PUNCH.—Yes, yes; I’ve been making myself as hoarse as a hog, bawling to the free and independent electors of Grogswill all the morning. They have done me the honour to elect me as their representative in Parliament. I’m an M.P. now.
MANAGER.—An M.P.! Gammon, Mr. Punch.
THE DOG TOBY.—Bow, wow, wow, wough, wough!
PUNCH.—Fact, upon my honour. I’m at this moment an unit in the collective stupidity of the nation.
DOG TOBY.—R-r-r-r-r-r—wough—wough!
PUNCH.—Kick that dog, somebody. Hang the cur, did he never see a legislator before, that he barks at me so?
MANAGER.—A legislator, Mr. Punch? with that wooden head of yours! Ho! ho! ho! ho!
PUNCH.—My dear sir, I can assure you that wood is the material generally used in the manufacture of political puppets. There will be more blockheads than mine in St. Stephen’s, I can tell you. And as for oratory, why I flatter my whiskers I’ll astonish them in that line.
MANAGER.—But on what principles did you get into Parliament, Mr. Punch?
PUNCH.—I’d have you know, sir, I’m above having any principles but those that put money in my pocket.