Reginald. "Kynde fortune has thrown me in the angel's path. The belue skuye already smyles more beounteously on my poor fate. Fayer laydee, turn not away those gentle eyes, that e'en the turtle-dove might sigh, and dying, envy, envying, die of envy."
Lady C. "Oh, git eout!"
Reginald. "Say not so, fair laydee. A wanderer on this cruel earth, a lover of the sweet songs of birds, the murmuring of streams, the gay garb of nature, from mighty mountain-tops to rustling glens. I bring an aching spirit seeking sympathy to thee."
Lady C. "Dew tell!"
Reginald. "A sympathetic heart within your bosom burns; say, let it beat in unison with mine?"
Lady C. "Well, I don't keer if I do; only hurry up, there's some one coming."
Reginald. "Coming? sayest though; then will I retire for a brief space."
[Retires.
Lady C. "He seems a pretty nice kind or young man, tho' he ain't got so much style into him as tother feller. Wal, them folks didn't come this way arter all, so he'd no call to be so scart," etc., etc.
Enter General Hab-grabemall (Wegger again).
General. "Thunder and Mars! I thought I should never have got here. Road as dusty as a canteen of ashes; coach as slow as a commissary mule. Had half a mind to bivouac on the roadside—make a fire of the axletrees, and roast the postilion for dinner. But shells and rockets! I must beat up the quarters of this fair one, or some jackanapes civilian will be stealing a march upon me (sees Lady C.). Gad! there she is! I must make a charge on her left wing. Hey! my little beauty, here's a battered old soldier, wounded everywhere except in his heart, crying surrender at your first fire. He yields himself prisoner-of-war, and gives up his untarnished sword to you and you alone."