NO SMOKING
A compartment in a first-class railway-carriage.
The Gentleman is seated alone when the curtain rises.
A Voice. [Outside] Three minutes! The train stops three minutes!
Another Voice. Water! Fresh water! Who wants water?
Another Voice. Here, girl! Water!
The Lady and the Young Lady enter.
Lady. Hurry up; it only stops a minute. I thought we'd die in that compartment. See if we have everything. One, two… Where's the basket? The basket!
Young Lady. Here it is, mamma.
Lady. Gracious! What a fright you did give me! The one thing, too, your aunt asked us to bring with us—She would always have insisted that we lost it on purpose.—Good afternoon.
Gentleman. Good afternoon. I beg your pardon, but as I was riding alone, although it says "No Smoking"…
Lady. For goodness' sake, don't stop upon our account! Smoke as much as you want to—it doesn't bother me, or my daughter, either. We are used to it. Her poor father, my first husband—who is now in glory—was never without a cigar in his mouth. As he bit off one, he lit it with the butt of the other. And my second husband—who now rests in peace—they were alike as two buttons; you could scarcely tell the difference. I had a difficulty at one time myself, a
