(Exit Bill-sticker.)
Manager.—Well! management does not seem so smooth, after all: one meets with vexations now and then, I fear. Oh! who comes now?
(Enter Queershanks.)
Manager.—Your pleasure, sir?
Queershanks.—My name is Queershanks. You have built a theatre, have you not?
Manager.—I have, sir.
Queershanks.—Very good: then you will want a model.
Manager.—A model after it is built?
Queershanks.—Certainly: but not a model of a theatre; a model of a man.
Manager.—What for, sir?