,
&c.--_until Miss BUCKRAM is partly mollified_.) Now then--last
syllable. Look here, I'll be a regular impostor, don't you know, and
all of you come on and say what a liar I am. We ought to make that
screamingly funny!
AFTER THE THIRD SYLLABLE.
_Mr. Pushington_. Muddled? Of _course_ it was muddled--you all called
me a liar before I opened my mouth!
_The Rest_.--But you didn't seem to know how to begin, and we _had_ to
bring the Word in somehow.
_Pushington_. Bring it in?--but you needn't have let it _out_. There
was SETTEE there, shouting "liar" till he was black in the face. We
must have looked a set of idiots from the front. I shan't go in again
(_muttering_). It's no use acting Charades with people who don't
understand it. There; settle the Word yourselves!
AFTER THE WORD. AMONG THE AUDIENCE.
_General Murmur_. What _can_ it be? Not _Turk_, I suppose, or
Magician?--Quarrelling?--Parnellite?--Impertinence? Shall we give it
up? No, they like us to guess, poor things; and besides, if we don't,
they'll do another; and it is getting _so_ late, and such a _long_
drive home.
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