the one, travelling salesman of blighting corrosive laughter, and the
other, brainless ambassador of Fashion, their mission to kill among us
love and labour, the first by persiflage, the second by display,--they
have brought to us, even here in our peaceful sunny corner, the two
pests, the saddest in the world, the jest which insists on being funny
at any cost, and the cry which insists on being the latest scream! [_The
_ BLACKBIRD _is heard tentatively whistling, "How sweet to fare
afield"._] You, Cock, who had the sense to prefer the grain of true
wheat to the pearl, how can you allow yourself to be taken in by that
villainous Blackbird! A bird who practises a tune!

CHANTECLER
[_Indulgently._] Come, he whistles his tune like many another!

PATOU
[_Unwillingly agreeing, in a drawling growl._] Ye-e-es, but he never
whistles it to the end!

CHANTECLER
[_Watching the_ BLACKBIRD _hopping about._] A light-hearted fellow!

PATOU
[_Same business._] Ye-e-es, but he lies heavy on our hearts. A bird who
takes his exercise indoors!

CHANTECLER
You must own he is intelligent!

PATOU
[_In a longer, more hesitant growl._] Ye-e-e-es! But not so very! For