Mr. L.-B. That'sh more'n I can tell you; it wash very dirty, at any rate, and he only gave fifty guineash for it. Wasn't a great shum——
First Comm. (encouraged by his affability). No, indeed; a mere nothing, so to speak, Sir!
Mr. L.-B. (annoyed). Will you have the goodnesh to lemme finish what I was telling thish gentleman? When my poo' father got that busht home, it was the mos' perfect likenesh o' Napoleon!
"They haven't the patiensh for it."
Mr. Milb. Ha! puts me in mind of the old story of the man who picked up a dingy panel somewhere or other, took it home, cleaned it, and found a genuine Morland; went on cleaning and discovered an undoubted Rembrandt; cleaned that, and came to a Crivelli; couldn't stop, kept on cleaning, and was rewarded by a portrait of George the Fourth!
First Comm. (deeply impressed). And all of them genuine? How very extraordinary, to be sure!