Comediettas and Farces

by John Maddison Morton

COX. Then, how is it that—

MRS. B. Why—I suppose—yes—that must be it—

COX. At present I am entirely of your opinion—because I haven’t the most distant particle of an idea what you mean.

MRS. B. Why, the gentleman who has got the attics is hardly ever without a pipe in his mouth—and there he sits, with his feet upon the mantle-piece—

COX. The mantle-piece! That strikes me as being a considerable stretch, either of your imagination, Mrs. B., or the gentleman’s legs. I presume you mean the fender or the hob.

MRS. B. Sometimes one, sometimes t’other. Well, there he sits for hours, and puffs away into the fireplace.

COX. Ah, then you mean to say that this gentleman’s smoke, instead of emulating the example of all other sorts of smoke, and going up the chimney, thinks proper to effect a singularity by taking the contrary direction?

MRS. B. Why—

COX. Then, I suppose, the gentleman you are speaking of is the same individual that I invariably meet coming up-stairs when I’m going down, and going down-stairs when I’m coming up!