Exhib. Then it's mine in the next. Second Prize! Better'n Third, that, ain't it?
The Friend. They've got that down as Parton's too.
Exhib. Well, I thought some'ow as——this is him anyway. Look 'ere! First Prize! And deserves it, though I sez it myself!
Friend (not without a certain satisfaction). No—no, you're wrong again. I'll show you where you are. See. "Seven 'underd and five. W. Cropper. Buck. Ten months." That's you!
Exhib. (incredulously). That? that ain't never my cream buck! (The rabbit remains wrapt in meditation.) I'll soon show yer. (Blows in rabbit's face. Mutual recognition. Tableau.) It is my buck! And only 'ighly commended! (Recovering himself.) Well, I arsk you if he oughtn't to ha' done the other—him as they've given the First Prize to? Why, there ain't no comparison between them two rabbits!
The Cock (encouragingly). Crorky-rorky-roo!
The Friend (losing all further interest). Well, it's all chance like. Let's go and 'ave a look at them Lops.
Crowd of Admirers around pen containing gigantic gander.
First Admirer. That's Wilkinses' gander, that is.
Second Admirer. A fine-grown bird, I will say.