“Spoon, tew, ef you please.”
But no spoon could be found. Landlord was sure he had plenty of silver ones lying on the table when the stage stopped.
“Say, dew ye? dew ye think them passengers is goin’ to pay ye for a breakfuss and not git no compensashun?”
“Ah! what? Do you think any of the passengers took them?”
“Dew I think? No, I don’t think, but I’m sartin. Ef they are all as green as yew bout here I’m going to locate immediately and tew wonst.”
The landlord rushes out to the stable, and starts a man off after the stage, which had gone about three miles. The man overtakes and says something to the driver in a low tone. He immediately turns back, and on arriving at the hotel Hez comes out, takes his seat, and says:
“How are yew, gents? I’m glad to see yew.”
“Can you point out the man you think has the spoons?” asked the landlord.
“P’int him out? Sartenly I ken. Say, squire, I paid yew four and ninepence for a breakfuss, and I calkelate I got the valee on’t it! You’ll find them spoons in the coffee-pot.”
“Go ahead! All aboard, driver.”