Sam. You know, Betsey, that I can’t run; I’m too fat and lame; and then I’m gettin’ too old. Mebby I might walk up and help you corner him, but you know I can’t run for anybody.
Enter Josiah.
Jos. The Editor has come, and wants me to fetch out the twins.
Sam. Why I thought he was coming back to take dinner, and read his blank verses.
Jos. Wall, he was unhitchin’ his horse, and I happened to mention that I guessed Betsey would be here to dinner too; and he jumped into that buggy agin’ like lightnin’, and hollered out: “Fetch out the twins!” He acted sort o’ crazy like, and skairt.
Bet. So sweetly sensitive, he fears to be forward and intrusive.
Jos. I told him to stay; I told him you would have an awful good dinner, and I knew what it was to be a widower and live on pancakes. But all he said was to yell out, “Fetch out the twins.”
(Samantha goes to putting on the children’s wraps)
Bet. Oh, do not be in such haste, Josiah Allen’s wife. The editor may come in to dinner if you don’t hurry so, and I will stay too. (Betsey fixes her hair, arranges her neck-tie and looks anxiously from the window; then goes and walks from the window to the door peering out in hopes he will come in.)
Jos. There hain’t no use on waiting, you won’t ketch him in here. Hear him now. (A voice from behind the scenes):