MANAGER.—I mean on what interest did you start?
PUNCH.—On self-interest, sir. The only great, patriotic, and noble feeling that a public man can entertain.
MANAGER.—Pardon me, Mr. Punch; I wish to know whether you have come in as a Whig or a Tory?
PUNCH.—As a Tory, decidedly, sir. I despise the base, rascally, paltry, beggarly, contemptible Whigs. I detest their policy, and—
THE DOG TOBY.—Bow, wow, wough, wough!
MANAGER.—Hollo! Mr. Punch, what are you saying? I understood you were always a staunch Whig, and a supporter of the present Government.
PUNCH.—So I was, sir. I supported the Whigs as long as they supported themselves; but now that the old house is coming down about their ears, I turn my back on them in virtuous indignation, and take my seat in the opposition ‘bus.
MANAGER.—-But where is your patriotism, Mr. Punch?
PUNCH.—Where every politician’s is, sir—in my breeches’ pocket.
MANAGER.—And your consistency, Mr. Punch?