n my bath-room--with the chill off.

[_Wraps his towel round his neck._

_First Ditto_. (_Sings again, tremolo_):--
Why linger shivering on the brink,
And fear to launch away?

_Second Ditto_ (_sharply_). Why, you're at it again, ARTHUR! And a
Conventicler's hymn, too, this time. I'm a-a-shamed of you.

_First Ditto_. Ah! that's what LABOUCHERE, O'KELLY, CONYBEARE, and
Company say! _I_ don't mind; in fact, as I told 'em, I rather like it.
Does me a world of good.

_Second Ditto_ (_admiringly_). Ah! you _have_ got a nerve, ARTHUR. I
_will_ say that for you. Still, you've been giving them something to
"guy" you about lately, you know.

_First Ditto_ (_sharply_). Ah! have I? Well, "I can assure you that
I am the last person in the world to object to a process from which I
have profited so much."

_Second Ditto_. Oh, yes, that was all very well for them, over yonder.
In fact, I own it was rather neatly put.

_First Ditto_ (_slily_). Didn't "lack finish," was sufficiently "_ad
unguem_," eh, Nunky?

_Second Ditto_ (_moodily_). Ah! what do you youngsters know about
those fine old fighting days? I didn't love DIZZY, but he was a neat
hand with the foils, boy.

_First Ditto_. Especially in a bout with a friend,--with the buttons
off. But I say, this isn't bathing, you know!

_Second Ditto_. No. (_Eyeing the stream distastefully._) Hadn't
we better postpone the pleasure till a little later in the season,
ARTHUR. When those "Spring's delights" of which you melodiously
twangle are a leetle more _en evidence_.

_First Ditto_ (_pipes_). Hawthorn buds give joyful tidings.
Welcome, youths, 'tis bright bath-day!

_Second Ditto_. Ah! if we're here to do the Eclogue business, STREPHON
can take his turn, as well as CORYDON. [_Sings._
Let us plunge into the ri-i-i-v-e-e-r!
Leave our vesture on the bank!

_First Ditto_. Bless me, STREPHON, how you shi-i-v-e-e-r!

_Second Ditto_. 'Tis like a fishmonger's tank!

_First Ditto_. Pooh! 'tis lovely--when you're in it;
One bold header, and 'tis done!

_Second Ditto_. Ah, quite so, but--wait a minute,
Till I've warmed me with a run.
That will stir my circulation;
For the moment I am "friz."

_First Ditto_. _Magnifique!_ my dear relation;
But, you'll own, it is not "biz."

_Both_. We must o-o-o-ow-n it is not "biz!"

_Second Ditto_. Well, no, I suppose it isn't, ARTHUR. By the