[Counting.
Frank. Worthy, honest fellow!
Dennis. Eleven, twelve, thirteen—
Frank. I'll be the making of your house, my good fellow.
Dennis. Damn the Red Cow, sir,—you put me out.—Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen.—Nineteen fat yellow boys, and a seven shilling piece.—Tell them yourself, sir; then chalk them up over the chimney-piece, else you'll forget, you know.
Frank. O, friend, when honesty, so palpably natural as yours, keeps the account, I care not for my arithmetic.—Fly now,—bid the servants give you any refreshment you chuse; then hasten to execute your commission.
Dennis. Thank your honour!—good luck to you! I'll taste the beer;—but, by my soul, if the butler comes the Red Cow over me, I'll tell him, I know sweet from sour.
Exit Dennis.
Frank. Let me read her letter once more.
[Reads.