_Exhib._ Then it's mine in the next. _Second_ Prize! Better'n Third, that, ain't it? _The Friend._ They've got _that_ down as PARTON'S too. _Exhib._ Well, I _thought_ some'ow as----_this_ is him anyway. Look 'ere! _First_ Prize! And deserves it, though I sez it myself! _Friend (not without a certain satisfaction)._ No--no, you're wrong again. I'll show you where _you_ are. See. "Seven 'underd and five. W. CROPPER. Buck. Ten months." _That's_ you! _Exhib. (incredulously)._ That? that ain't never _my_ cream buck! (_The rabbit remains wrapt in meditation._) I'll soon show yer. (_Blows in rabbit's face. Mutual recognition. Tableau._) It _is_ my buck! And only 'ighly commended! (_Recovering himself._) Well, I arsk you if he oughtn't to ha' done the other--him as they've given the First Prize to? Why, there ain't no comparison between them two rabbits! _The Cock (encouragingly)._ Crorky-rorky-roo! _The Friend (losing all further interest)._ Well, it's all chance like. Let's go and 'ave a look at them Lops. _Crowd of Admirers around pen containing gigantic gander._ _First Admirer._ That's _WILKINSES'_ gander, that is. _Second Admirer._ A fine-grown bird, I _will_ say. [_Handsomely, as if he would hardly have expected such a person as WILKINS to produce anything as good as THAT._ _Third Admirer._ Monster, ain't he? Why, yer might _ride_ on him! _Small Child (pointing delightedly at the Gander)._ 'Ook, Mozzer, pitty duck! _Fond Parent (admiringly)._ I declare it's wonderful how quick he gets the names--it _is_ a fine duck! _The Cock (with a touch of correction)._ Crorky--rorky--roo! _A Connoisseur (inspecting pigeon)._ Now, _there's_ a nice pigeon--that _is_ a nice pigeon; but I tell yer what it is--he ain't got the space to do hisself justice in there. Give him a bigger pen, and a brick to stand on, and you'd soon see the difference! _Fellow Conn._ They ought to ha' give him more room to show off his tail in--else what's the good of a bird _'aving_ a tail, come to that? _First Conn. (sententiously)._ Ah, you've 'it it. _Competitor (apparently, unsuccessful)._ I say, (_with bitter sarcasm_) 'Are yer seen the pair as take a Fust? Birds I wouldn't pick up if I found 'em in the street--no, _that_ I wouldn't! Fust Prize to them--hor-hor! Well, the world's comin' to a pretty pass, I must say! Arter _that!_---- [_Eloquent aposiopesis._ _Amandus (tolerantly, to Amanda)._ Well, pidgings _are_ pretty much alike, unless you've been brought up to know the differences. I 'ad a _Uncle_ a breeder. _Amanda (feeling that her ignorance is no longer a discredit)._ Then _you'd_ know! [_They go out arm-in-arm, silent but sympathetic._ * * * * * INTERIORS AND EXTERIORS. No. 52. [Illustration: PLATFORM ORATORY. By Our Travelling Special.