"I'm glad to hear you say so, because I was going to suggest it myself. It's my belief that I should be a devilish funny fellow if I had a chance. I've just tried a few jokes on myself upstairs, and I've been simply roaring with laughter. Haven't enjoyed myself so much for years."
"Splendid fellow!" I said heartily; "you shall tell them to me later on and I'll roar with laughter too. Cecilia, put your husband down for the funny man."
"H'm—humourist," corrected John with a slight cough.
"'Humourist,'" I agreed; "and thank goodness that's settled."
"But," said Cecilia, "you said you were going to do a dramatic recitation."
"So I am, so I am," said John; "I'm going to do that as well. Contrast, my dear Cecilia. Laughter and tears. Double them up with sly wit one moment and have them sobbing into their handkerchiefs the next. I'm going to do it all, Cecilia."
"So it appears," said Cecilia; "it hardly seems worth while to have anybody else in the show."
"Now, now," said John, wagging his forefinger at her, "no jealousy. You ought to be glad to have someone really good in the party. Good funny men aren't to be found just anywhere."
"But we don't know that you are a good funny man," said Margery.