“I would say that you are silly, old rabbi Jacob; and that’s what I do say.”
“Blesh my shoul! What dosh you mean, Shoodith?”
“Why, dear and worthy papa, you’re not always so dull of comprehension. Answer me: what do you want the Foolah for?”
“Och! you know what I wants her for, Thish prinshe will give hish twenty Mandingoes for her. There ish no doubt but that she’s his sister. Twenty good shtrong Mandingoes, worth twenty hunder poundsh. Blesh my soul! it’sh a fortune?”
“Well; and if it is a fortune, what then?”
“If it ish? By our fathers! you talk of twenty hunder poundsh ash if monish was dirt.”
“My worthy parent, you misunderstand me.”
“Mishunderstand you, Shoodith?”
“You do. I have more respect for twenty hundred pounds than you give me credit for. So much, as that I advise you to get it.”
“Get it! why, daughter, that ish shoosht what I am trying to do.”