Mr. Cockcr. I'm with Sibbering there. The less fuss there is about it, the better Porpentine'll be pleased. My idea is to give him something of daily use—a useful thing, yi-know.
Mr. Balch. Useful or ornamental. Why not his own portrait? There's many an artist who would do him in oils, and guarantee a likeness, frame included, for a five-pound note.
Mr. Sibb. If it's to be like Porpentine, it certainly won't be ornamental, whatever else it is.
Mr. Filk. It can't be denied that he is remarkably plain in the face. We'd better, as our friend Mr. Cockcroft here proposes, make it something of daily use—a good serviceable silk umbrella now—that's always appropriate.
Mr. Sibb. To make up for the one he broke over the collector's head, eh?—that's appropriate enough!
Mr. Cockcr. No, no; you mean well, Filkins, but you must see yourself, on reflection, that there would be a certain want of—ah—good taste in giving him a thing like that under the circumstances. I should suggest something like a hatstand—a handsome one, of course. I happen to know that he has nothing in the passage at present but a row of pegs.
Mr. Sibb. I should have thought he'd been taken down enough pegs already.
Mr. Filk. (who resents the imputation upon his taste). I can't say what the width of Mr. Porpentine's passage may be, never having been privileged with an invitation to pass the threshold, but unless it's wider than ours is, he couldn't get a hatstand in if he tried, and if my friend Cockcroft will excuse the remark, I see no sense—to say nothing of good taste, about which perhaps I mayn't be qualified to pass an opinion—in giving him an article he's got no room for.
Mr. Cockcr. (with warmth). There's room enough in Porpentine's passage for a whole host of hatstands, if that's all, and I know what I'm speaking about. I've been in and out there often enough. I'm—ah—a regular tame cat in that house. But if you're against the 'atstand, I say no more—we'll waive it. How would it do if we gave him a nice comfortable easy-chair—something he could sit in of an evening, yi-know?
Mr. Sibb. A touchy chap like Porpentine would be sure to fancy we thought he wanted something soft after a hard bench and a plank bed—you can't go and give him furniture!