Mrs. S. Silas Somerby! are you a man, or are you a monster?
Silas. Hey? Ha, ha! Yes, I don’t look very spruce, that’s a fact. The water was cold, and the razor dull, and—and—
Mrs. S. And your hand shakes so you can’t shave. O, Silas, Silas! At your time of life! I blush for you!
Silas. O, bother, now! What are you frettin’ ’bout? I ain’t killed anybody, or robbed anybody’s house—have I?
Mrs. S. You’ve done somethin’ as bad. You’ve been on a spree, and squandered every cent you had in your pocket.
Silas. S’pose I did? Ain’t a hard-working man a right to enjoy himself once in a while, I’d like to know? Now you jest shet up! I’m the master of this farm, and if I choose to show a liberal spirit once in a while, and help along trade by spreading a little cash about, it ain’t for you to holler and “blush—”
Mrs. S. Silas Somerby!
Silas. Shet up! if you don’t, I’ll harness up old Jack, and clear out.
Mrs. S. For another spree? O, you wretch! ain’t you ashamed of yourself, to set sich an example to the young uns? And that critter you sent home! Do you want us to be devoured?
Silas. Critter! critter! What critter?