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Various

"Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 101, July 4, 1891"

Zis hote vedder ze drout, he vill nod stay!
_Augustus_ (_mildly_). No, of course not--well, let me see, now, what
can you--?
_The E.A._ Here, you Kellner, come here, can't you? What the--
_Waiter_ (_to_ AUGUSTUS). Von minute. I gom back bresently. (_To_
E.A.) You vant your pill, Sir, yes?
_The E.A._ (_exploding_). My bill! Confound it! I want something to
eat first. When is that Bisque coming?
_Waiter_. Ach, peg your bardon, ve haf peen so pusy all day. Your
Bisque vill pe retty diregly. I go to vetch him. [_He goes._
_Horatia_. Now we're farther off from getting any food than ever! I
suppose you mean to do _something_, AUGUSTUS?
_Augustus_. Of course--certainly. I shall speak very strongly.
(_Bleating_.) Waiter!
_Horatia_ (_with scorn_). _Do_ you imagine they will pay the least
attention to a noise like a sixpenny toy? Lot them see you _insist_
upon being obeyed.
_Augustus_. I am--I mean, I will--I am very much annoyed.
(_Fiercely_.) Wa-ai-ter!
_A Stern Waiter_ (_appearing suddenly_.) You vant somsing, Sir?
_Augustus_ (_apologetically_).


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