AMATEUR THEATRICALS 181 



Ezra. Yessir. 



Seed. Hev ye watered the milk ? 



Ezra. Yessir. 



Seed. Hev ye counted over the coffee ? 



Ezra. Yessir. 



Seed. Hev ye aired the salt fish ? 



Ezra. Yessir. 



Seed. Hev ye giv the butter a good combin' ? 



Ezra. Yessir. 



Seed. All rite, then ; I want ye to go daun to Ruta J. 

 Bagas and tell him we draw the line on eggs that have been 

 set on fer nineteen days. When eggs peep so's everybody 

 can hear 'em it spiles the sale, 'n' we hev to use 'em to hum. 

 Stop at old Miss Grandiflora's 'n' tell her we got some o' 

 that cookin' butter that 's a little spiled, but good enough 

 for a church sociable. 



[Exit EZRA, whistling; Mr. Seed goes to desk and begins 

 to charge up items. 



Seed. Pumpkin J. Radish, two pounds butter. That 

 butter 's a little spiled, but Pump 's used snuff so long that 

 he hain't got no taste 'n' can't tell the difference, so Pump 

 gits charged full price. Hardy P. Shrubb, half peck o' 

 potatoes, half pound o' cheese. Lessee, wuz it the jumpy 

 kind, or the deef 'n' dumb kind. Oh, yes, I remember 

 Hardy, he sez it got away from him on the way hum 'n' 

 got away into the bushes. I forgot to stunt it afore he tuk 

 it away. 



[Enter TEMPERANCE S. RHUBARB. Angular female, with 

 Paisley shawl, specs, mitts and beaded reticule. 



Seed. Howdy, Miss Rhubarb : nice day. What kin 



