March. Where’s Sept.?
John. Don’no, and don’t care?
March. Dry weather, ain’t it?
John (fiercely). Now, what’s the use of talking about the weather?
March. So I say: what’s the use of talking at all? I like singing better (sings),—
“Oh, my name was Capt. Kyd.”
| John Gale | } (together). | Stop that confounded squalling! |
| Mrs. Gale | Heavens and airth, yelling again! |
March. (Aside.) I thought that would fetch them.
Mrs. Gale. If John Gale was any kind of a man, he’d soon put an end to sich nonsense.
John. Now, what’s the use of telling about John Gale? You spilt the boys! you know you did.