Dilly. Good-morning, Mr. Butts: going to have a ride?
Butts. Oh, bother!
Dilly. I say, Mr. Butts—
Butts. Well, what now?
Dilly. Respect the law.
Butts. Oh, pshaw! (Runs off, C.)
Dilly. Ha, ha, ha! What a queer old customer!
Lucy. Why, Dilly!
Mrs. L. Dilly, child, you mustn’t talk so.
Dilly. That’s what Harry calls him.