(Tommy discovered standing in centre of stage, near flat, holding a string in right hand, to which are attached several small rubber balloons inflated with gas.)
Tommy.—Well, here goes for another hard day’s work. This standin’ on yer feet, an’ shoutin’ all day is wicked on the toes and lungs. Hello! here comes a swell. Balloons! balloons! Here’s yer genuine rubber air wessels filled with gas!
(Enter Dupewell—Left.)
Dupewell (Swinging cane and not noticing Tommy).—Something must be done to raise the wind.
Tommy.—Balloons! balloons! balloons!
Dupewell.—Shut up! shut up, sir! Your goods are too suggestive of the present state of my stomach.
Tommy.—Don’t lean on me that way; I’m a poor boy, I want to be encouraged, for me stock’s light, trade’s dull, and both pockets is empty.
Dupewell.—Poor fellow! Perhaps I can give you a start in life, but it all depends upon—
Tommy.—Oh, sir, I never had nobody to take me by the hand and say, “Tommy, here’s a chance, take it!” I’ve been lookin’ for a openin’ all me life—