PEEL.—(Rises and goes to the door, which he double locks; returns to his seat, and takes from his waistcoat pocket a small piece of ass’s skin.) I have jotted down a few names.
PUNCH.—And, I see, on very proper material. Read, Robert, read.
PEEL.—(In a mild voice and with a slight blush.)—“First Lord of the Treasury, and Chancellor of the Exchequer, Sir Robert Peel!”
PUNCH.—Of course. Well?
PEEL.—“First Lord of the Admiralty—Duke of Buckingham.”
PUNCH.—An excellent man for the Admiralty. He has been at sea in politics all his life.
PEEL.—“Secretary for Foreign Affairs—Earl of Aberdeen.”
PUNCH.—An admirable person for Foreign Affairs, especially if he transacted ’em in Sierra Leone. Proceed.
PEEL.—“Lord Lieutenant of Ireland—Lord Wharncliffe.”
PUNCH.—Nothing could be better. Wharncliffe in Ireland! You might as well appoint a red-hot poker to guard a powder magazine. Go on.