d leaning against an automatic sweet
machine designed by an Expressionist sculptor. He is wearing a long
mole-coloured smock, and looking with extreme disfavour at his
luggage-truck, which has somehow got itself painted bright blue and
green, with red wheels. Music by_ J. H. Thomaski.

[_Enter L., puffing slowly, the boat-train. The engine and carriages
resemble Early-Victorian prints._ Madame PAVLOVA _descends, and in a
very expressive dance conveys to the_ Porter _that she has one or two
trunks in the guard's van which she wants him to convey to a taxicab_.

_Porter._ 'Ow many is there, lady?

[PAVLOVA _pirouettes a little more and points three hundred and
eighty-five times at the station-roof with her right toe_.

_Porter._ Can't be done nohow.

[PAVLOVA _dances a dance indicative of absolute and heartrending
despair, terminating in an appeal to the heavens to come to her aid.
Enter R. an important-looking personage with a long white beard,
wearing a costume which might be, called a commissionaire's if it
wasn't so like a harlequin's._

_Porter_ (_impressively and with evident relief_). The Stazione Maestro!

_The Stazione Maestro._ What's all this?

[PAVLOVA _dances an explanation of the_ impasse. _The_ S.-M. _and the_
Porter _remove their caps and scratch their heads solemnly, to slow
music_.

_The S.-M._ (_after deep cogitation_). This must be referred to the N.U.R.

[_Enter suddenly, R. and L., dancing, the Central Executive Committee
of the N.U.R. There is thunder and lightning._ PAVLOVA _repeats her
appeal. The_ C.E.C. _confabulate. The_ Chairman _finally announces
that the thing is entirely contrary to the principles of their Union,
and if the_ Station-master _permits it he must take the consequences.
The_ C.E.C. _disappear_.

_The S.-M._ What about it, Bill?

_Porter._ We'll do it. (_He dances._) Here goes, Mum.

[_Enter, suddenly, chorus of porters with multi-coloured trucks.
(They are the same as the_ C.E.C. _really, but they have changed
their clothes.) Aided by the_ S.-M. _and_ Bill _they remove the
three hundred and eighty-five packages, and wheel them, walking on
their toes, to the station exit, R. Here is seen a taxicab whose
driver is wrapped in profound meditation and smoking a hookah, the
bowl of which rests on the pavement. It is re