When Mark Twain and his T. G. were strolling along London’s streets, a month or so ago, they were puzzled by the alarming frequency with which the shrill “Pip-pip” and the melodious “Toot-a-loo” greeted their ears. Until Bram Stoker, the late Sir Henry Irving’s manager, came to their aid, the only solution they arrived at was that “Pip-pip” was Londonian for “There’s Mark Twain!” and that “Toot-a-loo!” meant “Yes; but where’s the Ascot Cup?”