TALBOYS.
Chess—where's the board? Let us have a game.
NORTH.
Drafts—and you quote Anderson and the Shepherd Laddie.
TALBOYS.
Mr North, why so querulous?
NORTH.
Where was the Art of Criticism? Where Prose? Young Scotland owes all her Composition to me—buries me in the earth—and then claims inspiration from heaven. "How sharper than a Serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless Child!" Peter—Peterkin—Pym—Stretch—where are your lazinesses—clear decks.
"Away with Melancholy—
Nor doleful changes ring
On Life and human Folly,
But merrily, merrily sing—fal la!"
BULLER.