Wiggins. Play?
Harry. Yes, play. Waiting for you, I entertained my friend, here, with an extract from my new play. Would you like to hear it again?
Wiggins. No, I thank you. Fooled again. Here’s a pretty kettle of fish. The Great Elixir exploded and its great inventor obliged to leave town by rail or on a rail. What shall I do? Mr. Greenbax,—you like my Elixir; don’t you?
Greenbax. Hey?
Wiggins. You like my Elixir; don’t you?
Greenbax. Oh, yes, I use it in my house.
Wiggins. You hear that, gentlemen?
Charley. What for, Mr. Greenbax?
Greenbax. To kill rats. It’s a dead shot.
Wiggins. But you like it, Mr. Aspen?