Doctor. [Smiling.] And so, oddly enough, did I. But I suppose we should both like to get hold of him by a separate ear.
Smith. Oh, there's no disguise as far as I'm concerned. I've joined this league for starting a model public-house in the parish; and in plain words, I've come to ask his Grace for a subscription to it.
Doctor. [Grimly.] And, as it happens, I have joined in the petition against the erection of a model public-house in this parish. The similarity of our position grows with every instant.
Smith. Yes, I think we must have been twins.
Doctor. [More good-humouredly.] Well, what is a model public-house? Do you mean a toy?
Smith. I mean a place where Englishmen can get decent drink and drink it decently. Do you call that a toy?
Doctor. No; I should call that a conjuring trick. Or, in apology to your cloth, I will say a miracle.
Smith. I accept the apology to my cloth. I am doing my duty as a priest. How can the Church have a right to make men fast if she does not allow them to feast?
Doctor. [Bitterly.] And when you have done feasting them, you will send them to me to be cured.
Smith. Yes; and when you've done curing them you'll send them to me to be buried.