ers.
You let me do everything!

_Miss Larkspur_. You never let any of us get a word in!

_Mr. Pushington_. Because you all talked at once, that was all. Now
then--"ill." I'll be a celebrated Doctor, and you all come to me one
by one, and say you're _ill_--see?

[_Attires himself for the role of a Physician in a
dressing-gown and an old yeomanry helmet._

_Mr. Whipster_ (_huffily_). Seems to me I may as well go and sit with
the audience--I'm no use _here_!

_Mr. Pushington_. Oh, yes, WHIPSTER, I want you to be my confidential
butler, and show the patients in.

[_Mr. W. accepts--with a view to showing PUSHINGTON that
other people can act as well as he._

AFTER THE SECOND SYLLABLE.

_Mr. Pushington_. Seemed to _drag_ a little, somehow! There was no
necessity for you to make all those long soliloquies, WHIPSTER. A
Doctor's confidential servant wouldn't chatter so much!

_Mr. Whipster_. You were so confoundedly solemn over it, I had to put
some fun in _somewhere_!

_Mr. P._ Well, you might have put it where someone could see it.
Nobody laughed.

_Professor Pollen_. I don't know, Mr. PUSHINGTON, why, when I was
describing my symptoms--which I can vouch for as scientifically
correct--you persisted in kicking my legs under the table--it was
unprofessional, Sir, and extremely painful!

_Mr. Pushington_. I was only trying to hint to you that as there were
a dozen other people to follow, it was time you cut the interview
short, Professor--that one syllable alone has taken nearly an hour.

_Miss Buckram_. If I had known the kind of questions you were going to
ask me, Mr. PUSHINGTON, I should certainly not have exposed myself to
them. I say no more, but I must positively decline to appear with you
again.

_Mr. Pushington_. Oh, but really, you know, in Charades one gets
carried away at times. I assure you, I hadn't the remotest (&c.,
&c.--_until Miss BUCKRAM is partly mollified_.) Now then--last
syllable. Look here, I'll be a regular impostor, don't you know, and
all of you come on and say what a liar I am. We ought to make that
screamingly funny!

AFTER THE THIRD SYLLABLE.

_Mr. Pushington_. Muddled? Of _course_ it was muddled--you all called
me a liar before I opened my mouth!

_The Rest_.--But you didn't seem to know how to begin, and we _had_ to
bring the Word in somehow.

_Pushington_. Bring it in?--but you needn't have let it _out_. There
was SETTEE there, shouting "liar" till he was bl