[WALLACK’S THEATRE JUST OUT—A DRIZZLING RAIN.]
Omnibus Driver—Broadway—ride up?
Dad (on sidewalk)—I say, driver, have you got room for all my family?
Driver—How many have you got?
Dad—Myself and two female children—two girls in their teens, and my wife and mother.
Driver—Yes, daddy, I can accommodate you, as I have just got room for yourself, old boy, and your two female children, and two kegs, and your two girls in their teens, and two barrels, and for your wife and mother, and two hogsheads. Jump in, old cock, with all your tribes and trappings.
Dad—Thank you, driver, thank you,—but darn your impudent reflections about crinoline. But it rains, and I’m anxious to get home, and I’ll forgive your facetious comments this time. There, now, get in wife, and mother, and girls, and children—get in as fast as possible, and get out of the rain, and save your bonnets, and shawls, and silks, and kegs, barrels, and hogsheads, that our waggish driver prates of with such truthful severity.
Driver (peeping through the hole)—Are you all right inside, daddy? Crinoline all nicely arranged and tucked in? eh? old cock?
Dad—Go ahead, you rascal. I’ll tell Mayor Tiemann and Peter Cooper of your didos, and have you arrested.
Driver—Laughs, and snaps his whip, and away they go.