The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1868-12-26 00:00:00

'ciiU6iUNIELEI.

Arthur. Do you like dancing?
Grace. For its own sake not much. I greatly
prefer a nice walk in the fresh air and sunshine.
Arthur. Now, do you, really?
Grace. I do, indeed. A dance may be a bore: one's
partner may be a fool Pleasant chat, of course,
makes it another thing. Let us sit down a little; the
crowd feels sultry. It is not that lam tired.
Arthur. That is a pretty bouquet of yours.
Grace. Isn't it? lam fond of flowers.
Arthur. You don't say so fond.
Grace. No, that is so stupid. But doesn't it seem
absurd to carry about at every party a thing like this
(taps his aria with it), done up in a cornet, like a
grocer's half-pound of sugar.
Arthur. Looks a little gregarious—wag that from
Covent Garden?
Grace. Yes; cost five shillings. Papa wanted to
give me a guinea one, but I wouldn't hear of it. Where
will this be the day after to-morrow? Of things that
fade and spoil, I say always make the cheapest do.
Arthur. Yes, to be sure ; certainly.
Grace. It was very kind f Papa, though. Oh, lie is
the dearest, best Papa in the world, and wouldn't
mind any expense he could afford to give his children
pleasure. But no, I said, Papa, if you do lay out
money upon ornament, buy coins thing solid.
Arthur. A bracelet—or a ring?
Grace. Yes, a finger ring--no ear-rings. I call them
barbarisms. We might as well wear rings in our
noses, which I do believe most of us would if the
Princess of Wales were to set the example.
Arthur. She won't, please the pigs.
Grace. Talking of that, do you like pork?
Arthur. Boiled leg of pork and pease-pudding? Oh,
don't I !
Grace. Now, there again is something solid, though
too soon gone, like flowers. Shoulder-of-mutton and
onion sauce?
_ .

Arthur. I believe you!
Grace. That is the sort of thing to spend money
upon. And you have something to show for it—health
and strength—bone, flesh
Arthur. And form—complexion (s/Ighlly bozeing)—
rose and 14.
Grace. Yes; like that lady with the small waist and
the low dress, yonder.
Arthur. She? I should say she had been made
beautiful for ever.

Grace. She has on a splendid dress.
Arthur. Plain person and handsome dress. Plain
dress and handsome person for me. Your dress is
plain, now.
Grace (smiling). Oh, but Pm fond enough of dress,
though. I would dress as well as I could afford— not
one farthing better. But I should like to drew always
the same. I admire the unchanging costumes of the
East.. _ .

--
Arthur. I am glad to hear you say so.
Grace. I wish the fashions would never alter. I
wish somebody would invent an everlasting bonnet,
made of something that wouldn't wear out.
Arthur. Splendid notion.
Grace. And a cheap, durable evening dress : brown-
holland would look very well, nicely trimmed.
Arthur. Admirably!
Grace. The expense of finery is the worst of these
parties. But then it is easy enough to stay at home.
Arthur. You don't care about company?
Grate. Hate it—except the society of a few friends
—that I like. The sort of party I prefer is a snug
little dinner.
Arthur. Without ceremony.
Grace. And without show. I don't disregard ap-
pearances you know; but what I may is the Internal
before the Outside.
Arthur. Oh, come, I say, we must waltz again. It
makes a fellow fit to dance with delight to hear a girl
speak so sensibly.
Grace (laughing). Hut talking about the Inner and
the Outer reminds me that there is dressing for one as
well as the other. "Iris all very well studying how to
dress one's-self, but betterhow to dress one's dinner.
Arthur. Ah ! (eyeing her as he sighs with a smile)
very few girls are up to that.
Gram. Few, indeed—too few, I say.
Arthur. Hardly any capable of plain cookery.
Grace. Hardly one.
Arthur. Sad defect of education.

Grace. Lamentable.
Arthur. Couldn't cook a chop or steak.
Grace. Wouln't know if it should be fried or broiled.
Arthur. Ha! ha! ha!
Grace. Ha, ha ! Rump-steak nicely broiled.
Arthur. Outside—tender and juicy within.
Grace. And a good mealy potato.
Arthur. In its jacket—shalots.
Grace. And mushroom ketchup.
Arthur. Am particularly fond .4 mushrooms. Get
up every morning in the season to gather some for
breakfast.
Grace. Just the breakfast I should like—and the
walk.
Arthur. Should you? Fond of fried onions?
Grace. Passionately.
Arthur. Why (hesitating a little)—why are we like a
cup and saucer?
Grace (soft(y). I can't think.
Arthur (in the sante tour). Because we seem to be
made for each other.
Grace (gcntly). Do you think so?
An), ur. id., by Jove. I'm I:300 a-year.
Grace (plain firrly). I'm nothing.
Art' v.. You've Management, Conaidera-
tit n, Thome.' Economy with Elegance. You
can tight. Will yol ?
Fighl —what?
Arthur. Battle of life.
Grace. I could try.
Arthur. Hooray! Bargain!
Grace. Yea.
Arthur. No fuss?
Grare. Not the least.
Arthur. No bridesmaids?
Grace. None.
Arthur. No orange-blossoms?
Grace. N..t one.
Arthur. No cards?
Grace. Of course, not any.
Arthur. A nice plain bridecake ?
Gram Nice and plain.
Arthur. Plum or seedy?
Grace. Seedy.
Arthur. Seedy? No, hang it; we can stand plum.
Well— then I maw ask Mamma?
Grace. Papa; I have no Mamma.
Arthur. No Mamma! No Mother-in-Law! Dearest,
cheapest girl. Reasonable being. My treasure, and
no mistake. What joy is in store for us. Happy
We! Three hundred a-year to start with. Frugality,
persevering industry, ultimate wealth. Happy, happy
we!
Grace. Happy, happy, happy we!
[They sing Happy We," from " Acis and Galatea," regard-
less of surrounding objects while the Scene Closes. J

Although the ex-Queen of Spain desires to see her
son leign in Spain, she has determined never again to return
to her native teaL Isabella was asked the osner day by a
distinguished otndial how She I.ked Paris She replied,
.• Like It it I 1.1 only known how nice Paris is, I would
have abdicated years age !"