Man. Good again! a right English academy for younger children!
John Moody. Anon, Sir.
[Not understanding him.
Lady Grace. Poor souls! What will become of 'em?
John Moody. Nay, nay, for that matter, Madam, they are in very good hands: Joan loves 'em as thof' they were all her own: For she was wet-nurse to every mother's babe of 'um——Ay, ay, they'll ne'er want for a full belly there!
Lady Grace. What simplicity!
Man. The Lud 'a mercy on all good folks! what work will these people make!
[Holding up his hands.
Lord Town. And when do you expect him here, John?
John Moody. Why we were in hopes to ha' come yesterday, an' it had no' been, that th' owld wheaze-belly horse tir'd: And then we were so cruelly loaden, that the two fore wheels came crash! down at once, in Waggon-Rut Lane, and there we lost four hours 'fore we could set things to rights again.