imrose by the river's brim
A yellow primrose was to him,
And it was nothing more.

Who was it wrote that?--Byron or Dr. Watts? My memory isn't what it used
to be. No matter. It all goes into the account.

My favourite flower!

"For I'm to be Queen of the May, mother, I'm to be Queen of the May!"

(_The Doctor takes up his hat, and tiptoes to the door_.)

Tell me, where is fancy bred,
Or in the heart or in the head?
How begot, how nourished?

(_He breaks, and lets the petals fall one by one_.)
(_The Doctor goes out_.)

Let us all ring fancy's knell;
I'll begin it--Ding-dong bell,
Ding-dong, bell.

(_He goes to sleep_.)

CURTAIN

The Comforter

Dramatis Personae

W.E. GLADSTONE
MRS. GLADSTONE
MR. ARMITSTEAD
MR. JOHN MORLEY
A FOOTMAN

The Comforter

A Political Finale

_The Scene is a sitting-room in Downing Street. The date March, 1894.
The time 10.30 p.m._

_Mrs. Gladstone sits before the fire, on a sofa comfortable for two,
finishing off a piece of knitting. Apparently she has just rung the bell,
on the arrival from the dining-room of her husband and his two guests, for
presently the door opens and the footman presents himself for orders. Mr.
Gladstone takes down from the bookshelf a backgammon board, which he opens
upon a small table somewhat distant from the fireplace_.

GLADSTONE. Well, Armitstead, draughts, or backgammon?

ARMITSTEAD. It was backgammon you promised me.

GLADSTONE. A rubber?

ARMITSTEAD. I shall be delighted.

(_They seat themselves, and begin to set the board. Mr. Morley stands
detached looking on, grave, not quite at ease_.)

MRS. G. (_to the footman_). James, bring up the wine and some
biscuits.

JAMES. Whisky, madam?

MRS. G. No, no; biscuits. Soft biscuits for the other gentlemen, and some
hard ones for the master.

JAMES. Yes, madam.

(_He goes, and in a few minutes returns, sets wine and biscuits on the
side-table, and retires_?)

MORLEY (_to_ GLADSTONE). Now?

GLADSTONE. If you will be so good, my dear Morley, I shall be much
obliged.

(_Slowly and thoughtfully Mr. Morley goes over to fireplace, where he
stands looking at Mrs. Gladstone, who is now beginning to "cast-off" a
completed piece of knitting. The rattle of the dice is heard_.)

GLADSTONE. You play.

(_Thereafter, as the game proceeds, the dice are heard constantly_.)

MORLEY. Well, dear lady?

MRS. G. Well, Mr. Morley? So Mr. Gladstone is at his game