Tiffles coughed twice for the idiot to stop, and was sagaciously obeyed.  “In behalf of Africa,” he remarked, “representing her, as I may say, on this occasion, I would beg leave to apologize to the learned gentleman for the poverty of her scenery, at this stage of the panorama.  If Africa had been aware of the learned gentleman’s preferences, she would, doubtless, have got up some stunning effects for him in places where now you see only a river, a sky, and a strip of green bank, all unadorned, precisely as they are.”

The exquisite irony of this retort pleased the audience, and elicited general though faint applause, and several cries of “Shut up, Skim!” “Got your match, old boy!” “Oh! let the man go on!” The last remark issued from the gentlemanly conductor, and fell with peculiar pleasure on Tiffles’s ears.

“One word more, and I am done,” resumed the lawyer, who was professionally calm amid scenes of disturbance.  “I only wish to elicit the truth.  Have you, and your artist (Mr. Chicory, I think you call him), or either of you, actually gone over the scenery here represented.  We wish to understand that point!”

“We have, both of us, gone over this scenery repeatedly.”  This was true, as both Tiffles and Patching, anticipating some such question, had stepped over the canvas back and forth, in rolling and unrolling it, several times.  “Is the eminent counsellor satisfied?”

“Oh! yes,” said C. Skimmerhorn, Esq., in a voice which signified that he knew the panorama was a humbug, but, unfortunately, couldn’t prove it.

One cough, and the panorama started again—­but a little too fast.  Tiffles stamped once, and the idiot reduced the speed, until it was too slow.  Two stamps brought it right.  The river soon disappeared in a swamp, where the alligators’ heads protruding above the water gave Tiffles an opportunity to describe several terrific combats which he had enjoyed with those pugnacious creatures.  This entertained the audience for several minutes.

“Have you no full views of alligators, sir?” asked a voice which Tiffles presumed, from its solemn inflection, to come from a clergyman.

“None at all, sir.  The African alligator persists in keeping out of sight.  You never see anything but his head—­except his tail, as represented here.”  Tiffles pointed with his wand to something that looked like the end of a fence rail sticking out of the water.  “True Art, sir, sacrifices effect for Truth.”

“Certainly, sir.  Truth is what we are all after,” replied the clergyman.  But there was an indefinable something in his voice that indicated a wish for more alligator—­much more.

The swamp ended in a dry jungle, interspersed with palm trees, elephants, lions, tigers, and serpents.  Tiffles counted upon interesting his audience here.  Snakes were first on the list.  Two heads, with expanded jaws and forked tongues, were looking at each other above the jungle, and two tails were interlocked, also above the jungle, a few feet off.  This conveyed the idea of two boa constrictors fighting.  Other heads and other tails—­there was always a tail for every head—­stuck up at regular intervals about.  He stopped the panorama with a cough, and said: