|Cox plays on the gridiron like a guitar.Box takes an opera hat and imitates the concertina.|
Box.
Have you read this month's Bradshaw, sir?
Cox.
No, sir—my wife wouldn't let me.
Box.
Your wife! Cox. That is—my intended wife.
Box.
Well that's the same thing! I congratulate you.
[shaking hands
Cox.
(with a deep sigh.) Thank ye. (seeing Box about to get up.) You needn't
disturb yourself, sir, she won't come here.
Box.
Oh I understand. You've got a snug little establishment of your own here—on the sly—cunning dog—(nudgingCox.)
Cox.
(drawing himself up) No such thing, sir—I repeat, sir, no such thing, sir: but my wife—I mean my intended wife happens to be the proprietor of a considerable number of bathing machines—
Box.
(suddenly.) Ha! Where?
[grasping Cox's arm.
Cox.
At a favorite watering place. How curious you are!
Box.
Not at all. Well?
Cox.
Consequently, in the bathing season—which luckily is rather a long one—we see but little of each other: but as that is now over, I am daily indulging in the expectation of being blessed with the sight of my beloved. (very seriously.) Are you married? Box. Me? Why—not exactly!
Cox.
Ah—a happy bachelor? Box. Why— not precisely!
Cox
Oh a— widower? Box. No— not absolutely!
Cox.
You'll excuse me, sir—but, at present, I don't exactly understand how you can help being one of the three.
Box.
Not help it? Cox. No, sir—not you, nor any other man alive!
Box.
Ah, that may be—but I'm not alive!
Cox.
(pushing back his chair.) You'll excuse me, sir—but I don't like joking upon such subjects.
Box.
But I am perfectly serious, sir, I've been defunct for the last three years!
Cox.
(shouting.) Will you be quiet, sir?
Box.
If you won't believe me, I'll refer you to a very large, numerous, and respectable circle of disconsolate friends.
Cox.
My very dear sir—my very dear sir—if there does exist any ingenious contrivance whereby a man on the eve of committing matrimony can leave this world, and yet stop in it, I shouldn't be sorry to know it.
Box.
Oh! then I presume I'm not to set you down as being frantically attached to your intended.
Cox.
Why not exactly: and yet, at present, I'm only aware of one obstacle to my doating upon her, and that is, that I can't abide her.
Box.
Then there's nothing more easy. Do as I did.
Cox.
(eagerly). I will! What is it? Box. Drown yourself!
Cox.
(shouting again.) Will you be quiet, sir? Box. Listen—
