CHIRPER (very quietly again). Oh, maddening thought!
JOGTROT. But follow my advice and you shall win her yet. Never leave her side! say all sorts of tender things to her. By-the-bye, have you brought her a bouquet? No! Then go and get one—the bigger the better. Go at once—recollect, the bigger the better (hurrying CHIRPER up stage, who goes out at C., shouting after him)—the bigger the better!
JOGTROT (coming down—then suddenly). By no means a bad idea of mine; at any rate, it’s well worth the trial! Surely this fire-eating captain must have some blemish—some small vice or other, I don’t care how small. I’ll undertake to stretch it as far as it will go! Here comes his servant; I may be able to squeeze something out of him.
Enter BLUNT at C., one of his cheeks very swollen.
JOGTROT (beckoning BLUNT). Here, my worthy creature! I wish to speak to you. (BLUNT touches his cap and advances.) A swollen face, I see! Toothache?
BLUNT. No, sir. I’ll tell you how it was. I makes a feint with my left (hitting out, JOGTROT skips back), when slap comes a right-hander straight from the elbow (hitting out again, JOGTROT skips back again), and catches me bang on the—
JOGTROT. Yes; yes! exactly; but tell me, have you been long with your gallant master?
BLUNT. Better than ten years, sir!
JOGTROT. The more to your credit, my fine fellow! here’s a sovereign (gives money).
BLUNT. Thankee, sir! (Aside.) What’s his little game, I wonder?