ng
a very fleet animal, has outrun his pursuer for the moment. Sometimes
we flatter ourselves that we have outrun _our_ pursuer--but,
depend upon it, &c., &c. But now let us see what Valentine is
about--(_Discovering, not without surprise, that the next picture is
a Scene in the Arctic Regions._) Well, you see, he has succeeded in
reaching the coast, and here he is--in a sledge drawn by a reindeer,
with nothing to guide him but the Aurora Borealis, hastening towards
the spot where he has been told he will find Orson. He doesn't
despair, doesn't lose heart--he is sure that, if he only keeps on, if
he--er--only continues, only perseveres--(_Aside._ What drivel I _am_
talking! _To Assistant_. I say, are there many _more_ of this sort?
because we don't seem to be getting on!)--Well, now we come to--(_a
Moonlight Scene, with a Cottage in Winter, appears_)--to the--ah--home
of Valentine's _mother_. You will observe a light in the casement. By
that light the good old woman is sitting, longing and praying for the
return of her gallant boy. Ah, dear children, what a thing a good old
mother is! (_To the Vicar's Daughter_. "I really can _not_ keep on
like this much longer. I'm positively certain these slides are out of
order!") _The V.'s D._ "Oh no; I'm sure it's _all_ right. Do _please_
go on. They're _so_ interested!" _The Young Heckler_. "'Ow bout
Valentoine, Zur?--wheer be 'ee?" Ah, where is Valentine, indeed? (_To
Ass._) Next slide--quick! (_Recognises with dismay a View of the Grand
Canal._) No--but, I say--_really_ I _can't_--Here we have Valentine at
Venice. He has reached that beautiful city,--well called the Queen of
the Adriatic,--at last! He contemplates it from his gondola, and yet
he has no heart just now to take in all the beauty of the scene. He
feels that he is still no nearer to finding Orson than before. (_The
Young Heckler_. "Naw moor be we, Zur. We ain't zeed _nayther_ on 'em
zo fur!" _Tumult, and a general demand for the instant production of
Orson or Valentine._) Now, children, children! this is very irregular.
You must allow me to tell this story my own way. You will see them
both in good time, if you only keep still! (_To Ass._) I can't stand
this any more. Valentine and Orson must be underneath the rest. Find
them, and shove them in quick. Never mind the numbering! (_The screen
remains blank while the Assistant fumbles._) Well, have you _got_
them?

_The Assistant_. No, Sir; I'm rather afraid they ain't