[Exit, L.
Oak. Sich a set of darned stupid furriners I never did see.
Pic. Yaw; dey ish very hard of hearing, by donder!
Oak. Well, Picket, you managed to give us a pretty good scare last night, walking round with that old blunderbuss! Ef yeou ain’t keerful, yeou’ll let fly at some on us, and then there’ll be a purty case of manslaughter.
Pic. Yaw; manslaughter ish goot. I like him mooch ven I fights mit Sigel. By donder! I tink of dat ebery night in mine shleep, and I no shleep at all.
Oak. Well, consarn yeour picter! deon’t yeou come up my way; if yer du, I’ll souse yer head in a bucket of tar!
Pic. Yaw; I no like dat purty well.
Enter Timothy, L., dressed as the Goddess of Liberty; red skirt, mail waist, blue drapery about shoulders.
Tim. Begorra! how’s that for a famale woman? What would Judy O’Flanagan say to that? Tim Tinpan in a red petticoat? Whoo! kittles to mind, kittles to mind!
Enter Loopstitch, in a long white gown, with a green wreath in his hand.