"How is the dessert to be served, Tommy?"
"I kiss Bessie," said Moore, exultantly. "Then comes your turn, Sherry."
"Ah!" said that gentleman, smacking his lips in anticipation.
"Then comes your turn, Sherry. You kiss Brummell."
The wit gave an exclamation of disappointment, while the rest of the party laughed heartily.
"Really, Tom," said the Beau, "this egg is delicious."
"Sure it is," replied his host. "We raised that one on the bottle, didn't we, Bessie?"
Meanwhile he had helped himself to another, and cracking the shell, turned away with an exclamation of disgust.
"Oh, Lord!" he exclaimed, holding his nose. "Bessie, I knew I ought to have hurried home with that egg if I wanted to eat it. Faith, it is too much a chicken to be an egg, and too much egg to be a chicken. Buster, accept this with my compliments."
Buster obediently carried away the cause of the trouble and stowed it outside on a corner of the window-sill, reserving it for use as ammunition at some future time.