THE S. L. (_her enthusiasm greatly on the wane, and her temper slightly affected_). Lucy, I _wish_ you wouldn't worry so--it's quite impossible to stop and look at _everything_. If you wanted your tea as badly as _I_ do! Mark that one? What, when they neither of them have a single _thing_ on! Never, Lucy,--and I'm surprised at your suggesting it! Oh, you meant the next one? h'm--no, I _can't_ say I care for it. Well, if I _do_ mark it, I shall only put a tick--for it really is _not_ worth a cross! COMING OUT. THE MAN WHO ALWAYS MAKES THE RIGHT REMARK. H'm. Haven't seen anything I could carry away with me. HIS FLIPPANT FRIEND. Too many people about, eh? Never mind, old chap, you _may_ manage to sneak an umbrella down stairs--I won't say anything! [_Disgust of his companion, who descends stairs in offended silence, as scene closes._ At the Horse Show. TIME--_About 3.30_. _Leaping Competition about to begin. The Competitors are ranged in a line at the upper end of the Hall while the attendants place the hedges in position. Amongst the Spectators in the Area are--a Saturnine Stableman from the country; a Cockney Groom; a Morbid Man; a Man who is apparently under the impression that he is the only person gifted with sight; a Critic who is extremely severe upon other people's seats; a Judge of Horseflesh; and Two Women who can't see as well as they could wish._ THE DESCRIPTIVE MAN. They've got both the fences up now, d'ye see? There's the judges going to start the jumping; each rider's got a ticket with his number on his back. See? The first man's horse don't seem to care about jumping this afternoon--see how he's dancing about. Now he's going at it--there, he's cleared it! Now he'll have to jump the next one! [_Keeps up a running fire of these instructive and valuable observations throughout the proceedings._ THE JUDGE OF HORSEFLESH. Rare good shoulders that one has. THE SEVERE CRITIC (_taking the remark to apply to the horse's rider_). H'm, yes--rather--pity he sticks his elbows out quite so much, though. [_His Friend regards him in silent astonishment. Another Competitor clears a fence, but exhibits a considerable amount of daylight._ THE SATURNINE STABLEMAN (_encouragingly_). You'll 'ev to set back a bit next journey, Guv'nor! THE COCKNEY GROOM. 'Orses 'ud jump better if the fences was a bit 'igher. THE S. S. They'll be plenty 'oigh enough fur some on 'em. THE SEVERE CRITIC. Ugly seat that fellow has--all anyhow when the horse jumps. JUDGE OF HORSEFLESH. Has he? I didn't notice--I was looking at the horse. [SEVERE CRITIC _feels snubbed_. THE S. S. (_soothingly, as the Competitor with the loose seat comes round again_). _That's_ not good, Guv'nor! THE COCKNEY GROOM. 'Ere's a little bit o' fashion coming down next--why, there's quite a boy on his back. THE S. S. 'E won't be on 'im long if he don't look out. Cup an ball _I_ call it!