Policeman.—Oh! now we’ll get him off in good shape; here comes the push-cart.
(Enter Pedestrian, carrying an arm chair.)
Policeman.—Why didn’t you bring the barrow?
Pedestrian.—The groceryman just left with a load of onions and won’t be back for an hour.
Policeman.—Make way for the chair.
(Pedestrians divide to R. and L.)
Openface (stands up).—I will go straight to the Mayor and enter a complaint.
Tilly (rushes to Openface).—My father!
Openface.—My darling child! (They embrace.)
Tilly.—Oh, how did it happen?