"Certainly."
"And the composition of the words are yours?"
"No, only touched up from the Griffin's original."
Mr. Dreadful, bellowing, stamping, and banging his hand upon table all at one and the same time—
"The wretched Griffin is left entirely out of this case, sir."
"It is a thousand pities; he would have enjoyed it so."
"My Lord, I will venture to read this fragment mercifully dropped in Court by the child confederate of this slippery witness: it is headed Chorus, my lord; it doubtless forms a last part to the ridiculous song we all listened to in pained surprise. I contend, my Lord, that this fragment which has come into my possession is seditious; seditious, my Lord."
"Well, well, let us hear it," his Lordship adding hastily: "No, no, don't sing it, read it."
"My Lord, your injunction to me is unnecessary; indeed, my Lord, I lack all training enabling me to sing, I am thankful to say, but what is more to the point, my Lord, I almost lack the necessary self-control to read these seditious words unmoved by indignation. However, my Lord, I will make an effort." Counsel reads: "'Oh, my poor tender feet.'" (Titters in Court.)
His Lordship. "Well, well, that is harmless enough, the Griffin complained of that, you remember."