Miss P. But tell me, Mrs. Gabble, what is it about the poisoning?
Mrs. G. Why, he or somebody else has been putting prussic acid in his vinegar, just at the time, too, when everybody's making pickles; and there's no end of the p'isoning he will have to answer for. Mrs. Jewel's just sent for the doctor, and Mrs. Poor's been dreadful all day, and Dr. Baldtop's flying round from house to house; and, O, dear—there's my washing! Who'll be the next victim nobody knows, I'm sure.
Sadie. (Jumping up.) O, dear! O, dear! Send for the doctor, quick! I'm dying, I know I am. (Runs across stage and sinks into chair, R.)
Miss P. (Running to her.) Bless me child, what ails you?
Sadie. I don't know; I can't tell. The doctor, quick!
Mrs. G. Deary me, she's took sudden, just for all the world like Susan Richie.
Jenny. (Jumping up.) Water, water! Give me some water! I shall die if I don't have some water. (Runs down and sinks into chair, L.)
Mrs. G. (Jumping up and running to her.) Gracious goodness! here's another! It's something dreadful, depend upon it. When folks is took sudden—
Bessie. (Jumping up.) O, my throat! I'm burning up! Give me some ipecac. Quick, quick, quick! (Runs round stage, then sinks into chair, C.)
Mrs. G. There goes another! It's something dreadful, depend on it.