[_Vanishes down star-trap with a diabolical laugh. Cupboard-doors close with a clang; all lights down._ JOE _stands gazing blankly for some moments, and then drags himself off Stage. His Mother and_ JOHN, _with Pear- and Plum-gatherers bearing laden baskets, appear at doors at back of Scene, in faint light of torches._ _Re-enter Joe_ (_bearing a candle and wringing his hands_). Out, jammed spot! What--will these hands _never_ be clean? Here's the smell of the raspberry jam still! All the powders of Gregory cannot unsweeten this little hand.... (_Moaning._) Oh, oh, oh! [_This passage has been accused of bearing too close a resemblance to one in a popular Stage Play; if so, the coincidence is purely accidental, as the Dramatist is not in the habit of reading such profane literature._ _Joe's Mother._ Ah! what an icy dread my heart benumbs! See--stains on all his fingers, _and_ his thumbs! "What JOE was about, His Mother found out, When she look'd at his fingers and thumbs."--_Poem again._ Nay, JOSEPH--'tis your mother ... speak to her! _Joe_ (_tonelessly, as before_). Lady, I know you not (_touches lower part of waistcoat_); but, prithee, undo this button. I think I have jam in all my veins, and I would fain sleep. When I am gone, lay me in a plain white jelly-pot, with a parchment cover, and on the label write----but come nearer, I have a secret for your ear alone ... there are strange things in some cupboards! Demons should keep in the dust-bin. (_With a ghastly smile._) I know not what ails me, but I am not feeling at all well. [JOE'S Mother _stands a few steps from him, with her hands twisted in her hair, and stares at him in speechless terror._ _Joe_ (_to the Chorus_). I would shake hands with you all, were not my fingers so sticky. We eat marmalade, but we know not what it is made of. Hush! if JIM-JAM comes again, tell him that I am not at home. Loo-loo-loo! _All_ (_with conviction_). Some shock has turned his brine! _Joe_ (_sitting down on floor, and weaving straws in his hair_). My curse upon him that invented jam. Let us all play Tibbits. [_Laughs vacantly: all gather round him, shaking their heads, his_ Mother _falls fainting at his feet, as Curtain falls upon a strong and moral, though undeniably gloomy denoument._ * * * * * THE SAVOYARDS.