Butts. Silence! You took my horse and chaise yesterday while I was in Mr. Bates’s house, drove through the town like mad; and, when I found them, they were locked up in the pound, the horse in a perspiration, and the chaise nearly stove to pieces. What have you to say to that?
Dilly. Let my ear alone. I won’t tell you a word until you do.
Butts. Speak out, quick! What did you take my chaise for?
Dilly. La, Mr. Butts! I didn’t mean to hurt it. You posted a notice on the church-door, warning people to beware of leaving horses in the street over twenty minutes; for, if they did, their horses should be put in the pound, and their owners fined.
Butts. What’s that got to do with my horse?
Dilly. Respect the law, Mr. Butts. I saw your horse stand at Mr. Bates’s door over half an hour; and you know what’s sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander: and so I drove him to the pound. Ain’t you much obliged?
Butts. Much obliged, you young jackanapes? If ever I find you meddling with my horse again, I’ll have you locked up in a pound where you won’t get out in a hurry.
Dilly. La, Mr. Butts, don’t get angry! What’s the use of making laws, if you break them yourself.
Butts. Oh, bother! Precious little you know about law. Good-morning, Mrs. Loring; good-morning, Miss Lucy (going, C.).