_ 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.
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