my 'and.

_The Sceptic_ (_pityingly_). There you go again, yer see--that
stick ain't the point. _I_ can see the stick. A stick ain't a
phenomena--you're confusin' two different things. Now I'm goin' to
offer you a fair challenge. You perdooce me a Spirit--not in a back
room, with the lights out, but _'ere_, in broad daylight, in this
Park--you get that Spirit to naturalise itself, or whatever you call
it, and I'll _believe_ in 'im. Come, now!

_A Bystander_. Ah, that's the way to corner _'is_ sort. 'E knows 'e
carn't _do_ it!

_The Spiritualist_ (_with a smile of sad superiority_). Ridicule ain't
argyment. [_The discussion continues._

_The Young Socialist_. Don't tork to me of Patriotism! What have the
likes of you and me got to be patriotic about? I'm a Universalist, I
am, and so long as a man rallies round our glorious Red Flag (_here he
waves a dingy scarlet rag on a stick_), it's all one to me whether his
own colour is black, yeller, green, brown, _or_ white!

[_Applause._

_Reciter Number One_ (_in the midst of a thrilling prose narrative
about a certain_ "'ARRY," _who has apparently got into legal
difficulties for having thrown a cocoa-nut stick at a retired
Colonel_). Well, I went into the Court 'ouse, and there, sure enough,
was my pore mate 'ARRY in the dock, and there was hold Ginger-whiskers
(_laughter_) a setting on the bench along with the hother beaks,