lch._ No--only pained by such a travesty of a noble name.
"Scallywags" for SCALIGERS seems to me, if I may say so, a very cheap
form of humour!

_Miss T._ Well, it's more than cheap--it isn't going to cost you a
cent, so I should think you'd appreciate it!

_Bob P._ Haw--score for _you_, Miss TROTTER!

_Culch._ I should have thought myself that mere personality is hardly
enough to give point to any repartee--there is a slight difference
between brilliancy and--er--_brutality_!

_Bob P._ Hullo! You and I are being sat upon pretty heavily, Miss
TROTTER.

_Miss T._ I guess our Schoolmaster's abroad. But why Mr. CULCHARD
should want to make himself a train out of my coverlets, I don't just
see--he looks majestic enough without that.

[_CULCHARD catches up a blanket which is trailing, and says
bad words under his breath._

_AT THE TOMB OF JULIET._

_Culch._ (_who is gradually recovering his equanimity_). Think of
it! the actual spot on which _Romeo_ and _Juliet_--SHAKSPEARE's
_Juliet_--drew their last breath! Does it not realise the tragedy for
you?

_Miss T._ Well, no--it's a disappointing tomb. I reckoned it would
look less like a horse-trough. I should have expected _Juliet's_ Poppa
and Momma would want, considering all the facts of the case, to throw
more style into her monument!

_Culch._ (_languidly_). May not its very simplicity--er--attest the
sincerity of their remorse?

_Miss T._ Do you attach any particular meaning to that observation
now? (_CULCHARD bites his lip._) I notice this tomb is full of
visiting cards--my! but ain't that curious?

_Culch._ (_instructively_). It only shows that this place is not
without its pathos and interest for _most_ visitors, no matter what
their nationality may be. You don't feel inclined yourself to--?

_Miss T._ To leave a pasteboard? Why I shouldn't sleep any all night,
for fear she'd return my call!

_Culch._ (_producing a note-book_). It's fanciful, perhaps but, if you
don't mind waiting a little, I should like to contribute--not my card,
but a sonnet. I feel one on its way.

_Bob P._ Better make sure the tomb's _genuine_ first, hadn't you? Some
say it _isn't_.

_Culch._ (_exasperated_). I _knew_ you'd make some matter-of-fact
remark of that kind! There--it's no use! Let us go.

_Miss T._ Why, your sonnets seem as skeery as those lizards there! I
hope JULIET won't ever know what she's missed. But likely you'll mail
those verses on to her later.