Zeke. Where would you have gone to if I hadn’t pulled you out?
Chick. Donno Massa: spec I’d gone to Dixie.
Zeke. Well, go and lay down there and dry yourself.
Chick. Spec I will, massa.
(Chick goes back, and, during the next dialogue, manages to get at the demijohn, and take a drink.)
Zeke (putting on his coat). Halloo! where’s my demijohn? Ho, ho! I didn’t leave it there. The “State constables” have been at it, have they? (Lifts it.) How light it is! Those chaps have helped themselves while I was pulling out the darkey. If they don’t have a convulsion in their insides, then I’m a Dutchman. Here’s a chance for a speculation. I’ll try the effects of a little “moral suasion,” and see if I can’t add a couple of names to the temperance pledge. (To Phil.) Look here, you’ve been at my demijohn?
Phil. I, sir? Why, I am a member of the temperance society, twenty years’ standing.
Zeke (aside). Are you? well, you’re a-lying now. (To Ned.) Did you trouble my demijohn?
Ned. Me, sir? No. I’m a reformed drunkard.
Zeke (aside). All but the reformed. (Aloud.) Well, I’m glad it wasn’t you; for whoever did touch it is a dead man. Do you know what’s in that demijohn?