REV. DR. FOLLIOTT. No, sir. Robbery, perhaps, comes of poverty,
but scientific principles of robbery come of education. I suppose
the learned friend has written a sixpenny treatise on mechanics,
and the rascals who robbed me have been reading it.

MR. CROTCHET. Your house would have been very safe, Doctor, if
they had had no better science than the learned friend's to work
with.

REV. DR. FOLLIOTT. Well, sir, that may be. Excellent potted char.
The Lord deliver me from the learned friend.

MR. CROTCHET. Well, Doctor, for your comfort, here is a
declaration of the learned friend's that he will never take office.

REV. DR. FOLLIOTT. Then, sir, he will be in office next week.
Peace be with him. Sugar and cream.

MR. CROTCHET. But, Doctor, are you for Chainmail Hall on Christmas
Day?

REV. DR. FOLLIOTT. That am I, for there will be an excellent
dinner, though, peradventure, grotesquely served.

MR. CROTCHET. I have not seen my neighbour since he left us on the
canal.

REV. DR. FOLLIOTT. He has married a wife, and brought her home.

LADY CLARINDA. Indeed! If she suits him, she must be an oddity: