“Dost, then, desire the plucking of another goose?”
Doctor.—“By George, she’s right there with the grease, isn’t she?”
Patience.—“Enough to baste the last upon the spit.”
Doctor.—“Well, that’s quick wit for you. Pretty hard to catch her.”
Patience.—“The salt of today will not serve to catch the bird of tomorrow.”
Doctor.—“She’d better call herself the bird of yesterday. I wonder what kind of a mind she had, anyway.”
Patience.—“Dost crave to taste the sauce?”
Doctor.—“She holds to her simile of the goose. I wish you’d ask her how she makes that little table move under your hands to spell the words.”
Patience.—“A wise cook telleth not the brew.”
Doctor.—“Turn that board over and let me see what’s under it.”