"Honestly now, old chap," I said, "and strictly between ourselves, do you ever sell any of the little beasts?"
His face lit up in a brilliant smile. "No, Sir," he replied, drawing himself up majestically and looking me squarely in the eye, "we keep these to show to inquisitive customers. We only sell white rats!"
I fled. As I crossed the interminable length of floor that separated me from the door I could feel that contemptuous smile rowelling my shrinking vertebræ. Halfway across, the Blue Himalyan guinea-pig could have given me three drachms and whipped me by sheer brute strength. As I sped towards the door an attendant opened it. It was unnecessary. I could easily have crept underneath it.
Algol.
Magistrate. "Do you want a lawyer to defend you?"
Prisoner. "Not particularly, Sir."
Magistrate. "Well, what do you propose to do about the case?"
Prisoner. "Oh, I'm quite willing to drop it as far as I'm concerned."