e.

_The Lecturer._ Illow me to request yar kind hattention for a moment.
(Stand back there, you boys, and don't beyave in such a silly manner!)
We har now arrived at the Haswail, or Sloth Bear, described by BUFFON as
'aving 'abits which make it a burden to itself. (_Severely._) The
Haswail. In the hajoinin' cage observe the Loocorricks, the hony hanimal
to oom fear is habsolootly hunknown. When hattacked by the Lion, he
places his 'ed between his fore-legs, and in that position awaits the
honset of his would-be destroyer.

_Joe's Wife._ I thart it wur th' _hostridge_ as hacted that away.

_Joe._ Ostridges ain't gotten they long twisted harns as iver I heard
on.

_His Wife (stopping before another den)._ Oh, my blessed! 'Ere be a
queer lookin' critter, do 'ee look at 'en, JOE. What'll he be now?

_Joe._ How do 'ee suppose as I be gooin' to tell 'ee the name of 'en?
He'll likely be a sart of a 'arse. [_Dubiously._

_His Wife._ They've a let 'en git wunnerful ontidy fur sure. 'Ere,
Mister (_to Stranger_) can you tell us the name of that theer hanimal?

_Stranger._ That--oh, that's a Gnu.

_Joe's Wife._ He says it be a noo.

_Joe._ A noo _what_?

_His Wife._ Why, a noo _hanimal_, I s'pose.

_Joe._ Well, he bain't naw himprovement on th' hold 'uns, as _I_ can
see. They'd better ha' left it aloan if they couldn't do naw better nor
'im. Dunno what things be coming to, hinventin' o' noo hanimals at this
time o' day!

BEFORE ANOTHER CAGE.

_A Boozed and Argumentative Rustic._ I sez as that 'un's a fawks, an'
I'm ready to prove it on anny man.

_A Companion (soothingly)._ Naw, naw, 'e baint naw fawks. I dunno what
'tis,--but taint naw fawks nawhow.

_B. and A. Rustic._ I tell 'ee _'tis_ a fawks, I'm sure on it. (_To_
Mild Visitor.) _Baint'e_ a fawks, Master, eh?

_Mild Visitor._ Well, really, if you ask me, I should say it was a
hyena.

_The Rustic's Comp._ A hyanna! ah, that's a deal moor like; saw 'tis!

_The Rustic._ A Pianner? do 'ee take me fur a vool? I knaws a pianner
when I sees 'un. Farmer BROWN, 'e 'as a pianner, and 'tain't like naw
fawks! I'll knack th' 'ed arf o' thee, tryin' to stoof me oop i' that
way. Wheer be th' man as said 'twas a pianner? [Mild V. _has discreetly
lost himself in the crowd_.

ON THE ELEPHANT'S BACK.

_Second Boy._ Sit a bit moor forrard, BILLY, cann't 'ee!

_First Boy._ _Cann't_, I tell 'ee, I be sittin' on th' scruff of 'is
neck as 'tis.

_Third Boy._ I can see m