_Ned._ One dollar. All right. Thank you, Sally.
_Sally._ Was you going my way, Mr. Jerden?
_Jarius._ Yes--no--no. I was going to see Joe Bristles’ hog.
_Sally._ O, yes. “Birds of a feather,” you know. (_Exit, C. to R._)
_Jarius._ Jes’ so. Consarn it, Jarius, you are a hog, and no mistake. (_Exit, C. to L._)
_Ned._ Hen Douglas marry Mary Nutter! O, Heaven forbid! What a dear good girl she is! The sound of her voice, as she merrily sings at her work, sets my hammer flying glibly, and my heart beating quickly, too. ’Twill be called a good match, for he has money, and she is the most capable girl in the place. She would grace the handsomest house that his money could furnish. But could he make her happy? He, with his foppish airs, his love of display, delight in reckless dissipation! No, no. He would tire of her in a week, and then, with some new fancy luring him, turn coldly from her, perhaps abuse her, and break her heart. Break her heart! O, Mary, Mary! For the first time in my life I long for wealth, for then I should have the power to enter the field, and, if I could not win you for myself, at least save you from a heartless man.
“Come, arouse thee, arouse thee, My merry Swiss maid; Take thy _pail_, and to labor away.”
Ah, Ned, all alone, and still at work? The old adage will never do for you--“When the cat’s away, the mice will play.”
_Ned._ No, indeed, Mary. I like work too well to slight it when the master’s eye is not upon me. It’s such a jolly companion! With every peg I drive away poverty; with every punch of my awl I see success; with every pull of the threads I gain a long pull and a strong pull up the ladder of life. O, work is a man’s best friend, and when he turns his back upon that, he richly deserves what he is sure to get--a gloomy life and a nameless grave.
“With bench for horse, and awl for lance, Through stubborn leather you gayly prance; Shouting your war-cry, with cheery ring, ‘Make way, make way for the shoemaker king!’”
_Mary._ Laugh at you? No, indeed; not I. You were philosophical, so I, to keep you company, became poetical. But you’re right, Ned, as you always are. Work has been your best friend, for it has enabled all of us to find in you its best companion--merit.