Charles. Do as I bid you.
Carlos. All right, Mister. Come along, sir—I’ll show you sport!
Dolby. That’s the sort.
Carlos. What kind of fishing do you like best? Do’nt make any difference here. (Aside) Have to fish a darn long spell afore you get any.
Dolby. Well, s’pose we try for cod—no, I mean mackerel. Any blue-fish about here?
Carlos. Ho, ho, ho!
Charles. Careless!
Carlos. Blue-fish? Wal, no; we’re out of blue-fish to-day. (Aside) Lord, he is green!
Dolby. No matter; lead me to the lake where sport the finny tribe.
Carlos. Funny what? Gosh all hemlock! thought you was going a fishing!