"Good for you, Jack! Well done! You'm funnier than anything that's gone afore!" cried Joe Voysey.
"So you be, for certain," added Mrs. Hacker.
"For all the world like my bob-tailed sheep-dog," declared Mr. Waite.
"Now I be going to sit up on my hams and scratch myself," explained Mr. Head; "then off I go again and have a sniff at Father Christmas. Then you ought to give me a plum pudding, Mr. Baskerville, and I balance it 'pon my nose."
"Well thought on!" declared Nathan. "So I will. 'Twill make the folk die of laughing to see you."
"Come on to the battle," said Dennis.
"Must be a sort of wraslin' fight," continued Head, "because the Bear's got nought but his paws. Then, I thought when I'd throwed St. George a fair back heel, he'd get up and draw his shining sword and stab me in the guts. Then I'd roar and roar, till the place fairly echoed round, and then I'd die in frightful agony."
"You ban't the whole play, Jack," said Mr. Gollop with much discontent. "You forget yourself, surely. You can't have the King of Egypt and these here other high characters all standing on the stage doing nought while you'm going through these here vagaries."
But Mr. Head stuck to his text.
"We'm here to make 'em laugh," he repeated with bulldog determination. "And I'll do it if mortal man can do it. Then, when I've took the doctor's stuff, up I gets again and goes on funnier than ever."