Mary. How much water?
Patsy. Faix! the lid was varry well down, and the mud was yaller.
Mary. That may mean something to you, I suppose. You can’t read. Bring me the line. (He bring it from L.)
Patsy. It’s tin fut, mum. (Aside) Bedad, she thinks she’s cap’n.
Mary. That’ll do, Take the line forward, and mind your engine.
Patsy (muttering). Mind the injun, is it? O’ coorse. Musha and faix, I wull! I’m the lasht lad not to be mindin’ me injun. (Drops the line and goes toward R.)
Mary. Patsy!
Patsy. Vart do yer want? I can’t be lavin’ my injun arl the time. True for yez!
Mary. Patsy! I told you to take the line forward!
Patsy. I’ll not do it, mum, for all of yez. Ye’re not the cap’n!