Bill. Yes—a knobby stick—leastways a stick wi' knobs all over it.
Mat. That's him, Susan!
Bill. I could swear to the stick. I was too near gittin' at the taste on it not to know it again.
Mat. When was it you saw him, Bill?
Bill. Yesterday, Mattie—jest arter you give me the tart. I sawr him again this mornin', but he wouldn't place no confidence in me.
Mat. Oh dear! Why didn't you come straight to me, Bill?
Bill. If I'd only ha' known as you wanted him! But that was sech a unlikely thing! It's werry perwokin'! I uses my judgment, an' puts my hoof in it! I am sorry, Mattie. But I didn't know no better (crying).
Mat. Don't cry, Bill. You'll find him for me yet—won't you?
Bill. I'm off this indentical minute. But you see—
Sus. There! there!—now you mizzle. I don't want no fathers here—goodness knows; but the poor girl's took a fancy to hers, and she'll die if she don't get him. Run now—there's a good boy! (Exit BILL.) You 'ain't forgotten who's a comin', Mattie?