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 Out o’ your coat!SoOff you come, Ratchet, ’scapement, an’ pendulum―

(Taking clock to pieces.)

An’ there’s your power a-actin’—See?— Your jolly mind!

There’s somethin’ still A-wantin’, though, an’ that's your Will! No good keepin’ no mutton warm For brain an’ body as don’t perform, Is it? No call to worry, though— This cowbanger’s runnin’ the show!

Now comes the cream.... Old fire all right? Seraphim! ain’t you quick an’ bright? Everythin’s kind o’ kind, to-night.

(Taking soldering-iron.)

You run an’ see your friend the fire, An’—Where’s that bit o’ fencin’-wire?

(Produces some from inside his boot, and untwists it.)

While that’s a-heatin’, here, let’s look Back in that idiot table-book. —“Twice 3 is 6, twice 4, 8, twice—” Left out poor 7? That ain’t nice— Oh,—right down here! “Twice 7’s 14.” Well, fourteen what, though? Inches? come! Or feet? Or fingers, eh? by gum! Why can’t you spit out what you mean?

(Turning over pages.)