R. A.-I. C. Siberia! They ought to be sent there! But aren't English coals good enough?
His Friend. Oh, yes, they're good enough. But then, you see, they're dear. That's the result of the last coal strike.
R. A.-I. C. Oh, I heard about that at Bangalore. Then how about your razors? I bought one yesterday in the Strand. If you believe me, I've only used it once and it's blunt already.
His Friend. "Made in Germany," no doubt. The trade's gone over there, they say.
R. A.-I. C. And boots, now. Why has the pair I got in the City a month ago split open in two places?
His Friend. That's the late boot strike. Cheap American goods have ousted the genuine British article.
R. A.-I. C. (meditatively). Ah—heard of the boot strike too at Bangalore. But I didn't find my bootmaker charged me any less than in the old days for 'em. Tell you what, there's only one thing that will save England.
His Friend. What's that?
R. A.-I. C. Why, a new kind of strike altogether. Why shouldn't the strikers strike striking? Eh?
His Friend. That never struck me.