Frank. Well, what do you want?
Boots. Plaze, yer 'onour, man's brought yer a hagle.
Frank. Who sent him? How much does he want for it? Boots. Miles, yer 'onour, Miles the guide. The man'll take tin shillings, yer 'onour; and he's an illigant hagle, with a power o' bake.
Frank. Tell him I'll have it, and let him wait till I come down.
Boots. I will, yer 'onour.
Curtain
(Pulled aside by Frank, to facilitate conversation)
Falls.
Interval of half an hour, during which I go to bed in high spirits, and Frank dreams that the Zoological Society have offered him a hundred for his new purchase.