Zeke. All right, liberty or death. You have swallowed poison, deadly poison: it’s slow, but sure. Good-by. I’ll send the coroner for you in an hour.
| Phil. | } Oh! give us the pledge. |
| Ned. |
Zeke. All right; here you are. (Turns Phil round, and places paper on his back while Ned signs; then places paper on Ned’s back while Phil signs; both groaning during the operation.) Now, then, the best thing you can do is to make a bee-line for that apothecary’s, and get an emetic. (Ned and Phil start, R.) Hold on! The nature of the poison you have swallowed is such, that, should you ever take a drop of liquor into your stomach, the old symptoms will return.
| Phil. | } Oh, oh! |
| Ned. |
Zeke. So look out! beware of any thing in the shape of liquor.
Phil. I’ll beware of Yankees, you be sure. Oh!
(Exit, R.)
Ned. Yes, keep clear of the man with a demijohn. Oh!
(Exit, R.)