"Pooh! Lobsters!" says young Mantillini, with a mock heroic shrug of his shoulders, and looking fierce as two cents!
"Come out here!" says the conductor, feeling for them.
"Take care!" says the deacon, "the plaguy things have got their pins out!"
"Why, they are alive, and crawling around; hear the old fellow,—take care, Mr. Swaller—he's cross as sin!" says the man with the cane—"wasn't that a snap? Take care! You got him?" that indefatigable assistant continued, rattling his tongue and cane.
"I've got them!" cries the conductor.
"Put them in the bag, here, sir," says the deacon.
"Take them out of this car!" cries everybody.
"Plaguy things," says the deacon. "I sha'n't never buy another live lobster!"
Order was restored, passengers took their seats, but when young Mantillini looked for his dog, he had vamosed with the Irishman, at "the last stopping place," in his excitement, leaving a quart jug of whiskey in lieu of the dandy's dog.