chance? Fair makes me rasp, him and his bloomin' eight hundred and
seventy-five o' goblins a week."

"Not so much of your eight hundred and seventy-five, young feller me
lad," said the Zouave who had spoken first. "Ain't you seen the rag
this week?"

"Naow. What's in it? How does our advert, look?"

"Ow, that's all right, never mind that. You look at 'What the
_Encore_ Would Like to Know.' That's what'll touch his nibs up."

He produced a copy of the paper from the pocket of his great-coat which
hung from the door, and passed it to his bounding brother.

"Read it out, old sort," he said.

The other took it to the light and began to read slowly and cautiously,
as one who is no expert at the art.

"'What the _Encore_ would like to know:--Whether Prince Otto of
Saxe-Pfennig didn't go particularly big at the Lobelia last week? And
Whether his success hasn't compelled Agent Quhayne to purchase a
larger-sized hat? And Whether it isn't a fact that, though they are
press-agented at the same figure, Prince Otto is getting fifty a week
more than Grand Duke Vodkakoff? And If it is not so, why a little bird
has assured us that the Prince is being paid five hundred a week and
the Grand Duke only four hundred and fifty? And, In any case, whether
the Prince isn't worth fifty a week more than his Russian friend?'
Lumme!"