- The Major: You'd never think it, would you?
- Bartender: Think what, sir?
- The Major: Well, they... They all seem to have contracted the dreadful affliction.
- Bartender: What affliction, sir?
- The Major: Spondulicks. Oh, a most pernicious disease. The natives used to get in in their bazaars.
- Bartender: A very nasty place to get it, sir.
- The Major: The worst, yes. They used to go mad and bite dogs. We had to shoot them.
- Bartender: Really?
- The Major: Yes. Sometimes we had to shoot the dogs, as well.
- Bartender: Were they mad?
- The Major: Well, they weren't very pleased about it, you know.