Old Woman. Wal, who’d ‘a’ thunk it? That old thief! You mark my words—he’ll come to grief.
Mother Hubbard. Now just hear that old critter jaw, Back-bitin’ a poor old hound When he ain’t here to defend himself! It’s slander, I’ll be bound. Ef I ketch her agin a-floggin’ my dog, I’ll——
Old Woman. Wal, what will you do? Ef he robs my babies agin, look out! I may flog both of you.
Mother Hubbard. You sassy old thing!
Old Woman. Old thing yourself! You’re in your dotage now, Or you never would plague your neighbors With a thieving cur, I vow! He et my babies’ broth all up And licked the kittle clean!
Mother Hubbard. Wal, you might ‘a’ gin him a plateful. I wouldn’t be so mean!
Jill. Go it, Old Woman, I bet on you!
Mary. I bet on Old Mother Hubbard.
Georgie. She doesn’t know where her dog is now.
Willie. I shut him in her cupboard.