Hyp. But you like water, too, don't you? (JIM admits this—in moderation.) Try this. (He gives him a tumbler of water.) Is that good water?
Jim (smacking his lips). That's good water enough, Sir.
Hyp. It's bad water—taste it again.
[JIM tastes, and ejects it with every symptom of extreme disapproval.
Jim's Friend. Try him with a drop o' Scotch in it—'e'll get it down!
Hyp. (to JIM). There is no water in that glass—it's full of sovereigns, don't you see? (JIM agrees that this is so, and testifies to his conviction by promptly emptying the contents of the glass into his trousers' pocket) What have you got in your pocket?
Jim (chuckling with satisfaction). Quids—golden sovereigns!
Hyp. Wake up! Now what do you find in your pocket—any sovereigns?
Jim (surprised). Sovereigns? No, Sir! (After putting his hand in his pocket, bringing it out dripping, and dolefully regarding the stream of water issuing from his leg.) More like water, Sir.
[He makes dismal efforts to dry himself, amidst roars of laughter.