“Of course,” Sid was heard to say, “you are an American, or ought to be. Hush up!”
Juggie now strode over the floor, an exiled broom-handle resting on his shoulder. Suddenly a step was heard. From the rear of a box crept out the governor. He wore a farmer’s dress, and was half smothered under his father’s tall hat.
“Advance!” shouted Juggie, “and gib de count—count—”
“Countersign!” whispered the prompter behind the barrel.
“Count-de-sign!” shouted Juggie, pompously, at the same time presenting the broom-handle threateningly.
“George Washington!” answered the farmer.
“All right. Go ’long dar!”
“No, no!” whispered Sid. “Let me see your papers, friend!”
“Let me see your papers, friend!”
The farmer reads his pass.