THE BATTALION.
7
Mr. Preston—Yes, they declared it could not be ready
before nine. The clerk assured me that none of the gmests
could ever be induced to get up to an earlier breakfast.
Grace Dudley—And we had been traveling all night,
and were so hungry and tired!
Miss Julia Winstanley (to Mrs. Courtenay)—It’s lucky
you came with us as a chaperone, Cousin Livy. It would
have been just awful to have had to stay in our rooms
waiting for breakfast three mortal hours!
Miss Euphemia Dudley—Grace and I have been long
ing for a bath in the surf ever since we caught sight of
the sea. And I declare I haven’t got the railroad dust
out of my eyes yet.
Grace—But why is Cousin Robert so silent?
Mrs. Courtenay—Yes, Mr. Pritchard hasn’t said a
word since the hotel clerk gave us his ultimatum.
Mr. Preston—What is the matter with you, Bob?
Mr. Pritchard—Hungry!
All—Poor fellow!
Miss Julia—But why doesn’t the waiter come to take
our orders?
Mr. Pritchard—Asleep.
Mr. Preston—He must be, or — drunk. I’ve been
drumming away for the last minute on this table to make
him hear, and I can rouse no one.
Miss Euphemia—Let us all drum.
[They make a prodigious noise, hammering on the
table and floor with canes, parasols, and a stray knife
or fork.]
Mr. Preston—Bless my soul, not a sound from the