Handy, jun. Where? ha, ha, ha! I'll tell you as nearly as I can, ha, ha! What's the name of the next county?
Ash. It be called Wiltshire, zur.
Handy, jun. Then, dad, upon the nicest calculation I am able to make, they are at this moment engaged in the very patriotic act of ploughing Salisbury plain, ha ha! I saw them fairly over that hill, full gallop, with the curricle plough at their heels.
Ash. Ha, ha! a good one, ha ha!
Handy, jun. But never mind, father, you must again set your invention to work, and I my toilet:—rather a deranged figure to appear before a lady in. [Fiddles.] Hey day! What! are you going to dance?
Ash. Ees, zur; I suppose you can sheake a leg a bit?
Handy, jun. I fancy I can dance every possible step, from the pas ruse to the war-dance of the Catawbaws.
Ash. Likely.—I do hope, miss, you'll join your honest neighbours; they'll be deadly hurt an' you won't gig it a bit wi' un.
Miss B. With all my heart.
Sir Abel. Bob's an excellent dancer.