But, Sir, he had the Election!
A RESULT OF BEING HOSPITABLE.
SCENE—Small, but Fashionable Club in West-End.
Algy. Waiter! bring me a brandy-and-soda. Don't feel up to the average to-day.
Hughie. Late last night?
Algy. Yes. Went to Mrs. CRAMMERLY's Dance, Prince's Gate. Goodness knows why I went! I don't think they'll get me there again in a hurry.
Charlie (waking up from arm-chair). Were you a victim too? I didn't see you there!
Algy. No. Because I probably left before you arrived. I had had enough of it in an hour, and came on here to supper; not before I had nearly poisoned myself with a concoction that old CRAMMERLY was asserting loudly, was an "'80 wine."
Charlie (laughing). Ah! my dear friend, I had been there before, and knew the ropes. Took pretty good care to steer clear of the wine, and got a chap to give me a whiskey-and-soda.