PRESS. You can help me. What are your views?

LEMMY. [Putting down fiddle] Voos? Sit dahn!

[THE PRESS sits on the stool which LEMMY has vacated.]

The Press--my Muvver. Seventy-seven. She's a wonder; 'yn't yer, old
dear?

PRESS. Very happy to make your acquaintance, Ma'am. [He writes]
"Mrs. Lemmy, one of the veterans of industry----" By the way, I've
jest passed a lot of people following a coffin.


LEMMY. Centre o' the cyclone--cyse o' starvytion; you 'ad 'er in the
pyper this mornin'.

PRESS. Ah! yes! Tragic occurrence. [Looking at the trousers.] Hub
of the Sweated Industries just here. I especially want to get at the
heart----

MRS. L. 'Twasn't the 'eart, 'twas the stomach.

PRESS. [Writing] "Mrs. Lemmy goes straight to the point."

LEMMY. Mister, is it my voos or Muvver's yer want?

PRESS. Both.