Excursionists (impatiently). Now then, what's this? What are we stopping here for?

The Driver. Ladies and Gentlemen, you will thoroughly understand that it is customary for the car to stop here, in order that the party may be photographed, thus providing an agreeable souvenir of the trip, and a useful means of identification at Scotland Yard. (A Photographer appears in the road with a camera, and the party prepare themselves for perpetuation in a pleased flutter.) P'raps, Sir—(to a Mild Man on the box-seat)—you'd like to be taken 'andling the ribbons? Most of our Gentlemen do.

A Timid Lady (behind). I do hope no Gentleman will take the reins, unless he is thoroughly accustomed to driving four-in-hand. Suppose they took it into their heads to run away suddenly!

Driver (solemnly). Don't you alarm yourself about that, Ma'am, in the very slightest degree. These 'osses take that pride in themselves, they'd stop here all day rather than spoil their own likenesses!

Photographer. Now, steady all, please, those at the further ends of the seats stand up so as to come into the picture, a little more to the right, please, the gentleman in the straw 'at, turn your 'ead a trifle more towards the camera, the lady in the pink shirt,—that's better. Better take off your spectacles, Sir. Now then—are you ready?

A Comic Exc. 'Old on a bit—I've a fly on my nose.

The Driver. On your left, Ladies and Gentlemen, you have the Prison—the cheapest Hotel in the Island for parties who intend making a protracted stay here. On our right we are now passing "Paradise." You will observe that someone has 'ung his 'at and coat up at the entrance, not being certain of getting in. Notice the tree in front—the finest specimen on the island of the good old Guernsey hoak.

The Timid Lady. I wish he wouldn't talk so much, and look more where he is going—we're much too near the hedge!

Driver (standing up, and turning his back on the horses, as they trot on). Ladies and Gentlemen, you will all thoroughly understand that the roads in this Island are narrow. Consequently, you must look after the branches and briars yourselves. I've enough to do to look after my 'orses, I assure you, and it looks bad to see 'ats and bonnets decorating the 'edges after the car has passed. (Some of the Excursionists look at one another uneasily.) The glass-'ouses you see in such quantities, are employed in the production of early grapes and tomators for the London Market. This Island alone exports annually—

The Mild Man (with a Mild Man's thirst for information). What are those buildings over there with the chimney?

Driver (rising as before). Those buildings, Ladies and Gentlemen, are Chemical works for extracting iodine from seaweed. The seaweed, after being dried, is then boiled, and from the ash—

The M.M. (to himself, as he reads the message). "Keep the Driver quiet. He is drunk." Good Gracious! I never noticed—and yet—dear me, I hope they don't expect me to interfere!

The Timid Lady (to the Driver). For goodness sake never mind about iodine now—sit down and attend to your driving, like a good man!

Driver. You will thoroughly understand, my horses require no attention. (Sleepily.) No attention whatever. I assure you I am perfectly competent to drive this car and give you information going along at the same time. (The car takes another corner rather abruptly.) Simply matter of habit. (Gravely.) Matter'f habit!

A Serious Exc. (in an undertone.) A very bad habit, I'm afraid. It's really time somebody else took the reins from him!

The M.M. (overhearing). I'm afraid they mean me—I wish now I'd never touched the reins at all!

Driver. The Church we are now coming to, is St. Martin's, built in the year eleven 'undred.

A Female Exc. (critically). It has got an old-fashioned look about it, certainly.

A Male Exc. There's nothing to see inside of these old churches. I went in one the other day, and I was looking up at the rafters, and I saw a sort o' picture there, and I said, "Ullo—they've been advertising Pears' Soap here, or something." But when I looked again, it was only an old fresco. I was so little interested I walked out without tipping the Verger!

The Female Exc. That Church we went to on Sunday evening is very old.

Her Comp. Is it? How do you know?

The F.E. Why, my dress was