EXCHANGE NO ROBBERY.
A Sardonic Loafer. 'Ullo, 'ere's a 'aughty one! layin' back and puttin' up 'er glorses! Know us agen, Mum, won't you? You may well look—you ain't seen so much in yer ole life as what you're seein' to-day, I'll lay! Ah, you ought to feel honoured, too, all of us comin' out to look at yer. Drored 'er blind down, this one 'as, yer see—knew she wasn't wuth looking at!
[A carriage passes; the footman on the box is adorned by an enormous nosegay, over which he can just see.
First Comic Cockney. Ow, I s'y—you 'ave come out in bloom, Johnny!
Second C. C. Ah, they've bin forcin' 'im under glorse, they'ave! 'Is Missis 'll never find 'im under all them flowers. Ow, 'e smoiled at me through the brornches!
[Another carriage passes, the coachman and footmen of which are undecorated.
First C. C. Shime!—they might ha' stood yer a penny bunch o' voilets between yer, that they might!
The Sardonic L. 'Ere 's a swell turn-out and no mistake—with a couple o' bloomin' beadles standin' be'ind! There's a full-fed 'un inside of it too,—look at the dimonds all over 'er bloomin' old nut. My eye! (The elderly dowager inside produces a cut-glass scent-bottle of goodly size.) Ah, she's got a drop o' the right sort in there—see her sniffin at it—it won't take 'er long to mop up that little lot!
Jeames (behind the carriage, to Chawles). Our old geeser's perdoocin' the custimary amount o' sensation, eh, Chawley?