_Lady Cant._ Hush, please, everybody! Mr. SPURRELL is going to read. My dear Dr. RODNEY, if you _wouldn't_ mind just---- Lord LULLINGTON, can you hear where you are? Where are you going to sit, Mr. SPURRELL? In the centre will be best. Will somebody move that lamp a little, so as to give him more light? _Spurr._ (_to himself, as he sits down_). I wonder what we're supposed to be playing at! (_Aloud._) Well, what am I to read, eh? _Miss Spelw._ (_placing an open copy of "Andromeda" in his hands with a charming air of deferential dictation_). You might begin with _this_--such a _dear_ little piece! I'm dying to hear _you_ read it! _Spurr._ (_as he takes the book_). I'll do the best I can! (_He looks at the page in dismay._) Why, look here, it's _Poetry_! I didn't bargain for that. Poetry's altogether out of my line! (Miss SPELWANE _opens her eyes to their fullest extent, and retires a few paces from him; he turns over the leaves backwards until he arrives at the title-page_.) I say, this is rather curious! Who the dickins is CLARION BLAIR? (_The company look at one another with raised eyebrows and dropped underlips._) Because I never heard of him; but he seems to have been writing poetry about my bull-dog. _Miss Spelw._ (_faintly_). Writing poetry--about your bull-dog! _Spurr._ Yes, the one you've all been praising up so. If it isn't meant for her, it's what you might call a most surprising coincidence, for here's the old dog's name as plain as it can be--_Andromeda_! [_Tableau._ [Illustration: "You might begin with _this_--such a _dear_ little piece!"] * * * * * "LIVING PICTURES." [Illustration: "I'm coming to _take_ you!"]