Deacon. Perhaps it is, my darling, but let me enjoy the happiness of living over my youth again. I feel fifty years younger this morning than I did last night before I obtained your consent to bless my declining years with your sweet smile. But when we come to consider our age, and the subject of marriage in connection with it, it certainly does appear as though both of us were silly geese.
Miss A. (amazed and offended) Sir!
Deacon. (confused) I beg your pardon. I did not mean to refer to your age. I—I—meant my own. That was what I was thinking about. (tenderly) As I look at you, you appear as fresh and bright as a lass of sixteen.
Miss A. (reassured, gushingly) Oh, Deacon, I can't believe you mean that.
Deacon. I do though.
Pete. (at D. C.) Look out, de parson am coming! (Miss A. and Deacon start, then separate. Pete enters and goes R. At same instant
Enter Parson Brownlow, L. 2 E.
Deacon. (rises, faces Pete, enraged) How dare you enter my—our presence unannounced! What do I care if the parson has come! (Miss A., catching sight of Parson B., who stands L. amazed, with uplifted hands, tugs at the Deacon's sleeve to attract his attention) If a dozen of them come, are they any better than any body else? If ever you enter my presence again so abruptly, old as I am, I'll cane you within an inch of your life.
Miss A. Deacon, Deacon, do be still. You are disgracing yourself and mortifying me. Just look! There stands Parson Brownlow listening to every word you say.
Deacon. Hang the Parson! I'll—(sees the parson) I beg your pardon, sir, I was not aware of your presence. You must excuse my unseemly passion. I have been greatly irritated by that black rascal standing there. (pointing to Pete)