Ike. ( Aside. ) Es shmokt graut os wee der tay! Phuy!
Dr. O, yaw! ( Yokle and Shwinefelt going through a dumb show as if conversing and figuring out a problem in arithmetic. )
Shwinefelt. Well, Dr., ich denk mer missa gay.
Ike. Duckter, mol do! Ich hob do so en wortzel. Waisht do wos forichy os es is! Ich glaub os des gute wair for der mawga. ( Aside. ) By sourkrout!
Dr. Wo husht’s grickt?
Ike. I, es woxt drous im bush. ( Dr. smells at it, looks at it, bites and tastes. )
Dr. Des is fon der wisa shlonga worzel.
Ike. ( Laughing and moving off. ) Ah, ha, ha, ha, ya, ha! Sis yo en gedarrter sei shwontz! He, ha, ya, ha, ho, ho, ho!—etc. ( Curtain descends. )
ACT II.
( Two years are supposed to have elapsed. Costumes should be changed as to be noticed. )