_Owner of the dog (which, having gained its point, affects an air of
innocent detachment)._ I shall do nothing of the kind. It was the brutal
way you took hold of her. The _gentlest_ creature! Why, I've _had_ her
three years!
_Assistant._ I don't care if you've 'ad her a century. They're all
angels as come 'ere; but I ain't going to 'ave _my_ thumb bit by no
angels, so will you kindly walk out?
_Owner._ Without a muzzle? Never!
_Assistant._ Then I shall 'ave to call in a constable to make you. I'm
not bound to sell you nothing.
_Owner (with spirit). Call_ a constable then! _I_ don't care. Here I
stay till I get that muzzle.
_Assistant (giving up his idea of calling a constable)._ Then I should
advise you to take a chair, Mum, as we don't close till seven.
_Owner (retreating with dignity)._ All _I_ can say is that I call it
perfectly disgraceful. I shall certainly report your conduct; and I only
hope you won't sell a single other muzzle to-day!
_Assistant._ If I didn't I could bear up. _(To a lady with an elderly
Blenheim)_ If it's a muzzle, Mum--
_The Owner of the Blenheim_. That's just what I want to know. _Must_ he
have a muzzle? You see, he's got no teeth, so he couldn't possibly bite
anyone--now, _could_ he?
_Assistant.
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