Fred. (Going.) Good morning, uncle.
Sir R. You rogue, where are you running now?
Fred. To talk with Lieutenant Worthington.
Sir R. And what may you be going to say to him?
Fred. I can't tell till I encounter him; and then, uncle, when I have an old gentleman by the hand, who has been disabled in his country's service, and is struggling to support his motherless child, a poor relation, and a faithful servant, in honorable indigence, impulse will supply me with words to express my sentiments.
Sir R. Stop, you rogue; I must be before you in this business.
Fred. That depends on who can run the fastest; so, start fair, uncle, and here goes.—(Runs out.)
Sir R. Stop, stop; why, Frederic—a jackanapes—to take my department out of my hands! I'll disinherit the dog for his assurance.
Hum. No, you won't.
Sir R. Won't I? Hang me if I—but we'll argue that point as we go. So, come along Humphrey.