Mr. T. (feeling quite the Daredevil). Pooh, my dear, what is there to be careful about?
Mrs. T. It does look such a ramshackle old thing—it might break down. Accidents do happen so quickly.
Mr. T. (reflecting that they certainly do). Oh, if it wasn't perfectly safe, they wouldn't—
Mrs. T. Well, promise me if you go on the box to hold on tight round the corners, then!
Mr. T. (who doesn't see much to hold on by). I shan't go on the box—I shall go inside.
Mrs. T. There mayn't be room. There are several people waiting to go already. You'll have to make haste to get a seat at all. I shall be miserable till I see you safe back again!
Mr. T. (who is not sure he doesn't share her feelings). Oh well, if you feel like that about it, I won't—
Mrs. T. Oh, yes, do, I want you to go—it will be so exciting for you to see real Indians yelling and shooting all round.
Mr. T. (thinking that it may be more exciting than pleasant). Might bring on one of my headaches, and there'll be such a smell of gunpowder too. I hardly think, after all, it's worth while.
Mrs. T. If you feel in the least nervous about it. (Mr. T. denies this indignantly.) Then go at once—you may never have the chance again; only don't stay talking about it—go!