owell? There was no
cab at the station, and I have had to toil all the way up the hill with
these confounded parcels of my lady's.

JOHN.--I suppose the shower took off all the cabs, sir. When DID a man
ever git a cab in a shower?--or a policeman at a pinch--or a friend when
you wanted him--or anything at the right time, sir?

MILLIKEN.--But, sir, why didn't the carriage come, I say?

JOHN.--YOU know.

MILLIKEN.--How do you mean I know? confound your impudence!

JOHN.--Lady Kicklebury took it--your mother-in-law took it--went out
a-visiting--Ham Common, Petersham, Twick'nam--doose knows where. She,
and her footman, and her span'l dog.

MILLIKEN.--Well, sir, suppose her ladyship DID take the carriage? Hasn't
she a perfect right? And if the carriage was gone, I want to know, John,
why the devil the pony-chaise wasn't sent with the groom? Am I to bring
a bonnet-box and a hamper of fish in my own hands, I should like to
know?

JOHN.--Heh! [laughs.]

MILLIKEN.--Why do you grin, you Cheshire cat?

JOHN.--Your mother-in-law had the carriage; and your mother sent for
the pony-chaise. Your Pa wanted to go and see the Wicar of Putney. Mr.
Bonnington don't like walking when he can ride.

MILLIKEN.--And why shouldn't Mr. Bonnington ride, sir, as long as
there's a carriage in my stable? Mr. Bonnington has had the gout, sir!
Mr. Bonnington is a clergyman, and married to my mother. He has EVERY
title to my respect.

JOHN.--And to your pony-chaise--yes, sir.

MILLIKEN.--And to everything he likes in this house, sir.

JOHN.--What a good fellow you are, sir! You'd give your head off your
shoulders, that you would. Is the fish for dinner to-day? Band-box
for my lady, I suppose, sir? [Looks in]--Turban, feathers, bugles,
marabouts, spangles--doose knows what. Yes, it's for her ladyship.
[To Page.] Charles, take this band-box to her ladyship's maid. [To his
master.] What sauce would you like with the turbot? Lobster sauce
or Hollandaise? Hollandaise is best--most wholesome for you. Anybody
besides Captain Touchit coming to dinner?

MILLIKEN.--No one that I know of.

JOHN.--Very good. Bring up a bottle of the brown hock? He likes the
brown hock, Touchit does. [Exit JOHN.]

Enter Children. They run to MILLIKEN.

BOTH.--How d'you do, Papa! How do you do, Papa!

MILLIKEN.--Kiss your old father, Arabella. Come here, George--What?

GEORGE.--Don't care for kissing--kissing's for gals. Have you brought me
that bat from Lond