Hood. Whatever the merits of this quarrel may be, John Bull will soon observe that it don’t take three years to make a soldier on this side of the water.
Myers. Come, Brightly, as you and I have not quarrelled, let us have a whack at the national game. (Deals cards—they play.)
Brightly. Myers, you are the sauciest devil in Mobile.
Myers. Why?
Brightly. Because you are the best shot, I suppose.
Myers. Then Mobile tolerates me, does it?
Hood. It does.
Myers. Then suppose it should choose to do otherwise?
Hood. Some citizen would wring your nose and kick you out. (Myers springs to his feet, Brightly between.)
Brightly. Hold on, gentlemen. There’s time enough to settle this hash in the morning. (Pushes Myers to his chair.) Deal the cards.