drive it along with a
string tied to its leg. Sounds childish--to me.
The Curate (_relieved_). Oh, exactly, I see. Most entertaining, I'm sure!
(_He coos._) What wonderful ingenuity one sees in devising ever-fresh
pastimes, do we not? Indeed, yes!
Miss Stella. There, I've shuffled all the animals now. (Presenting the
hat.) Mr. HEADNOTE, will you draw first?
The Curate. Oh, really. Am I to take one of these? Charmed! (_He
draws._) Now I wonder what my fate--(Opening the paper.) The
Monkey! (_His face falls._) Is there a Monkey here? Dear me, how
very interesting!
Dick Gatling (_of H.M. Gunboat "Weasel"_). Brought him over my last
cruise from Colombo. No end of a jolly little beast--bites like the--like
blazes, you know!
Miss Stella (_to her Cousin_). Now, DICK, I won't have you taking
away poor Jacko's character like that. He's only bitten BINNS--and,
well, there was the gardener's boy--but I'm sure he teased him. You
won't tease him, will you, Mr. HEADNOTE?
The Curate. I--I shouldn't dream of it, Miss STELLA,--on the contrary,
I--(_To himself._) Was it quite discreet to let myself be drawn into this?
Shall I not risk lowering my office by publicly associating myself with
a--a Monkey? I feel certain the Vicar would disapprove strongly.
Dick (_to Colonel KEMPTON_). Drawn your animal yet, Sir?
The Colonel (_heatedly_). Yes, I have--and I wish I'd kept out of this
infernal tomfoolery. Why the mischief don't they leave a man in peace
and quietness on a hot afternoon like this? Here am I, routed out of a
comfortable seat to go and drive a confounded White Rabbit, Sir!
Idiotic, I call it!
The Curate. Pardon me, Colonel KEMPTON; but if you object to the
Rabbit, I would not at all mind undertaking it myself--and you could
take my Monkey--
The Colonel. Thanks--but I won't deprive you. A Rabbit is quite
responsibility enough for me!
The Curate (_to himself, disappointed_). He's afraid of a poor harmless
Monkey--and he an Army man, too! But I _don't_ see why _I_--
Miss Gussie Grissell. Oh, Mr. HEADNOTE, _isn't_ it ridiculous!
They've given me a Kitten! It makes me feel too absurdly young!
The Curate (_eagerly_). If you would prefer a--a more appropriate
animal, there's a Monkey, which I am sure--(_To himself, as Miss G.
turns away indignantly_). This Monkey doesn't seem very
popular--there must be someone here who--I'll try the American
Lady--they are generally eccentric. (_To Mrs. HEBER K. BANGS._) I
hope Fortune has been kind to you, Mrs. BANGS?
_Mrs. Bangs_. Well, I don't know; there are quadrupeds that can trot
faster over the measured mile than a Tortoise, and that's my animal.
The Curate (_with sympathy_). Dear me! That is a trial, indeed, for you!
But if you would prefer something rather more exciting, I should be
most happy, I'm sure, to exchange my Monkey--
Dick Gatling (_bustling up_). Hallo, what's that? No, no, Mrs.
BANGS--be true to your Tortoise. I tell you he's going to romp
in--Æsop's tip, don't you know? I've backed you to win or a place. I say,
what do you think _I_'ve drawn--the Mutton! Just my luck!
The Curate. DICK, just come this way a moment--I've a proposition to
make; it's occurred to me that the Monkey would feel more--more at
home with you, and, in short, I--
_Mr. Plumley Duff_ (_plaintively, to Miss CYNTHIA CHAFFERS_). I
shouldn't have minded any other animal--but to be paired off with a
Goose!
Miss Chaffers (_consolingly_). You're better off than I am, at all
events--I've got a Puppy!
_Mr. Duff_. Have you? (_After a pause--sentimentally_.) Happy
Puppy!
_Miss C._ He'll be anything but a happy Puppy if he doesn't win.
_Mr. Duff_. Oh, but he's sure to. I know I would, if I was your Puppy!
_Miss C._ I'm not so sure of that. Don't they lodge objections, or
something, for boring?
_Mr. Fanshawe_. Can anybody inform me whether I'm expected to go
and catch my Peacock? Because I'll be hanged if--
The Curate. Oh, Miss STELLA, it's all right--Mr. GATLING thinks
that it would be better if he undertook the Monkey himself; so we've
arranged to--
Miss Stella. Oh, nonsense, DICK! I can't have you taking advantage of
Mr. HEADNOTE's good-nature like that. What's the use of drawing
lots at all if you don't keep to them? Of course Mr. HEADNOTE will
keep the Monkey.
[The unfortunate Curate accepts his lot with Christian resignation.
Dick. Well, _that's_ settled--but I say, STELLA, where's my Mutton's
moorings--and what's to be the course?
Stella. The course is straight up the Avenue from the Lodge to the
House, and I've told them to get all the beasts down there ready for us;
so we'd better go at once.
THE START.
The Competitors. STELLA, my dear, _mustn't_ Miss GRISSELL tell
her kitten not to claw my Tortoise's
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