_First Ditto_. Pooh! 'tis lovely--when you're in it; One bold header, and 'tis done! _Second Ditto_. Ah, quite so, but--wait a minute, Till I've warmed me with a run. That will stir my circulation; For the moment I am "friz." _First Ditto_. _Magnifique!_ my dear relation; But, you'll own, it is not "biz." _Both_. We must o-o-o-ow-n it is not "biz!" _Second Ditto_. Well, no, I suppose it isn't, ARTHUR. By the way, what's that row behind there? _First Ditto_. (_looking_). By Jove! it's that Gladstone gang! They've tracked us! (_Sings_)-- They're after us! They're after us! _We_'re the individuals they require. _Second Ditto_. (_sardonically_). What a lyric _répertoire_ you have, ARTHUR! Old English glee, Puritan psalmody. Music-hall song, all come equally well to you, it seems. But those roughs mean mischief, Nephew mine! [Illustration: SPRING TIME IN LEAP YEAR. SALISBURY. "DON'T YOU THINK, NEPHEW ARTHUR, WE'D BETTER _PLUNGE_--BEFORE WE'RE _PUSHED_?"] _First Ditto_. Doubtless! They always do. And they've done some lately, drat them! I say, wouldn't they like _to shove us in_, as they did the old witches, _to see if we can swim_? _Second Ditto_. By Jove! I shouldn't wonder if they tried. Don't you think, ARTHUR, (_valiantly_) it would be better, more manly, and more politic, perchance, _to plunge in than to be pushed_? _First Ditto_ (_drily_). Ah! just as the brave sheep-- "Committed suicide to save themselves from slaughter." _Second Ditto_. Oh, hang your quotations! Happy omen! 'Tis Leap Year, is it not? Just a leap; though, like DERBY's, it be "in the dark," and--well, _we shall know where we are, anyhow!_ _First Ditto_. Ah, just so; and that's something! [_Left considering._ * * * * * [Illustration: TEMPTATION. _Hairdresser_. "ANY _BAY-RUM_, SIR?" _Middy_. "THANK YOU--A--NO! NOT QUITE so EARLY IN THE MORNING--YOU KNOW!"] * * * * * "CLERK ME NO CLERKS." It seems Sir E.C., Q.C., likes The blatant, brazen, Boothian band, Admires "abstaining" zeal that strikes The biggest drum with boldest hand. He says, "You must not judge some others' case By tastes much more refined," less commonplace. Yet, as Sir EDWARD disagrees With those whose tastes he thus divined, It's manifestly clear he sees _His_ taste in music's not "refined." 'Twas written long ago by CHAUCER's pen, "The gretest clerkes ben not the wisest men." * * * * * "MY DEAR EYES! WHAT! SEE-USAN!"