Doctor. Master Hastings?
Fred. I assure you, doctor, I had nothing to do with it.
Doctor. Master Winders, can you throw any light on this proceeding?
Bob. What! I dress old Butts in a foolscap? No, sir. I couldn’t see any joke in that; that’s what I call twitting on facts.
Doctor. Then who is the culprit?
Dilly. If you please, doctor, it was me.
All. You, Dilly!
Dilly. Yes: it was me.
Butts. Why, you little scarecrow, do you mean to say that you did this? I don’t believe it.