_Slowgoe._ When we left off calling the Pope an improper person in a scarlet garment. It’s the growin’ evil of the times, Mr Tickle, that we don’t respect old names. _Tickle._ We don’t. And yet Colonel Sibthorpe says the Pope--that is, his Scarletness--is as scarlet as ever he was. _Slowgoe._ It’s a great comfort to see that the Colonel spoke against the bill; but it passed the second reading for all that. _Tickle._ That’s the worst of it, and just reminds me of what I saw last Sunday. There was a nice old animal eating his thistle upon a common--as nice a cretur as ever drew a cart. Well, the Kingston train came smoking, whizzing, rumbling along; when, suddenly, the animal left his thistle, and, stretching his legs to take firmer hold of the ground, brayed and brayed at the train, as if he would bring the sky right down upon it; but, as you say of the bill, it passed for all that. _Tickle._ You’ve heard of the Pertection Peers o’ course? Heard what they’ve come to a resolution to do? _Slowgoe._ No--what? _Tickle._ Why, they’ve all met in the first-pair front of the _Morning Post_; and feelin’ that the country is ruined, they’ve resolved like patryots, as they are, to do nothin’. _Nosebag._ Shouldn’t wonder if they succeed. It’s a dreadful thing, though, for peers and lords, when they know a country’s done up for ever, to be obliged to live in the ruins. I wonder they don’t move. _Nutts._ Bless you! they can’t. The more rickety the country gets, the more they like it. Just as a woman loves her bandiest baby all the best. In their hearts they never was so fond of the British Lion as now, though Mr Tyler of the Zologicul Gardens wouldn’t give no price for him unless the Unicorn was thrown in with the bargain. Providence is very good to dukes and lords, for they do say this season grouse is perdigious plentiful. _Slowgoe._ I’m glad on it. For it’s my ’pinion that grouse and pheasants, and in fact all sorts of game, was only sent into the world for superior people. _Nutts._ Shouldn’t wonder; only it’s a pity they warn’t somehow ticketed. ’Twould have hindered much squabblin’. Agin; when Adam give their names to all the birds and beasts, he might have ’lotted ’em out into partic’lar folks that was to eat ’em--ven’son for lords, mutton for commons. _Tickle._ Might ha’ gone further than that, and have marked the very joints--sirlines for them as is respectable, and stickings for the poor. _Slowgoe._ I tell you what, Mr Nutts, if you talk of Adam in that way, you don’t shave me. I’ll not trust my throat to an infidel. _Mrs Nutts._ And that’s the way, Mr Nutts, you’ll drive everybody from the shop. At this time of day, what’s Adam to you? Look after your own family--Adam did, I’ve no doubt. _Slowgoe._ Talkin’ o’ the Pertectionists--I see they’ve had another dinner.