Hero (subtly ironic). Imphm! Imphm! Ou ay, imphm!
Villain (surprised but finding a way). Oh, the dears! oh, the darlings!
Hero (bewildered). What's all that blatherskite, any old way?
Villain (privily drawing bludgeon). It was Sneeky Hobart who never went to kirk again after they substituted tin plates for the usual cloth collecting-bags.
Hero (perplexed and off his guard). Guess you've gone bughouse, sonny. I mean, I'm no quick in the uptak'——
Villain. Are ye no? (brandishing bludgeon). Well, I am! (He fells the Hero senseless to the ground.) And noo, lassie, I can sorter concentrate on you.
Heroine (in the most ladylike way). Help! oh, help!
Villain. Say, you don't seemter freeze on to me, somehow. But you must and shall be mine! Come awa', lassie.
[He seizes her and she resists. Meanwhile the Hero, who fell on to a clump of genuine thistles, makes a superbly-rapid recovery from his unconsciousness.]
Villain (pausing to mop his brow). Say, you'll got my goat for sure if you kick up like this, lassie.