Zeb. Hey! what’s dat you call? Hey! what’s dat, what den’s the Constitution say. Hey! (flourishing razor.)
Simper. Good gwacious! put down that wazor!
Zeb. What did the ’mancipation krocklamation do, hey? (Flourishing razor.)
Simper. Dear me! will you put down that wazor?
Zeb. Nigah! by golly, if you ain’t dark complexed yourself I’d—I’d—
Simper. Help! murdew! put down that wazor!
Mike. Faith, Zeb, if yer not quiet, out yer go.
Zeb. Ob course, ob course! what’s the dec—
Mike. Oh! whist wid yer blarney, and shave the man.
Crusty. Come, come, hurry up: will you never get through?