_L.P._ (_with cheery candour_). Well, no Sir, not quite. Oh, I'll not deceive you! It has been in use a few months, and, as you see, is none the worse for _that_. Better, if anything, being fully tested as to seasoning. I need 'ardly tell _you_, Sir, that new furniture nowadays is a ticklish thing to invest in. _Such_ tricks, my dear Sir, _such_ nefarious dodges and artful fakements! (_Sighs._) But--(_taking up a chair and banging it vigorously but adroitly on the floor_)--_this_ is stuff you can depend on, and 'll be better three years hence than it is to-day. This saddle-bag _sweet_, Madam, is simply luxurious, good enough for any doocal dinin'-room; the carpets throughout are as elegantly hesthetick in design, as they are substantial in fabric, whilst the--ahem! sleeping apartments, are perfect pickters of combined solidity and chaste elegance. _I_ always say, that as a real gentleman is known by his linen, so the 'ome of a party of true taste may be tested by the bed-rooms. You'll excuse me, Madam--(_smirks_)--but such are _my_ sentiments, _not_ as a salesman, but as a family man. [L.P. _takes_ EDWIN _and_ ANGELINA _the round of the house, expatiating glowingly but discreetly as he goes, and ultimately effects sale of the "furniture as it stands" for a liberally proffered "ten-pun note off the advertised sum tottle."_ SCENE III.--_Interior of Greengage Villa_. ANGELINA (_now_ Mrs. CANOODLE) _discovered in tears over the wreck of a "Saddlebag" Sofa, very shaky as to legs, and shabby as to "pile."_ _Angelina_ (_sobbing_). And to think that _dear_ EDWIN should have spent his long savings on such wretched stuff as _this_! Oh, that talkative but treacherous tout at Vamp Villa! Why, 'tis only six months since we were married--(_bohoo!_)--and there's scarcely a thing in the house that's not either shaky, or shabby, or both! [_Breaks down._ _Edwin_ (_entering with a flushed face, and clenched fists_). ANGY, my darling, _don't_ waste your tears over that vile combination of unseasoned timber and devil's-dust. Rather pluck up a spirit and pitch into _me_, who was fool enough to be tricked by a plausible advertisement, a scheming vendor of shoddy furniture, a hired villa, a verbose villain, and the thrice-told tale of a mythical "Indian gentleman," an imaginary "emergency," and a purely supposititious "sacrifice." [_Left lamenting._ * * * * * "A DANIEL!" [Illustration: G.O.M. DANIEL in the Irish Lions' Den.]