Dennis. The top uv the mornin' to ye's. Is the docther man in—I donno?
Dr. A. Yes, I'm the doctor.
Dennis. Is that so? Yer rivirance, if ye plaze, Squire Croony wants ye's quick. The ould missus's howlin' in the pangs uv insinsibility, the young masther's took wid the jumpin' croup in his skull, and the babby's got the janders—an' it's pisoned they all are intirely.
Dr. A. What, Squire Croony?
Dennis. The same, yer rivirance, onto the hill beyant.
Dr. A. O, you've made a mistake. He wants Dr. Allopath.
Dennis. Niver at all, at all. It's Dr. Ac—Ac—Acraoniting I was to sind.
Dr. A. (jumping up, and pulling off his dressing-gown). My coat—quick! quick! (Annie runs off, R.) Maggie, Maggie, my hat and cane! Here's luck. (Enter Annie, with coat. He jumps into it.) You're sure he sent for me?
Dennis. To be sure I am.
Dr. A. Glory! glory! Rich Squire Croony! I'm a fortunate man. Where's my medicine case? (Runs to table, R., and takes it.) My good man, I'm terribly afraid you've made a mistake.