Zeke. Well, I guess not; and my name ain’t Mr. Eh——.
Phil. Do let me take it for you, you look fatigued.
Zeke. Do I? well, so do you. You look kinder peaked, as though you’d slept on the top of the meeting-house steeple, and had to shin down the lightning-rod afore breakfast, with nary a streak of lightning to grease your way.
Ned. You’d better let my friend carry it for you. He’s used to carrying such things.
Zeke. Well, I haven’t the least doubt of that. You both look as though you could carry a great quantity of this article. I’ll carry it myself; but I’m just as much obliged to you; and, to show my gratitude, won’t you take something?
| Ned. | } eagerly. Yes, yes! |
| Phil. |
Zeke. Well, s’pose you take a walk.
Phil. Look here, Mr. What’s-your-name. There’s just enough of this. I’ll take that demijohn. I’m a State constable.
Zeke. A what?
Ned. A State constable. So am I. Our orders are to arrest all suspicious persons with demijohns.