Punch. Well, Miss Julia, I’m the proprietor. What do you wish?
Negress. What! Are you the proprietor?
Punch. Yes, I am.
Negress. Mr. Punch, I’m an opera singer, and I want to sing to the ladies and gentlemen here assembled.
Punch. You an uproar singer?
Negress. No, an opera.
Punch. Yes; I said an uproar singer.
Negress. Opera.
Punch. Yes, yes, an uproar.