Paggy: Here’s health, wealth and unity.
As soon as they had swallowed the wine they put down the cups, breathed deeply, turned, rushed at the central door, beat upon it with all their strength singing “O come let’s kick the door in,” to the tune of Adeste, Fideles. At the second stanza they changed the words to “Let’s fling the table through the doorway,” seized one of the tables and prepared to do as the song bade. The waiter interfered with “Ho, Señores, that, no. The tables, no. The song, yes, but not to break the tables.”
Crockums: What do you want, steward?
Paggy: He wants to be paid for his vinos.
Crockums: How much for your vinos? Combien de money?
The waiter: Tres pesetas.
Crockums: Tres pese . . . ? tres pesetas?
The waiter: Si quiere usted.
Crockums: Who the hell are you calling a keeairy usted? Hold my coat, Paggy. I’ll have this blighter’s blood.
Here Huskisson interfered again, saying that the waiter had only said, “If you please.”