows pretty well
everything. Would you like to have him explain the scenery to you
going along? His explanations are vurry improving, I assure you.
_Podb._ I daresay; but the scenery just here is so flat that even my
friend's remarks won't improve it.
_Culch._ (_producing his note-book ostentatiously_). I do not propose
to attempt it. No doubt you will be more successful in entertaining
Miss TROTTER than I can pretend to be. I retire in your favour. [_He
scribbles._
_Podb._ Is that our expenses you're corking down there, CULCHARD, eh?
_Culch._ (_with dignity_). If you want to know, I am "corking down,"
to adopt your elegant expression, a sonnet that suggested itself to
me.
_Podb._ Much better cork that _up_, old chap--hadn't he, Miss TROTTER?
[_He glances at her for appreciation._
_Miss T._ That's so. I don't believe the poetic spirit has much
chance of slopping over so long as Mr. PODBURY is around. You have
considerable merit as a stopper, Mr. PODBURY.
_Podb._ I see; I'd better clear out till the poetry has all gurgled
out of him, eh? Is that the idea?
_Miss T._ If it is, it's your own, so I guess it's a pretty good one.
[_PODBURY shoulders off._
_Culch._ (_with his pathetic stop on_). I wish I had more of your
divine patience! Poor fellow, he is not without his good points; but I
do find him a thorn in my flesh occasionally, I'm afraid.
_Miss T._ Well, I don't know as a thorn in the flesh is any the
pleasanter for having a good point.
_Culch._ Profoundly true, indeed. I often think I could like him
better if there were less in him to like. I assure you he tries me so
at times that I could almost wish I was back at work in my department
at Somerset House!
_Miss T._ I daresay you have pretty good times there, too. Isn't that
one of your leading dry goods stores?
_Culch._ (_pained_). It is not; it is a Government Office, and I am
in the Pigeonhole and Docket Department, with important duties to
discharge. I hope you didn't imagine I sold ribbons and calico over a
counter?
_Miss T._ (_ambiguously_). Well, I wasn't just sure. It takes a pretty
bright man to do that where I come from.
_An Old Lady_ (_who is sitting next to PODBURY, and reading a
home-letter to another Old Lady_). "Dear MARIA and dear MADELINE
are close by, they have taken very comfortable lodgings in Marine
Crescent. Dear MADELINE's frame is expected down next Saturday."
_Second Old Lady_. MADELINE's frame! Is anything wrong with the poor
girl's spine?
_First Old Lady_. I never heard of it. Oh, I see, it's _fiancé_,
my dear. CAROLINE _does_ write so illegibly. (_Continuing._)
"Um--um,--suppose you know she will be maimed--" (perhaps it _is_
her spine after all--oh, _married_, to be sure), "very slowly" (is it
slowly or shortly, I wonder?), um--um, "very quiet wedding, nobody but
dear Mr. WILKINSON and his hatter."
_Second O.L._ The idea of choosing one's hatter for one's best man!
I'm surprised MARIA should allow it!
_First O.L._ Maria always _was_ peculiar--still, now I come to look,
it's more like "brother," which is certainly _much_ more suitable.
(_Continuing._) "She will have no--no bird's-marks ..." (Now, what
_does_ that--should you think that meant "crows-feet"? Oh, no, _how_
stupid of me--_bridesmaids_, of course!)--"and will go to the otter
a plain guy"--(Oh, Caroline really is _too_....)--"to the _altar_ in
plain _grey_! She has been given such quantities of pea-nuts"--(very
odd things to give a girl! Oh, _presents_! um, um)--"Not settled
yet where to go for their hangman"--(the officiating clergyman, I
suppose--very flippant way of putting it, I _must_ say! It's meant for
_honeymoon_, though, I see, to be _sure_!) &c., &c.
_Culch._ I should like to be at Nuremberg with you. It would be an
unspeakable delight to watch the expansion of a fresh young soul in
that rich mediæval atmosphere!
_Miss T._ I guess you'll have opportunities of watching Mr. PODBURY's
fresh young soul under those conditions, any way.
_Culch._ It would not be at all the same thing--even if he--but you
_do_ think you're coming to Nuremberg, don't you?
_Miss T._ Well, it's this way. Poppa don't want to get fooling around
any more one-horse towns than he can help, and he's got to be fixed up
with the idea that Nuremberg is a prominent European sight before he
drops everything to get there.
_Culch._ I will undertake to interest him in Nuremberg. Fortunately,
we are all getting off at Bingen, and going, curiously enough, to the
same hotel. (_To himself_.) Confound that fellow PODBURY, here he is
_again_!
_Podb._ (_to himself, as he advances_). If she's carrying on with
that fellow, CULCHARD, to provoke me, I'll soon show her how little
I--(_Aloud._) I say, old man, hope I'm not interrupting you, but I
just want to speak to you for a minute, if Miss TROTTER will excuse
us. Is there any particular point in going as far as Bingen to-night,
eh?
_Culch._ (_resignedly_). As much as there is in not going farther than
somewhere else, _I_ should have thought.
_Podb._ Well, but look here--why not stop at Bacharach, and see what
sort of a place it is?
_Culch._ You forget that our time is limited if we're going to stick
to our original route.
_Podb._ Yes, of course; mustn't waste any on the Rhine. Suppose we
push on to Maintz to-night, and get the Rhine off our hands then?
(_With a glance at Miss TROTTER._) The sooner I've done with this
steamer business the better!
_Miss T._ Well, Mr. PODBURY, that's not a vurry complimentary remark
to make before me!
_Podb._ We've seen so little of one another lately that it can hardly
make much difference--to _either_ of us--can it?
_Miss T._ Now I call that real kind, you're consoling me in advance!
_The Steward_ (_coming up_). De dickets dat I haf nod yed seen!
(_examining_ CULCHARD's _coupons_). For Bingen--so?
_Culch. I_ am. This gentleman gets off--is it Bacharach or Maintz,
PODBURY?
_Podb._ (_sulkily_). Neither, as it happens. I'm for Bingen, too, as
you won't go anywhere else. Though you _did_ say when we started, that
the advantage of travelling like this was that we could go on or stop
just as the fancy took us!
_Culch._ (_calmly_). I did, my dear PODBURY. But it never occurred to
me that the fancy would take you to get tired of a place before you
got there!
_Podb._ (_as he walks forwards_). Hang that fellow! I know I shall
punch his head some day. And She didn't seem to care whether I stayed
or not. (_Hopefully._) But you never _can_ tell with women!
[_He returns to his camp-stool and the letter-reading Old
Ladies._
* * * * *