Mary. Yes, Sally, of Jarius.
Sally. It’s no sech thing. Leastwise, dreams go by contraries. I thought that Jarius Jerden had his arm around my neck, and was going to kiss me; so I hollered.
Mary. As dreams go by contraries, you wouldn’t scream if he really had.
Sally. Yes, I would. What do I care for Jarius Jerden? He’s forever pokin’ his nose in here when he ain’t wanted. I’ll give him a piece of my mind some day, see if I don’t.
Mary. That will be very satisfactory to him, no doubt, when he pops the important question.
Sally. He? Jarius Jerden pop the question? He’ll never do it. He hain’t the courage. He jest comes here, and sits and whistles, sighs and whittles, and talks about Squire Jones and his cattle, and sich nonsense. I’ve no patience with him. If I was a man, I’d just know which side my bread was buttered on in short order.
Hannah. (Outside, L.) Sally, Sally!
Sally. Yes, marm.
Hannah. (Outside, L.) Your bread’s run onto the floor, the fire’s all out, and the cat’s in the cream.—Scat! scat!
Sally. Dear me! What a chapter of accidents! And I here dreaming! O, these men, these men! (Exit, L.)