Sorry your Roman nose is
out of joint; but nobody proposed you, you know, so shut up. Gentlemen--"
"Hear, hear!"
"Biffen's are cock-house at last" (deafening cheers) "and we must make our
concert a stunner. It must go with a bang from start to finish. It must
lick every other fag's concert that ever was, and 'be the bright harbinger
of--' What is the rest of the quote, Wilson?"
"'Of future joys,' you ass."
"'Of future joys,' you asses."
"I'll punch your head, Grim; you said you remembered it."
"All serene, old man, never mind the cackle."
"What about our concert?" asked Brown.
"It's going to be great. Does any one happen to have a programme of that
awful performance of Corker's house last year?"
"Rather!" said half a dozen of Biffen's ornaments. "Did you think we'd
burn a curiosity like that?"
"Cut out and get yours, Rogers, my pet."
"My pet" bolted and came back with the year-old programme of the Corker's
fags.
"Pass the abomination this way, Rogers. Gentlemen," said Grim, with
intense scorn, "those unspeakable Corker asses started off with a
prologue."
"We must go one better--eh, you fellows?" said Rogers.
"Rather!" they all shrieked.
"I vote," said young Cherry, "that we lead off with an epilogue. That will
leave 'em standing."
"Hear, hear!" said Fruity.
"Who'll second that?" said Grim.
"I will," said Rogers, cheerfully.
"Then do it, you ass," said the chairman.
"I second," said Rogers, hurriedly, "and you needn't be so beastly strict,
Grim.
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