Major MacBlarney.—"Oh! and if it's the Ingees you'd—"
Mr. Bullion (refilling Speck's pipe from Guy Bolding's exclusive tobacco-pouch, and interrupting the Major).—"India,—that's another matter; I don't object to that. War there,—rather good for the money market than otherwise."
Vivian.—"What news there, then?"
Mr. Bullion.—"Don't know; have n't got India stock."
Mr. Speck.—"Nor I either. The day for India is over, this is our India now." (Misses his tobacco-pipe; sees it in Bullion's mouth, and stares aghast. N. B. The pipe is not a clay dudeen, but a small meerschaum.— irreplaceable in Bushland.)
Pisistratus.—"Well, uncle, but I am at a loss to understand what new scheme you have in hand. Something benevolent, I am sure; something for your fellow-creatures,—for philanthropy and mankind?"
Mr. Bullion (starting).—"Why, young man, are you as green as all that?"
Pisistratus.—"I, sir? No; Heaven forbid! But my—" (Uncle Jack holds up his forefinger imploringly, and spills his tea over the pantaloons of his nephew!)
Pisistratus, wroth at the effect of the tea, and therefore obdurate to the sign of the forefinger, continues rapidly, "But my uncle is! Some Grand National-Imperial-Colonial-Anti-Monopoly—"
Uncle Jack.—"Pooh! pooh! What a droll boy it is!"