Dr.—That may be—I have restored to health your little child.
Punch.—Dr. you are a good fellow. Come and see me some time when I am not at home.
Dr.—Mr. Punch, my charge for curing the child is fifty dollars.
Punch.—Sir: do you take me for the Bank of England?
Dr.—Well, to be liberal with you I will throw off one half.
Punch.—I will not be outdone in liberality—I will throw off the other half!
Dr.—Mr. Punch, if you don't pay me I will send the sheriff for you.
Punch.—(Looking for his stick—the Dr. flies for his life.) Lucky for you old chap or I would have made a pill of you.
(Enter Miss Polly Hopkins.) Polly.—How do you do sir? I am looking for the man who lived in the house that Jack built.
Punch.—(aside) Oh, good gracious what a pretty girl: in the language of Shakspear, I am the man.