TUBBY. I told you what he told me to tell you. Run for Doctor MacFarlane, he said. And I ran for Doctor MacFarlane. Now go to Mr. Heeler, he said, and tell him I'm very ill, and I came and told you. Then he said he would get up, and I was to have his breakfast ready for him, and he'd see you down here. (Goes to fire, R.)
JIM (moving towards door up R.). Nonsense, Tubby. Of course, I'll go up to him.
TUBBY. You know what he is, sir. I'll get blamed if you go, and he's short-tempered this morning.
JIM. I don't want to get you into trouble, Tubby. (He sits R. of table.)
TUBBY. Thank you, Mr. Heeler. (Puts bacon on plate and plate down on the hearth.)
JIM. I quite thought it was something serious.
TUBBY. If you ask me, it is. (Coming back to table.)
JIM. Which way?
TUBBY (cutting bread). Every way you look at it. Mr. Hobson's not his own old self, and the shop's not its own old self, and look at me. Now I ask you, Mr. Heeler, man to man, is this work for a foreman shoe hand? Cooking and laying tables and—
JIM. By all accounts there's not much else for you to do.