PRESS. [Smiling] Well, Mr. Lemmy, it has the biggest influ----
LEMMY. They all 'as that; dylies, weeklies, evenin's, Sundyes; but
it's of no consequence--my voos are open and aboveboard. Naow, wot
shall we begin abaht?
PRESS. Yourself, if you please. And I'd like you to know at once
that my paper wants the human note, the real heart-beat of things.
LEMMY. I see; sensytion! Well; 'ere am I--a fustclawss plumber's.
assistant--in a job to-dy an' out tomorrer. There's a 'eart-beat in
that, I tell yer. 'Oo knows wot the mower 'as for me!
PRESS. [Writing]. "The great human issue--Mr. Lemmy touches it at
once."
LEMMY. I sy keep my nyme aht o' this; I don' go in fer
self-advertisement.
PRESS. [Writing] "True working-man--modest as usual."
LEMMY. I daon't want to embarrass the Gover'ment. They're so
ticklish ever since they got the 'abit, war-time, o' mindin' wot
people said.
PRESS. Right-o!
LEMMY. For instance, suppose there's goin' to be a revolution----
[THE PRESS writes with energy.] 'Ow does it touch me? Like this: I
my go up--I cawn't come dahn; no more can Muvver.
MRS. L. [Surprisingly] Us all goes down into the grave.
PRESS. "Mrs. Lemmy interjects the deeper note."
LEMMY. Naow, the gryte--they can come dahn, but they cawn't go up!
See! Put two an' two together, an' that's 'ow it touches me. [He
utters a throaty laugh] 'Ave yer got that?
PRESS.
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