_Ben_ (_with disappointment, as he succeeds to the peephole_). Why, 'tain't on'y ADAM an' EVE afoor th' Fall! that ain't so partickler noo, as _I_ can see--Lar dear, they're a settin' nekked on a live lion, and a nursin' o' rabbits! (_At the next hole_ ADAM _and_ EVE _are represented "After the Fall," overwhelmed with confusion, while the lion is stalking off scandalised, with a fine expression of lofty moral indignation._) 'Ere they are _agen_! that theer lion thinks he's played sofy to 'en long 'nough, seemin'ly! _Ge-arge_ (_from a further peephole_). I say, BEN, 'ere's Mrs. PEARCEY a murderin' Mrs. 'OGG down this 'un--we're a-gittin' _along_! _Ben_ (_puzzled_). They must ha' skipped out a deal. I'm on'y at "CAIN killin' ABEL!" _Female Patron_ (_to Proprietor_). 'Ere, Master, I can't see nothen' down 'ere--'tis all dark like! _Proprietor._ Let _me_ 'ave a look! You shud put your 'ands so, each side o' your eyes, and--(_He looks._) 'Um, it is _rayther_--but what else do yer _expeck_? It's a "View o' Paris by Night," ain't it--_that_'s all right! OUTSIDE "PROFESSOR PUGMAN'S SPARRING SALOON." _The Professor_ (_on a little platform, with a pair of Pupils_). Now then, all you as are lovers o' the Noble and Manly Art o' Self-Defence, step inside and see it illusterated in a scientific an' fust-class manner! This (_introducing first Pupil, who rubs his nose with dignity_) is 'OPPER of 'Olloway, the becoming nine-stun Champion. This hother's BATTERS o' Bermondsey, open to fight any lad in England at eight-stun four. Is there anyone among you willing to 'ave a round or two with either on 'em fur a drink an' admission free?--if so, now's his time to step forward--there's no waiting, mind yer? _Joe_ (_to Melia_). I b'lieve as 'ow I could tackle the little 'un--I used to box above a bit. _Melia._ Don't ye now, JOE; you'll on'y go and git yourself 'urt or summat! _Joe._ _I_ shan't git 'urt. 'Ere, Master, I'm game fur to put on the gloves wi' _'im_. _Prof._ Git inside with yer then! (_To Crowd._) Now then for the Great Glove Contest--Just goin' inside to begin--Mind, there's _no_ waitin'! _Joe._ 'Ere, MELIA, come along in, and look arter my 'at an' coat. _Melia._ I dussen't, JOE! I can't abear to see no fightin', I'll bide 'ere till ye come out. [_JOE enters the tent, followed by the Pupils and a few Connoisseurs._ _Prof._ (_looking into the interior of tent through a slit in the canvas_). Theer they are! Oh my, what a pictur'! They're puttin' on the gloves now, make 'aste if you're goin' in! (_The Crowd hesitate._) 'Ere! (_To the Champions._) Step outside once more and show yourselves! [_The Champions appear, re-mount the platform, and are introduced all over again._ _Melia_ (_intercepting her swain_). JOE, 'ow are ye gittin' on? You don't look none the worse so fur; is it neelly over? _Joe_ (_gruffly_). Neelly over! why, we ain't _begun_ yet--nor likely to wi' all this bloomin' palaverin'!