GOLISCH
Lord, Streckmann and trouble—
STRECKMANN
More than enough!—there's somethin' that sticks into me, I can tell you—sticks into my belly and into my heart. I feel so rotten bad I'd like to be doin' somethin' real crazy. [To the ASSISTANT MAID.] Lass, shall I lie down with you?
ASSISTANT MAID
I'll bang you over the head with a whetstone!
GOLISCH
That's just what's troublin' him; everythin' gets black before his eyes, he don't see nothin' more, an' sudden like, he's lyin' abed with a lass.
[Loud laughter.