Rover. Ay, "thou art damn'd like an ill roasted egg—all on one side."—Little Hospitality.
[Looking out.
Enter Farmer Gammon.
F. Gam. Eh, where's the showman, that wants to hire my barn? So, Madam Jane, I place her out to sarvice, and instead of attending her mistress, she gets gallopping all about the village.—How's this, son?
Rover. "Your son? Young Clodpate, take him to your wheat stack, and there teach him manners."
F. Gam. Ah, thou'rt the fellow that would bolt out of the dirty roads into people's houses. Ho, ho, ho! Sim's schooling is mightily thrown away if he hasn't more manners than thou.
Sim. Why, feyther, it is! Gadzooks, he be one of the play! Acted Tom Fool, in King Larry, at Lymington, t'other night—I thought I know'd the face, thof he had a straw cap, and a blanket about'n—Ho, ho! how comical that was when you said—
Rover. "Pillicock sat upon Pillicock hill, pil—i—loo, loo!"
Sim. That's it! He's at it! [Claps.] Laugh, feyther.
F. Gam. Hold your tongue, boy! I believe he's no better than he should be. The moment I saw him, says I to myself, you are a rogue.