_).
"NEVER MIND, SMUT! WE'LL HAVE A DOG SHOW THAT SHALL BE ALL CATS EXCEPT
YOU, AND THEN YOU'LL HAVE IT ALL YOUR OWN WAY!"]

* * * * *

VOCES POPULI.

AT THE PASTEL EXHIBITION.

IN THE ANTE-ROOM.

_A Niece_. Just one moment, Auntie, dear; _do_ look and see what No.
295 is!

_Her Aunt_ (_with a Catalogue--and a conscience_). Two hundred and
ninety-five! Before we have even seen No. 1? No, my dear, no. Let us
take things in their proper order--or not at all. (_Perambulates the
galleries for some minutes, refraining religiously from looking at
anything but the numbers._) Ah, _here_ it is--Number One! _Now_,
ETHEL, I'm ready to tell you anything you please!

_First Matter-of-Fact Person_. Ah, here's another of the funny ones!
[_Is suddenly seized with depression._

_Second M.-of-F.P._ Y-yes. (_Examines it gloomily._) What's it all
about?

_First M.-of-F.P._ (_blankly_). Oh, well, it's a Pastel--I don't
suppose it's meant to be about anything in particular, you know.

_The Conscientious Aunt_ (_before No. 129_). "_The Sprigged Frock_"?
Yes, that must be the one. I suppose those _are_ meant for sprigs--but
I can't make out the pattern. She _might_ have made her hair a little
tidier--such a bush! and I never _do_ think blue and green go well
together, myself.

[_They come to a portrait of a charming lady in grey, by_ Mr.
SOLOMON.

_The Niece_ (_with a sense of being on firm ground at last_). Why,
it's ELLEN TERRY! See if it isn't, Auntie.

_The C.A._ (_referring to Catalogue_).

"The leaves of Memory seemed to
Make a mournful rustling."

--that's all it _says_ about it.

_The Niece_ (_finding a certain vagueness in this as a description_).
Oh! But there are _no_ leaves--unless it means the leaves in the book
she's reading. Still I think it _must_ be ELLEN TERRY; don't you?

_The C.A._ (_cautiously_.) Well, my dear, I always think it's as
well not to be too positive about a portrait till you know who it
was painted from.

[_The_ Matter-of-Fact Persons _have arrived at a Pastel
representing several green and yellow ladies seated undraped
around a fountain, with fiddles suspended to the branches
above._

_Second M.-of-F.P._ "_Marigolds_," that's called. I don't _see_ any
though. [_With a sense of being imposed upon._

_First M.-of-F.P._ I think _I_ do--yes, those orange spots in the
green. They're meant for Marigolds, but there aren't very ma