_Polly_. Wait a bit--it isn't 'alf over yet. There's a angel got to come and carry her away fust--there, the door's opening, that'll be the angel come for it, I expect. (_Disappointed._) No, it's only the doctor. (_A jerky and obviously incompetent little medical practitioner puts his head in at the door, and on being motioned back by the bereaved mother, retires with more delicacy than might have been expected._) Well, he might ha' seen for himself if the child _was_ dead! (_The back of the bed disappears, disclosing a well-known picture of an angel flying upwards with a child._) I did think they'd have a real angel, and not only a picture of one, and anyone can see it's a different child--there's the child in bed just the same. I call that a take-in! _The G.S._ I dunno what more you expect for a penny. _A Person on the Outskirts_ (_eagerly to Friend_). What happened? What is it? I couldn't make it out over all the people's shoulders. _His Friend_. Dying child--not half bad either. You go and put in a penny, and you'll see it well enough. _The P. on the O._ (_indignantly_). What, put in a penny for such rubbish? Not me! [_He hangs about till someone else provides the necessary coin._ _A Softhearted Female_. No, I couldn't stand there and look on. I never _can_ bear them pathetic subjects. I felt just the same with that picture of the Sick Child at the Academy, you know. (_Meditatively._) And you don't have to put a penny in for _that_, either. BEFORE ANOTHER BEDROOM SCENE REPRESENTING "THE DRUNKARD'S DELIRIUM." _First Woman_. That's 'im in bed, with the bottle in his 'and. He likes to take his liquor comfortable, _he_ do. _Second Woman_. He's very neat and tidy, considering ain't he? I wonder what his delirium is like. 'Ere, ROSY, come and put your penny in as the gentleman give yer. (_ROSY, aged six, sacrifices her penny, under protest._) Now, you look--you can't think what pretty things you'll see. [_The little wooden drunkard sits up, applies the bottle to his mouth, and sinks back contentedly; a demon, painted a pleasing blue, rises slowly by his bed-side: the drunkard takes a languid interest in him; the demon sinks._ _A Gentleman with a bloated complexion_ (_critically_). 'Ooever did that--well, I dessay he's a very clever man, but--(_compassionately_)--he don't know much about 'orrors, _he_ don't! _A Facetious Friend. You_ could ha' told him a thing or two, eh, JIM? _The Bloated Gentleman_ (_contemptuously_). Well, if I never 'ad them wuss than _that_! [_A small skeleton, in a shroud, looks in at the door._ _The F.F._ 'Ullo, 'ere's the King o' Terrors for yer! (_ROSY shows signs of uneasiness; a blue demon comes out of a cupboard._) 'Ere's another of 'em--quite a little party he's 'aving! _A Gentleman, in a white tie_ (_as the machinery stops_). Well, a thing like this does more real good than many a temperance tract.