AN OVER-HEATED MATRON (_to her Husband_). Well, they don't give you much _room_ in 'ere, I _must_ say. Still, we done better than I expected, after all that crushing. I thought my ribs was gone once--but it was on'y the umberella's. You pretty comfortable where _you_ are, eh, Father? FATHER. Oh, I'm right enough, I am. JIMMY (_their Son; a small, bullet-headed boy, with a piping voice_). If _Father_ is, it's more nor what _I_ am. I can't see nothen, I can't! HIS MOTHER. Lor' bless the boy! there ain't nothen to _see_ yet; you'll see well enough when the Curting goes up. (_Curtain rises on opening scene._) Look, Jimmy, ain't _that_ nice, now? All them himps dancin' round, and real fire comin' out of the pot--which I 'ope it's quite safe--and there's a beautiful fairy just come on, dressed so grand, too! JIMMY. I can't see no fairy--nor yet no himps--nor nothen! [_He whimpers._ HIS MOTHER (_annoyed_). Was there ever such a aggravating boy to take anywheres! Set quiet, do, and don't fidget, and look at the hactin'! JIMMY. I tell yer I can't _see_ no hactin', Mother. It ain't my fault--it's this lady in front o' me, with the 'at. MOTHER (_perceiving the justice of his complaints_). Father, the pore boy says he can't see where he is, 'cause of a lady's 'at in front. FATHER (_philosophically_). Well, _I_ can't 'elp the 'at, can I? He must put up with it, that's all! MOTHER. No--but I thought, if you wouldn't mind changing places with him--you're taller than him, and it wouldn't be in your way 'arf so much. FATHER. It's always the way with you--never satisfied, _you_ ain't! Well, pass the boy across--I'm for a quiet life, I am. (_Changing seats._) Will _this_ do for you? [_He settles down immediately behind a very large, furry, and feathery hat, which he dodges for some time, with the result of obtaining an occasional glimpse of a pair of legs on the stage._ FATHER (_suddenly_). D----the 'at! [Illustration: "THE OWNER OF THE HAT DEIGNS NO REPLY."] MOTHER. You can't wonder at the _boy_ not seeing! P'raps the lady wouldn't mind taking it off, if you asked her? FATHER. Ah! (_He touches_ THE OWNER OF THE HAT _on the shoulder_.) Excuse me, Mum, but might I take the liberty of asking you to kindly remove your 'at? [THE OWNER OF THE HAT _deigns no reply_. FATHER (_more insistently_). Would you 'ave any objection to oblige me by taking off your 'at, Mum? (_Same result._) I don't know if you _'eard_ me, Mum, but I've asked you twice, civil enough, to take that 'at of yours off (_pathetically_). I'm a playin' 'Ide and Seek be'ind it 'ere! [_No answer._ THE MOTHER. People didn't ought to be allowed in the Pit with sech 'ats! Callin' 'erself a lady--and settin' there in a great 'at and feathers like a 'Ighlander's, and never answering no more nor a stuffed himage! FATHER (_to the Husband of_ _The Owner of the Hat_). Will you tell your good lady to take her 'at off, Sir, please?