Servant. Mr. Tripes, sir.
Turnstile. Show him in. He comes, no doubt, to say that my election is arranged. A good, fat-headed, honest fellow.
Enter TRIPES.
Well Mr. Tripes, I’m glad to see you. Pray take a chair.
Tripes. We hoped to have seen you at the meeting yesterday, sir. Capital speech from Mr. Smooth. You know, of course, that Mr. Highway is a candidate; and Mr. MacLeech is talked of;—very sorry, indeed, you weren’t there.
Turnstile. A transit of Venus, Mr. Tripes, is a thing that does not happen every day. Besides, my friend, Stellini {284} from Palermo, is here; and I had promised to go with him to Greenwich.
Tripes. Almost a pity, sir, to call off your attention from such objects. But in the City we are men of business, you know,—plain, every-day people.
Turnstile. It was unlucky; but I could not help it. The committee, I hope, is by this time at work?
Tripes. It was just that, I called about. I wished to tell you myself how very sorry I am that I cannot be your chairman. But—my large family—press of business,—in short,—you must excuse me;—and, if I should be upon Mr. Smooth’s committee, I don’t well see how I can attend to both.
Turnstile. Smooth!—but he and I go together, you know,—at least, I understood it so.