_C._ It's easy to see you ain't bin at it long, or you wouldn't take that interest in it. Much they thank you for takin' a interest, these bloated children of a pampered aristocracy! Why, they don't mind you and me more than the drugget under their feet. Even gutter kids have got manners enough to thank the Italian as plays the orgin for 'em to dance to. Are _we_ ever thanked? I arsk you. _P._ The Italian plays for nothing. We don't. _C._ There you go, redoocin' everything to coppers. You're arguin' beside the question, you are. Ever see a well-dressed kid give a orgin a penny without there was a monkey a-top of it? _I_ never did. If you chained a monkey to your pianner now, they might condescend to look at yer now and then--not unless. _P._ Well, you can't deny they're a nice-looking set of children here. Look at that one with the long hair, in the plush--like a little Princess, she is. _C._ And p'raps she ain't aware of it, either! Why, there's that little sister o' yours, that's got hair just as long, ah, and 'ud look as pretty too, if she'd a little more colour; but you can't have colour without capital. It's 'igh-feeding does it all, and money wrung from the working-classes, like you and me. _P._ I don't know what _you_ call yourself. I'm a professional, and see no shame in it. _C._ You can be as purfessional as you please, but you needn't be poor-spirited. Come on; pound away! Ain't you got a uglier worltz than that? AT SUPPER. _C._ I must say I ardly expected this--after the leminade. But you're eatin' nothin', young Pianner. (_To Servant._) Thank 'ee, my pretty dear, you may leave that raised pie where it is; and do you think you could get us another bottle o' Sham, now--for my young friend here? (_To Pianist._ You needn't think you've made a conquest with that moony mug of yours. She's only lookin' after you to make _me_ jealous, d'ye see? I know these minxes' ways, bless you.) _P. (with lofty bitterness)._ I've no wish to dispute it with you. _C._ Ah, you've had _your_ eye on the governess all the evening. I saw you! _P. (blushing)._ You're talking folly, Cornet, and what's more, you know it. _C._ That's her playin' upstairs now. I know a governess's polker--all tum-tum and no jump to it. Wouldn't you like to go up and help her, eh? _P._ If I _am_ a wretch doomed to misery, it's not for you to remind me of it, Cornet. It's not a friendly act, I'm blowed if it is! _C._ You're a regular Tant--Tarantulus, you know, that's what you are! You'll be goin' mad on your music-stool--"I saw her dancin' in the 'All"--that sort o' thing, hey? _P. (with dignity.)_ It seems to me you've had quite enough of that Champagne, and we've been down half-an-hour. _C._ You don't 'pear to unnerstand that a Cornet's very mush thirstier instrumen' than a iron-grand out o' tune--but you're a good young feller--I li' a shentimental young chap. I'm a soft-arted ole fool myshelf! AFTER SUPPER.