_
_Horatia_ (_acidly_). It may be so, AUGUSTUS, when we _do_ have it. At
present we have been sitting here fifteen minutes, and had nothing but
fresh air and small flies, and, as I don't pretend to be a Chameleon
myself, why-- [_She fans herself vigorously._
_Augustus_. Well, you know, my dear, we were warned that the trout
_en papillotes_ might take some little time. I suppose (_with mild
Jocularity_)--it's a fashionable fish--wants to come in with a "little
head sunning over with curls," as the poet says.
_Horatia_. Please don't make jokes of that sort--unless you wish to
destroy the little appetite I have left!
_Augustus_ (_penitently_). Never mind--I won't do it again. Here 's
our Waiter at last. _Now_ we're all right! [_The_ Waiter _puts a dish
down upon another table, and advances with the air of a family friend
who brings bad tidings._
_Horatia_. Will you kindly let us have that trout at once?
_The Waiter_ (_bending down to_ AUGUSTUS _with pity and sympathy_).
Fery sory to dell you, esbecially after keebin you so long vaiting,
bot (_thinks how he can break it most gently_) ve haf zo many beople
hier to-day, and zey haf shust dold me in ze gitchen zere is no more
drout.
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