_Cousin Madge._ "Well, good-bye, Charlie. So many thanks for taking care of us!"

_Charlie._ "_Not at all!_"]

VOCES POPULI

II.

ON THE PLATFORM

_A Lady of Family._ Oh, yes, I do travel third-cla.s.s sometimes, my dear.

I consider it a duty to try to know something of the lower orders.

[_Looks out for an empty third-cla.s.s compartment._

EN ROUTE

_The seats are now all occupied: the Lady of Family is in one corner, next to a Chatty Woman with a basket, and opposite to an Eccentric-looking Man with a flighty manner._

_The Eccentric Man (to the Lady of Family)._ Sorry to disturb you, mum, but you're a-setting on one o' my 'am sandwiches.

_The L. of F._???!!!

_The E. M. (considerately)._ Don't trouble yourself, mum, it's of no intrinsic value. I on'y put it there to keep my seat.

_The Chatty W. (to the L. of F.)._ I think I've seen you about Shinglebeach, 'ave I not?

_The L. of F._ It is very possible. I have been staying with some friends in the neighbourhood.

_The C. W._ It's a nice cheerful place is Shinglebeach; but (_confidentially_) don't you think it's a very sing'ler thing that in a place like that--a fash'nable place, too--there shouldn't be a single 'am an' beef shop?

_The L. of F. (making a desperate effort to throw herself into the question)._ What a very extraordinary thing, to be sure! Dear, _dear_ me! No ham and beef shop!

_The C. W._ It's so indeed, mum; and what's more, as I dare say you've noticed for yourself, if you 'appen to want a snack o' fried fish ever so, there isn't a place you could go to--leastways, at a moment's notice. Now, 'ow do you explain such a thing as that?

_The L. of F. (faintly)._ I'm afraid I can't suggest any explanation.

_A Sententious Man._ Fried fish is very sustaining.

[_Relapses into silence for the remainder of journey._

_The Eccentric Man._ Talking of sustaining, I remember, when we was kids, my father ud bring us home two pennorth o' ches'nuts, and we 'ad 'em boiled, and they'd last us days. (_Sentimentally._) He was a kind man, my father (_to the L. of F., who bows constrainedly_), though you wouldn't ha' thought it, to look at him. I don't say, mind yer, that he wasn't fond of his bit o' booze--(_the L. of F. looks out of window_)--like the best of us. I'm goin' up to prove his will now, I am--if you don't believe me, 'ere's the probate. (_Hands that doc.u.ment round for inspection._) That's all reg'lar enough, I 'ope. (_To the L.

of F._) Don't give it back before you've done with it--I'm in no 'urry, and there's good reading in it. (_Points out certain favourite pa.s.sages with a very dirty forefinger._) Begin there--_that's_ my name.

[_The L. of F. peruses the will with as great a show of interest as she can bring herself to a.s.sume._

_The Eccentric Man._ D'ye see that big 'andsome building over there?

That's the County Lunatic Asylum--where my poor wife is shut up. I went to see her last week, I did. (_Relates his visit in detail to the L. of F., who listens unwillingly._) It's wonderful how many of our family have been in that asylum from first to last. I 'ad a aunt who died cracky; and my old mother, she's very peculiar at times. There's days when I feel as if I was a little orf my own 'ed, so if I say anything at all out of the way, you'll know what it is.

[_L. of F. changes carriages at the next station. In the second carriage are two Men of seafaring appearance, and a young Man who is parting from his Fiancee as the L. of F. takes her seat._

_The Fiance._ Excuse me one moment, ma'am.

(_Leans across the L. of F. and out of the window._)

Well, goodbye, my girl; take care of yourself.

_The Fiancee (with a hysterical giggle)._ Oh, I'll take care o' _my_ self.

[_Looks at the roof of the carriage._

_He (with meaning)._ No more pickled onions, eh?

_She._ What a one you are to remember things! (_After a pause._) Give my love to Joe.

_He._ All right. Well, Jenny, just one, for the last (_they embrace loudly, after which the F. resumes his seat with an expression of mingled sentiment and complacency_). Oh, (_to L. of F._) if you don't mind my stepping across you again, mum. Jenny, if you see d.i.c.k between this and Friday, just tell him as----

[_Prolonged whispers; sounds of renewed kisses;_

_Final parting as train starts with a jerk which throws the Fiance upon the L. of F.'s lap. After the train is started a gleam of peculiar significance is observable in the eyes of one of the Seafaring Men, who is reclining in an easy att.i.tude on the seat. His companion responds with a grin of intelligence, and produces a large black bottle from the rack. They drink, and hand the bottle to the Fiance._

_The F._ Thankee I don't mind if I do. Here's wishing you----

[_Remainder of sentiment drowned in sound of glug-glug-glug; is about to hand back bottle when the first Seafarer intimates that he is to pa.s.s it on. The L. of F. recoils in horror._

_Both Seafarers (rea.s.suringly)._ It's _wine_, mum!

[_Tableau. The Lady of Family realises that the study of third-cla.s.s humanity has its drawbacks._

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Our Artist (who has strolled into a London terminus)._ "What's the matter with all these people? Is there a panic?"

_Porter._ "Panic! No, this ain't no panic. These is excursionists. Their train leaves in two hours, so they want to get a seat!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE BRANCH STATION

_Miss Tremmles (who is nervous about railways generally, and especially since the late outrages)._ "Oh, porter, put me into a carriage where there are ladies, or respectable people, or----"

_Porter._ "Oh, you're all safe this mornin', miss; you're th' only pa.s.senger in the whol' tr'ine, except another old woman."]

[Ill.u.s.tration: A COOL CARD