Fra. And why just in the last fortnight?
Pet. Because, about a fortnight since, I carried him some money before.
Fra. From Mrs. Haller?
Pet. Ay, sure; who else, think you? Father's not such a fool. He says it is our bounden duty, as christians, to take care of our money, and not give any thing away, especially in summer; for then, says he, there's herbs and roots enough in conscience to satisfy all the reasonable hungry poor. But I say father's wrong, and Mrs. Haller's right.
Fra. Yes, yes.—But this Mrs. Haller seems a strange woman, Peter.
Pet. Ay, at times she is plaguy odd. Why, she'll sit, and cry you a whole day through, without any one's knowing why.—Ay, and yet, somehow or other, whenever she cries, I always cry too—without knowing why.
Fra. [To the Stranger.] Are you satisfied?
Stra. Rid me of that babbler.
Fra. Good day, Master Peter.
Pet. You're not going yet, are you?