Gas. Pooh! pooh! nonsense! I only throw a light upon the abuses of it. (Pushes by O’Boozle).
O’Booz. Hollo! you had better mind what you are at with your Jacob, or I shall just— (Sounds rattle).
Gas. Come, come, silence your coffee-mill.
O’Booz. What I’ve got to say is this—yes, the matter of the business is this here:—Since you sprung up, my beat a’nt worth having—I havn’t had a broken head for these ten days past, and there’s no such thing as picking up a couple of sweethearts now—why there isn’t a dark corner in the whole parish.
Gas. No more there should be. Folks have been kept a little too long in the dark.
O’Booz. Have they.
Gas. But good night, for I suppose as how you won’t stand a drop o’ nothin’, old Bacon-face?
O’Booz. No, I suppose I von’t stand a drop of nothing! young Calf’s-head? (Exit Gas singing, “I’m saucy Jack” &c).
O’Booz. I think I’ve given him his change. Well I don’t see the use of kicking my heels about here,—people’s clocks can tell them the time, just as well as I can, I’m sure! and a great deal better, if they knew all! so I shall go into my box, after I’ve called the half-hour, and have a regular snooze. It looks damned cloudy too.
CHAUNT.