_Dick_. Well, _that's_ settled--but I say, STELLA, where's my Mutton's
moorings--and what's to be the course?
_Stella_. The course is straight up the Avenue from the Lodge to the
House, and I've told them to get all the beasts down there ready for
us; so we'd better go at once.
THE START.
_The Competitors_. STELLA, my dear, _mustn't_ Miss GRISSELL tell her
kitten not to claw my Tortoise's head every time he pokes his poor
nose out? It isn't fair, and it's damping all his enthusiasm!... Now,
Colonel KEMPTON, it isn't the Puppy's fault--you _know_ your Rabbit
began it!... Hi, STELLA, hold on a bit, my Mutton wants to lie down.
Mayn't I kick it up!... DUFF, old chap, your Goose is dragging her
anchor again, back her engines a bit, or there'll be a foul.... Miss
STELLA, I--I really _don't_ think this Monkey is quite well--his teeth
are chattering in such a _very_.... All right, _padre_, only his nasty
temper--jerk the beggar's chain. More than _that_!
_Chorus of Spectators at Lodge Gates_. My word, I wonder what next the
gentry'll be up to, I dew.
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