The Loves of 'Arrie and 'Arriette.

Auckland Star, Volume XXII, Issue 139, 13 June 1891, Page 2 (Supplement)

The Loves of 'Arrie and 'Arriette.

The London • Star' gives the following aa the accurate descrition of an actual love passage between a Cockney maid and her admirer. Scene — The Crystal Palace, The sun is shining in through the glass roof. 'Arry and 'Arriette are seated in a remote part of bhe building. To bheir left a sbabue. To bheir righb a stabue. Behind bhem a sbabue. In fronb of bhem a sbatue. The blare of bassoons in the disbance. 'Arrie (wibh much sentiment) — ' Phew.' Stretches out his leg and pensively rubs the toe of one boot on the heel of the other. He whistles softly whilst 'Arriette coquetbishly fingers a large penny bcuqueb in the breasb of her jackeb. 'Arriette (languorously and with an arch look) —' Fine day, ain't it?' 'Arrie—• Yus.' Relapses into a tenderly expressive silence and looks around him. Forty or fifty couples, all endeavouring bo look gloriously happy,pass and repass in fronb of 'Arrie and 'Arriete. 'Arriette (peeling an orange and considerately strewing the floor wibh bhe peel) — ' Sab'day three weeks was a fine day. Me and Bill ' 'Arrie (with a sudden access of rage which leads to involuntary clenching of the fingers)—' Wot, Bill Smith . S'elp me ' 'Arriette (pleadingly, and offering 'Arrie a propitiatory piece of orange)— ' Don't be a Juggins, 'Arrie. Me an' Bill 'Arrie defiantly rams his hands into his pocket o , fixes his gloomy eyes upon the.left knee of the statue to the right, and mutters to himself. The sun shines bright-* than over. The bassoons blare out louder. Forty more travellers pass and repass. 'Arriette finishes peeling her orange. 'Arriette (in low and tender accents) — "Arrie, I like you bettern Bill.' 'Arrie (ostentatiously toying wibh his large German silver watch chain and looking ab 'Arriette out of bhe corner of his right eye) —'Gam,' 'Arriette (tenderly embracing him. wibh sublime conbempb for onlookers) —' Yus, I do.' 'Arrie (giving her a severe buc playful punch in bhe ribs)—' You're a liar.' 'Arriette (slowly getting back her breabh which bhe punch in the ribs had dispersed)—'l—l—l—l—ain't,'Arrie.' (Recoiling from him in sudden berror, dropping bhe remains of her orange.) don'b hib so 'ard. Yer 'urts me.' 'Arrie (in low, intense tones, while he prepares his fist for another punch)—' Tyke yer dyin oath?' 'Arriette (getting close again)— 'Yus.' 'Arrie (exultantly)—' Let sgo and 'aye a 'alf pint.' [Exeunt.]