Waiter:
Pardon, you, you uh rang sir?
Egbert Fitzgerald:
Who me? Well, my dear fellow, what is there here to ring with?
Waiter:
Pardon sir, that's just a figure of speech.
Egbert Fitzgerald:
Oh, oh. Uhuh. Well, bring me a... let me have a... eh, there there. You see? Your figure of speech has made me forget entirely what I wanted.
Waiter:
Could it have been that you require crumpets?
Egbert Fitzgerald:
No no no, I never ring for crumpets.
Waiter:
Would you be the kind of man who would ring for a toasted scone, sir?
Egbert Fitzgerald:
Scone? Well, now uh, no. no. Try me again.
Waiter:
Well, then could you, could you imagine yourself with a hankering for a nice gooseberry tart?
Egbert Fitzgerald:
Oh what an acid thought. Please.
Waiter:
No crumpets. No scones. No gooseberry tart. Well that lands both of us in a cul-de-sac doesn't it, sir?
Egbert Fitzgerald:
Of course it does. I knew it would.
Waiter:
You know I hate to leave you like this. You torn with doubts and me with my duty undischarged.
Egbert Fitzgerald:
Oh well cheer up old man, cheer up. It will come to me.
Waiter:
Was it animal or vegetable sir?
Egbert Fitzgerald:
No.
Waiter:
Well that leaves us mineral doesn't it sir. Now sir, was it a bit of half and half, a noggin of ale, a pipkin of porter, a stoop of stout, or a beaker of beer?
Egbert Fitzgerald:
Tea.
Waiter:
Tea. Ha. Well isn't it a small world sir.
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