Sept. Now, don’t, mother. You’ll spoil me. You’ll make me believe I’ve done something great instead of my duty. (Enter Mr. R., R.)
Ray. Kate has quite recovered. Sept. Gale, how can I express my obligations, how reward—
Sept. Now, please, don’t Mr. Raymond. Don’t say any thing about it. If I have been the humble instrument of Heaven in saving a life precious to you, believe me the consciousness of duty done is a rich reward, and I ask no other. Oh! here’s Kate. (Enter Kate, R.)
Kate. Here I am, just as good as new. Where’s my preserver? Now, don’t raise your hand: I’m not going to say one word in praise of your conduct. Man was born to wait on woman; and so, sir, you will please follow me to the rock to find my handkerchief, and see that I don’t take another bath. Come along. (Exit, C.)
Sept. Ay! Ay! I’ll watch you: never fear. (Exit, C.)
John. Mother Gale, it strikes me forcibly that if we are to have any dinner to-day—
Mrs. Gale. Heavens and airth! I forgot all about it. You, March, run and split me some wood; and you, Kitty, peel me some pertaters; and you, John—dear, dear, what a confusion! (Exit, L.)
March. Come along, Kitty.
Kitty. Dear me! If there’s any thing I hate, it’s peeling taters.