The One Hundred Moonshees, Roctor-Proctors, Zadkiels, etc.
(Stirring slightly and opening their eyes.) Souffle! Souffle! (Great panniers of souffle are fed to them, and they relapse into slumber.)
The Fifty Dizzards
(Seeing they have the Moonshees partially awake.) Your Referendunces! Most worthy Referendunces! The Secretary of the Honorable Court desires to know is it ready to receive the first division of the assembled Battalions of Knowledge now about to report as to the present state and progress of the world? (A vast murmur of “Hee-haw!”—the 30th century expression of approval—passes over the assemblage. SHISHMASH HASH HASH executes four more hand-springs, lights gracefully on his back and slowly draws his toes up to his fingers, thus gradually assuming a standing position, and bows. The fifty Dizzards whistle between their teeth and beat the Moonshees vigorously with their feather-clubs. The Zanys rattle their wind-bags lustily. Fifty of the one hundred Moonshees awake and call for more souffle. Five hundred tons are at once distributed to the audience, and quiet is restored.)