he is still no nearer to finding Orson than before. (THE YOUNG HECKLER. "Naw moor be we, Zur. We ain't zeed _nayther_ on 'em zo fur!" _Tumult, and a general demand for the instant production of Orson or Valentine._) Now, children, children! this is very irregular. You must allow me to tell this story my own way. I assure you that you will see them both in good time, if you only keep still! (_To_ ASS.) I can't stand this any more Valentine and Orson must be underneath the rest. Find them, and shove them in quick. Never mind the numbering! (_The screen remains blank while the_ ASSISTANT _fumbles_.) Well, have you _got_ them? [Illustration: RECOGNISES WITH DISMAY A VIEW OF THE GRAND CANAL.] THE ASSISTANT. No, Sir; I'm rather afraid they ain't _here_. Fact is, they've sent me out with the wrong set o' slides. This ain't _Valentine and Orson_--_it's a miscellaneous lot_, _Sir_! [_Collapse of Curate as Scene closes in._ At a Music Hall. SCENE.--_The auditorium of a Music Hall, the patrons of which are respectable, but in no sense "smart." The occupants of the higher-priced seats appear to have dropped in less for the purpose of enjoying the entertainment than of discussing their private affairs--though this does not prevent them from applauding everything with generous impartiality._ THE CHAIRMAN. Ladies and Gentlemen, the Celebrated Character-Duettists and Variety Artistes, the Sisters Silvertwang, will appear next! [_They do; they have just sung a duet in praise of Nature with an interspersed step-dance. "Oh, I love to 'ear the echo on the Moun-ting!" (Tiddity-iddity-iddity-iddity-um!) "And to listen to the tinkle of the Foun-ting!" (Tiddity, &c.)_ A WHITE-CAPPED ATTENDANT (_taking advantage of a pause, plaintively_). Sengwidges, too-pence! [Illustration: THE SISTERS SILVERTWANG.]