S._. We Soshalists 'ate the Tories as we 'ate sin. Why, young
polertician as I ham, &c., &c.
_The Spiritualist_ (_an elderly and earnest person_). All I can
reply to you is, we Spiritualists do not think--we _know_ that these
phenomena appear--yes, as surely as I know I am 'olding this stick in
my 'and.
_The Sceptic_ (_pityingly_). There you go again, yer see--that
stick ain't the point. _I_ can see the stick. A stick ain't a
phenomena--you're confusin' two different things. Now I'm goin' to
offer you a fair challenge. You perdooce me a Spirit--not in a back
room, with the lights out, but _'ere_, in broad daylight, in this
Park--you get that Spirit to naturalise itself, or whatever you call
it, and I'll _believe_ in 'im. Come, now!
_A Bystander_. Ah, that's the way to corner _'is_ sort. 'E knows 'e
carn't _do_ it!
_The Spiritualist_ (_with a smile of sad superiority_). Ridicule ain't
argyment. [_The discussion continues._
_The Young Socialist_. Don't tork to me of Patriotism! What have the
likes of you and me got to be patriotic about? I'm a Universalist, I
am, and so long as a man rallies round our glorious Red Flag (_here he
waves a dingy scarlet rag on a stick_), it's all one to me whether his
own colour is black, yeller, green, brown, _or_ white!
[_Applause.
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