MRS. M. I’ve told you a hundred times, Marmaduke, that you haven’t a single note in your voice.
MOUS. Then the more creditable in your Marmaduke to try and get a few. (in a solemn tone) Anastasia, we live in a wonderful age. Every thing we see above us, below us, and all round about us, proclaims the triumph of mind over matter.
MRS. M. (yawns slightly) Well, I don’t deny it, do I?
MOUS. You can’t deny it. Look at the Railroads—oblige me by looking at the Railroads, with their gigantic viaducts, their stupendous aqueducts—look at the Electric Telegraph over the Straits of Menai—look at the Tubular Bridge under the Straits of Dover! And how—how is this done? By perseverance—by determination! And shall I flinch from a paltry obstacle? Never! So here goes again! (very loud) “Ya—oo—oo!”
MRS. M. (listening) Hark!
MOUS. What?
MRS. M. I thought I heard my dear Cousin Crummy outside. But of course that would give you no gratification.
MOUS. You wrong me, Anastasia. As long as your Cousin Crummy is outside, and keeps outside, I don’t care how often I hear him.
MRS. M. (severely) Mr. Mouser!
MOUS. Understand me, Anastasia, I mean no disrespect to your Cousin Crummy—on the contrary, Crummy’s a man I like—but Crummy’s like many other good things in this world, a little of him goes a long way. In short, he gives us too much of his society.