_A Sarcastic and Solitary Diner._ Waiter, could you spare me one moment of your valuable time? (_The_ Waiter _halts irresolutely._) It is so long since I had the pleasure of speaking to you, that you may possibly have forgotten that about three-quarters of an hour ago I ventured to express a preference for an Entrecôte aux pommes de terre with a half-bottle of Beaune. Could you give me any idea how much longer those rare dainties may take in preparing, and in the meantime enable me to support the pangs of starvation by procuring me the favour of a penny roll, if I am not trespassing too much upon your good-nature? [_The_ Waiter, _in a state of extreme mystification and alarm, departs to inform the_ Manager. _The E.A.'s Waiter_ (_reappearing with a small plated bowl, champagne bottle and glass of lager._) I regred fery moch to haf to dell you zat zere is only shust enough Bisque for von berson. [_He bows with well-bred concern._ _The E.A_. Confound it all! (_To_ Guest.) Here, _you'd_ better take this, now it's here. Afraid of it, eh? Well, Bisque _is_ apt to disagree with some people. (_To_ Waiter.) Give it to me, and bring this gentleman some gravy soup, or whatever else you have ready. (_He busies himself with his Bisque, while the_ Guest, _in pure absence of mind, drinks the champagne with which the_ Waiter _has filled his glass._) Here, what are you doing? _I_ didn't order lager. (_Perceives the mistake_.) Oh, you've changed your mind, have you? (_To_ Guest.) All right, of course, only it's a pity you couldn't say so at once. (_To_ W.) Another pint of Pommery, and take this lager stuff away. (_Exit_ W.; _the unfortunate_ Guest, _in attempting to pass the bottle, contrives to decant it into his host's soup._) Hullo, what the--there--(_controlling himself_). You might have left me the _soup_, at all events! Well--well--it's no use saying any more about it. I suppose I shall get something to eat some day. [_General tumult from several tables; appeals to the_ Waiters, _who lose their heads and upbraid one another in their own tongue_; HORATIA _threatens bitterly to go in search of buns and lemonade at a Refreshment Bar. Sudden and timely appearance of energetic Manager; explanations, apologies, promises. Magic and instantaneous production of everybody's dinner. Appetite and anger appeased, as Scene closes in._ N.B.--_Mr. Punch_ wishes it to be understood that the above sketch is not intended as a reflection upon any of the deservedly popular restaurants existing at present in either exhibition. * * * * * LEGAL AND MILITARY.--"Ancient Lights."--Retired Lancers. * * * * * [Illustration: PARLIAMENTARY NIGHT-BIRDS.] * * * * * MEDICINAL MUSIC. (_A Growl from a "Quiet Street."_)